I Love the 80s (28 page)

‘I’ll keep that in mind.’ His hands tensed over the notebook, then he set it down beside him on the futon. Like it was alive, and had teeth. ‘And what’s it like in … how do you say it? Aught two? Aught ten?’

‘You say two thousand,’ Jenna said. Teacher to student. As if this was a normal conversation. ‘Two thousand eleven. Or twenty. Twenty twelve. Like that.’

It was almost as if he was interested in these details, but Jenna knew he wasn’t. She could feel the tension in him, emanating out in waves. Slicing into her like the wind through the concrete canyons.

‘I can’t tell you how fascinating this is,’ he said after a moment, and when he looked at her, Jenna saw a complete stranger.

‘Tommy, please,’ she said desperately. ‘I know this is impossible to hear. I know you don’t want to believe me – that you can’t. But you have to know that I would never tell you something like this if it wasn’t true. Why would I?’

‘Why would you?’ he echoed softly, and pulled himself to his feet. She saw a hint of despair cross his face, but then his mask came down and it was as if he was made of steel. Blank. Unyielding. ‘I can think of a few reasons,’ he said shortly. ‘But first and foremost, you’re obviously out of your fucking mind.’

‘I understand—’

‘It’s all in that book, isn’t it?’ he demanded, cutting her off. ‘Your whole plan of attack. I have to hand it to you, I really do. It’s certainly the most creative approach I’ve ever seen.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking—’

‘Bullshit.’ His voice cracked like a whip, and Jenna flinched. ‘You know exactly what I’m talking about. Make me think I’m being stalked, then save me from the stalker. What a hero you are. How could I do anything but fall in love with you?’

‘You think
I
—’ Jenna held up her hands, palms out. ‘That doesn’t make sense. How could I drive the car that almost hit you – and me?’

‘How did you know it was going to hit me?’ he fired back.

‘Because I knew,’ she said fiercely. ‘Because it already happened. And why would I endanger myself – with the car, the fire – if the plan was to lure you in somehow?’

‘I don’t know why,’ he snapped. ‘But we’re talking about someone who thinks she was
sent back in time
, so I’m not exactly looking for rational explanations at this point. You’re lucky I don’t call the cops.’

‘The cops.’ She couldn’t believe it was
this
bad. Her heart was hammering against her ribs. ‘Why on earth would you call the cops?’

‘Because that’s what you do when you find out you have a crazy stalker with absolutely no grip on reality,’ Tommy threw at her. He jabbed a finger in the direction of her notebook. ‘Especially one with a detailed plan leading up to your death.’

Jenna put her trembling fingers to her temples.

‘Tommy,’ she said, fighting to stay calm, ‘you can think I’m crazy. You can think I’m a stalker. I don’t blame you. But you have to believe me –
someone is trying to kill you.
’

‘Yeah,’ he said. His gaze bored into her. ‘I’m looking at her.’

‘It’s not me!’ she yelled. ‘For God’s sake!’

‘Stay away from me, Jenna.’ His voice came out in a hiss, and his eyes narrowed to slits. He looked dangerous. She felt fear skate down the back of her neck.

‘You have to be careful—’ she tried again.

‘Stay the fuck away from me, or I really will have your ass thrown in jail,’ he told her in that low, ominous voice. ‘Unless, of course, you can go back to the future like Michael J. fucking Fox.’

He brushed past her, not even trying to avoid it, and that slight bit of contact rocked her.

‘Tommy …’ But she only whispered it, and anyway, the door slammed hard behind him.

He was gone.

* * *

Tommy spent a long time walking the streets before he calmed down enough to notice where he was. Even when he recognized that he was near the Midtown Tunnel, which was nowhere near anywhere he’d want to go, he didn’t care.

She’s fucking crazy
, he told himself over and over. It was like a song in his head.
She’s a fucking crazy lunatic
.

His heart had broken. He’d actually felt it happen. Every word she’d said cracked it into pieces, smaller and smaller. Until there was nothing left but rage and despair, because he’d thought he’d found someone. Finally. He’d thought he wasn’t alone.

Wake up, Tommy
, he told himself harshly. Bitterly.
You’re always alone
.

He couldn’t even begin to unravel the levels of insanity involved. He couldn’t allow himself to think about what she’d said, but at the same time, he couldn’t think of anything else. How could he have spent so much time with her and seen no sign of it until now? She had to throw
time travel
at him before he noticed the fact she was a stark, raving psycho? Where was the yellow light, for God’s sake?

