Sway (21 page)

Chapter Thirty-Nine

The band held an after-party at a mansion nearby. The house was all tile and granite and stainless steel—cold and filled with strangers. I didn’t have the desire to mingle with people I didn’t know. Instead, I stood apart, still thinking about Eric and trying to stay calm. My hands were sweaty, and I kept wiping them on my shorts.

“He’s really something, isn’t he?” Beth said, standing next to me.

“Who?”

“Your old boyfriend, Eric Wentworth.” A look of mischief spread across her features. I almost groaned.

“Yes, he is.”

She laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to steal him. Though it wouldn’t technically be stealing, would it? It’s not like you guys are together.”

I looked across the room at Gage surrounded by half a dozen women. “I thought you wanted Gage.”

She stared at her fingernails but I could see her mouth tighten. “I told you I didn’t want your sloppy seconds.” A loud burst of laughter erupted from Gage, echoing across the room. “Besides, Eric Wentworth is way more successful. And super sexy.”

“Duh.” Not that I wanted her to notice. “But then, I’ve always known that.”

Beth eyed me. “So, do you think that song he sang was for Lacey?”

My mind went blank. “What song?”

“The one about regrets,” she said.

The rock was back in my stomach and I felt sick. I’d thought that song was for me. I didn’t even consider it could be for Lacey.

“I don’t know,” I mumbled.

“Should we ask him?” Ignoring my protests, Beth waved her hand at Eric who had just come into the room. “Eric! Over here.”

Eric just stared at her, incredulous. I’m sure he was wondering why, after years of pretending he didn’t exist, she was interested in him now. She wasn’t deterred by his lack of enthusiasm either.

“Come here,” she said, beckoning him closer. But instead of asking him about the song, she invited him to the beach house for a party I didn’t know we were having.

“Thanks,” he said to the invitation. “I’ll let you know.” Then he bolted.

I wandered through the house, watching my family and friends and the band mingling with each other. Lacey and Sam were back in their personal bubble, Sam whispering in Lacey’s ear. Even Mari and Charlie sat on a couch with their arms wrapped around each other, watching a baseball game on a huge flat screen. Loneliness threatened me with its awful grip. I wanted nothing more than to put my arms around Eric, to feel his heart beating in my ear.

In one of the vast living rooms, Gage and Shelby were arguing again. When Gage caught me looking, he shrugged away from her.

“So…” he said. It was the first time I’d seen him uncertain. “Good concert.”

“Yeah.” Shelby glared at us from across the room. “What’s with her?”

“Who?” Gage asked, but he wouldn’t look away from me.

“Shelby.”

He shifted his feet. “I don’t know. She’s freaking out for some reason.” He paused. “I think it has something to do with your dad.”

“My dad?”

“Yeah, you know how much she wants him.” He looked at me earnestly now. “You really should try and keep her away from him. I wouldn’t want to see your dad taken in by someone like her.”

I frowned. He was right, but this wasn’t something I wanted to bond with him over.

“I don’t know if I have to worry about that anymore,” I said. “Beth seems to think she has a secret boyfriend.”

He snorted. “That’s probably Shelby’s way of throwing us off the scent.”

I wasn’t interested in talking about Shelby now. I just wanted to get out of there. Eric walked into the room then, an entourage following. He was laughing, the skin around his eyes crinkled in such a cute way. I ached to be standing next to him, laughing with him.

Gage was still talking, but I didn’t hear a word. All I heard was Eric. His laughter, his voice, his music from earlier playing through my head. Eric glanced in my direction. I opened my mouth, as if I could say anything with him so far away, as if I had the courage.

I left Gage, not even bothering to excuse myself, and headed toward Eric. I just wanted to be near him. To show him somehow without words what I felt.

When I got close, he turned to me and smiled. Sweat broke out on my palms.

A man standing with Eric turned my way. “So, did we blow you away?” he asked. It was the band member I had spoken to before the concert.

“Definitely.”

“Should have come to see us sooner, eh?” He winked at me.

“Yes.” I gathered my courage and looked up at Eric. “You guys were amazing.”

Eric smiled. “Thanks. You really liked it, then?”

“Of course!” I gushed, then bit my lip.

“I saw you singing along to the words.”

I blushed. “Yeah, you know. I’m a fan. Always have been.”

The group around us faded away, leaving Eric and me alone.

