You, Me and a Palm Tree Page 8

  “Obviously, someone’s gotten the wrong idea somewhere along the line,” Thomas says.

  “I don’t have the wrong idea. Bartley is moving in—”

  “Stop, Holden,” I say, angry now. “He can only move in if I let him. I’m not letting him.”

  “It didn’t look that way from across the room.”

  “Maybe you’re looking to see it that way then.”

  “Are you telling me he wasn’t coming on to you?” Holden asks now, holding my gaze with his blue one, now hard as steel.

  I start to deny it, but I don’t want to be untruthful. “I can only tell you what I was doing. I’m not interested in responding to him in that way. Do I not have your trust?”

  Thomas looks at Holden and says, “Man, she can’t help what Bartley is thinking. Only what she does about it. And she’s telling you she’s not interested.”

  “I don’t know what else I can say, Holden. I’m going to find Mama before she hears about this and thinks we’ve ruined her wedding.” And I walk away.

  ♪

  Holden

  I FEEL THOMAS studying me with his questioning gaze. “Don’t say it,” I warn him.

  “What? That you just acted like a donkey’s behind? Okay. I won’t say it.”

  I give him a look and drop onto the sofa behind me. “I’m not imagining it, Thomas.”

  “So he’s got a thing for her. We can agree on that. But you can’t go around starting fights. And you’ve got to trust your woman.”

  “I do trust her.”

  “Sorry. But it’s not looking that way right about now.”

  “She’s vulnerable, Thomas. With everything that’s happened—”

  “You’re worried she’s going to fall for the sweet talk?”

  I shrug, miserable.

  “You know her better than that.”

  “I know the CeCe before Charlotte Gearly. I swear I think he knows she’s not in a good place, and he’s using it to move in.”

  “Come on. Seriously?”

  “I was talking to Case earlier, and he said Bartley called him up a couple days ago to congratulate him. They don’t know each other that well, but Bartley hinted he’d like to come to the wedding, so Case invited him.”

  “Seriously?” Thomas says, frowning. “Jacob Bartley isn’t someone who’s lacking for social opportunities.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m sure he wanted to come so he could ‘run into’ CeCe.”

  “You’re sounding a little paranoid there, brother. And you know we’ve already committed to that concert with him. That ought to be a bucket of laughs now.”

  “So we cancel.”

  “We can’t cancel. We signed a contract.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  I lean forward, elbows on my knees, regretting the Tequila shots I did with Case at the bar earlier. The room is starting to tip a little, left then right, maybe up and down. “What a mess.”

  “We just need to get through the concert, and that should be all of it.”

  “He’s invited her to go to Belize with him and a couple other donors. He’s asked CeCe to come along as an ambassador for the cause.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Maybe it’s just that and nothing more.”

  I give him a look, and he says, “Okay, no.”

  “I guess when you’re where he is in the world, you think you can take what isn’t yours.”

  “Holden, we haven’t done too badly ourselves, you know.”

  “Still, I don’t look around at other men’s wives, thinking I have the right to cherry-pick.”

  “Better hold up on that language, or you’re going to make CeCe madder than she already is at you. And by the way, that’s the next thing you have to fix.”

  I’d like to ignore him, pretend that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but unfortunately, he does. I stand, albeit, a bit shaky. “I need to find her.”

  “Hat in hand, buddy. Only way to get where you want to go.”

  I shake my head at him and say, “I’m on it,” walking out of the room.

  “Let me know how it goes,” Thomas calls after me, and I feel sure this is one night when he’s glad he’s not me.

  ♪

  CeCe

  MAMA IS LOOKING at me with one of her worried expressions as I try to explain what happened in the house earlier without making her overly concerned.

  “So you’re saying Holden got into a fight with Jacob Bartley?” she asks, as if she can’t imagine such a thing actually happening.

  “Not really a fight,” I say, reaching for words to put the whole thing into perspective. “Thomas kind of intervened.”

  “What was it about, honey?” Mama asks, shaking her head.

  I guess the answer must show clearly on my face because she looks surprised, saying, “CeCe, is that Jacob Bartley after you?”

  “He’s harmless, Mama. And even if he weren’t, I’m not interested in being unfaithful to Holden.”

  “And he knows that?”

  “Of course he does. He’s just — I don’t know — since we lost the baby, we’ve both been having a hard time finding our way back.”

  Mama puts a hand on my arm, her eyes suddenly pleading. “Then you have to put aside everything else until you do. You have to protect what you have, CeCe, and when something is threatening it, you have to figure out how to deal with that. The love you two have for each other hasn’t really been tested. It’s easy to be in love when life is smooth sailing. What deepens it though is riding out the rough waves and finding your way back to what brought you together in the first place.”

  “I know, Mama. You’re right. We’re going to be okay. I promise. And anyway, tonight is about you. Let’s not talk about this anymore.”

  Just then, Holden walks up, wearing an expression of apology. “Hey,” he says. He leans over and kisses Mama on the cheek.

  “If you heard about my moment of insanity, I hope you’ll forgive me. I didn’t mean to put a damper on your wedding day.”

