Torn Page 15

  "He'll be done soon and then we're heading to a hotel."

  "Call me if you need me, Fal." She brushes her lips across my cheek. "I can be back here in fifteen minutes."

  "I'll be fine." I reach for her shoulder to pull her into a quick hug. "I'll meet you at the airport tomorrow morning at eleven."

  She steps back to eye me carefully. "My friend instinct is telling me you need me."

  "Your friend is telling you she's fine." I tap her chin. "Go, Maya. I promise that I'm good."

  She nods and as I watch her walk away I wonder if her friend instinct is right and I need her more than I realize.

  ***

  I glance down at my phone. It's been almost an hour and a half since Maya left. I sank into a plush chair in another dressing room before I pulled my laptop from my bag and started working on the edits for the pictures I took of Asher tonight. Dita wants them in her hands as soon as possible for promotional use, so I need to get them to her by late tomorrow afternoon at the latest. I could take longer, but she's paying me well and I'm getting credit for the shots that are on his website, as well as a link back to my site. The exposure I'm going to get from that alone is worth all the work I'll be putting in on the plane tomorrow morning and once I'm back at my studio.

  Maya texted me twice since she left. The first time to tell me that she arrived at her aunt's house in one piece and the second time was just three minutes ago when she insisted I come there to sleep.

  I didn't realize what time it was until that text came in. The small ding of the bell indicating the message jarred me from my work. I shoved my laptop back into the bag and now I'm once again standing in the corridor outside Asher's dressing room.

  The mood has changed. There's music blaring through the speakers, dozens of people are in the corridor, many with drinks in their hands. There are woman huddled everywhere, scoping the faces of any men that pass by. I recognize the looks on their faces. It's lust. They're on the hunt for Asher, just as I am.

  I try to push past a group of women standing directly in front of the doorway of his dressing room.

  "Excuse me." I clear my throat. "Let me by."

  A tall brunette with red lipstick puts her hand on my shoulder to halt me. "That's not how this works. Get in line behind me."

  I laugh. "No, you've got it wrong. I'm a friend of Asher's. I'm going in to talk to him."

  The words turn every other woman in the vicinity around to look at me.

  The tall brunette isn't buying any of what she thinks I'm trying to sell her. "We're all friends of his. Dita arranged for each of us to have time with him. You'll get your turn if you just get in line."

  I try to look past them to where Asher's sitting with his back to me. He's on a chair with two women directly across from him. I can't see what's happening so I shift slightly to the right to try and grab a better view. I shouldn't have, or maybe it's good that I did. I see Asher take the hand of one of the women to cup it between both of his.

  "You're not going to cut in the line." The brunette is getting more irritated with me by the second. "I'm the sixth in line to see him, you're the seventh."

  "I'm the seventh?" It's too ironic for it to be anything but funny. I chuckle. "You're not serious? I have to wait in this line in seventh place to see Asher?"

  "Get in line, Seven." She rubs the tip of her nose. "You'll get your turn with him just like the rest of us."

  Hearing that from her is almost too much. I bite my lip to try and quell my emotions. I yank my phone from my pocket and type out a message to Asher telling him that I want to talk to him. I press send and wait.

  I look back in the room and one of the women is now on his lap, while the other takes a picture. They switch positions, the second woman wrapping her arms around his neck while she rests her cheek against his.

  The minutes pass. He talks. He stands for another set of pictures and he never once looks at his phone or back towards the doorway. I type another short message to him telling him I'm leaving and I'll see him back in New York.

  I walk across the hall to another dressing room. Some of Asher's crew stored my overnight bag and my equipment in there. I show the guard at the door the media tag that's around my neck and once I'm inside the darkened room, I call Maya and tell her that I'm on my way.

  CHAPTER 38

  Asher

  "Someone needs to fucking find her for me, Dita." I clench my fists together at my side. "How the hell did she just walk out of here and no one knows where she went?"'

  I'm so goddamn pissed at myself right now. I let Dita dictate what happened after the show. I did the standard VIP meet and greet even though I didn't want to. I plastered a smile on my face and signed autograph after autograph all while listening to women telling me that they love my music or they fantasize about what it would be like if I sang a song for them.

  I was in a fog through the entire thing and when it started to wind down, Dita announced out in the corridor that I was willing to meet more fans, so the ones that had scored a backstage pass rushed my dressing room.

  Some of the security guards lined the women up and they let them in either one-by-one, or in some cases two-by-two. Dita snapped pictures on her phone while I sat like a trained monkey, smiling, signing, and then repeating the process over and over again. The entire fucking time that was going on, I wanted to talk to Falon.

  It wasn't until the last of the women finally filed out that I looked at my phone and realized that the ringer was still set to silent. I'd done that before I stepped on stage.

  I missed three text messages from Falon. Two while she was still in this building. Both of them were short, succinct but I could read between the lines. She needed me and I wasn't there for her. I was catering to the fans, to the women who buy my music.

  The third message was a simple goodnight. She didn't say where she was but I assumed she was at the hotel. I had one of the security guys who were already there check on the room. He knocked but no one answered. When he went down to the front desk to confirm that Falon was there, they checked the key logs. No one had been in or out of the room all night.