“I would have come to see you perform before,” I said. “I just…”

Eric gave an uncomfortable cough and looked down at his feet.

I moved closer. “You really did it, just like you said you would.” His eyes met mine. “Standing there listening to you, listening to all those people screaming your name and singing along. It was incredible. I’m really proud of you.”

“Thanks.”

The way he stared at me had my palms all sweaty again. I tried to wipe them off on my hips without him noticing.

“So, did I make it? The next Frank Sinatra?”

I smiled. “More like the one-and-only Eric Wentworth.”

“Sounds a bit conceited.” He laughed, the lines he didn’t have eight years ago appearing around his eyes.

“It’s good you went with The Eric Wentworth Band, or people might have gotten the wrong impression.”

“Just like you said.”

My face heated at the memory of that conversation, the prelude to our first kiss. “And I finally came, like I promised.”

“Cheering me on the loudest, isn’t that what you said?” His head tilted toward mine.

I nodded.

“You remember.”

How could he be surprised? I remembered every one of our moments. “I can still taste the jalapenos.”

Eric’s face went beet red, just as it had back then. “You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”

I laughed. “Not a chance.”

Eric looked over my head and his smile faded.

Suddenly Beth was there, leaning her arm on my shoulder. “Ugh. Your boyfriend is driving me crazy.”

Eric’s face clouded over. I frowned. “Who, Gage? You know we’re not—”

“Whatever.” Beth waved her hand in front of my face. “I’m leaving. You coming?”

I wasn’t ready to leave. I hadn’t said all the words that were bubbling at the surface, waiting to be released. Hope had risen inside me, hope that his song had been for me after all.

“I’ll see you later, Ava,” Eric said. He walked off.

My heart sank and the words sank with it. Our moment was over.

* * * * *

The next morning, my phone woke me from a dreamless sleep. Rubbing my eyes, I grabbed it from the bedside table. It was a text from Lexi.

“Finally,” I muttered. She hadn’t answered any of the texts I sent her last night.

Lexi:
Can u meet me for lunch? I need to talk to u.

Me:
Sure, where?

Lexi:
In-N-Out Burger. Sherman Oaks.

Me:
K, I’ll b there.

* * * * *

I took my tray of burger, fries and diet cola to the table. Lexi was already digging into her own food.

“This better be good,” I said, frowning at my heart-attack-on-a-plate. “I don’t know if anything is worth eating this stuff.”

Lexi didn’t laugh. “You don’t have to eat it.”

I looked up at her and grinned. “I’m doing it for you.” She didn’t smile back. “What’s wrong?”

Lexi stuffed some fries in her mouth and chewed, avoiding my eyes. I tried to figure out how the gigantic hamburger would ever fit in my mouth. In anyone’s mouth. Lexi took a loud slurp of her soda.

She swallowed. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

I picked up the hamburger and took a bite. Grease dripped down my chin. I would have gagged if not for the burst of meaty, ketchupy flavors inundating my mouth. It had been a really long time since I’d eaten a burger.

“Gage isn’t who he says he is.”

“
Holy crap
, this is good.”

“Focus Ava,” Lexi snapped. “What’s his last name?”

“Johnson.”

She nodded. “His real name isn’t Gage.”

I froze, teeth locked around the burger.

“It’s Leonard.”

I pulled back from the bite and stared at Lexi. It took a moment before the switch flipped.

“Leonard?” Realizing I was crushing it, I put the hamburger back on the tray. My fingers had left dents in the bun. “As in—”

“As in Leonard Johnson. The father of my child.”

We stared at each other, time filling the space when words could not.

“Oh. My—”

Lexi nodded. “I know.”

I leaned back in my chair. “Gage is Elle’s dad.” She nodded again. “He’s the guy who took off on you when you were pregnant.”

“The guy who apparently stayed in LA even though he told me he was leaving the state,” Lexi said bitterly. “The guy who changed his first name, and started dating my best friend. A girl he happens to know a lot about.”

I blinked. “Wait, what?”

Lexi sighed and looked down at her food. “I told him a lot about you back then. It was just after college and I missed you. I told Leo…him…everything about you because I had no one else to talk to. He listened, he asked questions, he seemed really interested.” She snorted and her face turned sour. “It turns out he was
really
interested, just not in me.”

My heart dropped for her.

“I had no idea his dad and your dad were on the same show together,” she said. “He never told me that.”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t make sense. Why would he go out with me when he knows we’re still friends?”