  “Aw, honey, you didn’t,” Mama says. “But I sure would like to leave for my honeymoon knowing you two are all right.”

  Holden looks at me, and I know he’s waiting for me to answer.

  “We’re fine, Mama. This is your night. And you need to get back to it. Isn’t it time to cut the cake?”

  “I think Case is looking for you, Mira,” Holden says. “I saw him on the way through.”

  “Okay. Are you coming?”

  “Yes, Mama,” I say. “We’ll be right there.”

  She leaves us standing together then, and I can’t remember a time when this kind of awkwardness found its way between Holden and me.

  “CeCe,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

  I sigh, not sure what to say. “What were you thinking?”

  “I guess I wasn’t.”

  “I want to watch them cut the cake. Can we talk about this later?”

  He runs a hand through his hair, looking impossibly contrite and gorgeous in his tuxedo. My heart flips over, and I wonder how he can possibly not know how utterly crazy I am about him. I start to say it, but something stops me. I want to, but I just can’t seem to make the words come out.

  I walk away without saying anything at all.

  ♪

  CeCe

  EVERYONE GATHERS outside the front of the house, waiting for Mama and Case to come out. A black limousine is parked and waiting, strings of cans tied to the bumper, courtesy of Case’s band members. Holden is standing next to me, but there’s a distance between us I’ve never felt before. I want to reach out to him, say something to make the distance go away, but I stay silent.

  The front door of the house opens. Mama and Case step forward into the cheering guests who are now tossing pink rose petals at them. The scent of the flowers fill the air, and all of a sudden, tears are running down my cheeks.

  Mama looks so incredibly happy. Aunt Vera is behind her, carryi
ng her purse and another small bag. Their luggage is already waiting on the private jet Case has lined up to take them on their honeymoon.

  Spotting me, she darts over and pulls me into a warm hug. “You’ll be okay?” she asks close to my ear.

  I nod. “Have the most wonderful time imaginable.”

  She pulls back and looks into my face, as if she’s not sure she can believe me. I smile and say, “I mean it. Enjoy every moment.”

  Case is behind her then, leaning in to kiss me on the cheek and say, “I’ll take good care of her, CeCe.”

  “I know you will,” I say.

  Case shakes hands with Holden. Holden hugs Mama and kisses her cheek, and then Case and Mama slide into the limousine, waving and smiling.

  I love their happiness. It is a wonderful thing to see.

  Holden reaches for my hand as we watch them pull away down the long drive leading to the main road. I lace my fingers through his, and we stand there without looking at each other, just renewing the connection.

  Relief settles deep in my heart. I feel the apology in his touch, the seeking of forgiveness. I squeeze his hand, asking for it as well. He puts his arm around me, pulling me close. I’m instantly filled with a sense of belonging and rightness.

  There are some things in life that are indisputable. Things we just know to the very core of our soul. The fact that I belong with Holden, regardless of the curves and potholes, is one of those things. I slip my arm around his waist and say, “Let’s go home.”

  ♪

  Holden

  NO ONE EVER said that commitment and marriage would be an easy road. I’ve decided that we humans are incredibly good at hurting one another and putting dents in our relationships that aren’t that easy to smooth out again.

  For the next two weeks after the wedding, I do my best to make up for my stupidity regarding Jacob Bartley. And CeCe does her best to put it behind us.

  A couple of photos showed up on the Internet the day after the wedding. Jacob and me on the floor of Case’s living room in what looked like a wrestling position. The PR skills of Jacob’s team and our manager’s skill with the press turned it into a fun-and- games kind of photo, squashing any rumors to the contrary.

  I’m determined to focus on the part of the situation I know to be true, and that is CeCe’s love for me. The past two weeks have been like a second honeymoon for us. We’ve stayed at home for the most part, focusing on each other, working on new songs. I feel closer to her than ever.

  On the morning of Bartley’s concert, we’re lying in bed, talking quietly about the songs we’re most confident about, going over the places where we’re likely to have trouble, working out how to avoid it.

  CeCe’s head is on my chest, her hand on my mid-section, thumb rubbing back and forth as she talks. “Are you sure Thomas is okay with the new song? We haven’t rehearsed it as much as the others.”

  “He says he’s got it. You two are so in tune to each other with your singing. I think you’ll hit everything exactly right.”

  “Thanks,” she says. We’re quiet for a minute or so, the morning sun dipping into the room through a crack in the curtains. “Holden?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Promise me you won’t—”

  “You don’t have to say it, hon,” I say. “I’ve learned my lesson.”

  “Even if he provokes you?”

  “Even if.”

  “I just want this night to go off without anything bad happening.”

  “It will,” I say. “Don’t worry.”

  She slips on top of me, looking down into my face with a seriousness in her eyes that snags at my heart. “I’m yours,” she says quietly.

  “Yeah?” I say, running my hand through her long hair.

  “Yes,” she whispers, and then shows me that she means it.

  ♪

  CeCe

  IT’S BEEN A while since I’ve had stage nerves. But for the concert tonight at Warner Parks, I do.

  I think we all do.