  She's somewhere in Philadelphia. I just have no fucking clue where.

  I turn back so I'm facing Dita directly. "You had a key for the room I'm staying in at the hotel. You gave that to her like I asked you to, right?"

  She taps the toe of her boot on the floor. "She got here late, Asher. I didn't have time."

  "What the hell?" I rake my hand through my hair. "What about after the show? She sent me some text messages. She was still here for a couple of hours after I left the stage."

  She throws her arms up. "Don't take this out on me. I had a lot to coordinate. I'm not responsible for crossed wires between you and your latest."

  "Don't call her that," I seethe. "I care about this girl, Dita. I want to see her. Where did the driver take her? You can find that out, can't you?"

  She blows a heavy puff of air out between her lips. "She took an Uber. The security guy posted at the door helped her load her stuff into the car."

  "This is bullshit," I whisper. "She's not answering her phone. I have no idea if she's safe."

  "She's a grown woman, Asher." She rubs her finger over the bridge of her nose. "If she wanted to talk to you, she'd answer. Let her be. You'll find her tomorrow."

  She thinks it's that easy. She didn't see the expression on Falon's face when I had to rush away from her in my dressing room.

  My chance to explain who Karen is and to tell Falon that she's the only woman who matters to me, may have disappeared, the same way she has.

  ***

  "What are you doing here?"

  I lean against the open door of my hotel room. It's just past seven in the morning. I finally fell asleep near four after working out in the private gym on the floor below me.

  "I'm your mother, Asher." She brushes past me with a quick kiss to my cheek. "What kind of greeting is that?"

  When I spoke to her on the phone two days
ago, I was tempted to bring up the voicemail that Caterina sold to me. I should have, but I know enough to realize that once I open that can of worms, my mom will scramble into victim mode.

  The tears will start and the lies will follow. She'll warn my dad that I'm out for blood and any chance I may have had to talk to him candidly about this will be gone.

  She's just as responsible as he is for keeping the truth from me all these years but I don’t want to discuss this with her. I refuse to. She'll shut down. I know my dad won't.

  "I was asleep." I close the door behind her before I tug a t-shirt over my head. I hastily pulled on sweatpants once the knocking started, hoping it was Falon.

  "How was the concert?" She moves to sit on a chair in the living room area of the suite I'm staying in.

  The room is more space than I need, but I had Dita reserve it so I could spend the night here with Falon. I stare briefly at the vase containing two dozen white roses on the bedside table.

  "It was fine, Mom."

  "I tried to get here in time to see you on stage." She strums her fingers against the arm of the chair. "There was a luncheon in Los Angeles yesterday that I just had to attend. By the time that was over, it was too late."

  "You're here now. Why bother coming if you missed the show?"

  She studies the roses before she looks back at me. "Your brother called me last night. He said that something is wrong. Gabriel told me that you're trying to locate Roman. I took the red eye flight to see if I can help."

  I open the small refrigerator and pull out a bottle of water. I unscrew the cap before I drink half. "I need to talk to him about something. Once he's back in touch, I'm going to see him."

  "Why?" she blurts out. "What is this about?"

  I finish the last of the water as I watch her. "It's something I want to talk to him about first."

  She pulls on the neckline of the dark blue blouse she's wearing. "I'm your mother, Asher. You can tell me anything."

  There's irony in there somewhere, I'm just too tired and pissed off to seek it out right now.

  "I have to meet my manager soon. I'm doing a segment on one of the morning shows." I motion towards the washroom. "Right now I'm hopping in the shower. If you want to stay, order us both some coffee. If you don't, I'll talk to you after I talk to dad."

  "What's going on with you?" She stands. "You're not acting like yourself and who are those roses for? Is there a woman in here, Asher? Is she in the bathroom?"

  I laugh. "The roses are for my girlfriend. I wish to hell she was here but she's not."

  "You have a girlfriend? Since when?"

  "Since I realized that I can't fucking live without her," I mutter under my breath as I walk into the washroom and slam the door behind me.

  CHAPTER 39

  Falon

  "When I was a really little girl, I hated these three freckles that are on my face." I touch the skin under my left eye. "I had a pretty small face back then, and the freckles seemed really big."

  Her small hand reaches out towards me, brushing against my face. "You mean these three freckles here?"

  I nod. "I used to tell my mom that I wanted plastic surgery to have them removed."

  "What did your mom say?"

  I adjust the front of the dress she's wearing, tugging on a pink bow to move it back into place. "She told me that when I grew up, I'd like those freckles. She said that they would make me different than every other girl in the whole wide world."

  Her fingers graze over the freckles, tracing an invisible line between them. "Your mommy was right. The freckles make you different. They make you really beautiful."

  I swallow hard to chase back the emotion I feel. "One day when you're a grown up girl, Olivia, you're going to look at this spot that's right above your lip and you're going to think it's the most beautiful part of your pretty face."

  Her eyes dart up to her mom's face. "Did you hear that, Mommy? Falon says I'm going to be beautiful."

  Her mom, Sadie, smiles through a veil of tears. "You're beautiful now, Sweetheart. You know that Daddy and I think that."

