Restless Heart (27 page)

Destiny nodded.

“You feel an outpouring of love when you step onto that stage, don’t you?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

“Never lose sight of what your voice, your songs bring to others. No matter how hard it is to keep that in mind. The music business today moves at turbo speed. The Internet and the media can propel you so much faster now than years ago. Your picture is splashed everywhere . . .” She shook her head. “You have to be careful, or it can spiral out of control.”

“So how do you keep balance in your life?”

Tammy laughed softly and shook her head. “That’s an easy question. You don’t.”

Destiny raised her eyebrows.

“You’ll see. Pretty soon, touring will become your lifestyle. You’ll wake up in hotel rooms and not remember what city you’re in or where you’re heading next. You’ll eat dinner at midnight and get up at the crack of dawn. You’ll feel as if you’re short-changing your friends and family. It’s going to take a special man to deal with your success, your absence. Rumors. And you will be faced with temptation in ways you never dreamed of.”

Destiny shook her head. “I would never—”

“Don’t be so sure. Night after night, alone, far from home . . . you’d be surprised the possibilities that enter a woman’s mind.”

Destiny shook her head firmly. That would never happen to her. Not as long as she knew Seth was waiting for her back at home.

Home?

His home. His house—the house he had bought without first discussing it with her.

Not that he needed her permission, or even her blessing, but still . . .

When she’d first found out about it, all she could think was that he was moving on without her. But Grace convinced her she was wrong to assume anything.

“I mean, geez, look at that picture of you and Brody Ballard, Destiny. You know Seth must have seen it, and he didn’t go and accuse you of moving on. Don’t do that to him. It isn’t fair.”

No, it wasn’t.

She just hated that she could feel so secure, suddenly, about her career, just as she found herself so insecure about her relationship with the man she loved. Talk about unfair . . .

“How does Seth feel about your career?” Tammy asked.

“He’s is a strong believer in fate and that things will turn out the way they should be in the end.”

“Is that what you believe?”

“I think you have to
make
things happen.”

“It’s been my experience that God helps those who help themselves. So in other words, you need a bit of both.”

“That makes sense.”

“So Seth is supportive?”

“Very.”

“And so far, the career hasn’t gotten in the way of your relationship?”

“That depends on what you mean by ‘in the way,’” Destiny said with a rueful smile.

“I don’t know about that man of yours, but you seem like you’ve got your head screwed on straight. It’s a tough life for someone who wants to have a marriage, too. But I know plenty of people who’ve made it work. I’m just not lucky enough to be one of them, and it’s probably my own damned fault.”

Destiny didn’t know what to say to that. But Tammy almost seemed to be talking more to herself anyway.

“The first time, I married for money—hey, don’t look so surprised.” She shifted her gaze back to Destiny in the mirror. “I was a nobody back then, and he was up and coming. Then the tables turned, and he couldn’t deal with my success. The second time, I married for companionship, because I hated feeling like I was alone even though I was always surrounded by people, know what I mean?”

“I’m starting to,” Destiny said, as the makeup artist behind her own chair began brushing foundation over her skin.

“In the end, my husband turned out to be even more a stranger than the strangers who acted like they were my best friends—and this business is full of those, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Oh, I have.” Her suite and dressing room were full of gifts from people she didn’t know: roses and chocolates and fruit baskets, even a hand-knit sweater from an elderly die-hard fan who had attended every performance.

It was touching—and disconcerting—to be the object of affection of so many strangers.

Tammy went on with her story. “So the third time, I figured I’d do things the right way and marry for love. I thought that one would have to last forever. Ha. In the end, it didn’t turn out any differently than the others—but it sure as hell hurt a lot worse.”

“I’m so sorry,” Destiny said softly.

“Yeah. Me too.” Tammy shrugged. “Why am I telling you all this?”

“I don’t know . . . but I’m glad you did. I mean, in this business, it’s not like you get to have many peers—not that I think you’re my peer!” she added quickly, horrified at the implication that she considered herself anywhere near Tammy Turner’s pedestal.

