The Story of Lansing Lotte (52 page)
“Done,” he said.
My mouth opened as he held a heart shaped ruby in front of me. The two diamonds on either side were almost as large as the ruby. It was huge.
“Yours is pretty, too, Lila,” Fleur said.
I gazed down at her sweet face looking up at me, before I returned my eyes to Lansing.
“It’s gorgeous,” I whispered.
“So are you,” he replied.
I bit my lip and stared at his mouth again.
“Lila,” he said. “Going to answer the question?”
“What was it?” I teased.
“Will you marry me?”
I looked down at Fleur who was watching us.
“What should I say, Sweet Pea?”
“Yes,” she giggled.
“Yes,” I said, looking back at Lansing. His mouth captured mine and I was instantly ready to kiss him for eternity, when a little voice interrupted us.
“Can we dance, now?”
I pulled back and laughed. “What?”
“Mr. Lansing said after you get married. There will be a dance.”
Lansing was still holding onto me, and he kissed my neck before he responded to Fleur.
“We aren’t married yet, Ladybug. But we can still dance, now.” He reached down to lift her up, and she squealed as he balanced her on his hip to waltz her around the room. He turned on his phone which connected to wireless speakers and the room filled with music. Fleur squirmed to be released and instantly began twirling around the room. Lansing made his way back to me. His hands slipped over my cheeks into my hair. He held me like that as he began to sway with me. We were off beat from the upbeat rhythm of the rock music spilling into the room, but I realized that’s just how our story would be: a little off from the norm.
It had been a few months since Lila and Fleur moved into the penthouse. We had a lot of space and little furniture, but Lila and I were in no rush to fill it. We had our beautiful dining room table, which was multi-purpose in my opinion. We bought a new bed, as sometimes Fleur would crawl in with us. At first, I was worried that it didn’t seem right, but Lila assured me she thought it was okay. It was often only earlier in the mornings. At times, I had that feeling I’d had one day on my couch, as Fleur lay between Lila and I. I would look over at her snuggled up to Lila, and know all I’d ever needed was in that bed.
We were a strange mix. Lila was patient knowing I had a son on the way. She was understanding of doctor visits, but I declined shopping for baby things. I already worried I would be like Arturo and Morte, when I wasn’t involved in the small things, but I had to be sensitive of Elaine, also. She planned to move back upstate, where she would be out of the society limelight, and less pressured to partake in social events. She claimed she wanted fresh air and solid values for our son, and with reluctance I agreed it would be best. I worried that Lila would think of me as Josh Tucker, but I had no intention of denying my son. He would have whatever he needed to be happy.
For me, that happiness was being with Lila. Our place had space for us to be home, but on our own. She did earn some commissions to take photographs that were more reputable than gossip shots, and she was looking into classes for the following fall when Fleur would be in kindergarten. I couldn’t plan that far ahead, so I worked on streamlining my song for the album, and continued my vigilance to help Kaye find Arturo. We knew he was close, we just didn’t know where.
Kaye had eventually learned that the secret floor above the children’s wing was a rehabilitation center for the rich and famous. Their services ranged from drug and alcohol support to physical therapy. The purpose of the floor was privacy to meet the needs of their high profile clientele. We hadn’t confirmed that Arturo was actually a patient there, or that he was released from their services. We hadn’t confirmed that Mure Linn had ever been on the floor, despite Lila’s encounter, but Tristan set his charms on a nurse after hours and we did learn that Arturo had been on the floor with an older man on several occasions. As Tristan didn’t follow through with a second round for any woman, we didn’t get any further than that information.
Guinevere separated from the band a bit more. Tristan and she had formed a friendship of sorts, but I knew it was best for me to stay away. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust myself around Guinevere. I was over that, but I didn’t want to make any one uncomfortable, least of all Lila. She was still a bit shy of our situation. She trusted me, but she still had her concerns. The fans. The girls. She didn’t trust the industry. Only time would show her I wasn’t going anywhere. Once I was committed to something, I was loyal to the end.
I had my own worries. One day, Arturo King would return, and I would have to face my sins of sleeping with my best friend’s girl. I would have to admit my anger at his betrayal, separating from us instead of coming to us for help. I would have to accept how he handled the band and our friendship, once he learned my story. I knew that I would be able to take his punishment as long as I had Lila, my shining star, to guide me. I knew that I wasn’t a hero. I hadn’t saved Lila and Fleur. They had saved me.
