Escaping Perfect (19 page)

“I'm not here, okay?” I whispered hoarsely. “I know
you hate me, Shelby, but please. Please! I'm not here.”

Shelby was clearly baffled, but she reached over and pulled the door most of the way closed. I thanked her silently, though I wasn't convinced she was doing it for me. Maybe she was just trying to keep the crazy person away from her new client.

I heard her greet the man in the suit, but their voices were muffled by the coats and the door and the fact that they seemed to be speaking in unusually quiet tones. I could only make out a few words here and there.

“. . . help you with . . . ?” Shelby said.

“. . . looking for some . . . ,” he replied.

Some
thing?
Some
one?
My heart pounded in my ears.

“. . . right. No, no. Not necessary to . . .”

“. . . that's it for now . . . be back. . . .”

Back? He was coming back? Why? When?

I heard the doorbells chime again and counted to twenty Mississippis. The door creaked open. I said a quick prayer. Then, with a sudden screech of metal against metal, the coats split and the air-conditioning rushed in on me.

“What. The hell. Are you
doing
?” Shelby demanded.

Crouched on the floor like a stowaway, I opened one eye.

“Is he gone?” I asked, cautiously standing.

“Who? Mr. Benson? Yes, he's gone!” Shelby said in a
huff. “Why are you hiding from Gary Benson?”

My jaw dropped slightly. “Wait. That was Gary Benson? The record producer?”

“Um, yeah!” Shelby raised one palm. “If you didn't even know who he was, then why the freak-out?”

“I don't . . . I thought . . . I thought he was someone else,” I improvised, bringing a hand to my forehead. I stepped out of my hiding place, tripping on the top of an old hat box on my way. “Does he live around here?”

“Yeah. He lives up on Treemont,” Shelby replied, gesturing vaguely. “He's Sweetbriar's most famous resident.”

“So what's with the chauffeur? He doesn't drive?” I asked, trying to deflect attention from my odd behavior, stalling for time.

Shelby gave me this look, like I was asking the most irrelevant question ever. “No. He doesn't. So when he comes into town, he has a driver.”

That explained it. That explained why I kept seeing that Town Car everywhere. It wasn't the government. They weren't tracking me somehow. It was Gary Benson. Jasper's new boss. I'd never felt so relieved in my life.

“Okay,
what
is your deal?” Shelby asked. “You are acting totally mentally unstable today.”

“Back off, Shelby.”

Her whole face fell. I couldn't believe I'd just said that. Apparently, I really was unstable. But between missing Jasper and not speaking to Fiona and knowing my mother was out there looking for me and the near miss with Gary Benson, I felt like I'd been pushed over the edge. Tears stung my eyes, and I realized I was shaking.

“Seriously. Stay out of my business,” I said, somehow holding it together long enough to get my point across.

“I think you should go on your break,” Shelby replied, her words clipped.

I felt this overwhelming need to apologize, but why? She was the one who was being nosy and rude. So instead I lifted my chin.

“Fine. I'll be back in fifteen minutes.”

I slid past her into the store, then out the back door, behind the dressing rooms. The second the warm summer air hit my face, I started to cry. Big, loud, racking sobs of fear and relief and anger and sorrow. It was like every unshed tear from the last two weeks was coming out of me at the same time. It felt awful and cathartic all at once. Then my phone beeped with a text.

HAVING A GOOD DAY? IF NOT I'LL BE HOME IN EXACTLY SEVEN AND A HALF HOURS.

I laughed once through my tears and covered my face
with my hands. I really was losing it. And I was going to have to go back in there in fifteen minutes and work the rest of the day with Shelby. I was going to have to apologize and give her some kind of explanation for my behavior. I just hoped she stopped asking questions for which I didn't have any answers.

