Love Me Sweet (A Bell Harbor Novel) (24 page)

“A soap maker?” Finch finally chuckled.

“Yeah. I guess if I couldn’t see through that story, well, maybe I deserved what I got.”

Finch nudged the shot glass of whiskey toward Grant with his fingertips. “Here, Cameraman. I think you need this more than I do.”

Chapter 25

LANDING AT LAX WAS LIKE
reentering the earth’s atmosphere. For one thing, it was warm, and Delaney Masterson hadn’t been truly warm since she’d driven that yellow Volkswagen past the California state line heading toward Michigan. She shoved up the sleeves of the bubblegum-pink sweater Sissy had given her and wished again that she’d had some time at the Memphis airport this morning to buy something a little less vibrant to wear. It was hard to sneak through a crowd in neon-highlighter pink. Sissy had given her some jeans to wear too. They were too tight and too short, but Delaney’s other jeans were in desperate need of washing. She couldn’t stand to wear them one more day.

She made her way through the airport terminal hallway, head down, Louis Vuitton backpack over her shoulder, University of Memphis baseball hat pulled low, wearing a pair of oversized sunglasses that she’d picked up from the Heartbreak Hotel gift shop before leaving.

Her good-byes at the hotel with Clark, Sissy, Sammy, Humphrey, and Finch had left her a little sad, as if she were leaving family behind to take a long voyage to another country. They’d each done the
oh, we should keep in touch
thing, and she sincerely hoped they would. They’d become her friends over the last few days and shared an experience that no one else would quite understand.

Reggie had even been a little teary eyed as he’d wished her well before sending her through the security line at the Memphis airport. Or he might have just been hungover. Hard to tell.

“Good luck, honeybun,” he’d whispered in her ear as he gave her a fast hug. “You ever need anything, you know who to call, right? Finch. Call Finch. Don’t call me.” Then he’d laughed and hugged her again.

“Thank you, Reggie. For everything. And don’t forget. Come out to California someday and I’ll introduce you to my dad. You two can jam. I promise.”

“It’s a date.” He’d smiled, then turned and walked away before she could say anything else. Of all the Paradise Brothers, she’d miss Reggie most of all.

But nothing compared to how much she missed Grant. That was a gaping hole right through her chest. She could practically feel the wind passing through it, but she didn’t have time for that distress right now. One thing at a time, and right now her focus had to be on getting back to her family and figuring out the rest of her life.

She’d spent her airplane ride planning and pondering and plotting her next steps. Whatever came next, she wanted to be in charge of it. No more letting herself be buffeted about by other peoples’ actions. Being without her phone and wallet and money had made her feel vulnerable, but it had clarified things for her too. The whole experience had given her a chance to realize just how little she actually needed.

At the end of the LAX terminal a cluster of people stood waiting for disembarking passengers. Delaney was nearly face-to-face with her sister before Melody gasped.

“Lane? Oh my God. Is that you?”

“Incognito,” Delaney said and kept on walking. There were always photographers at LAX, and she hoped to get to the car before they spotted her.

But Melody turned and trotted along beside her, and Delaney only made it two more steps before her emotions got the best of her and she pulled her sister in for a big, full hug.

Home. She was home. It wasn’t perfect here, and she wasn’t perfect either, and the next couple of weeks might be ass-sucking awful, but at least she was home. “I’m never running away from home again,” she said breathlessly.

“Good.” Melody was emphatic, her arms tight. “You scared the crap out of everyone. Roxanne read some article that said you’d joined a hillbilly cult or something.”

Delaney loosened her grasp and they started walking toward the exit again. “Hillbilly cult? What would make her say that?”

“I don’t know. Just something she saw online. Who are the Paradise Brothers?”

Delaney chuckled. “Just some friends.” Apparently friends who had scored a little notoriety from this. Reggie would be pleased.

They kept walking, past baggage claim and ticket counters.

“What are you wearing?” Melody asked as they reached the doors and headed out into the California sunshine. “Is that . . . is that polyester?”

Delaney glanced down. “Um, I don’t know. Probably.”

“It looks flammable. It’s an awful color. Are those . . . oh my God. Are those Wranglers?” She may as well have been saying
oh my God, do you have cancer?

Delaney stopped and faced her sister. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through in the last several days, Mel? Do you realize how insignificant what I’m wearing is given the circumstances?”

Melody patted her shoulder. “No, I don’t have any idea what you’ve been through because you’ve refused to tell me anything. But you sound like you’ve been brainwashed, and if that’s led to you wearing this, then it must have been harrowing.”

“Lane, oh my darling,” her mother cried just as soon as Delaney was in the front door of their Beverly Hills home. She pulled her in for a tight hug, her jewelry jingling over a spandex workout top. “Thank God, you’re finally home. We’ve been worried sick.”

“I know, Mom. I’m sorry. My phone got stolen and then there was the car accident. It was all crazy.”

