Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-three
ISAIAH
I pace Gracyn’s office, pinching my chin so I won’t tear out my hair waiting for Gatlin to return from upstairs. He hardly has the chance to close the door behind him when Vespa attacks.
“Well, that took you long enough. Did they sign it?” she demands.
“Like you haven’t had your finger on the refresh button and already know?” Hard to rattle, he tosses a chin at her. “Check your email. Gracyn sent two out of the three.”
Whereas I’m wound like a top, Gatlin’s had Vespa’s number all morning. Since we arrive on the tarmac, her repeated attempts to strong-arm every-fucking-body associated with Kingsbrier into signing one has grated on my nerves. Thankfully, Gatlin truly fucking understands the importance of keeping your personal life out of the press.
I made the decision to come back to Kingsbrier quickly, but I don’t take it lightly. I knew I needed help smoothing things over with Cassidy. That’s where Gatlin comes in.
When my entire entourage showed up at his new house with little warning, he understood the complexity behind me leaving in a rush. The guy didn’t ask why I’ve been keeping a baby a secret. He asked if he could hold Aria and then he asked what he could do for me. If that’s not a sign of a genuine friend, I’m not sure what is. I’m uncertain if I can ever repay his or Bellamy’s kindness.
They both understand how hard it is to be a single parent.
Gatlin meets me halfway across the room. He smacks my arm. A reassurance that I’m doing the right thing despite the hair on the back of my neck standing on end.
“Listen, Cassidy is the holdout. I tried to convince her she’ll want to hear what you have to say, Isaiah. But she’s not feeling especially well. And reading through a non-disclosure with a hangover like the one she’s nursing is rough.” The tone he uses makes me worry I’m acting like a wounded animal he’s coaxing out of a hole.
On the opposite side of the spectrum, Vespa’s unveiled disdain for my choice is apparent. “I told you this was a ridiculous idea. We’re better off in Nashville. The holiday was the issue. I found you a new nanny to start tomorrow.”
The argument is moot. Gatlin and Bellamy offered to share Chesney’s while we’re in town. Their sitter is vetted. Gatlin even suggested that as long as anyone but me drops Aria at their house, no one will be the wiser.
I widen my stance and push back my shoulders. Lifting my palm, I run it over Aria’s wispy, blonde head. She’s asleep in the front carrier that I’m attempting to get used to wearing. For the light weight that it holds, my back sure is tired.
“Go wait outside with Monty, Vespa,” I say, weary of the excessive disagreements.
She’s made her position clear when I packed up the baby shit and told her to charter a return flight and so have I.
Gatlin and I watch Vespa snap her laptop shut and storm out.
I turn to him. “I thought you said Cassidy didn’t go to the country club last night?”
“She didn’t. Cassidy and Rhiannon stayed in, and I don’t think the drinking they did was celebratory, if you get my drift.” Gatlin looks at me with sympathy and a hell of a lot of how-could-you-be-so-stupid for not understanding why his cousin is in such rough shape. I ruined her evening.
My brow furrows. I hadn’t considered my soul had room for more regret before blowing it with Cassidy.
“Breaking our date feels more like breaking a promise.” My voice is low. “I don’t know how to make this up to her.”
“What you’re going through, raising a kid on your own, it’s a big deal. Things between Belle and me weren’t any less complicated. At least you’re trying to make amends for missing Christmas with Aria and explaining why to Cass.”
I keep my disagreement to myself. For everyone’s sake, I need to try harder. Not to mention, almost a year after Gatlin and Bellamy met, Chesney showed up on Gatlin’s doorstep. Their situation was entirely different.
“Do you mind if I go?” Gatlin rubs the back of his neck, hesitating to ask.
The same way, we shared a table for Christmas dinner, Cassidy and I were supposed to celebrate alongside Gatlin and Bellamy last night. They’d gone to the club and stayed past midnight. Gatlin is bushed. Bellamy deserved a quiet day home with her family. Instead I dragged her man into my drama.
“Yeah, go on. Go. Tell Bellamy I said thank you for letting me take you away. And thank you again for letting us crash at your place while we waited. I really don’t think I can ever make this up to either of you.”
Gatlin slaps me on the back, gripping my shoulder. “Life’s messy, but it’s worth it.”
“I hope you’re right.”
A few moments later, I hear the Tudor’s large front door close. Not long afterwards, there’s commotion outside in the foyer.
“Sign it or you’re not going in there.” My viper assistant demands.
“This is my house. Move,” Cassidy spits.