Chapter Nineteen

That night I found myself
sitting at a center table at Sharky's, a midsize bar on the outskirts of Sweetbriar, with Duncan, Britta and Shelby. I'd come with Jasper, but Jasper was the talent (suddenly every venue in town wanted a piece of him), and by the time I'd come out from backstage to find a seat, nearly every seat had been taken. So even though Duncan was barely speaking to me and Shelby was my archnemesis, I'd decided to squeeze in with them. At least Britta didn't seem to be freezing me out on Fiona's behalf.

Now, about halfway through Jasper's set, I was seriously regretting my seating choice. Jasper was doing great, but the four of us had barely spoken in the twenty minutes we'd been sitting there. Aside from Shelby occasionally leaning over to
whisper-shout something in Britta's ear, we were like four strangers.

“No laptop tonight?” I asked Britta during a break between songs.

“I've covered Jasper enough,” she replied. “I'm going to wait until his first big show with the label. Which he'd better give me backstage access to.”

“I'll make sure he does,” I replied.

For some reason both Shelby and Duncan hit me with snide looks after that remark. What? What did I say?

Up onstage Jasper slung the strap of his black acoustic guitar over his shoulder and leaned toward the microphone. “This one goes out to that special girl in my life.”

He winked at me and launched into an up-tempo song. Muttering something under her breath, Shelby left the table to get a drink. As she moved away, the crowd parted, and I caught a glimpse of Fiona down in front at a small table. She was leaning in to some guy, her hands folded on one of his shoulders as she whispered and giggled into his ear.

“Who's that guy Fiona's with?” I asked.

“Some dude she met at the diner today,” Duncan replied flatly, the first words he'd spoken to me all night. “I think he goes to the college.”

I rose up in my seat a bit to get a better angle. Fiona threw
her head back in laughter and looked up at Jasper. He didn't notice, but it was obvious she was trying to get his attention. Maybe even trying to make him jealous. My butt hit the chair again, hard. I wasn't sure what to make of this. Should I be annoyed? Angry? Because the only thing I felt was sad. Fiona deserved better than to be crushing on a guy who had no interest in her. And if I hadn't been going out with that very same guy, I would have told her that. But as things stood, our situation was way too complicated. If I said anything to her about Jasper, she would take it the wrong way. In fact, when I'd stopped by Peach Street earlier today, the message on the wall had read:

WHEN IN DOUBT, SHUT UP.

So what was I supposed to do?

As Jasper launched into a guitar solo, Fiona and her guy got up from the table. He held her hand behind him as he navigated the crowd, headed for the back of the bar where the bathrooms were situated. Fiona glanced at Jasper one more time, but he still wasn't watching her. I saw her face fall, and almost wished he'd look over—give her the attention she wanted.

I kept an eye on the back of the room. Fiona and her man were nowhere to be seen. After five minutes I felt a tad concerned. After ten I was definitely worried. Finally I pushed my chair back and stood up.

“I'll be right back,” I told Britta and Duncan.

Neither one of them replied or asked where I was going, which was fine by me. Hopefully, I was just going to find Fiona making out in the hallway with the new love of her life. But when I came around the corner, all I found was a long line of women waiting for the bathroom. Fiona and her man were nowhere. I edged along the wall, lined with photos of acts from days past, and came to the exit door. Before I even had a chance to look out the tiny window, I heard a shriek.

I shoved the door open. Pressed up against the wall was Fiona, and her date had his hand halfway up her skirt, pushing it up even higher. Fiona was trying to shove him away, but he kept her pinned to the wall with his hips and one hand against her shoulder. I glanced around, ripped the metal top off an old-school garbage can, and shouted as loud as I could.

“Hey!”

The guy instinctively turned around, and I whipped the garbage can lid across his face with a clang. The guy's head snapped to the side, and he hit the ground, out cold. Fiona stepped away from the wall, shaking.

“Omigod! Omigod, Lia, thank you!” she cried, throwing herself into my arms.

“Are you okay?” I asked, holding her at arm's length so I could check her over.

“I think so. I don't know.”

Suddenly her face crumpled and she dissolved into tears.

