The Complete Groupie Trilogy (76 page)

Graham sighed as he placed all the paperwork and photos back into the envelope. “If there’s anything I’ve learned in this last year it is that life is short. You have to live it in the way that seems right to you and no one else. I knew when I saw that photo from the church that I’d been forcing myself to live a lie.” He glanced at Andy. “Forcing you to live a lie. And now look where it got you.”

It dawned on her that finally the situation has reversed. He was sitting at her hospital bedside considering how his actions might have put her there. She had to let him off the hook. “Graham, there’s something I think you should know.”

He held up his hand. “On some level I’ve always known. I was in denial because I wanted you and I needed you. And I thought that was enough.” Graham looked up at Vanni. “You’ve got yourself a good woman there. The best. And I wish you both the best of luck in your new life together,” he said as
he set them both free.

Vanni went over to where Graham sat in his wheelchair to shake his hand. “Thanks, Graham.” He gestured at all the envelopes that virtually saved his ass. “For everything.”

Graham nodded. He wasn’t happy, he wasn’t even sad. He was resigned. And he was ever the businessman. “In spite of everything I hope you stay with us, Vanni. I’ve heard the new stuff and I really think it can take you to the next level. I’d love to be a part of that journey.”

Vanni just smiled. “I’ve got a lot of things to think over,
but I’d say chances are good.”

Graham nodded before he looked over at Andy where she sat in the bed. Wordlessly he lifted himself up on the handlebars and rose to his feet, pulling some crutches from the side of the chair. She stared on incredulously as he took the two steps that remained between the chair and her bed. There were tears in her eyes as he perched beside her and took her into a hug he had always envisioned being a new beginning instead of an end. “I will always love you,” he whispered into her hair. “If you ever need me, you know where to find me.”

She nodded through her tears as she watched him struggle to stand and then walk on unsteady feet back to his chair. With a wave he turned and wheeled out of her room.

Vanni took her into his arms as she sobbed softly, thinking how far they had all come. It
had been a helluva six months.

That year they celebrated Christmas at Iris’s house, with Jacob and Angelo present along with a stunning clientele of fabulous and exciting people. Iris doted on her like a mother hen, deliriously happy about the new addition to their non-traditional family. She even insisted on giving the baby a whole pre-birth wardrobe makeover with two full suitcases to s
end with them on the trip home.

In the following days they recuperated in the hotel suite where they had conceived their child. It was a celebration of love where he pampered Andy in ways she had only dared fantasize. There was breakfast in bed, long slow bubble baths and nights of endless loving that didn’t have to result in the raw passion that had always threatened to consume them before. Instead he was gentle and he was sweet as they consummated something much deeper than either of them had ever imagined.

To offset all the gossip about the wedding that never was, Graham had booked Vanni for a sort of “come back” appearance during New Year’s Eve telecasts from New York City. His groupies screamed at his feet in undying devotion when he took the stage solo to sing the old ballads that had made him a star. None of them complained that he wasn’t married. In a weird sort of way that made him all the more theirs.

He gave them a good show, but it was the woman curled up in his robe in a fancy hotel suite for whom he truly sang. She smiled every time his eyes looked into the camera. She was finally secure in his love for her, despite the fact they couldn’t go open with anything yet.

Honestly, she didn’t really want to. She enjoyed their safe little bubble.

By January 6, 2011 Vanni did what he had always hoped he would do. He carried Andy over the threshold of his Redondo Beach house to wel
come her home to L.A. properly.

They didn’t talk much about the future yet, except to daydream about the baby. It was simply a foregone conclusion they’d be together. They even considered finding a bigger home complete with a back yard for their growing family. Andy could tell how much it meant to him to provide the kind of idyllic life he had been denied. She had no idea that he had already decided if they could make it without a glitch to Valentine’s Day he would go all out on a cheesy, campy wedding proposal the likes of which PING had never seen.

In the meantime they made up for lost time in each other’s arms. He waited on her hand and foot. He joined her for her first appointment with an L.A. based OB/GYN and was floored when he heard their baby’s heart beat for the first time. He cried tears of joy that made Andy love him all the more.

That afternoon he presented her with another charm for her bracelet. It was a baby slipper with a red ruby centered in it, to represent the arrival of their little miracle.

They knew they still had a lot to work through, specifically with the legal problems from the accident with Baylee. Their lawyer had already contacted Vanni’s attorneys with a laundry list of demands they expected him to pay, and Donny Wilke was still a volatile variable.

But Andy knew that she was finally where she belonged each night she fell asleep listening to the strong beat
of Vanni’s heart under her ear.

They had defied all the odds and were finally together. She had full faith everything else they could manage. They had been forged together through the fires of the past three and a half years. Every time he took her into his arms she knew they were stronger together n
ow than they’d ever been apart.

She’d finally earned her hard-won happily ever after.

She was determined no one would ever take it away from her again. She’d fight every force that came up against them, for her man, for her child, for her family.

Chapter Twenty-Five

January 12, 2011. Ohio.

Holly

Julian flipped through the channels of the motel TV. He couldn’t believe he was back in this stink hole of a town after being so close to his dream. He cursed everyone: Leo for blowing their whole cover, Graham for filing restraining orders against them, and Holly her persistent whining over their latest foiled opportunity.

