Melody of Truth (Love of a Rockstar Book 3) (21 page)

Marco scoffed as he picked the towel up off the floor and secured it around his waist. “I didn’t force you. You agreed of your own free will.”

“Because I thought a kid was going to die if I didn’t!”

“Minor details.”

I didn’t know what happened—one minute I was sitting down, and the next my foot was between Marco’s legs. His eyes bulged as he crumbled into a heap, clutching his precious jewels. I wished I could say I felt bad, but I didn’t.

Marco had preyed on my weak spot just like Sean had said he would, and while I wanted to punch myself for being such an idiot, I was glad the truth was now in the open.

Free to return to Sean without any shackles around my wrists, I was antsy to start our future together.

“I’ll mail you the ring,” I said to Marco.

Grabbing my backpack, I ran out the door. Halfway down the hallway, my neighbor, Colette struck her head out from her apartment. “Everything okay dear?”

“Everything is peachy. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

She waved away my apology. “Sleep is a distant memory at this point.”

“Are you taking your medicine? Marco said he came by and….”

“Don’t worry about me. You have your own life to lead.” Eyeing my clothes suspiciously, Colette asked. “Where are you off to?”

“To start my new future. Have a good night and don’t forget….”

“Yea yea. Pain in my butt,” she mumbled as she shut the door.

Laughing, I skipped down the stairs with a wide smile. As I stepped onto the street, my gaze soaked in the grunginess of the city. The pungent perfume of garbage and cigarette smoke hung in the air.

“Goodbye New York,” I whispered. “Thanks for the memories.”

STANDING IN FRONT OF MELODY’S
building, I double-checked the address Jane had texted me and went over to the call box. I pushed the buzzer for apartment 302, and it rang several times without any answer.

I should have texted Melody to let her know I was coming instead of showing up there at the crack of dawn, hoping she was around.

My romantic showmanship a huge fail, I caved and called her. When that went straight to voicemail, worry began to set in. Luckily, someone left right when I was contemplating throwing rocks at her window.

Slipping inside the entryway, I walked up to the third floor. Jane had warned me that Marco might be at the apartment, since he and Melody lived together, but I wasn’t afraid of a fight if it came to that. My knuckles were already bruised from Matthew’s face.

I walked down the dingy carpeted hallway to the very end. The numbers hung crooked on the door and I straightened them before knocking. Adrenaline threaded through my veins as a very long ten seconds passed before I tried again, harder this time.

As the ten seconds eased into almost a minute, I rocked uneasily back and forth on my heels.

“Melody?!” I yelled through the thick wooden frame. “It’s me Sean! Open up!” My fist pounded on the door. “Melody?!”

“Young man! You need to cut that out right this minute. It’s way too early in the morning to be causing a ruckus.”

I glanced over my shoulder at the old woman two doors down and her eyes narrowed on mine. “Who are you?”

“I’m a friend of Melody’s. Is she around?”

“How can I trust you’re not a murder?”

“Uh, because I’m not. My name is Sean Dallis. I’m the drummer for rock star Matthew Lee.”

The old woman tilted her roller-covered head. “My granddaughter listens to him. He is too sexual for my taste.”

I laughed. “He’s not for everyone.”

“Ain’t that truth,” she humphed. Opening the door wider, she stepped aside and said, “Come in. I’ll make you some tea while you wait for Melody to come back.”

“I should really be scoring the city, looking for her. It’s important.”

“In a city of million plus people? How are you going to manage to pull that off?”

“I’m not sure.” Because I really wasn’t’. My plan to fly here was half-baked at best and hadn’t prepared for any hiccups.

The old woman padded into her apartment. “Would you like cream or sugar in your tea?”

Faced with no other option than to stick it out, I wandered in after her. The hallway opened up to a tiny living room that had very few pieces of furniture, but the walls were lined with photographs. Upon closer inspection, I saw they depicted a ballerina throughout the different stages of her career. She exuded grace and poise in each snapshot.

“Fifteen years I have been retired, yet, I still miss it.” The old woman set the tray on her coffee table and beamed at her legacy. “It was a fun ride that I would have done forever if age and achy joints hadn’t gotten in the way.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No matter. Sit.” She beckoned to the sofa as she lowered herself into a floral printed armchair. “How do you know Melody?”

“She was hired to do a documentary on Matthew Lee and his first solo tour.”

“Ah. Have you seen any of her films? She is very talented.”

“She is,” I agreed. “One of the best filmmakers of this generation.”

