Starstruck (26 page)

He sucked in a deep breath and tried to laugh off his
concern, but she was truly touched he cared so much for her already. They were
forming a very strong bond. It tightened around her, warming her from the
inside out. They were becoming family…in a spiritual sense.

“You look exhausted. You should get some sleep.” She patted
his shoulder before going back to her cup of tea.

Jesse returned, hanging up from his phone call. His face
wore a deep frown. “Ah, I’ve gotta run down the road. We’re outta eggs. Won’t
be long, beautiful.”

He grabbed his keys and raced out the back door to the
garage.

She opened the fridge. “He has eggs.”

Confused, she looked to Rick. He was frowning too. She
sighed and drank her tea before going upstairs to take a shower. She was still
death warmed up.

She arrived back downstairs to hushed voices drifting down
the hall. Jesse had returned and he and Rick remained in the kitchen. She
stopped in the doorway and leaned against it. They were both slumped over a
large newspaper and when she cleared her throat, they glanced up in unison.

Rick shot quickly to his feet. “Ah, there’s somewhere I need
to be.” He kissed her forehead as he passed to the front door.

She laughed nervously. “What’s going on?” She ambled to
Jesse’s side.

Over his shoulder, she found her answer. She pushed him out
of the way for a better look.

No!

Her stomach twisted and ached as if it were being pumped all
over again. The front page showcased a huge color picture of Jesse with Becky
Sampson, clutching each other, Jesse’s head flung back, Becky undoing his
pants.

Oh God. Not again. Please…not him too.

Sam didn’t want to turn the page and read the full article,
but she’d evolved into a masochist it seemed. Discovering a fiancé and best
friend fucking like bunnies, an affair that had gone on behind her back—and her
psychic gift—for over a year evidently did that to a person. Go figure.

Her hand shook and she fumbled with the corner of the page
several times before successfully turning it.

She gasped, her hand clamping over her mouth. The picture
was fuzzy, as if it had been shot on a phone camera, but it was undoubtedly
her. A close-up. Lying on a couch, her head resting on someone’s knee, eyes
closed and face slack.

She leaned over the counter and slammed her hands on either
side of the page, squinting lasers at the print. She read the entire story
before she made another sound. Some of the black text burned into her retinas
more than others.

A known heroin addict—name withheld—was hospitalized
after an overdose…

Jesse Maurello, infamous front man of Jerico, was not
available for comment, but a friend close to the source stated the woman was a
prostitute…

And the final heart clench…

“He simply couldn’t stay away. The wedding is back on and
we couldn’t be happier,” said a beaming Becky Sampson.

Why did she allow herself to trust him? She wasn’t a risk
taker and yet she’d let him into her heart so easily, so quickly. Why? Was she
a glutton for punishment? Hadn’t she learned her lesson two months ago?

Her trembling hand froze around the doorknob. His muffled
moans met her ears through the door and she wanted to believe he was just
pleasuring himself…alone. She didn’t want her vision to be true. She’d
dedicated almost half of her life to Tom and their relationship. He’d never had
a wandering eye in all those years and her gift had never doubted his
fidelity…until tonight…of all nights.

“Fuck, baby… Ride me, Char.”

“I know just how you like it, Tommy. Oh God! Harder!”

Her heart exploded and she wrenched open the door. They
kept going. Loud breathing permeated the room. Charli’s back was to Sam as she
bounced atop the man Sam was due to marry in less than twelve hours.

Her hand fell away from the doorknob. A squeak split the
air—a tiny sound amongst the symphony of sex.

Tom turned his head on the pillow and his eyes locked
onto hers like missiles. His scrunched “sex face” morphed to a wide-eyed
fearful stare.

Charli finally glanced over her shoulder, but Sam refused
to look her in the eye, not while she was naked, straddling the only man Sam
had ever loved.

She kept her gaze on the bastard. “You need to pack your
things.” Her whisper was cold.

She turned, closed the door and stepped robotically
through the house toward the front door.