  "My brother, Cory, tell me I'm pretty sometimes." She taps her hands on my shoulders. "I think he's pretty too."

  I look over to where her brother and her dad are standing. I'd booked the Reynolds family in for a shoot to commemorate their wedding anniversary. Hunter Reynolds is the owner of many of the city's most acclaimed restaurants. His wife is just as well known. She's a doctor and an advocate for organ donors. They have a handsome son, Cory, who is pre-occupied with a game on his dad's phone. Their daughter, Olivia, is only three-years-old.

  She's a beautiful little girl with big blue eyes and brown hair. She was excited when she arrived but as soon as I stood behind the camera to take the first shot, her hand darted to her lips. She was trying to shield a small, circular brown mole that is there, hovering just over the right side of her mouth.

  "Why don't we try taking one picture and then I can show it to you and see what you think. Does that sound like a deal to you?"

  Her tongue darts over her bottom lip. "It's a deal."

  ***

  "We met at Noah's apartment last year," Sadie says as she holds out her hand towards Asher. "I'm friends with his wife, Alexa. I think it was at a birthday party for the twins."

  "You're right. It was at Noah's kids' birthday party. I remember that. "He pats Cory on the top of the head as they all stand in the doorway of my studio. "Your kids have gotten big."

  "Time flies, doesn't it?" She brushes past him. "We need to get going, but it was great seeing you again, Asher. Say hi to your brothers for us."

  "Will do."

  I stand in silence watching as the Reynolds family leaves my studio. The shoot had gone very well once Olivia felt comfortable. We laughed afterwards and I promised her that I'd stop by their apartment later this week with a picture of myself when I was her age. I plan on picking one up from my parents' house tomorrow when I'm in Brooklyn for dinner.

  "I don't know how to make up for what happened in Philadelphia." Asher walks towards me, his hands clenched in front of him. "I lost track of time, Falon. When I went to find you, you'd already left."

  I turn away from him. I want to hug him. I really want to kiss him, but I'm still reeling from what happened two days ago. I had gone to Maya's aunt's house. She was there at the door to greet me with a compassionate ear and a cup of tea.

  We sat awake for a few hours talking about what I was feeling. I told her about Karen, and the other version of Asher that I saw on the stage. I went on and on about my work, and the Bishop Hotel contract and every client I hope to get in the future. Then I cried when I talked about my family and how I feel like I'm just one of a crowd, a number, not a person. I stopped finally after telling her about the woman calling me Seven, the same name I carried for years in my own home.

  She didn't pass judgment. Maya just sat and listened and when I was done talking, we crawled into the queen size bed in her aunt's guest room and we fell asleep.

  "I'm sorry I left," I apologize, not because I think he expects it, but because I want to. "I tried to text you to tell you I was leaving. I should have pushed my way into your dressing room but I was exhausted."

  "I planned on us having more time together before the concert," he breathes. "I wanted to hold you before I took the stage. I missed you so much."

  Those same words linger on my tongue. I want to say them, but I don't. I turn back around. "I had to get out of there. There were so many people waiting to talk to you. They love you. They love the guy who sang to them. It was strange to see you up there like that. Not strange in a bad way. You're just different on the stage."

  "I'm not that guy on the stage. I'm this guy. I'm the guy who can't stop thinking about you," he says hoarsely as he takes a heavy step towards me. "I never stop thinking about you, Falon."

  I shoot him a look. "It felt like a lot. I think that was because of that call I got from that woman and then we didn't have a chance to
talk before your concert."

  "I wanted to explain things to you." He's so close to me now. He doesn't touch me. "I wanted to talk about Karen and about other things."

  "Who is she?" I reach up to touch him, but I don't. My hands fall to my side. "Is she someone important to you?"

  "No. Not anymore. Karen was my wife."

  CHAPTER 40

  Asher

  There's no reason to hide the truth at this point. I would have told her the same thing, just as bluntly, in Philadelphia but there wasn't time before I took the stage. I knew her expression would look exactly like this when she heard the news. It's a mixture of confusion and sadness. I'm not proud that I was married. I hate that it happened.

  "I met her in rehab," I begin even though she doesn't ask for more of an explanation. "She was recovering too. It bonded us together in some fucked up way and then she got pregnant."

  Her hand jumps to her chest. She's shielding her heart. "There's a baby?"

  "A boy, not mine. I insisted on a DNA test, the results came back but by then I'd already had the marriage annulled."

  Her brows perch as she tilts her head. "You had the marriage annulled before you knew if the baby was yours?"

  "I had it annulled before I knew there was a baby," I correct her. "We got married right after I got out of rehab. We slept together once. We mostly just fought so I had the marriage annulled a few weeks later."

  "When did you find out about the baby?"

  My jaw tightens. "It was months later. I stepped up to the plate right away. I wanted to work out support and custody but my lawyer thought a DNA test was a good idea."

  She rubs her palms on the front of the white shorts she's wearing. "If it wasn't your baby, the DNA was a good idea."

  "Maybe," I admit. "Maybe not. I would have loved that boy as if he was my own."