Time travel. Of all fucking things. The twenty-first century. She’d even mentioned the millennium. Of course she had.
Time travel.
All the while looking at him with her huge brown eyes,
wounded
that he somehow couldn’t swallow the nonsense coming out of her mouth.

How the hell had he failed to see this before?

Tommy heard himself take a ragged breath, and decided that it had to stop. Enough. The person he’d thought he was falling in love with didn’t exist. He’d been played. It wasn’t the first time and it probably wouldn’t be the last, not with his luck. It was one of the prices of fame. Yet another cost no one warned you about, but it happened to everyone. It was unavoidable, really. So what if his heart had shattered? He shouldn’t have let his heart get involved in the first place.

He knew better. And he’d pegged her from the get-go. How had he let her worm her way under his skin?
He knew better.
He hated himself for his weakness. His loneliness. Because that’s what it was. He’d been so desperate to be listened to. Heard. What a fucking chump.

But no more. He was done.

Once he made up his mind, he moved fast. His long strides ate up the distance, and soon enough he was back at Duncan’s office building. After all this time, he knew his scumbag of a manager too well. No way, on the night his band made a new number one, did Duncan Paradis stay out celebrating with Eugenia. Hell, no. That was what lesser moguls might do, but Duncan had much sturdier ambitions.

He didn’t look surprised to see Tommy standing in his doorway.

‘What the fuck do you want?’ he grunted, barely sparing Tommy a glance before returning his attention to his desk. ‘Missed me?’

‘Jenna Jenkins,’ Tommy said in a clipped voice. It hurt
to say her name. He planned never to say it again after this conversation. ‘Fire her.’

‘A few hours ago you were up Nick’s ass about this girl, jumping to her defence like some demented white knight, and now you want to fire her?’ But Duncan seemed amused. He shifted in his chair and smirked. ‘Trouble in paradise?’

‘There’s no conspiracy,’ Tommy said, folding his arms across his chest. ‘No one’s whispering anything behind your back. You never needed her in the first place.’

‘She was either going to report on you, or do you,’ Duncan replied, meeting Tommy’s gaze with a bland one of his own. He shrugged. ‘I didn’t care which.’

‘I appreciate you pimping for me,’ Tommy said drily. ‘I’m a lucky guy. You picked me a fiancée, too.’

‘I’d wipe your ass if I had to,’ Duncan said, leaning back in his chair. ‘But I’d take it out of your royalties, believe me.’

Tommy hated him. But he also knew him. Duncan could not surprise him, or shock him. Not any more. Duncan was a known quantity. After tonight, he decided that was comforting.

‘Someone’s trying to kill me,’ Tommy said, watching his manager’s face just in case. Duncan’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t otherwise change expression. ‘All these accidents lately. I think Jenna might be involved.’

‘She’s gone,’ Duncan said immediately. He tapped his fingers against the desk. ‘The car thing happened right
around the time she came on board. You think she’s going to escalate?’

Tommy saw the last page in that notebook.
TOMMY DIES
. The date. He blew out a breath, and ignored the stab of pain in the region of his chest. His heart was ashes anyway. It was a phantom pain.

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘She might.’

‘Any proof? Something we can hand the cops?’

‘Nothing like that.’ Because he couldn’t bring himself to touch that notebook again, he’d left it behind. He felt dirty even knowing it existed.

‘I understand the urge to kill you,’ Duncan said, his shark’s smile on full display. ‘I share it. But I can’t allow it. There’s too much money involved, and I don’t accept your resignation from the band anyway. There’s way more cash to make out of your sorry ass.’

Tommy rolled his eyes. There was no point responding in any more detail.

‘I’ll hire a couple bodyguards in case she goes to DEFCON 1,’ Duncan said. ‘Is that what you want? Is that enough?’

‘Make sure I don’t see her,’ Tommy said. He looked away. ‘That’s what I want.’

‘Done,’ Duncan replied.

‘You know, you didn’t need a spy.’ Tommy was surprised to hear how bitter his voice was. ‘You could have asked me what you wanted to know. I hate you enough to tell you the truth.’

‘Where’s the fun in that?’ Duncan asked, his voice hard. ‘And don’t worry, asshole. I hate you too.’