  Holden and Thomas both are unusually quiet backstage. And I’m going through the songs in my head because I’m afraid I’ll forget the words to our most recent.

  Thomas is the first to speak, right before it’s time to go out. “We’ve got this,” he says. “For some reason, it feels like we’re trying out the bike without the training wheels, but we’re old hat.”

  “You’re right,” I say. “Holden, you good?”

  “Let’s do it.”

  We get the signal to head out just then, and, joining hands, we run on stage. The already cheering audience erupts with whistles and clapping. I pick up the microphone, and lead off with “Pleasure in the Rain.” It’s a crowd favorite, and a song I know without thinking. I see people on the front row singing along, swaying to the music, and I let myself go to that place I’ve always been able to find when I’m singing.

  I don’t know why I feared I wouldn’t find it tonight. For the next hour, the music is all that matters. When I glance at Thomas and Holden, I can see that they’ve found that same place, where only the music matters, everything else forgotten for the moment.

  We sing Holden’s new song last. I close my eyes and hear it as he first sang it to me, the words giving me a clear glimpse into his heart and soul. The audience has gone quiet, hanging on the lyrics, swaying to its beautiful melody.

  With the last note, the applause erupts. Thomas and Holden walk over to take my hands. We raise them high between us, calling out, “Thank you!” in unison.

  The roar of the crowd is demanding an encore, but we were told Jacob had asked that we not do one. I catch a glimpse of him at the side of the stage. Thomas and Holden release my hands, Holden reaching for his guitar before leading the way off.

  Thomas gives Jacob the thumbs up, but Holden ignores him. I smile and thank him. He stops me with a hand on my arm. “Do you know ‘Walk Away’?”

  The question catches me off guard, and at first, I’m not sure what to say. “Your song Walk Away?”

  “Yes,” he says.

  “I do.”

  “Open up with me?”

  I freeze, no idea what to say. “Jacob—”

  “Come on,” he says. “They’ll love it.”

  I try to glance around him to check with Holden and Thomas, but Jacob has put himself directly between us. Before I can say another word, he’s taking my hand and pulling me back onto the stage.

  He’s right. The audience goes ballistic at the sight of the two of us. His band hits the intro. Jacob picks up the microphone and takes the lead with the song. I wait for the chorus to join in. People begin clapping, and I realize I have to close out every other thought except getting through this song. I close my eyes and let the words rise up within me.

  When we’re done, Jacob leans over and kisses me on the cheek. “Ladies and gentleman, CeCe Ashford, my new ambassador for Orphan Relief Belize! I’d like to publicly thank her for opening her heart to this amazing cause. I hope she’ll be joining us for a trip down there next week. We’ll be updating the website with photos and stories of our experiences, so y’all be sure to check it out!”

  The applause is deafening. I try to hide my surprise by smiling out at the crowd, waving and thanking the fans. Without looking at Jacob, I leave the stage.

  ♪

  Holden

  I SLIP OUT the back stage door, guitar case on my shoulder. I make a straight path for the Rover, pulse pounding at my temples.

  Anger has a grip at my neck, and I know if I don’t get out of here, I’m going to end up being arrested for assault. I asked Thomas to bring CeCe home, and he promised he would.

  I get inside the vehicle, slamming my palm on the steering wheel. That son of a bitch! He’d planned that all along. Just like he’d planned getting an invitation to the wedding.

  I drive straight home, resisting the urge to hit a local bar. Inside the house, Hank Junior and Patsy greet me, following me up the stairs where I throw on running clothes. Headed back downstairs
I promise Hank I’ll take him next time and let myself out into the night air.

  I start running at a pace I know I won’t maintain for long, but I need the burn as a release for the anger still boiling inside me. My shoes pound the sidewalk, my stride covering distance.

  I run hard until drawing in breath is too painful to continue. I slow up, dragging in air but continuing on.

  I run for several miles before rational thought begins to get a foothold. When I finally slow to a walk, it begins to occur to me what Bartley is doing.

  He’s trying to provoke me. He wants me to create a public scene in which he’s the obvious good guy.

  If I end up in jail, what better way for him to have a clear path to CeCe as well as public approval for it?

  Could he be that conniving? That determined to have what he wants?

  It’s hard to believe he could, but that’s what my gut is telling me.

  My phone buzzes. It’s a text from Thomas.

  You all right?

  Yeah.

  I can’t believe he did that. Asshole.

  CeCe with you?

  Yeah. We just got to the house. Where are you?

  Out running.

  Good for you. I don’t know how you kept your cool. I’d be in jail right now.

  I think that’s what he wants.

  Like he did that intentionally?

  Yeah.

  At least we’re done with the concert.

  I’ll be at the house in five minutes.

  I’ll wait.

  When I get there, Thomas is in the kitchen with CeCe. She’s making coffee, her back to me. Thomas looks as if he’s not sure what to say. I break the ice by walking over and kissing her on the cheek. She turns with a look of relief on her face.

  “Hey,” I say.

  “Hey,” she says, pressing her cheek against my chest and wrapping her arms around my waist. “I’m sorry.”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong,” I say.

  “I know, but—”