“I thought he really liked me.”

I enveloped her into a hug and let her cry for half a second. “We should probably get out of here before he wakes up.”

The guy let out a groan, and his knee started to bend.

“Go!” Fiona cried.

We raced around the corner and didn't look back until we'd made it to the sidewalk in front of the bar. Then we looked at each other and dissolved into nervous, adrenaline-fueled laughter.

“Truce? For real this time?” I asked.

Fiona nodded. “Let's go get some coffee.”

*  *  *

“I feel so stupid.”

Fiona sat at a booth at the diner, turning a white coffee mug around and around on the surface of the table. It was after midnight, and the skeleton shift was on, which was a good thing. If her father had seen how shaken and upset she was, he might have gone after the guy in the alley himself. Fiona didn't need any more drama. Not tonight.

“That's the last thing you should feel,” I told her. I touched her wrist with my hand, and the cup stopped moving. “This was not your fault.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Fiona asked. I could see her eyes fill with tears even though she was looking down at the table. It was like she was afraid to make eye contact. “I was so insane the other night at Jasper's show, and ever since . . .”

“You weren't insane. You just like the guy.” I gave her wrist a squeeze before sitting back again. My own mug full of coffee sat untouched in front of me. I was too emotionally wound to drink it. “It's not like I can blame you.”

“I know, but it's not your fault he likes you and not me,” Fiona said, slumping back in her seat.

“Just so you know, Jasper does really care about you,” I told her. “When he found out we weren't talking, he was all over me to find a way to make it up to you.”

“Well, that's nice, I guess.” Fiona started to spin her mug again. “Who wants one brother when you can have two?”

She managed another smile, but I could hear the regret in her voice. She really did like Jasper, and clearly it was going to take her a while to get over him. I just hoped that she would, and that we could find a way to be friends in the meantime.

A gaggle of girls walked by the diner window, dressed in tight jeans, leather jackets, and sky-high boots. One of them clutched a picture of Jasper, and I saw his signature scrawled across it.

“Honestly, you probably dodged a bullet with Jasper anyway,” I said. “Everyone and their mother was in love with him already, but now that he's getting famous it's like everyone, their mother, their sister, and the house full of models next door.”

Fiona laughed. It was a real laugh, which was very rare coming from her. That was when I knew for sure that she was going to be all right. That we were going to be all right.

“Wow. Fun!” She sat up a bit straighter in her seat and took a sip of her coffee. “Good luck with that one, Lia.”

I laughed as well. “Thanks. I have a feeling I'm gonna need it.”

*  *  *

When I glanced through the peephole early Tuesday morning and saw Shelby standing there in a blue-and-white seersucker dress, I recoiled. If there was one person I didn't want to deal with first thing in the morning, it was her.

“Britta went to work already,” I said through the door.

“I'm not here to see Britta,” she replied, looking directly at the peephole. The lens flattened her nose into a misshapen pancake. “I'm here to see you,
Cecilia
.”

My whole body turned cold. I took a step back from the door. “What?”

“Let me in. We need to talk.”

I glanced around the apartment. There was a fire escape out the front window, but I was wearing nothing but an oversize T-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts I'd stolen from Jasper. And where was I supposed to go? To Jasper's apartment? Like she couldn't find me there. Like she couldn't sic the police on me wherever I went in Sweetbriar.

Wait. Had she already told the police?

I lunged for the door and opened the lock. “Who did you tell?”

Shelby smirked, stepped into the room, and closed the door, her sleek ponytail swinging behind her.

“I haven't told anybody.” She glanced at the stack of magazines on the kitchen island and snorted. Half of them were covered with pictures of me prior to second grade, or shots of my parents. “Oh. My. God. I can't believe Britta hasn't figured it out yet. She's
living
with you! But then again, I guess she's so busy trying to figure a way out of this town, she can't imagine anyone would ever actually run
to
here.”