Tommy let out a short laugh, and then headed for the elevators. He didn’t bother saying goodbye. He felt hollowed out.

And even so, that exchange with Duncan had been the most honest and real of the night.

Jenna woke up in a sudden, inexplicable panic, her mouth dry as Death Valley and her eyes gritty and swollen. It took her long, stupid moments to realize that the phone was ringing.

The most immediate source of panic identified, she launched herself up and across the floor – knowing even as she lurched towards the shrieking phone that it was not going to be Tommy.

It hurt even to think his name – she felt a sob roll through her chest and she ruthlessly clamped down on it. No more sobbing. She was sobbed out.

And she knew he wouldn’t be the one calling her. There was no coming back from
time travel.

But her heart still pounded like she was running a marathon.

Jenna snatched up the receiver and muttered something into it, hoping it approximated a greeting.

‘Oh, Jen.’ It was Ken Dollimore, which was not in itself
surprising. But the fact that he sounded almost … nurturing?

That anomaly woke Jenna up like a triple espresso. She rubbed at her abused eyes with her free hand. God, she missed espresso.

‘Ken?’ She wanted to ask if he’d been body-snatched or had suffered a head injury of some kind, but restrained herself.

‘I warned you,’ he said in that same, almost-sweet voice, the one that surely belonged to someone else. Because Ken was many things – including, yesterday, unexpectedly confiding – but caring in a vaguely paternal way? Never.

And yet, he made a distinct
clucking
sort of noise over the phone, like some kind of mother hen.

‘I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,’ Jenna told him truthfully.

‘I just hung up with Duncan Paradis,’ Ken said, making a strange sort of wheezing noise that Jenna knew meant he was propping his feet up on the desk she’d so diligently cleared the day before. ‘The long and short of it is, your services are no longer required.’

Jenna let out a sigh. ‘I figured,’ she said. Then she caught on to the strange tone. ‘Why are you being so …
careful
with me?’

She felt certain, somehow, that whatever Tommy had reported to Duncan or even to Ken,
time travel
had not come into it. It was, happily, entirely too crazy for casual conversation. She had that to hold on to.

‘I feel for you,’ Ken said in that same
careful
tone, ‘I do. And don’t worry, I don’t believe whatever bullshit they’re saying about
mental-health issues
. It’s so transparent. These famous types will say anything to avoid having to deal with real-life issues like real-life people—’

‘Mental-health issues,’ Jenna repeated dully. It was only to be expected, of course. It was acceptable code for
she started talking about coming back in time.
Yet it still stung.

‘Look,’ Ken said matter-of-factly, a veritable font of advice all of a sudden. ‘You have to be practical about these things. It was never going to work out. He’s who he is, and you and me, we’re normal people. This is how it goes. You have to figure out a way to be happy about the time you had. Like it was a gift.’

‘A gift,’ Jenna repeated. She realized she sounded moronic. Part of that was the cotton-mouthed, woolly-headed thing she had going on, thanks to a long night of heartbreak, but another part was her inability to process the fact that her supercharged, elfin boss was
consoling
her.

And, moreover, that he thought he was one of the normal ones.

‘I want you to take a week off and rest,’ Ken continued. ‘And I’m not being nice here, Jen, believe me – I’ve had secretaries who got dumped before, and I can’t cope with the weeping and the phone calls and the downer of it all.’

‘You,’ Jenna said drily, ‘are truly an amazing man.’

‘Sleep, eat chocolate, watch videos of
Romancing the Stone
and
Streets of Fire
– whatever you have to do,’ Ken said magnanimously. ‘I’ll see you next Wednesday. Okay?’

‘Um, sure.’ Jenna replaced the receiver in a daze. Only Ken Dollimore could give a vacation on one hand, and be so profoundly shallow on the other. Complete with a Michael Paré reference. She supposed it didn’t much matter – in the end, she had a week to herself.

A week to save Tommy, who would die in five days.

It would be harder now, but it wasn’t as if she could stop trying to save him simply because he thought she was a psycho.
Spoken like a true stalker
, she told herself sourly.

Jenna sucked in a ragged breath, then let it out in a rush.
Breathe
, she ordered herself sternly. In. Out. In. Out. She felt a little dizzy, and certainly not calm. Maybe she just wasn’t going to feel calm until this was over.