Epic (Fierce) Page 17

  They talked quietly about the music Griffin had written for the score, while I fell headlong into the beautiful cinematography and flawless acting of the cast. I could see why the movie was getting the kind of buzz it was getting. I hadn’t seen many of the other contenders for best movie of the year, but I couldn’t imagine any other movie being as pitch perfect as what Angus had put together. I was in tears by the time the credits rolled, which – if I did my job right – would be exactly where my song would be placed in its entirety. When moviegoers left the theater, it would be on the sweeping notes of my song.

  Now I could see why every other interpretation had fallen short. It was such an epic story that it demanded an equally epic song to capture it.

  I dug out the sheet music and the three of us sat together in the sitting room of my hotel suite, with Diego playing along on his guitar. Griffin backed up my vocals, which surprised me. I had never really heard him sing before. He had always been billed as a guitarist, which brought him plenty of fame and glory all on its own.

  He was far more talented than I could have imagined, as was Diego as he sang along. By the time the sun peaked through the curtains of the room, we were all still on fire with what we had created in the wee morning hours. We headed to the studio before seven o’clock, and by noon Griffin finally called Angus to let him know we were done with the song.

  Diego was overwhelmed to be included in the process. After his thoughtful, insightful input all night, there was no way either Griffin or I would have shut him out. Diego was floored when Griffin asked what name he wanted to use for the songwriting credit. Out of that dark, Goth exterior, a new Diego emerged the minute he brushed his hair from his face.

  He even smiled.

  There wasn’t one whisper of complaint as we headed back to the hotel to grab what little sleep we could. We were still flying high from the successful creative process, which usually put such necessities like food or sleep on the back burner.

  The three of us celebrated with room service, and finally Diego passed out on the sofa. I walked Griffin to the elevator. “Thank you,” I offered sincerely. I didn’t know why Griffin had picked this night to become human, but I was endlessly grateful he had. He hadn’t just given me a song worth of a coveted Oscar, he had given me my brother.

  It was a priceless gift.

  Griffin smiled down at me. “Thank you, Jordi,” he responded softly.

  “For what?” I asked.

  “For letting me in,” he answered simply. “You’re closed off. And I get why. But beautiful things can happen when you open up to other people. You can’t save the world all on your own.”

  I shrugged. “I’m the only one I could ever count on,” I replied. “I’ve been burned a lot, Griffin.”

  “I get that,” he said. “You certainly had no reason to trust me. I’m the biggest phony in show business.”

  My eyebrow arched. “What does that mean?”

  The elevator chimed as it reached our floor. He chuckled as he quipped, “Saved by the bell.”

  I grinned. “This time, Griffin Slade.”

  He stepped inside the elevator. “’Night, love. If I can call you that.”

  I thought about it only for a second. “Yeah. I guess it’s OK.”

  He wore a happy smirk as the doors closed behind him. I mirrored his smile as I walked back to my room to catch a few hours of sleep.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  July 14, 2012

  Angus was so pleased with the final recording of “Pieces of Me” that he invited all three of us back to New York to record another version complete with a symphony orchestra. Diego was blown away by the idea, but reluctant to leave his mom. Maya was scheduled to go back home, and he felt now more than ever that he had to stay in the apartment with her to keep Sonny’s influence at a minimum. I wanted to take her with us to New York, but her frail health posed a whole list of new complications… the biggest of which is that Sonny would insist on going anywhere that she went.

  Angus had already offered to let us fly out on his private jet. He had a pilot’s license, and regularly flew his friends around the world. He could easily accommodate Diego and me, along with Maya and any staff she needed to take care of her during the journey. I suggested that Griffin bring Kamaria, but since Unapologetic B!tches had won the battle of the bands, her schedule had suddenly filled with obligations she couldn’t postpone.

  Instead Griffin would travel with Emma, his trusted assistant. So there was plenty of seating for Maya and her unfortunate other half.

  Both Griffin and Diego pointed out it was safer to take both of them and keep them under a watchful eye than leave her alone with him in an apartment that now needed an extensive cleaning. I used that as the main excuse to get Maya to consent to the trip. She hadn’t wanted to return to the East Coast, particularly in the shape she was in, but finally relented when she realized that she could see both her children live their dream on a New York City stage.