“Sam! It’s not what you think!” he yelled before she
slammed the door on the longest, hardest chapter of her life.

She shuddered through a deep breath. She’d never hated her
gift more. Rarely did she have visions concerning people she had a deep
connection with—family, close friends—Caitlin being the exception. For every
yin there must be a yang.

With Sam’s gift, she could find a stranger’s lost child deep
in the forest, but when she’d gotten the call informing her of her grandmother’s
death, she’d been just as shocked as everyone else.

Psychics couldn’t be privy to the future of their own
lives—such ability would be dangerous in the wrong hands. It was the curse of
the gifted. She couldn’t read minds or pluck next week’s lottery numbers out of
the universe. Whenever and whatever knowledge the divine light chose to bestow
upon her didn’t come at will. She got what she got—when she got it—pure and
simple.

She had no explanations why she was unable to get a read on
Jesse from the moment they’d met. Her rock star was a closed book and the brick
wall she hit every time she tried to get a peek inside his energy was beyond
infuriating. Other than great sex, she had no ties to Jesse. So how was he
blocking her ability? Had he perfected the art of man-whoring so well even
she
was blinded?

Hurt and hate smothered her entire being. The heat from her
anger was stifling, suffocating. “So this is what you were doing while I was
unconscious in the bathroom?”

“Sam, please. You don’t understand.” His palm brushed her
back and she jumped outside his reach as if she’d been shot.

He moved slower with his second approach, his hands out in
front of him like he faced a scared animal. “Sam, I swear. It’s not what you
think.”

Her world stopped spinning. Angry flames of red flickered at
the edges of her sight and her first instinct was to run. She glared a hole
through his head, spun away and stomped up the stairs. She couldn’t stand to
stay in his vicinity a moment longer.

Jesse didn’t follow. He stood in the middle of the foyer
when she descended the staircase with her luggage. “Wh-what are you doing?” he
stammered.

“Going home. Where I belong.” She pushed past his shoulder,
refusing to meet his eyes.

He grabbed her forearm. “Sam, you can’t just leave! Please.
At least let me explain.” He yanked her suitcases from her and dropped them to
the floor.

She tapped her foot anxiously, wrapping her arms around her
middle to keep from slapping him. “You’ve got fifteen minutes. I’ve already
called a taxi.”

He led her to the couch in the living room and sat beside
her. She slid as far away from him as possible.

“Sam…do you remember when I said you shouldn’t always
believe everything written about me in the press? Well, this is one of those
times. Please believe me,” he pleaded.

“Believe you?” She was dumbfounded. “I may be able to
forgive the print, Jesse, but the photos?”

She stood and paced. Too much energy fizzed inside her and
she couldn’t sit still any longer. “Those photos don’t look innocent to me.”
She raked her fingers through her hair, wanting to pull the long strands out
from the roots.

“I know it looks bad, but that’s not how things went down. I
promise you.”

“Oh I can see
what
went down. Her name is Becky!” she
shouted. “I thought you were different, Jesse. How cliché and soppy as shit is
that
?
My
God
. I let myself fall for you and look where it got me—again! But
this time I was fortunate enough to get doped to the hilt and almost arrested.
Not to mention publicly humiliated and almost killed! I should’ve known better
than to trust a rock star, for God’s sake. What the hell
was
I
thinking?” she said, venom dripping from the tip of her tongue.

He jumped to his feet, his arms stiff by his sides. “Sam,
please. You’re overreacting. I promise you, it’s not what you think.”

Any possible chance he might have had for forgiveness
disintegrated on impact with those words.

She’d known from the beginning they lived on opposite sides
of the tracks, their lives too different for any kind of future between them.
But being drugged? Fighting for her life in order to spend time with someone
who didn’t bat an eye at having a quickie with his ex in the nightclub? Oh no.
No, no. She’d risked her heart before. Hell, he’d done the impossible and
gotten her to risk her heart a second time. But her life was not his to play
with. A mere distraction until he became obsessed with the next shiny toy. Time
she drew a line in the sand. She’d been stepped on once too often and for as
long as she remained breathing, she wouldn’t allow it to happen again.

