Abby Road (34 page)

Finally Todd let out a sigh. “I need to leave here,” he said tightly. “Now—” He broke off, his jaw still set. “I’ll see you at home.” He gave me one quick, narrow glance as he breezed by, leaving the studio.

I stood, baffled.

“Did you hear me? Come on, babe.” The voice came from behind, though it seemed far away. It startled me, and I jumped. “I said, let’s get back to work.”

“What just happened?” My eyes stared into the empty space where Todd had disappeared behind the elevator doors. How long ago was that? It felt like hours. “What were you arguing about?”

“Hey!”
Max barked.

I jumped again and whirled around.

His face was grave, a little frightening, and beads of perspiration dotted his hairline. “We’ve still got work to do tonight, babe. Stop wasting time.”

My scrutiny slid off Max’s face and down to the floor. I was replaying what he’d just said. Yes, I heard his words, but I couldn’t comprehend their meanings.

“Are you just gonna stand there like an idiot?” he said.

I felt myself nodding faintly, confused.

Max’s face slowly became less taut. He sighed, looking exasperated now. “You’re not gonna be any good to me tonight, are you?”

I shook my head, understanding his words that time.

“Okay. Go, but I want you back here first thing—”

I didn’t wait to hear any more.

“First thing!” He called after me when I grabbed my purse and dashed out the door.

{chapter 24}

“TICKET TO RIDE”

T
he stupid elevator was taking too long. I pressed and pressed the down button until the tip of my finger turned red.

“Come on,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “Come
on
.”

Finally a
ding
announced the elevator arrival. The doors opened. Todd wasn’t inside, but I didn’t really expect him to be. I couldn’t push the lobby button fast enough. The mirrored doors closed and the car silently dropped without stopping until it hit the ground level.

The lobby was empty and dim except for the emergency track lights running along the walls. I flew to the main entrance, pushing open the two sets of heavy glass doors.

The hot night air hit me like a slap; the Santa Ana winds whisked through the palm trees, rustling the dark blue awning that tented the entrance. Even for a Sunday night, the sidewalks were packed. The night clubs were just closing up, kicking their patrons out after last call. Music from the bar next door bounced and echoed down the street, the ground pulsating under my feet.

I yelled for Todd, but even if he were still there, there was no way he could hear me. The line at the curb to catch a taxi was short. I’d probably just missed him. I pulled my cell from my bag, jabbing at speed dial number one. It rang once, straight to voice mail. I ended the call and then spun in a circle, not sure what to do next.

“You lost, sunshine?” A woman in a short black dress was leaning against the side of the building behind me, her fingers flicking ashes off the end of a long cigarette. “Are you alone?” she asked, fluffing the back of her curly red hair and then taking a long drag.

“No!” I gasped over the noise of the crowd. “I’m just looking for—”

“He went that a-way.” Her red-tipped finger pointed up the street. She lifted her shoulders, smiled, and then pulled another drag. “Looked like he was in a hurry.”

“Why did he . . .” I asked aloud, ignoring her. Then it occurred to me. “I need a car.”

Without another thought, I swam my way through the bodies on the street, attempting to get to the parking lot behind the building. I heard a few people calling my name, fans recognizing me, but I kept stroking forward.

“Hey!” the woman in the black dress called out to me. I peered back while still moving ahead. “Maybe you should just let him go.”

This comment made me hesitate for a second, half of my brain wanting to tell her that she had no idea what she was talking about, while the other half wondered if she was right.

When I was ten minutes from Malibu, he finally answered his cell.

“Hello, Abby.” His voice sounded calm, which surprised me.

“Todd!” I gasped, insanely frantic. “Where are you?”

The line was silent, and then I heard him exhale. “I’m at my house. Would you please come here before you go home?”

“Of course. Are you okay?”

Again, he didn’t answer right away. “I’ll see you soon.”

After crashing through the front door, I saw the top of his head. He was sitting in the middle of the couch, bent forward, elbows on his knees. Relieved at the serene picture, I blew an exhale out of my rounded lips and stepped into the living room.

As I passed the kitchen, the aroma of turkey bacon from the breakfast he had fried while I was on the phone with Dallas early that morning still lingered in the air. I approached him from behind and touched his shoulder.

“I’m sorry I lost my cool back there,” he said. “Inexcusable. Again.”

“Don’t worry.”

“Did he tell you why?” Todd’s green eyes were unreadable as he watched me walk around to the front of the couch.

“He didn’t tell me anything. I left right after you.”

Todd looked away and sighed, running his thumb and fingers over his eyebrows. When I sat down beside him, he immediately stood and walked to the French doors. He unlatched the lock and opened both doors wide. The sky and ocean were black; the wind howled ominously in the darkness. He was standing with his back to me, raking his fingers through his hair and then rubbing the back of his neck.

“Do you have a headache?” I asked. “Can I get you something?”

He dropped his hand. “It’ll pass.”

The instant he turned around to me, I realized the calmness I
thought
I’d seen upon entering the room had actually been a façade. His arms were hanging at his sides, his hands curled into fists, his muscles pulled tight. Extreme stress covered every inch of his frame. I hated seeing him like that.