Pouring the steaming liquid out of the teapot into two mugs, she dropped a sugar cube in and added a splash of milk to hers, while I took mine black.

She cupped her hands around the cup and regarded me over the rim. “You have feelings for her. Yes?”

“Is that obvious?”

“A man doesn’t cause a ruckus over a woman unless he is head over heels for her. My late husband once caused a traffic jam because he thought he had lost the ring he was going to propose to me with.”

“Did he find it?”

She chuckled. “It was in his suit pocket the whole time.”

Love - a universal emotion that brought out the craziness in all of us. I sipped the earthy brew and smiled. “Did the proposal at least go off without a hitch?”

“After he took a dive into the duck pond at Central Park by accident it went off swimmingly. Her eyes shined with memories of yesterdays past. “My Harry had as much gracefulness as an elephant, but he was my elephant. You know?”

“I do.”

She cleared her throat. “Anyways, are you here to stop Melody’s wedding?”

At the use of the present tense, my heart seized. Was the old woman withholding information from me? “She flew to New York to do that herself.”

“Oh? Shame. I liked Marco - he was a nice young man.”

“Nice? He lied to her about having a sick kid and tried to con her into a lifetime commitment for a green card. The man is an asshole who preyed on her weakness, which is why I flew to New York. To tell her that, so if you know something...”

She batted her eyes innocently but I didn’t buy the act. Most women her age knew more than they let on about what went on around them. “I might have seen her come out of her apartment last night in her wedding gown which looked rather awful on her to be frank. The color completely washed out her complexion.”

“What?!” My knee banged the table as I jumped out of my seat. “Why didn’t you just tell me that?”

“What would have been the point? You’re too late.”

“No.” I refused to believe Melody had gone through with the marriage when she proclaimed she was mine a mere eight hours ago. She wouldn’t have betrayed me like that.

Your ex-wife did
, a voice taunted, inside my head.

“I’m sorry.” The old woman looked at me with pity. “Love isn’t kind.”

“Do you have any clue where she is?”

“You can try the coffee shop next to Saint Vartan Cathedral. She goes there for her morning coffee.”

I set my mug down and rushed from the apartment without saying goodbye. Car fumes burned my lungs as I headed north, weaving in out and of the crowds that populated the streets. My arms pumped at my sides with one single mission driving me forward - I had to get to Melody. If she wasn’t there, then I would track her down until my feet were bloody.

In the distance, I spotted the pointed spheres of the cathedral. My pace quickened to a sprint. When I arrived, my gaze searched widely for the coffee shop, which turned out to be kitty corner from the church. It was Melody’s kind of place, un-pretentious and in desperate need of an update. Once the walk sign cleared, I jogged across the street with a level of anticipation that rivaled Christmas mornings as a child. 

Wrap around windows offered a clear view inside. Nearly empty, my gaze was immediately drawn to a woman near the back. Her head bent down as she scribbled on a piece of paper. I didn’t need to see her face - I would recognize Melody anywhere.

My palm pressed against the glass pane, overcome with the taste of sweet relief. “Thank God.”

I should have trusted Melody and not let old insecurities threaten to ruin us. Ready to have her back in my arms and my bed, I moved toward the door when a man slipped into the booth across from her. I stilled as Melody glanced up with a blinding smile - a smile reserved for the ones she loved. All I could see of the mystery man was his hair, which matched Marco’s - muddy brown.

I didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but my heart had other plans. It ricocheted off the walls of it’s chamber, thumping loudly as the sounds of the city dimmed to a low throb.

She laughed at whatever he said, her eyes twinkling with joy, her face alit with a newly wed glow. He picked up Melody’s palm and pressed his lips to the top of her hand. Red exploded in my line of sight and I had half a mind to march in there, fist flying. What would be the point though? Melody had chosen her destiny and it wasn’t me. Fuck, it probably never was. I had been a sapless fool.

I blindly turned on my heels and hailed a taxi. My time in New York was done and so was my relationship with Melody.

“Where to?” The driver asked. 

A simple question without an answer. I had to return eventually to the tour, but right now my wounds were too raw and everything there reminded me of the girl with the onyx colored eyes. Home - an adjective that wasn’t a place but a certain loveable dog who had the ability to cheer me up with a single bark. That’s where I wanted to be and I’d be damned if my ex-wife kept Bruno away from me for another minute.

“The airport. I’m going to Seattle.”

I BLANCHED AT THE TASTE
of stale coffee. It baffled me why I loved this place. The service was slow, the food was awful and the waitresses constantly messed up my order. I’d gotten to the point where I told them to surprise me. Some days, I got pancakes and others hash browns with a extra side of bacon. It kept things interesting.