This ended here. Today.

She stomped around the couch and headed straight for the
door.

He bounded over the furniture and blocked her path. “You’re
not goin’ anywhere. I’ve still got at least ten minutes, dammit.”

“Look, you don’t owe me anything, least of all an
explanation so why waste your breath? And you know what? You’re right. I am
overreacting. For a moment I forgot I’m just another of your many conquests,
another notch on your belt. It’s not like we’re exclusive. I’m just another
fuck in a sea of many, right?”

He winced and his broad shoulders deflated in front of her.
For some reason her words appeared to sting him, but his pain brought her no
satisfaction.

Not a moment later, it was as if a light had switched on
behind his eyes. Like he’d solved a riddle. “Do that…thing! That thing you do.
Do it to me.”

She stared at him like he was crazy person.

“You know…the psychic mumbo-jumbo. Use it on me and see for
yourself.”

Mumbo-jumbo?

“It doesn’t work that way, Jesse!
I can’t read minds!
We’ve discussed this. You know my gift doesn’t work like that. I can’t use it
for my own gain. I don’t control what I see and besides, I haven’t gotten
any
kind of read on you. Nada. I’ve been running blind since the moment we
met.”

“What does that mean? You get nothing from me…at all?”

She shook her head.

He slammed his open hand against the door frame of the
living room and she flinched. “Fuck my life,” he whispered.

“Your time’s up and I need to go.”

He faced her and narrowed his eyes.

“If you don’t let me pass I won’t be held responsible for my
actions.”

“Where are you gonna go? You’re not due to fly home for a
coupla days.”

“Maybe the Comfort Inn can squeeze me in for a day or two. I
don’t care where I stay as long as it’s not here…with you. I’m flying home as
soon as possible.”

He moved aside just enough for her to squeeze by but
followed right behind as she strode across the foyer toward her luggage.

“Sam, please! Don’t leave. We need to talk this out. Just
let me explain.”

She screamed at the ceiling before spinning around. She
panted with anger and he recoiled. “I’ve
had
it with explanations and
excuses.” She held a flat hand above her head. “Up to
here
, in fact!
That’s all you men are good for. Coming up with excuses why you can’t keep it
in your pants.”

He rose to his full height and glared down at her. “I didn’t
fuck her!”

“No? Then how do our blowjobs compare?”

His mouth gaped open, but he denied nothing.

“You knew what I’d been through and yet you still went ahead
and played me. Bravo! Another score for you, rock star.” She showed him her
back and fumbled to collect half her luggage in her left hand.

“How could you say that? I told you I’d never be anything
but honest with you. That hasn’t changed. Nothing happened with me and Becky.”

She stretched to open the front door before gathering the
rest of her bags. “No, you told me you’d
try
to always be honest with
me. There’s a big difference.”

“Please, Sam. You’re making a huge mistake.” He reached for
her, but she quickly shuffled out the door.

“The only mistake I made was not walking away from you at
the start. Did you and the band get a good laugh? Was
Ricky
in on this
too? Ugh, forget it. I don’t wanna know.” She had to get away from him. The
pain of being this close was unbearable. He was disgusting. Infuriating!

She struggled with her bags, but her arms could burn as long
as her feet carried her to the refuge of the waiting taxi. “I wish I’d never
met you,” she muttered.

She didn’t know if he’d heard. She didn’t care. Tears flowed
down her cheeks and she didn’t refuse them. She couldn’t if she tried.

She let herself out the front gates, dropping one of her
bags twice before reaching the yellow taxi.

The arsehole in the driver’s seat didn’t even attempt to
help her. He popped the trunk.

Fucking men!