She’d even turned a cold shoulder to him in recent weeks. God forbid he dare touch her. Somehow he knew she was still pining over Giovanni in a way that made no sense to him. They’d find someone else. They always did.

In the meantime they returned to Ohio, tails tucked firmly between their legs, back to hustling like they did when they were kids. They had hitchhiked across the fucking country once, wasn’t that enough?

When was it their turn?

Holly didn’t say much as she walked through the door of the no-name motel they rented by the week. She handed him a cheap bottle of booze from the bag. “What?” he said. “No pretzels?”

She glared at him as she shoved a bag his direction.

“Still mad at me, huh?” he said as she disappeared into the bathroom. “You know, it’s not my fault this time. You can blame your good pal, Leo. He’s the one that got you invested into that lowlife Giovanni Carnevale,” he sneered. “We almost made it across the finish line,” he said. “Too bad for us the fucker has a pork fetish.”

He laughed at his own joke as he flipped through more channels. “Hey, look at it this way,” he said as he called through the walls. “At least you don’t have to pretend you’re pregnant anymore. That never ends well. Remember Denver?” he asked. “I remember Denver.”

She still hadn’t answered so he lumbered from his reclining position on the sagging mattress and walked over to the bathroom door. “Did you hear what I said?”

She opened the door. “Yeah. I don’t have to pretend I’m p
regnant anymore,” she repeated.

“Right,” he said as
he turned back toward the bed.

A tiny plastic object flew over his shoulder and landed on the bed. Out of curiosity he bent for a closer look. It was a pregnancy test.

It was positive.

He turned back to see the triumphant look on her face. “Pack your bags,” she said. “We’re going back to L.A.”

BOOK THREE

MOGUL

Prologue

June 17, 2011

I watched the first explosion light up the southern California skyline in disbelief. This couldn’t be happening again. A year to the date of the last disaster, it was all happening again. It was as if there could be no other conclusion; as if fate always had another idea. After all these years, after all our struggles, I guess I should have known there could be no happily ever after. We had always been star-crossed lovers, doomed to die out just like a candle that had reached the end of its wick. My soul eked from my pores as I watched fire consume the place where we had lived, the home where we had loved – the life that we had made. Smoke rose from the sparkling, crackling embers of my broken dreams. Everything around me was in ruins, and I knew once again it was my fault. I learned a long time ago that love did not come without a cost. Everyone I had ever counted on had left – one way or another. I tried to keep everyone at arm’s length, sure if I never made any promises I could never truly let anyone down any more than they could let me down. I didn’t care who I hurt as long as I got my way – which was all the benefits of love without any accountability.

It was all supposed to be uncomplicated…so simple. But if I had learned anything over the past four years it was that love was never simple.

The only thing I could count on was being alone. And the bitch of it was I knew I deserved it. This was my penance for bei
ng selfish, entitled. Indulged.

Scared.

But as scared as I had always been, nothing matched the terror watching that house explode knowing the person who had trusted me most, even when she never had any reason to, was inside. Even as I raced toward the burning building, I knew that my heroics were futile. The bomb had obliterated the house in an instant, taking with it everything I had ever treasured. I saw it with my eyes, why didn’t I believe it in my heart? Why couldn’t I let go?

Why had I never been able to let go?

I had been so selfish.

And now the woman I loved more than anyone before her had paid the ultimate price, simply because I hadn’t loved her more than I loved myself.

But if it was the last thing I would ever do, I’d risk it all to save her. I’d finally give her the love she never should have been denied.

When the burning beams tumbled around me as I ran deeper into the smoking inferno of my home, I honestly didn’t care if they consumed me.

If we couldn’t live together, we’d die together.

I would never let go.

Andy… I’ll never let go…

CHAPTER ONE

Redondo Beach, California

January 10, 2011

Giovanni Carnevale was smiling as he brought the tray up the stairs to their open loft bedroom that overlooked the Pacific. He was no chef by far, but he could whip up a pretty decent breakfast, even if he did say so himself. There was whole wheat toast, slightly buttered, with a teaspoon of blackberry jam. The eggs were fluffy and light, the turkey bacon was crisp and not too greasy.

She hadn’t been able to tolerate greasy ever since she’d gotten pregnant.

There was a small glass of juice and a larger glass of water, to help her swallow her prenatal vitamin. And there was a rose in a small bud vase, just to brighten her morning.

He made sure there were always fresh flowers around to brighten her mornings.

He paused as he reached their enormous, rumpled bed. Her dark hair fanned across the pillow like an angel’s wings. She looked about ten years younger when she slept, and sometimes he’d just hold her in his arms as he memorized every feature, every curve.

He was in awe of her. He loved her quiet strength, her enduring optimism, her ceaseless passion. She filled all the holes that life had drilled into him over the years, many he’d self-inflicted. And yet she loved him anyway.

She loved him best.

He smiled as he placed the tray on a table by the bed. He let the robe slip from his strong shoulders and fall in a heap by the bed. He slid under the covers and she stirr
ed slightly, but did not waken.

She wore a baby blue nightgown that had risen up toward her hips as she slept. Her flesh was milky white, and his large, strong hand moved along her silky skin. He hungered for her in ways he had never imaged. The taste of her lips, the smell of her skin – it was more intoxicating than the finest wine. His body stirred just from lying next to her. The fingers from his other hand brushed away the hair from her beautiful face, and he bent to kiss her softly on her parted lips.