Tammy laughed. “I know exactly what you’re sayin’. You start to leave your old friends behind, because they can’t possibly understand what it’s like to be in your shoes. And the few who do get it are usually hopin’ you’ll fall flat on your face, so don’t let ’em kid you.”

Destiny thought of Mandy, and nodded knowingly.

“You’re all set, Miss Turner.” The woman who’d been working on Tammy’s hair removed her drape with a sweep of her manicured fingers.

Tammy stood up and turned back to Destiny. “I want you to remember that it’s a cutthroat business, darlin’. The higher your star shoots, the more likely that you can count your friends on one hand. But if you ever need advice from someone who’s probably been there, done that, then you know where to come.”

Touched, Destiny smiled—then closed her eyes and coughed as her own stylist aimed a can of hairspray at her and pulled the trigger.

When Destiny opened her eyes, Tammy had vanished, but her words lingered, more like a warning than an inspiration.

 

 

 

C
lutching a bouquet of slightly wilted wildflowers that had traveled with him from Wilmot, Seth hesitated before knocking on Destiny’s dressing room door. He could hear her in there, warming up her voice with scales, and he knew her mind must be on tonight’s performance—of course it would be. It was sold out, and the parking lot behind the concert hall was already jam-packed, an hour before the show.

Seth had been forced to park in a municipal lot down the street, feeling like he was well out of his element even before he approached the theater and saw the marquee.

There was Destiny’s name—right below Tammy Turner’s, and in type that wasn’t a whole lot smaller.

Seeing it up there in lights had left him speechless, driving home the reality of who and what she had become.

Feeling like an outsider in a world in which he did not belong, he’d gone around to the back entrance, as Destiny had instructed him, and showed the security guard the VIP backstage pass Grace had FedExed to him.

The guard was a strapping, good-looking guy, and Seth found himself unreasonably jealous that this person was so at home here, and he, Seth, needed a special pass just to get to his girlfriend.

“Go on in,” the guard said amiably, after checking Seth’s photo ID to make sure it matched.

“Thanks.” Seth wished the guy would ask how he had come to have special access—just in case he had any ideas about Destiny and didn’t realize she had a boyfriend.

But the guard didn’t ask, and Seth told himself he was being ridiculously insecure all of a sudden.

Now, as he stood there trying to work up the nerve to knock, he wondered if things would even be the same when he saw her.

“Seth!”

He spun around and saw Grace hurrying toward him. “I’m so glad you’re here! Did you find the hotel okay?”

“Found it, checked in, and got Mike all settled.”

“Did they give you the room adjoining Destiny’s suite, like I told them to?”

He nodded, feeling slightly uncomfortable. They both knew he wouldn’t be sleeping in his own room, but Grace had told him it would be a good idea for him and Mike to have a separate space.

“Too many people are in and out of Destiny’s suite every day, Seth,” she’d said. “It might get on your nerves.”

He was pretty sure it wouldn’t, but the implication was clear: He and Mike might be in the way.

Oh, well. He didn’t care about the days, anyway. It was the nights that mattered.

His heartbeat quickened just thinking of later, having Destiny all to himself.

Grace eyed the bouquet in his hand. “Those are so pretty, Seth. Wildflowers in winter? Where did you find them?”

“Bobbi Callahan ordered them special.” Bobbi ran Wilmot’s only florist shop.

“Destiny’s going to love them. I’ll make sure they don’t get lost in the shuffle after you give them to her,” Grace promised. “Come on, let’s let her know you’re here.”

Lost in the shuffle? It was such a strange thing to say.

But he understood the moment Grace opened the door with a “Destiny, guess who’s here!”

Every surface of her dressing room was covered with flowers—dozens upon dozens of roses, in vases and exotic arrangements. Beside them, his limp little bouquet seemed almost . . . pathetic.

Destiny broke off her scales and rushed toward him. “Seth!”