Chapter Seventeen

Jesse thought of canceling her security clearance before she
got to the gates, prevent her from leaving the estate without at least talking
some more, but she’d be even angrier if he did. He expected her to yell at him
when he’d first read the morning’s headlines, but it had never crossed his mind
that she would actually walk out on him. And when she started swearing? When
she asked if her blowjob compared to Becky’s? His brain had turned to mush. She
had officially stunned him and he feared his hesitance to respond had been
their undoing.

With as much experience as he had with women, he’d had very
few meaningful relationships. He could count them on two fingers. He’d never
had to try very hard to please and he’d certainly never chased a girl. He
didn’t have to.

As much as he wanted to rush after Sam, perhaps he should
let her go for now. Let her sleep it off. She’d see reason by tomorrow and he’d
find her and try to explain again. Hopefully she’d gone straight to the hotel.

He paced a track in the parquet floor, running his hands
through his hair, sick to his stomach. He ran up to his bedroom, not wanting to
believe she’d really left for good. He searched his room and the bathroom. Not
a crumb of her remained. She’d taken everything she owned. She was gone.

Is there a possibility she could fly home today? Would
she?

He took his cell from his pocket and tried her number. The
call went straight to voicemail. “Please don’t leave like this, Sam. I promise
you nothing happened with Becky. It’s just one
huge
misunderstanding.
Baby,
please
call me back. We can sort this out, I swear.”

He turned to leave the bedroom and his gaze fell upon the
emerald and diamond necklace in the wooden box. She’d placed it near his watch
on the dresser. It may as well have been a stake through his heart.

Shit! Fuck! Shit!

Back downstairs, he paced some more, faster, not sure where
to turn or what to do.

Should I go after her or wait in case she comes back?

He couldn’t stand the indecision bouncing around in his
head.

He called Rick for some feedback and his friend answered on
the first ring as if he’d been expecting Jesse’s call.

“What’s up, bro? You still in one piece or did she karate
chop your ass?” He laughed.

“She left! Fuckin’ left me, Ricky. She’s
gone
!”

“What? When?”

“About fifteen minutes ago. She doesn’t believe me, Rick.
Wouldn’t even let me explain. Becky’s really fucked me over this time, man. I
can’t
believe
she’s done this. A camera must have been hidden somewhere
in the cloakroom. That or someone else was in there with her. What the fuck
does she think she’s doin’?”

“Where are ya now?”

“At home, why?”

“What the fuck are ya waitin’ for? Go
after
her.
Don’t let her leave!” Rick shouted into the phone. “Tell her you love her, you
dumbass!”

Jesse clapped his phone shut and grabbed the first set of
car keys from the rack.

* * * * *

Sam arrived at JFK Airport under the assumption she’d have a
long wait ahead of her, but by some miracle she got a seat on the next plane
due to depart in thirty minutes. She had just enough time to check in before
the flight officially closed.

She glanced over her shoulder one last time before walking
through the long boarding tunnel, resigned to her fate.

She half-hoped Jesse had followed her to the airport, would
try to stop her from leaving. But he hadn’t, of course. Why would he? For one,
she’d told him she was going to a hotel and two, he’d never really cared for
her at all.

Why did he even bother inviting her to his home? And the
party? Was she just a pawn in some sick game to make Becky jealous?

She wasn’t sure of anything anymore. She’d been
cheated…again. But at least this time she hadn’t waited fifteen years before
finding out she’d picked a bad seed.

She questioned every moment of time she spent with him and,
even worse, she questioned her gift. Why had it taken the powers that be a
year
before letting her know of Tom and Charli’s affair? Why was she met with a
mental brick wall whenever she tried to get a read on Jesse? Maybe she’d gotten
too caught up in the moment, too blinded by his stardom and the great sex to
notice what was really going on. Where was her grandmother’s ghost when she
needed her advice the most? She was usually a good judge of character, so how
could she have been
so
wrong?

Her mind was a throbbing mess of confusion, her heart deeply
hurt—maybe beyond repair. She would never open it so easily again…if ever.

She closed her eyes and more useless tears fell as the plane
took to the air.

It was a long flight to Sydney, but she just wanted to be
home, amongst the familiar again.