“I have no idea.”

Thinking back, Gage had never been interested in hearing about Lexi. He’d avoided my orchestra performances, knowing she’d be there. But had he really thought he could avoid her forever?

“Why would he be so interested in me, though?” I asked.

Lexi stirred a fry around in her pool of ketchup. “I don’t know. Back then, I just thought he was a good listener. Maybe hearing about you from his dad and me… I don’t know, maybe he felt like he knew you.” She held up a hand when I opened my mouth. “I don’t know why. It’s weird.”

I frowned. “It’s creepy.”

“All I know is how much of a jerk he was back then. Maybe he’s changed now but…”

“He so hasn’t,” I said, finishing her sentence. She raised her shoulders. “He knows you’re here. If he had changed, he’d look you up. He’d want to know his own daughter.”

I pressed my thumb and finger on the bridge of my nose. Gage had seemed so perfect in so many ways. If it wasn’t for Eric and my unkillable feelings for him, I might still be with Gage. I might even be in love with him. Then how would I feel at this moment?

“I’m sorry, Ava,” Lexi said.

I looked up, surprised to see tears in her eyes. “Hey. There’s nothing for you to be sorry for. I broke up with him.” I reached my hand across the table and grabbed onto hers. “Now I’m extra glad I did.”

“But last night.” She slid her hand away from mine. “He was there.”

“I never invited him. I don’t even know how he knew we were there.”

Lexi set her cup on the table with a loud bang. Droplets of soda flipped out the straw. “So you don’t like him anymore?”

“No.”

She closed her eyes and sighed, this time in relief. “Thank the freaking powers that be.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “Otherwise your news, while still unwelcome, would have been very, very painful.”

“You think I shouldn’t have told you?”

“That’s not what I meant.” I bit into a fry. “It just sucks. Sucks that he fooled everyone. You especially.”

She gave a half-smile. “Thanks.” Then she crooked an eyebrow. “So what now? Revenge?”

I pressed my lips together to keep from agreeing right away. “Let’s wait and see.”

Chapter Forty

My mind wrestled with the Gage dilemma. I didn’t know whether I should tell Beth and Dad the truth about him. Beth may have soured on him but maybe knowing he’d abandoned a child would give her that extra push. And Dad—well, he’d treated Gage like part of the family—an Elliot. Would his opinion change when he knew about Lexi? I couldn’t be sure.

At home, Beth was busy planning her party. Papers and flyers were strewn across the kitchen table, the phone book lay open in front of her. She didn’t lift her head when I walked into the kitchen; she just kept chewing on the end of a pen while flipping through a magazine.

“Need help?” I asked.

She widened her eyes in surprise.

“I know I’m not great at this kind of stuff, but I’ll do whatever you need.” The corners of her mouth pulled up in a smirk. “Okay, maybe not whatever. You know, within reason.”

She stared at me a second before turning the magazine my way. “What do you think of this?”

It was a picture of a stack of something—food maybe—sitting on a shiny white plate. I couldn’t tell what kind of food it was, or if it was even edible. I glanced up at Beth who was waiting for a response. I raised my eyebrows.

She let out a disgusted sigh. “Never mind.”

“I don’t even know what that is!” It looked more like some weird art project than food. “Besides, who’s going to make it?”

“A caterer.” Her look had
duh
written all over it.

“We’re supposed to be saving money,” I said. “Remember?”

She glowered at me before tossing the magazine aside. “Fine.”

I took a seat at the table and began sorting through the papers. Everything looked over-the-top and pretentious.

“Do you remember that party Mom threw…? When was it?” My fingers tapped on the table while I tried to dredge up the hazy memory. “One of Dad’s birthdays, I think.”

Beth leaned back in her chair, her eyes on me.

“It was when he did that Showboat remake for TV and he was totally obsessed with it—the old movie and Howard Keel and everything. I was thirteen maybe?”

She nodded. “I remember that, but I don’t remember any party.”

“You don’t? Mom turned the theatre room and the gym and the downstairs bedrooms into a riverboat. She had gambling tables and she booked performers and we all had to dress vintage.”

“Oh, yeah!” Beth exclaimed. “I brought Matt Stinson to that party. Dad hated him.”

I blinked. Dad actually hated one of Beth’s boyfriends? That was news to me.

“Mom really went all out that year,” Beth said. “She even sang for Dad. What was the song?”