“What . . . ?” I began gingerly as I stood up from the couch, taking small, careful steps toward him. “What were you arguing about?”

His eyes narrowed, as if he were searching for some kind of answer on my face. “Different things,” he replied vaguely.

“Like what?”

“I’ve been trying to decide how or
what
—” He stopped there. His eyes drifted from my face to the empty space beside me. Then his lips sealed together.

“Whatever it is,” I said, placing myself directly in his line of vision, “I can handle it.”

“Can you?” Something about his skeptical, almost cynical tone made my chest feel hollow.

“I’m a big girl,” I assured him, forcing myself to stand a little straighter as proof.

But there was no smile on Todd’s face. Instead, he paced one complete lap around the room before finally sitting down. “I need to ask you something. It’s not an actual question, though.” He looked up at me. When I didn’t move, he patted the spot on the couch next to him.

I sat. “What is it?”

After a hesitation, he said, “I just need to know something, and please, be honest.”

“Always.” My voice cracked, for some reason.

He bent forward, like when I’d first come in, focusing on his hands. “Would you quit?” he said.

“Quit what?”

His eyes made their way up, looking straight ahead but not at me. “Singing,” he clarified, his voice low. “Would you quit singing if I asked you to?” Finally he looked at me. I’d never seen this expression. Doubt, maybe? “Your career,” he added.

I backed away an inch. “Why?”

“I just need to know.”

“Todd, these last few weeks have been extra stressful, but . . .”

“That’s not—”

“It’ll get better,” I cut in.

He shook his head and looked down again.

“The record will be finished next month. We’ll get a break then. Probably. And Max will—”

He lifted his gaze to me, his emerald eyes cold.

“Whatever you two were fighting about, I’m sure it will blow over.” My voice was weak and shaky, totally unconvincing, even to myself. “Right?”

His eyes looked deep into mine, searching, as before. After a minute, he reached over and took my hand. It was the first time he had touched me all night. He squeezed my fingers, his skin so warm, reheating mine. I was beginning to feel calmer as his intense expression melted away.

“Thank you for answering honestly,” he said a moment later. “It makes things easier.” His lips were tight, but they bent at the edges into a flat smile.

I smiled back, a little unsure. “I’m sorry this is such a nightmare for you.”

“It isn’t really,” he said.

I bumped his shoulder, trying to be playful. “You know I can’t just
quit
,” I said, exhaling a little laugh to lighten the mood.

Todd’s eyebrows pulled together ever so slightly.

“It’s not like I can wake up one morning and decide to hop on a plane and take a trip or whatever.”

“I know,” he agreed, “but I can.”

“Oh.” I blinked. “Well, yeah.” I blinked again. Several times. “I guess you can.” It hadn’t escaped my notice how worn out he looked, how completely stressed.

A little vacation away from all of this madness might do him a world of good.

“Todd.” I smiled, feeling relieved by the simple solution. “That’s a great idea.”

He sat back, looking surprised by my answer. “I’m glad you feel that way, because I’m leaving tonight.”

My smile dropped, but I tried to remain calm as I gaped at Todd, who was staring intently at something on the rug between his feet.

“I totally get it that you need a break,” I said after a moment, “but why right this second? Isn’t that a little drastic?”

He didn’t look at me.

“I mean, believe me, I know this is all psycho-insane if you’re not used to it.” I tried to laugh but couldn’t quite get there. “I
have
to take it, but you don’t.”

When he looked at me, he still wasn’t smiling, so I smiled for the both of us and went on, feigning support. What else could I do?

“I suppose I’ll have to find
some
way to be the
cool, supportive
girlfriend, but just don’t stay away too long. Okay?” I was growing nervous at his silence. “Say hi to Chandler for me, and Lindsey, and Steve, and, uhh, Sammy. And bring me back one of those tie-dyed shirts that came in last month. Oh, and a jar of red currant—”

I stopped cold, responding to Todd squeezing my hand like a vise grip. His jaw was clenched, his face pale. And then, just as he turned from me, his eyes snapped shut.

That was when I realized, much too late, that I was getting it all wrong.

“I’m sorry,” was all I heard. I think he repeated it several times, but I couldn’t be sure.

The next thing I knew, his hand had vanished from mine, and he was gone from the living room. The hot Santa Ana winds blew, knocking the French doors against the wall.

“Todd?” I exhaled, not really sure how long I’d been sitting there alone. I heard him in the bedroom. Stumbling through the doorway, I first noticed his half-packed suitcase lying open on the bed, dresser drawers ajar. I felt a wave of panic.

“You don’t have to do this,” I said toward the open closet. “You don’t have to . . .” I choked out the next word, a little disbelievingly, “go.”

“Yes, I do.” Todd’s even-toned voice came from deep inside his closet. He had already decided.

“Why?” I asked when he reappeared.

But he didn’t answer.

“Is this because of Max?”

Todd’s eyes flashed to mine and then back to his packing.

“Whatever you two were fighting about, tell me. I can fix it.”

“No, you can’t fix it, Abby, and I can’t fix it, either. It’s something I wish I didn’t even
know
. Apparently, it doesn’t matter. Just promise me that you’ll stay close to the guys—Nate and Hal especially. They’re better friends than you realize. Molly, too. Promise me.”