* * * * *

Jesse should have followed his instincts when he sat idle at
the end of his driveway. His gut had told him to race straight for the airport,
but his head said to check the Comfort Inn—Sam wouldn’t lie.

He made a mental note to give his head an uppercut as soon
as the opportune moment presented itself and screeched to a halt outside the
international departures terminal.

He jumped from his BMW and sprinted for the glass doors.

“Hey, you can’t leave that here!” a parking inspector yelled
from the sidewalk.

Jesse ignored him and barged inside. He searched the faces
of the seated crowd, but Sam wasn’t among them. He raced through each terminal
in case she’d somehow gotten a different flight. He scanned the eatery and the
duty-free stores, checked the bars and lounges. He even poked his head inside
the bathrooms. He ran back to his starting point and searched again before
reality slammed into the pit of his stomach. She was gone.

He drifted over to the check-in desk and inquired after Sam
to the woman behind the counter, but she politely advised she wasn’t permitted
to give out passenger information…no matter how famous he was.

Shoulders slumped and with a heavy sigh, he turned away,
defeated.

“Ah, sir? What was that name again?”

“Sam. Samantha Raven.”

“Ahem…well…I can’t tell you if she’s on
that
flight,
but I can tell you it left fifteen minutes ago…should she have been that is.”

Her sly wink pried a smile from his lips. “Thank you.”

He headed for the door with his head hung low. He was too late.
He’d missed her. And he couldn’t buy a ticket on the next flight because he had
commitments he couldn’t walk away from.

Hundreds of employees depended on him to earn their living.
Tomorrow they had another meeting with the record execs, and then Jerico was
due in Chicago on Monday to start promoting the album.
Destiny
had to be
recorded before the album went to press. He and Jackson were going to do an
acoustic version, just the two of them on guitars. How the hell was he supposed
to sing that song now? Just the thought of it was like a hot knife to his
chest.

He’d planned to ask Sam to join him in Chicago and spend at
least another week with him. After that, he’d thought to rearrange their promo
schedule so they could go to Australia first instead of last. That way he
could’ve taken her home on the band’s private jet and would have had more time
to think through his next move…and if he was ready to make it.

This had all happened too fast. She wasn’t supposed to leave
yet. That wasn’t the plan.

A parking ticket fluttered on his windshield. If he’d been
any later getting back to his car, they probably would have towed it. Right
then, he didn’t really care. It was just a hunk of metal.

His mind wandered on the drive home. He wanted to call Sam’s
number again, but there was no point. She wouldn’t be landing until the
following night.

He went to his room and collapsed on top of the bed,
embedding his face in the pillow. Her scent still lingered on the linen. He
inhaled deeply. Citrus and oriental spice filled his senses, an intoxicating
aroma that was all Sam. He hadn’t cried since he was twenty-one years old, at
the death of his unborn child, but today his tears ran freely.

He woke with the sun beaming into his bedroom. He rolled
away from the glare, his head pounding with a headache from hell. He peered at
the clock. 10:18 a.m. His cell rang and he fumbled it from his pocket.

“Sam!” he breathed into the phone, his voice hoarse. A
moment passed before he realized she was still in the air.

“Jess? Where are you? You’re already twenty minutes late!”
Vince spoke loudly.

“Vinnie? Ah shit, is Ricky there? Put him on, will ya?”

“Jess, what’s goin’ on?” Rick said.

“Hey, buddy, can you do me a favor and look after that shit
today?” he croaked. “My head’s not up to it. You know what we want. There’s no
real need for me to come, is there?”

“Hang on a sec. Gentlemen, I need to take this call.” A door
closed, echoing through the phone. “Jess, what happened with Sam? You sound
like shit.”

“I was too late, Ricky. She’d already taken off by the time
I got there. I searched the entire airport twice, but she was already gone.” He
rested his hand on his head and sighed heavily.