  And of course Sonny couldn’t miss that.

  We hired a nurse to travel with us, and were in the air together by Sunday afternoon.

  We all stayed in the same hotel, booking an entire bank of rooms overlooking Central Park. Sonny was on his best behavior, as I knew he would be. Since he considered himself a VIP by proxy, he did his level best to impress the other people who traveled with us. He waited until Maya had drifted to sleep and the nurse put her head in a book before he walked over to Emma, using his best charms to openly flirt with her, but he kept any menacing behavior just below the surface.

  Only Griffin, Diego and I knew what he was capable of beyond his slimy exterior. Griffin proved a handy shield to keep Sonny away from Diego and me. We used song rehearsal as an excuse to huddle together on the other side of the plane.

  Sonny didn’t challenge us. He was enjoying his new jet-setting life a little too much to rock the boat. He sipped on expensive champagne as we soared across the country, killing enough bottles to pass completely out for the blissful latter half of our flight.

  I breathed a sigh of relief as I took a seat to myself and watched the patchwork quilt of America pass below our feet. Griffin sauntered over to where I sat. “You OK?” he asked as he sat.

  I nodded. “It’s not ideal,” I said quietly as I glanced where Sonny napped, “but it’s better than the alternative, I guess.”

  “What are you going to do when you get back to Las Vegas?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said with another sigh. “I haven’t thought that far ahead. The doctors aren’t confident how much longer she’ll last,” I finally admitted. “They didn’t even want us to take this trip. But I figured the fewer minutes one had left in life, the more important it was to make those minutes count.”

  “Always been my philosophy,” Griffin agreed without looking at me. “A carefully lived life is no life at all.”

  “You should know,” I teased. “You live life to the limit.”

  He shrugged. “Life is too precious not to,” he said. “It only takes one real loss to bring that message home.”

  I glanced at him. “Sounds like the voice of experience.”

  His dark eyes met mine. “You could say that.” He changed the subject easily. “Like I’m telling you anything you haven’t already learned. Look at all you’ve lost.”

  I thought about my dad, which was another reason I desperately wanted Maya to make this particular trip. I had hoped to learn more about him, to share with her the memories she made with him, but more importantly I needed to remind her of him, so that she could see how anything less than what my dad had offered wasn’t love at all. He had given her the gift of hope when nothing in her life up until that point had shown her hope was even possible.

  It was what I had hoped to prove to her now, to show her that she deserved so much more than the things for which she had settled.

  The number one thing on that list did not make my job any easier. Sonny hovered over
us whenever I tried to talk to her about it, which made my skin crawl and backed me out of conversations more times than not.

  I hated that he insisted on taking this trip. I was still working on a way to forcefully eject him from Maya’s life. I hoped, if nothing else, she could see how little he did for her in comparison to everyone else.

  Even Diego had stepped up to the plate, to be there at her side and give her everything she might need or want. She was overjoyed to have her son back, and somehow couldn’t piece together that Sonny’s presence jeopardized that newfound relationship more than it facilitated it.

  In her mind, her family was finally pulling together. She was happier than I had ever seen her.

  How could I take that away from her in her waning days of life?

  Maybe once she remembered my dad, and all the days they had shared, she’d want more for herself than a cheating, lying, abusive asshole.

  Unfortunately for all three of us, she couldn’t see that was what Sonny Quintero was. He was a constant in her life, one of the few she could count on to be there even when things fell apart.

  All I could do was shift her focus onto those things which made Sonny’s contribution insignificant. It was delicate work, and I was truly clueless in how to do it. Unbelievably, Griffin had become my biggest weapon in this new war.

  Diego had been a fan of Griffin’s for years, so he accepted Griffin’s new role as mentor without argument. This bridged the gap between us in a way I hadn’t expected. It also showed me a whole new side to Griffin, who softened when he worked with Diego to the point he could treat me like a real person. He didn’t hide behind his phone or a long list of lovers he could call at any given time.

  He was willing to put everything aside to work with Diego.

  And Diego blossomed under this attention, opening up to the both of us as he shed his sullen persona with each new passing moment we spent together.

  I could only hope that Diego would open up as much to Jace. That would make the next step, relocating Maya and Diego to Los Angeles, that much easier.