“‘Can’t Help Loving That Man.’” Mom had been so nervous. She wasn’t much of a singer, but her voice carried the smoky tune no problem. Dad had cried.

“That was the last party Mom threw,” Beth said, half to herself. “I can’t believe I forgot about it.”

Beth and I both stared at nothing, lost inside our own memories. Mom knew exactly what worked, what people wanted, how to make everyone smile. She had been the light and it had been darkness ever since without her. Glancing at Beth, at the hardness in her features, I knew it hadn’t just been dark for me.

“So, did you have a point?” Beth asked. “Or were you just trying to make me cry?”

“You? Cry?” We shared a timid smile. “My point was theme. Maybe not something so involved as that.”

“Theme…” Beth rubbed her fingers over her lips as she considered. “I think I’ve got an idea.”

Helping Beth plan the party turned out to be more fun than I ever would have thought. I couldn’t remember spending more than fifteen minutes alone with her since we were kids. With Shelby MIA, I found myself having normal conversations with my sister, even giggling with her. Beth took her party planning seriously, and she was very good at it. An admiration I hadn’t known since I was young unveiled inside me and I was able to look at Beth with a new appreciation.

* * * * *

Our beach house burst with people, mostly strangers to me. On the main floor, the furniture had disappeared from every room, leaving only couches and a few beds covered in soft white duvets. Fur rugs covered the hardwood floors and the walls were adorned with my dad’s best art. Where there wasn’t room on a couch or a bed, guests lounged on the floor on feather pillows and velvety blankets.

Beth liked the idea of a movie for a theme. After some debate, we went with
Pillow Talk
, a late 50s movie starring Doris Day and Rock Hudson. Dad met Rock Hudson as a teen when he was just starting out in the business. Rock had given him advice and my dad had been awed by his magnetism and good-looks. He was everything my dad wanted to be. I could still remember Dad shutting himself in his room for days when he heard Rock Hudson had died of AIDS.

Doris Day echoed in every room of the house, singing about love and perhaps and wanting a man to possess her. The words spun in my head as I swished through the party in a spaghetti-strapped teal dress with a full skirt that ended just below my knees. Teal and gold jewelry sparkled on my neck and at my wrists. It was a look I’d taken straight from a scene in
Pillow Talk
.

Beth had also gone with one of Doris Day’s outfits from the movie: a long white sleeveless dress that clung to her slim frame, white gloves covering her arms, and a fur stole. She looked every inch the movie star as she played a perfect hostess. The only time her cool façade cracked was when Mari and Charlie appeared at the door.

“What are you wearing?” she asked, aghast.

Charlie smirked as Mari handed me a bottle of champagne.

Beth sputtered like a failing engine. “Didn’t you get the invitation?”

Mari turned. “Of course we did.
Pillow Talk
. So we came in our pajamas.”

Beth threw her hands in the air. I hid my grin.

“It’s not funny,” Beth snapped at me, nostrils flaring.

My grin wasn’t as hidden as I thought. “Actually, there’s a lot of scenes in the movie where the stars wear their pj’s. Mari and Charlie are sticking to the theme, in their own way.”

Beth couldn’t really be mad—more than a few guests had gone with the silk pajamas look. Not long after, any annoyance she had with Mari and Charlie died at the sight of Shelby. Her friend wore a lavender silk robe tied loosely in the front that barely covered her backside. Lacy black underwear made an appearance every time Shelby moved.

“I think it’s time to find some new friends,” I muttered to Beth as we watched Shelby strut by.

Even Dad didn’t seem to approve. “Did you forget to tell Shelby the theme?” he asked Beth. He looked as handsome as Rock Hudson in a black tux and bowtie.

“I don’t think she’s seen the movie,” I said.

I mingled through the crowds, all the while searching for Eric, hoping he had snuck in without me noticing. Sophia and Richard showed up in their most elegant fifties attire, but they came alone. No Eric. I didn’t even have Lexi by my side for support. She wasn’t ready to see Gage, no matter how many plots of revenge she had texted me over the last week. The one involving weasels and meat paste had been particularly creative.

Neither Beth nor I had wanted to invite Gage to the party, but Dad had insisted. I almost blurted out everything about him then, but I didn’t get the chance because Beth needed my help with one of the party details.

Gage now strutted around our Malibu house, looking handsome as ever in a dark suit and tie. He tried a few times to corner me in some part of the house, but each time I managed to get away.