“Look, don’t worry about today. I can handle things here.
I’ll tell them you’re not feeling well and are restin’ up for tomorrow. You
are
still planning on comin’ to Chicago, aren’t ya?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” he said, resigning himself to the
inevitable. Life had to go on no matter how fucked he felt.

“I’ll see you later, okay? They need me back inside. I’ll drop
by your place when I’m done so try to get some rest. We’ll work somethin’ out,
man. Don’t worry.”

* * * * *

Sarah Jones sat at a small table in her room at the Comfort
Inn, magazines and newspapers sprawled around her. She couldn’t have worn a
bigger smile.

“Heroin addict?
Ha!
Fantastic!” she said to the empty
room.

The party had gone better than she’d planned.

* * * * *

Sam attempted to sleep on the plane, but whenever she closed
her eyes all that lay behind them was Jesse…with Becky. She tried to read the
first chapter of a book yet couldn’t concentrate on the words. She took a stab
at getting drunk, except after just two glasses of champagne, she was slightly
sick instead of numb. Thankful for small favors, she at least had an empty seat
beside her. She didn’t have to worry about mindless chatter with a complete
stranger.

Her plane was due to land in two hours and she yearned for
her own bed. She planned to crash until she had to get up for work the next
morning. After that, the first thing she needed to do was get the Jerico
contract finished. Then she wouldn’t have anything else tying her to Jesse. She
could try to forget about him altogether. Especially since she’d thought of
nothing
but
him since she’d left.

It seemed the farther away she flew, the more her heart
ached.

Her flight touched down on time and once she’d collected her
luggage, she caught a cab to her house in Dee Why. She dumped her bags by her
letterbox and marched the adjacent path to collect the mail from her neighbor.

Once inside her front door, she finally relaxed her tired
muscles. She dropped her luggage and threw her mail onto the dining table
before heading straight for the shower. Jesse’s scent was still on her skin.

Scrubbed clean and slightly refreshed, she retrieved her
mobile from her handbag, turned on the radio and settled on the couch. She
switched her phone on for the first time in two days.

The first message was from Caitlin. No surprise there. They
tended to sense one another’s pain and worries. Sam had expected her call.
Another was from her mum—also frazzled around the edges.

The last two were from Jesse and her heart hurt just hearing
his voice. She wanted to delete them, but couldn’t bring herself to hit the
button. Instead she listened to what he had to say before throwing her phone
across the room.

It hit the wall, shattering the screen.

She fell asleep on the lounge a short time after depleting
what tears her ducts had left.

* * * * *

Before leaving for her first day back at the studio, Sam
called her mother, then Caitlin.

“What the hell is goin’ on?” Caitlin ranted as soon as she
picked up the phone. “Some really freaky shit has been happening around here
and I want some answers!”

“Well hello to you too, dear cousin.”

“Don’t ‘dear cousin’ me. What’s the freakin’ Beatles got to
do with anything?”

“What?”

“The
Beatles
! I was on a stupid blind date the other
night—don’t ask—and
Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds
broadcasted in stereo
on a revolving loop inside my head, courtesy of radio frequency 104.Sam FM.”

“I remember that—”

“No wait, there’s more. I cut the date short—again, don’t
ask—which was lucky ’cause within five steps of walking through my front door I
was trippin’, and I’m not talking the stumbling and falling kind.”

“You mean—”

“That’s exactly what I mean! Yellow submarine and all.”

“You felt that?”

“You’re damn right I felt that. What the hell have you been
doin’ with that rock star anyway?”

“Caitie… Where do I start?”

“The beginning and don’t leave anything out. I’m sittin’
back, my feet are up. I’ve got the time.”

“Yeah, but right now I don’t. I’m gonna be late for work.
Come over for dinner later tonight and I’ll tell you everything.”

Her ears met with exactly six seconds of silence before
Caitlin sighed into the phone. “Fine, but don’t even think about wimping out on
me. If you’re not home by the time I get there, I’m coming to look for you.”

“Okay, okay. Put your tracking devices away and I’ll—”