I locked the door but stayed close to it, just in case I had to bolt. What was I supposed to say here? Should I beg? Should I threaten her somehow? But with what?

“How did you figure it out?” I asked, both genuinely curious and stalling for time.

“One, you showed up here the day after Cecilia disap
peared. Two, you had blood on your shirt when you dumped the tea all over me. Three, you ‘lost' your phone, which is the only thing of Cecilia's they've recovered, and four, you go insane at the sight of a Town Car. Oh, and also? I heard on the news that Cecilia Montgomery was trained in three different martial arts, so when I saw you take out that guy last night? That was pretty much the clincher.”

“You saw that?” I asked.

She nodded blithely as she flipped through the magazines. “You looked freaked when you breezed past the bar, so I followed you. I was watching through the back window.”

“Well. Thanks for all the help.”

“Clearly you don't need any,
Cecilia
.”

She lifted up a copy of
Star
with my second-grade class photo on the cover and held it next to my face. Our eyes met. She looked way too satisfied with herself.

“What I don't get is why?” she said. “You had the perfect life. Famous parents, millions of dollars, everything you could ever possibly want. Why the hell would you run away?”

“Don't talk about my life,” I said through my teeth. “You have no
clue
about my life.”

Trembling, I stormed over to my room, where I started shoving the very few things I owned into my backpack.

“What're you doing?” Shelby asked, following me.

“Leaving. Isn't that what you want? You win. You want me gone so you can have Jasper all to yourself? He's yours.”

Shelby leaned back against the doorjamb, eyes to the ceiling. “Cecilia,” she said, drawing out my name in exasperation. Her voice had taken on this familiar tone, like we'd known one another our entire lives. It made me distinctly uncomfortable. “I'm not going to tell anyone.”

I slapped my laptop closed and turned around slowly. “Somehow I hear an ‘if' coming.”

“That's because you're so well educated.” She crossed the room very slowly. “I'm not going to tell anyone
if
you break up with Jasper. Today.”

“Ha!” I picked up the laptop and shoved it into my backpack. “Why not just let me leave, then? You really need to torture me first?”

“Wow. You have a very low opinion of me,” Shelby said. “I'm
letting
you stay because I know you need a place to hide out. Clearly there was something you liked about Sweetbriar, and I can't blame you, so why throw you out in the cold? You have a job, a place to live . . . friends, such as they are. I'm not totally callous.”

“No. Not totally. All you're asking me to do is give up the guy I'm falling in love with.” I blurted the words before I realized I was going to say them. Shelby's eyes widened slightly.

“Excuse me!
He's
in love with
me
. He always has been and he always will be.” She sniffed. “He just needs to be reminded of that fact.”

Her words still hung in the air when someone started pounding on the door.

“Now what?” I groused.

“Lia? It's me!” Jasper called out.

Shelby and I locked eyes. “Break up with him,” Shelby said. “I mean it, Cecilia. Do it now or this whole adventure of yours is over. I'll have CNN, NBC, and MTV here before noon.”

“Lia! Come on, open up! I have news!”

Feeling sick to my stomach, I rushed to unlock the door. Jasper barreled in, a bundle of excited energy. He wore a wrinkled gray T-shirt that showed off every one of his muscles, and his hair was mussed as if he'd just woken up.

“You are never gonna believe what my agent just told me!”

Shelby stepped out of the bedroom and Jasper stilled. He actually looked a little scared. “What're you doing here?”

“Just visiting. What did your agent tell you?” Shelby asked.

The smile returned full force. “Guess who's opening up for Luke Ralston at the arena
tomorrow night
!”

“No way!” I shouted.

“Jasper, that's amazing!” Shelby put in.

When Jasper grabbed me up in a hug and spun me around, I couldn't help feeling a rush of triumph. Take that, Shelby. The feeling died when he put me down again and I felt the sting of every last dagger she was staring at me. She wanted me to break up with him. She wanted me to break up with him now so she could take in every last, gory detail.