I was walking Fleur home from pre-school. Her small mitten hand in mine, as the snow fell lightly through the city. I had that strange sensation of being watched again. There had been a few additional photographs of Lila, Fleur and I since that our relationship was public knowledge. I tried not to worry as Lila was growing more comfortable with the attention and less concerned that Josh Tucker would make any claim to his paternity. Fleur and I stood still at the corner, waiting for the cross walk light to change when that sensation overtook me again and I turned to my right. Across the street was Arturo King. He stood with his hands in the pockets of a leather jacket I hadn’t seen before. He wore his dark aviators but I would know him anywhere. I felt his eyes on me, even though I couldn’t see them. I knew they were dark and cold behind the lens.
I felt a tiny hand squeeze mine. I squeezed it back in reassurance then realized that Fleur was trying to get my attention to cross the street, as the light had changed. I shouldn’t have done it. It was wrong to use the child, but I picked Fleur up and turned to face Arturo, head on. His left hand slid out of his pocket and he pushed the sunglasses up his wavy mass of hair. His rough haired face was firm, as his dark eyes met mine with the intensity I expected. We held on each other’s gaze until I saw Fleur wave. At Arturo.
I looked at her and she had a small smile on her face as her hand wiped back and forth several times in Arturo’s direction then stopped. My eyes returned to Arturo whose mouth had quirked up on one side. He nodded once in our direction and began to walk away.
“Arturo?” I yelled across the traffic moving in the direction opposite from him. He didn’t look back. I had a choice. I could rush the traffic, weaving through the cars as I jostled Fleur or I could let Arturo go, and take Perk’s attitude. When Arturo was ready, he would return. Until then, The Nights would have to wait.
Acknowledgements
First, I have to thank the readers who have fallen in love with Arturo. Thank you so much for your words of encouragement and blasphemy (how could I end it like that!), and thank you for anxiously awaiting
The Story of Lansing Lotte
without stoning me for it being a mere three months. I am hopeful you will enjoy the upcoming stories of both Perkins Vale and Tristan Lyons before I return to Guinevere and Arturo.
Thank you to the amazing editing and friendship of Karen Hrdlicka. I worship Facebook like a Holy Grail for bringing you into my life. Thank you to the amazing talent of Kari Ayasha at Cover to Cover Designs. She never fails to make me gasp when I first open those files and see a gorgeous cover. Thank you, also, to the ever patient Brenda Wright, and her tremendous skill with formatting the inside of my books beautifully.
A huge hug and thank you to The Naughty Nine: Karen, Katie, Sylvia, Tanisha, Tiffany, Marnie, Mariela and Kristina (and me makes nine). For moments of pure laughter, your amazing support, and general friendship, thank you so much for helping me try to continue my dream. Thank you to my street team: Dunbar’s Dreamers. You ladies rock! And thank you Jen Wildner for taking on the frustrating task of helping me promote my work. To the hundreds of bloggers, and readers, who share promos, posts, teasers, just anything and everything you do, thank you, thank you, thank you.
Last, but never least, is my family, who does complain more opening (now that I’m on book six) that I’m on the computer too often, but still leaves me alone to write. I love you all, and I hope my children are learning it’s important to follow dreams no matter how old you are.
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Author Note
(Spoiler alert)
As I said in
The Legend of Arturo King
, this is my interpretation and modernization of the amazing stories that surrounded King Arthur, and his most famous knight and best friend, Lancelot. I might not have translated from history one hundred percent, but I wanted a happy ending for Lansing Lotte. That’s where Lila Lovelourne comes in – that, and a blue screen of death.
The worse thing a writer can experience is that blue screen of death, when an entire book is only saved on one computer. Then the flashdrive it’s on breaks, literally, into pieces; a whole story gone, but lingering. I had not forgotten the general premise, although the idea of rewriting an entire novel was daunting. Into Lansing’s story walks Lila, renamed, but essentially the heroine of the other story.
She’s inherited two things: her father’s apartment and her sister’s daughter
. That’s how the other story began, and that’s how she infiltrated this story. At times, she took over, and I had the girl that Lansing needed to change the course of history. It is my telling, so I could not let Lansing have an unhappy ending. I could not continue the affair that plagued a whole kingdom. If you want a direct hint to whether Lansing and Guinie get back together, the answer is Guinevere’s true love is Arturo King: historically and presently.
On that note, I want to mention again that great heroes are often just men. They make mistakes while they learn to love. Lansing Lotte epitomizes this idea. He’s flawed, but he’s trying. If you are bothering to read this note, you’ve likely made it through the book, and know the truth of Arturo currently. I hope you continue on the adventure through Perkins Vale (
The Quest of Perkins Vale
) and Tristan Lyons (
The Truth of Tristan Lyons
) before returning to Guinevere in
The Trials of Guinevere DeGrance
. The ride through life isn’t smooth, and sometimes neither is love.