Needing a break from the party, I went to the den and shut the door. Sitting at the piano, I flexed my fingers, imagining all the wandering emotions running through my body collecting at my fingertips. I played the first song that came to mind, Tchaikovsky’s “Piano Concert No. 1.” My upper body moved with my arms, my head nodding with the harsh chords. My eyes opened and closed, opened and closed, but I saw nothing. Only my fingers and the music existed.

With the last whispered notes, I inhaled the lingering echo and opened my eyes. Eric stood in the open doorway, as though the music had summoned him.

I looked over the line of his navy blue suit, roaming over the skinny black tie that was practically an Eric Wentworth trademark. He looked like he belonged in those clothes. Like another member of the Rat Pack, just like he always wanted. Gage had worn a similar suit, but somehow Eric made Gage look like a boy playing dress-up.

“You made it,” I said.

“I came with Adam and Britt.”

“Oh.” I fiddled with the necklace at my throat. “I’m glad you came.” I slid from the piano bench.

“Your sister is freaking me out a bit.”

“Who, Beth?” He nodded and I grimaced. “What’s she doing?”

“Talking to me.”

We eyed each other a second before we both burst into laughter.

“That is weird,” I agreed.

“So different from high school.”

My laughter died away. “Yeah.”

The distance between us seemed to disappear. Eric reached a hand out and his fingers curled around a loose strand of hair that had escaped from my tight chignon.

“You’re beautiful.” He cleared his throat. “Your playing was beautiful.”

He tucked the strand of hair behind my ear, and then his hand dropped to my shoulder, sliding down my arm until he grasped my hand in his. He pressed his fingers into my back, drawing me even closer. I snaked one arm around his neck while he rested our clasped hands against his chest. Our bodies moved together, resuming a dance that had broken off so long ago.

“Great theme,” Eric said, his voice husky.

“Beth’s idea. You fit right in.”

His lips quirked. “It’s my time.”

We swayed, oblivious to everything, as if we’d really gone back to the time of diamonds and cigarettes and music that tugged at the soul. My fingers brushed the skin above his suit collar, toyed with the hair at the back of his neck. Our legs pressed into each other’s as we danced ever closer.

“Being near you is like a forest fire,” Eric said. “Completely out of control.” I stared at him wide-eyed. “It’s from the movie. Brad says it to Jan.”

“Oh.” I deflated a little. “Good line.”

He studied my face. He opened his mouth to say something, then stopped, his eyes trained over my shoulder into the hallway behind. We stopped moving. The music continued but our dance was over.

Aunt Rose appeared in the den. “Hello, Eric,” she said.

His only acknowledgment of her was the barest of nods.

“Congratulations,” she said. “On all your success.” The words sounded hollow but maybe that’s just what I was expecting from her.

“Thank you.” Eric’s words were definitely hollow.

“If you’ll excuse us. I need to talk to my niece.” Aunt Rose motioned to me. Annoyed that she’d broken our moment, and not wanting Eric to disappear, I stepped into the hall but no further. Eric stayed rooted to his spot, his eyes following us.

Aunt Rose looked like she’d come straight from work in the fifties. Her pencil skirt was almost to her calves, and a pillbox hat rested atop her head. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Gage.”

Suddenly, I felt very tired. Sick of everything Gage. “I guess I should have told you, but we broke up. A while ago.”

“Why?”

“Could you just leave it alone, please?” I didn’t want to talk about Gage. I wanted to talk about Eric, be with Eric.

Her eyes drooped. She looked defeated and old and I felt guilty.

“I don’t love him,” I said, fully aware of Eric standing close enough to hear every word.

“Why not?” Aunt Rose’s eyes flickered to Eric then back to me. “Please don’t tell me it’s because—”

I cut her off before she could embarrass me. “He’s not who you think he is.”

Her stiletto tapped loudly on the wood floor. “Can we talk somewhere else?”

Aunt Rose wanted to hear about my feelings, and my doings, and what was going on in my life, but I just couldn’t. As much as I wanted it to, I couldn’t go back to the way things used to be. “I don’t want to talk about Gage. Just trust me on this, okay?”

Her face softened. “I do trust you.”

“Then let me make my own decisions.” She had nothing to say to that. I glanced once at Eric, still standing in the doorway of the den, watching me. Aunt Rose blocked my path back to him, as she always had. With a sigh, I turned away.