The way Cass holds her own with my assistant makes my chests swell with pride.
“Vespa, I don’t think Isaiah really cares.”
“I could’ve sworn your job is to protect him?” my assistant barks.
“Hi Monty, how are you?” Cassidy asks sweetly.
The corners of my lips curl.
“Doin’ well, Miss Cavanaugh. Doing well. Yourself?”
“Aside from a splitting hangover, and the enormous cunt standing in front of me, I’m great. Thanks for asking.”
Monty lets out a throaty chuckle.
“Let her in,” I say loud enough for them to hear in the foyer.
Monty turns the knob, but Vespa attempts to block Cassidy’s way in. “The months I’ve spent keeping this a secret will be for naught.”
“Just move!” Cassidy shouts.
Aria’s limbs jump in the front carrier. My cheeks inflate like a puffer fish. Then Aria’s head lolls. The baby stays asleep. I blow out a breath, relaxing a fraction. It feels like a victory, but when I look up, nothing beats the sight of Cassidy standing in the threshold.
She’s a sight for sore eyes. A beautiful mess, wearing cranberry sweatpants and a short cream sweatshirt. She’s piled her blonde hair on her head in a loose bun. Soft locks fall out that my fingertips beg to touch. She’s pale from having too much to drink. I can tell right away the jackhammer in her head is no joke. Cassidy looks the way my insides have felt, torn up and fucked over.
I won’t fool myself into believing my leaving doesn’t play a role in her appearance. And I have no way of making her believe the only thing I’d change about her is that she felt better. Because Cassidy Cavanaugh is as real as real gets and she’s fucking gorgeous to me.
Vespa grits her teeth. “This is your funeral,” she says, shoving a printed NDA at me.
I could be a cocksucker and retort that my assistant can go make us some coffee. Except Vespa is right. She’s risked a lot for me and what I’m doing right now is tantamount to ruining her efforts. Plus, she wouldn’t know where to find Cassidy’s favorite mug.
Being an ass anyway, I go with, “Cool. There’s a Tom Ford in my luggage. Have it pressed. I’ll let you know if we need anything else.”
Cassidy still stands stock still in the threshold. Her jaw on the floor, she jumps when Monty draws the door shut, giving us some privacy. “You… You have a baby,” she finally says, bewildered.
“This is Aria. She’s uh—I um, I don’t know a lot about her.” Which is lousy. “But uh, she wasn’t happy on the plane. She cried until we touched down. Bellamy told me that was normal. Their ears and such.” I point to my own.
After we arrived at Gatlin’s house, the same doctor who examined me when I fell made a house call to check on the baby. I’d rather be safe than sorry. Or rather, sorrier than I am.
“I don’t know when she naps, but she’s been asleep for a while.” I toss the contract on the coffee table and keep fumbling with nonsensical details about the baby before getting the point. “Cassidy, there’s all this crap I need to tell you. Things I’ve wanted to say, but wasn’t sure how. Shit I figured out over Christmas. I’m a fool for not making you sign the NDA like Vespa wants. She says blindly trusting is my downfall. But it’s a catch twenty-two. I wouldn’t have wanted to tell you any of this unless I trusted you.”
“How old is she?” Cassidy tilts her head, asking quiet as a mouse.
“Six months… Almost seven.”
“Is her mother—”
“She passed away the day Aria was born.”
Cassidy’s mouth forms an “O” and she inhales sharply. “I’m so sorry.” She glances warily at the non-disclosure.
I think I’ve gotten it wrong. Our baggage is too much to lay on Cassidy and she is about to bolt. You could knock me over with a feather as she walks over to the desk for a pen before bending over and signing it.
“Sit.” She motions graciously, though her hand is shaking.
The contraption holding the baby makes sitting awkward. I pull up my pant legs and prop my butt on the couch. At the same time, Aria decides she’s had a long enough nap. She rubs her eyes and, mid-yawn, sticks her index finger in her mouth to suck on. Something I noticed her doing on the plane. I’m grateful for Aria’s inability to see me. It must appease her. She’s not crying.
“Hi, pretty girl,” Cassidy coos.
I’ve imagined her talking to Aria like this. Soft and comforting. It’s the same natural way she acts around her sister’s kids.
Aria reaches out, wrapping her slimy, tiny fingers around Cassidy’s. Right then, I know that I’ve made the best choice.
“Cass, what I’m about to say—”
“Is private.”
“—I would’ve said whether or not you signed.” She’s the woman I want in my life.