Nibbling on a piece of fruit, I considered the shot list I had written out for the next two weeks and made a couple of notes. There was a lot of work left to do when I got back on tour with the band. My plan was to leave last night, but my former wedding planner wanted to meet.

“Hey!” Stephan smiled broadly at me as he slid into the opposite side of the booth. Mocha colored skin with chestnut brown eyes and a full head of Pantene worthy locks, he had a masters degree in breaking hearts.

“Hey.”

“How are you holding up?”

“Fine. Are there some documents you wanted me to sign?”

“Always cutting straight to the chase,” he teased.

“Sorry, but I’m in a hurry. My plane leaves in two hours.”

Stephan unbuckled his briefcase and set the pages in front of me. “Unfortunately due to the last minute of the situation, I wasn’t able to talk the venue or vendors into a full refund.”

“What am I on the line for then?”

“About four grand.”

I winced. There went two thirds of my savings. “You couldn’t haggle with them?”

“Honey, I haggled until I was blue in the face, but you canceled your wedding eight hours before the ceremony was about to begin.”

“Have you spoken to Marco?”

Stephan shuffled the documents around, avoiding eye contact. “I did.”

“And?”

“He told me that you were responsible for it.”

That ratfink bastard. He was the one that almost conned me into a sham marriage – he should have paid at least half. I reached for my cellphone, then thought better of it. Reaming Marco a new one wouldn’t solve the issue. Plus, he already blew his advance on fancy dinners and God knows what else.

I grabbed a pen from my purse. “Where should I sign?”

Stephan looked visibly pained as he pointed to the bottom of the paper. “Here” He flipped to the next page. “And here.”

With a flourish, I signed my name, officially closing the chapter on Marco and I's almost marriage. A twinge of sadness resonated in my core. We were friends for five years before we became lovers, and I had trusted him, impeccably. A mistake if there ever was one.

“Great!” Stephan proclaimed. “You should be getting a check in the mail within the next few weeks. Where should I send it?”

Giving Marco my apartment temporarily left me without a roof over my head, but I wasn’t worried. Once the tour finished, Sean and I could figure out the next step together. “Can you wire it to me?”

“Sure. No problem.”

“Thank you.” I sipped my now cold coffee. “I won’t have a permanent address for awhile so if there are any other issues, call me.”

“You got it.” He looked as if he wanted to say more, stopped himself, and then said it anyways. Stephan swore to a no-bullshit code of ethics. “My sister dated a musician for a while and she said it was a nightmare. The constant touring, the groupies…Are you sure you want to take that on?”

“I do. Sean is worth it.”

“You have known him less than a month.”

My brow arched. “You can’t judge me based off some bullshit article you read in a trashy magazine”

“Marco was really devastated.”

It became clear who Stephan stood in solidarity with. Shit, the entire general public most likely saw me as the slut who couldn’t keep her pants buttoned. It was only a matter of time before Marco cashed in and added fuel to the fire, weaving a sordid tale about heartbreak and betrayal. 

“He was devastated about losing his green card,” I said.

Stephan perked up. “I’ll marry him.”

“I don’t think he swings in that direction.”

“Honey, I have a track record of turning straight men into Cher loving fanatics. It’s a specialty of mine.” He lowered his voice to a hushed whisper. “Once, I fucked a brides newly minted husband in a coat closet during the reception.”

“That’s awful!”

“By his groans of pleasure, I don’t think he was thinking that at all.”

“TMI.”

Laughing, Stephan excused himself and went to the restroom while I quickly scanned the documents to ensure nothing was amiss.

Two minutes later he returned with a scowl. “Damn bathroom was grosser than a port-a- potty.”

“Oh yeah, they don’t clean it like ever.”

“A little heads up would have been nice.” He returned to his seat and crammed the papers into his briefcase. Picking up my palm, he pressed his lips against the top of my hand. “It’s been a pleasure. Enjoy your sex on a stick rock star.”

A chuckle escaped past my lips. “Will do. Good luck on your quest to nail down Marco.” I placed a ten on the table and followed him out into the muggy New York air, where we parted ways.

Antsy to return to Sean, I headed to the airport early with visions of our future dancing in my head.

THE TAXI PULLED UP IN
front of the tour bus that was blanketed in a shroud of darkness. Nearly midnight I figured Sean would still be awake, but no matter. He’d wake up quick when I climbed on top of him and got my fill.