Her sister Roxanne joined in on the hug. “Hey, welcome home. We missed you.”

“Lane, is that you?” Her tall, lanky dad came into the room wearing something from the Steven Tyler collection, and she moved from her mother’s hug into his. His hair was back in a ponytail that every single one of them wanted him to cut off. “Hi, Daddy.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Well, we are sure glad to have you home. I was about ready to call out the National Guard. What the hell have you been up to?”

“Just trying to take a little break from reality. Turns out reality follows you.”

“Well, come and sit down and tell us everything.” Her dad pulled her over to the sofa but the others moved with them en masse, as if no one wanted to let her out of their sight, and it warmed Delaney through. The press might be out there ready to pounce, but her family loved her, and that’s what mattered most.

She filled them in on most of the details, wanting to be as honest as possible. If she’d learned anything from this experience, it was that dishonesty just wasn’t worth the trouble it caused, and it ate away at your soul, leaving a big black stain. But one thing she wasn’t completely forthright about was how much she missed Grant. It wasn’t so much a secret, but it was
private
. Another thing Delaney had figured out during her soul-searching plane ride was that she had a right to that. Privacy. Just because she shared parts of her life, she didn’t have to share all of it.

She held it together pretty well with her family, and she was feeling a little proud of herself for that. No pity. No whining. She owned up to her part in everything that had happened, and she was determined to face what came next. But when she was getting ready for bed that night and pulled out the
I love Elvis
shirt Grant had given her to sleep in, she gave in to all her sadness. She’d earned that too, this right to feel devastated. Whatever they’d had, it had been beautiful and special and she wanted it back. She wanted him back. True love wasn’t about the amount of time you spent with someone, it was about the quality of the time. She just needed for him to figure that out too.

“Good morning, Lane. Sure is nice seeing you sitting there again,” her dad said the next morning as he poured a cup of coffee. She was at the kitchen table sorting through a few weeks’ worth of junk mail that had arrived in her absence. She’d have to remember if she ever ran away again to forward her mail. It was going to take her hours just to deal with all of this.

He came and sat down. It was just the two of them. They were the early risers and she’d always loved that they had this little pocket of time together before the rest of the family was buzzing around. It was also before the cameras showed up.

“Are they going to be filming today?” she asked.

He nodded. “That was the plan. You know they actually want to do some extra interview time with you too. Are you ready for that?”

No, she’d never be ready for that. “Sure. I’ll do my best.”

He sighed, and for just that moment, he looked his age. He looked almost paternal. Almost. “You don’t have to, you know.”

“I don’t have to do my best?” she teased.

He smiled the famous Jesse Masterson smile. The one that had made all women of a certain age melt and remember their high school days, but to Delaney, it was just her dad’s smile.

“You should always try to do your best, sweetheart, but what I mean is, you don’t have to do this interview. You don’t even have to do the show if you don’t want to. Honestly, I feel just awful that the stress of all these cameras made you drive off into Timfucktu, Michigan.” He took a slug of coffee and set the cup down hard.

“Dad, it wasn’t so much these cameras as it was Boyd’s camera. That’s what sent me over the edge.” Few things in life could be more humiliating than talking to your father about your sex video, even if your dad was a longtime rock ’n’ roller with a checkered history of his own. But he still had that paternal face going, and for the moment she felt very much like his little girl.

“You just say the word and the lawyers will go after him. Tony says the case is strong, especially if they can prove Boyd benefited financially.”

“Word.” She smiled.

“What?”

“I’m saying the word. Let’s tell Tony to go for it. I’m not much for revenge, but Boyd broke the law and that’s not OK. Yes, I was a consenting adult, but I never consented to being videotaped, so I have to think about what kind of message it sends if I don’t defend myself.”

Her dad nodded, contemplating her words, his hands wrapped around his mug of coffee. “That’s true. I guess you do.”

“You know, I spent the last few weeks being terribly embarrassed about this, and honestly, I still am, but the worst thing I could do was to hide. I don’t want people thinking I’m a coward, but even more than that, I don’t want people thinking I had any part of this. I have to speak out and remind everyone that Boyd is the one who did something wrong.”

Her dad stroked his chin with his thumb and index finger as if he was letting this soak in. “That’s pretty courageous of you, Lane, and you know the family is behind you one hundred percent.”

“I know you are. I appreciate that. I’m sorry I ran away and freaked everybody out.”

“Well, you did what you had to do, I guess.”

“I could have handled it much better, though, and there’s something else you should know.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ll keep doing the
Pop Rocks
show because I want to honor my contract, but we have to tell the producers no more footage of me looking ditzy. That’s not who I am, and it’s not the persona I want people to see. I do nice things, and I do worthwhile things, so I want viewers to know that and not just think I spend all my time getting my nails done and gossiping about other celebrities.”

He leaned back in his chair, tilting it on two legs. “Delaney Louise Masterson, you’re like a whole different person this morning.”