“Why?”
“Because you are important to me.”
She blushes, studying the intricate pattern of the Oriental carpet.
“Aria was delivered by c-section after Kylie’s accident. She was born twelve weeks early. The doctors said Kylie suffered a placental abruption, and that’s how she lost control of the car. Her injuries were significant and machines were keeping her alive. The doctors didn’t know how long that could last. I kept hoping for a miracle that she’d make it back to us. As her next of kin, I had to make the choice I thought Kylie would want.” I still don’t know if I chose right.
“There was no mention of the baby.” Cassidy’s lip quivers and she tries to give me her condolences, but I hold up a palm.
“We, ah, —I thought it was for the best.” I smash my lids together, holding back emotion. “Aria was premature. She’d been in an automobile accident, and her prognosis was touch and go.”
“That was last summer. How did no one find out?”
I tap her NDA. “That. And an agreement with the hospital to withhold Kylie’s name on Aria’s birth certificate. There were, are , a lot of legalities involved, making sure that eventually Aria inherits Kylie’s estate and granting me guardianship without tipping off the press.” I stayed away from the hospital the first month when the baby was in the NICU. Then, once the neonatology team set up a private space and it was safer, I occasionally visited in the middle of the night. “Eventually Aria was released and I hired a nurse to take care of her.”
“Not you?”
I shake my head. “I couldn’t get out of my head. I spent a lot of time right after the accident wondering where I went wrong and, since my wife was already dead, I was useless to fix it. Then I was so damn depressed it didn’t matter. Aria didn’t seem to like me, anyway.”
“She’s a baby.”
“I know. But you can’t talk rationally with irrational emotions, Cass. I was grieving. Initially, I stayed out of the public eye because I wanted to do right by Kylie. After a few months, the solitude got the best of me and I became reclusive. People, even Monty, tried to tell me Kylie’s accident was a tragedy, but life isn’t fair either. I went to grief counseling, but more than anything, I wanted out of the entire situation, and there was no escaping it.
“The pressure my PR team put on me about the upcoming tour made everything worse. The label, my management company, Vespa—who helped hide the truth—badgered me nonstop about concert promotion. My record label wouldn’t let me back out. I had to agree to do interviews. Choosing to start with Gatlin was the safest bet. We’d struck up a friendship that could’ve been beneficial to one another if I hadn’t pushed the entire world away. But then, my anxiety took over and my therapist proposed bumping the date up so it was taped instead of live as a way for me to feel like I had control of another situation I felt trapped by.
“During the taping at the studio, Gatlin mentioned Jake Ballentine was in town and there was a possibility of getting on Cris’s schedule. I’ve wanted to write with them my entire career and I wanted to take charge of my life again. That’s why I stayed and that’s how we met.”
Though I never gave Aria a bottle, I’d grown accustomed to waking early to her cries. The first person I encountered the first morning I was at Kingsbrier turned out to be a quick-witted bombshell. The more time I spent at the ranch, the more I leaned into the feeling of freedom and control.
“Everything about you and being here at Kingsbrier was a relief.”
“It was your escape,” she remarks.
It certainly seemed that way.
“Vespa and the nanny assured me Aria was being well taken care of. She had everything she needed, and she didn’t need me. I could get back to my life and try to focus on the tour. I planned to be gone for months anyhow. Despite my hesitancy to do the interview, I love touring. So what difference did spending these two weeks with you make? But I think I knew I was wrong right away.” Watching the Cavanaughs effortlessly nurture their family ties made the holidays at the ranch appealing.
“You left your daughter behind at Christmastime.” It hits Cassidy like lightning. I missed Aria’s first Christmas.
Her opinion of me changes on a dime and she shrinks in her seat, adding space between us.
The negative emotion she feels isn’t unwarranted. I’m wholly unimpressed with the man she believed I was, too. Not because I didn’t need to be selfish—I did. Monty was right. It was important to cultivate a relationship for me before bringing Aria into the mix.
However, as soon as I saw where things were leading with Cassidy, and I understood what I was denying Aria, I should have manned up.
I want Cassidy’s faith in me restored. I hoped complete honesty would give us a chance to build on the relationship we were exploring. The faint future I envision with her is something my subconscious contemplated during my marriage: that once Kylie and I finished focusing on our careers, we’d turn perception into reality and truly become the perfect couple, raising kids of our own.
Except, what I confess to Cassidy next swings the pendulum in the opposite direction from our well-crafted perfection.
“Aria isn’t mine.”