The door banged open and my sister flew down the steps barefoot. Confusion lined her face. “You’re here. Why are you here? You’re supposed to be with Marco in New York.”

Now I was perplexed. “Did you smoke crack? I went there to break things off with him. Turns out...”

“He was a lying asshole who deserves to jump off a short pier?”

“Yea, exactly. How did you…”

“Know?” My sister cut in again. “We found out yesterday and Sean flew to New York to break the news to you.”

“Wait. He did what?”

“He flew to New York.”

“Why didn’t he call or text?”

“Your phone is dead.”

“Right.” My sister who despised silence opened her mouth to speak, but I shushed her. “Give me a moment. I need to catch my breath. It has been a whirlwind twenty fours hours and that’s putting it lightly.”

“Sean is MIA Melody! He saw you and Marco at the diner and he didn’t return to South Carolina for sound check. Everyone is looking for him.”

The exhaustion had to be hindering my ability to hear because I thought my sister said Sean was gone. “All right. Enough with the jokes. I’ll see you in the morning.”

As I went to walk past her, she grabbed the crook of my elbow. “None of this is a freaking joke. They had to cancel the concert.”

“Right. Sure they did.”

“Melody!” My sister yelled, her frustration boiling over. “I’m not joking. Sean is no-where to be found.”

The sincerity in her eyes was what got through my thick skull, finally. I dropped my suitcase and ran toward the bus. Pitch black inside, I felt my way toward the bunk area and located a light switch. I flipped it on, garnering groans of displeasure with mumbled ‘what the fucks’.

“Sean?” The curtain was tugged backwards. An empty bed neatly made caused my stomach to drop to my toes. He really was gone.

“Melody?” Ash voice steeped in grogginess, pulled my gaze down to where he was lying. “You’re back. I thought you married Marco.”

“Why?”

“Because I got a frantic phone call from Sean saying he was too late. That he saw you and Marco together at the diner.”

The story matched my sisters and I gaped at Ash. “He actually flew to New York?”

“He wanted to be there for you when you found out about Marco’s betrayal.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“Neither can I. The dude totally fucked us sideways tonight, resulting in 10,000 disappointed fans.”

“I’m really sorry. Is Matthew pissed?”

“He was, but Camilla talked him off the cliff.”

All hail Matthew’s girlfriend or else I would have been out of a job and a paycheck. Noah jumped off the top bunk and landed gracefully on his feet. He seemed downright bushy tailed compared to Ash, whose eyelids were fighting to stay open.

Without a word, Noah grabbed my right hand and peered at my ringer finger.

“I’m not married,” I informed him. “I’m not sure what Sean thinks he saw, but he was mistaken.”

Noah looked at me with his piercing gray eyes. “He saw you with a man.”

“A man who wasn’t Marco.”

“Who was he then?” Ash inquired.

“My wedding planner, Stephan is gayer than a rainbow flag.”

“Ohhh,” Ash and Noah said at the same.

“Shit,” Noah murmured.

My sister padded in behind me, holding a jar of peanut butter. She dipped a spoon into the sticky mess and ate it straight. I should have been stress eating, not her.

“Did Sean give you any indication where he went?” I asked.

Ash shook his head. “Nope. The call cut out about fifteen seconds in.”

Jane whimpered as I snatched the jar out of her hands and shoveled a spoonful of salty goodness into my mouth. Why would Sean assume the worst? Did he think I was as bad as his ex-wife? Our actions were similar in the sense we both cheated. But - No there was no but. Cheating is cheating and Sean figured if I did it to Marco, what would stop me from turning around and doing it to him?

Sean’s apparent lack of trust in the connection we shared hurt like a gunshot wound to the chest. The peanut butter turned to cement on my tongue, and I padded into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. Tears dripped into the sink as I stood on my tiptoes to reach the upper cabinets. Our relationship had gone kaput right when it was beginning. A beginning that stretched out as clear as the prairie fields of the Midwest.

I had zero anxiety about our future, because I knew without a doubt Sean was the whip cream to my hot chocolate. He destroyed the mile-high fence I had built around myself after my mothers’ death, so god damn afraid to love again. But he showed me how beautiful and pure the feeling was when I let down my defenses.

I felt my sister’s hovering presence. “Are you okay?”

“I’m…” My knee jerk reaction was to save face, but I was tired of pretending as if I was indestructible.  “No. I’m not okay.” The tears started to fall in earnest.

Jane pressed her chest into my back and wound her arms around my waist. “He’ll come back.”

“To the band –certainly. But not to me...”