A wave of emotion crashed over him and he held her close, burying his face in her hair as Grace discreetly slipped out of the room.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he murmured, inhaling her sweet herbal scent.

“Bet I’ve missed you more. Where’s Mike?”

“Back at the hotel. Guess they don’t make canine VIP passes.”

“I can’t believe you’re really here. I kept thinking something was going to go wrong—like your car would break down or there would be a blizzard in the mountains—and you wouldn’t be able to make it.”

“Nothing could have kept me away, Destiny. I’d have walked here if I had to.” He kissed her head, then chuckled.

“What’s so funny?”

“I taste sparkles on my tongue.”

“Sorry . . .” Her laughter rumbled against his shoulder and she splayed her hand across his chest. “Mmmm . . . you smell so good, all woodsy and spicy.”

“As opposed to peach-scented?” he teased, remembering the night he’d taken a shower at her apartment back in Nashville.

“That seems like a lifetime ago, doesn’t it?” she asked. “So much has happened to us since then.”

That she’d said “us” instead of “me” was encouraging enough for him to hold out the flowers he’d brought. “These are for you.”

“Oh, Seth—”

“Destiny, we need you to—oh, sorry.”

Seth looked up to see a casually rugged stranger standing in the doorway. Obviously a stage tech, he wore jeans and boots, a flannel shirt, and a mouthpiece. Like the security guard, this guy inspired in Seth yet another flare-up of jealousy.

“Hey, Jack,” Destiny said, glancing up from the wildflower bouquet, “this is Seth. Seth, Jack.”

They shook hands politely, and Seth wondered why Destiny hadn’t introduced him as her boyfriend. Had it been a deliberate oversight?

Jack told her she was needed backstage right away.

She gave Seth a helpless, apologetic look.

“It’s okay,” he said quickly—and insincerely.

“Thank you for understanding. It’s just always kind of crazy before a show.”

“I get it. I’ll see you afterward.” He gave her a quick kiss, conscious of Jack hovering, waiting to escort her away.

Couldn’t the guy see that they might want a moment of privacy here? Didn’t he realize that it had been a month since they’d seen each other?

If he realized, he didn’t care—in fact, for all Seth knew, Jack was trying to move in on Destiny and had manufactured a reason to whisk her away.

Part of him felt that it was a ridiculous notion; another part wasn’t so sure.

“Oh . . .” Halfway out the door, Destiny stopped short and looked down at the wildflowers in her hand. “I . . . I need to find a vase.”

“You don’t have time for that, come on,” Jack told her.

“I’ll take care of them,” Seth told her. “Here, give them to me.”

“No, you don’t have to—”

“I’ve got it.”

“No, really—”

Suddenly, Jack reached out and plucked the bouquet from Destiny’s hand and thrust it at Seth. “Dude, here, you deal with these.”

Refusing to take the flowers, Seth balled his hands into fists instead. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Me? I work here.” Jack recklessly tossed the flowers aside, snapping several fragile stems as they landed. “Who the hell are
you
?”

But he couldn’t say it. It was so stupid, so cheesy, so . . . high school. He wound up his fist, as infuriated with himself for losing control as he was with this jerk for making him.

“Come on, guys, cut it out!” Destiny grabbed Seth’s arm and hung on tight.

“Hey, I’m just doing my job,” Jack said, so mildly that if Destiny hadn’t been holding him back, Seth would have punched him for sure, “and that’s to get you to where you’re supposed to be, so let’s go.”

She shook her head, looking in dismay at the ruined bouquet. “I need to—”

“
Go
.” The word came out more sharply than Seth had intended. He saw her eyebrows furrow. She hesitated for a split second, biting her bottom lip, before turning and following Jack away without a backward glance.

Seth looked down at the scattered, broken wildflowers, then at the dozens of roses surrounding him. With a curse, he gathered his pitiful offering and dumped the whole thing into the nearest trash can.

 

 

 

“
M
erry Christmas,” Destiny told Grace, who trailed the band members out the door of her suite following an impromptu after-show party.