  I said as much to Griffin, who agreed immediately that I needed to get them out of Las Vegas. “They need you, Jordi,” he had said only the night before.

  “I need them, too,” I confessed softly. He took my hand in his and we said nothing more.

  It was an odd relationship that was further complicated by the constant speculation from PING. The longer I stayed in Vegas with Griffin, the more the fans revolted on social media. Both Jace and Griffin advised that I not address the rumors. “Let them think whatever they want,” Griffin had said. “If it protects your family, it’s worth it.”

  But by the time we landed in New York, PING had already pieced together my connection with Diego. Unfortunately for all of us, they had horribly misconstrued it to fit their own anti-Jordi agenda.

  DIVA SPLITTING TIME WITH PLAYBOY AND BOY TOY?

  “Lock up your teen sons, folks! The notorious man-eater, Jordi Hemphill, is once again on the prowl, apparently having bored of her playboy part-time lover, Griffin Slade. Sources close to Hemphill and Slade have confided that a Vegas teen musician named Diego Palermo has joined the lusty duo for a special New York performance of their new song for The Journey Home. Palermo, the guitar prodigy for the Vegas band Catastrophe Rising, apparently caught the diva’s eye a few months ago, when she was spotted leaving a performance. Recent reports say that Palermo is staying with Hemphill in her VIP suite. Is she grooming husband #2?”

  “Jesus Christ!” I exclaimed as I nearly threw my phone across the tarmac. “Can’t they find someone else to torment?”

  “They will,” Griffin assured me as he led us toward the terminal. “That’s really the only good thing you can say about gossipmongers. They have a short attention span.”

  “It’s been two years,” I snapped. “I’m starting to think I could cure cancer and they’d tear me apart for putting doctors out of business.”

  He laughed. “Welcome to the club, love,” he said as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. We escaped into a private limo and sped toward our five-star hotel.

  By the time we got checked into our room, the whole Internet was abuzz with this new titillating gossip. This wasn’t just a lascivious scandal anymore. A prominent lawyer in Las Angeles weighed in on the matter, saying that I could face criminal charges should the accusations prove true. And of course she cited a long list of celebrities and musicians who had these same kinds of charges brought against them in the past, proving, I guess, that since it had happened before, it was entirely possible that it would happen again.

  Of course Coy had chimed in shortly after that. He appeared on a conservative news channel to talk about the hedonistic influence of Hollywood, once again using me as the poster child of excess, perversion and self-destructive choices.

  Eddie, ever joined at the hip with his wannabe father-in-law these days, was sitting to his right, offering his two cents on how the high life corrupts those who might have more traditional, wholesome values.

  “I know from experience how tempting that life can be,” he told the host of the show. “And Jordi knows how to wield that influence. She offers to pay for whatever you need so that she can engender herself to you, making you indebted to her many demands. She sets you up with a home and a car and with all the trappings money can buy, and when the day comes you can no longer submit to her will she casts you out onto the street. That’s what happens to everyone eventually. She learned that lesson from her mentor, Vanni Carnevale, who did the same thing with every single person who littered his past.”

  He mentioned Kat Daley, Vanni’s ex-backup dancer and most famous ex next to Lourdes Carrington. After Kat and Vanni had broken up, she capitalized on some of her notoriety as an adult film star, but had recently found God. She had gained quite a following via her weekly webcast, where she was now ministering to other “lost souls” who felt they had to trade their bodies for fame.

  She had no love for Andy, Vanni’s new wife and the mother of his child. She maintains that Andy and Vanni were secretly having an affair while he romanced her for the cameras to protect his image. Those who had been disenfranchised from the Dreaming in Blue fandom after his marriage latched onto her new message, but it appeared to be a fringe movement.

  Now my “drama” was giving it a new platform. I sent a message to Vanni to let him know I was sorry for once again dragging him and Andy through the mud. He texted back that if I apologized one more time for one more thing that I didn’t do, he would personally fly to New York and give me a spanking himself.

  I smiled as I pocketed the phone. Until I found Diego, Vanni had been the closest thing to a brother I had ever had.

  He was also usually right on the money in his advice. PING was an unfortunate byproduct to the lives we all lived. It sucked that they could shade us with whatever colors they wanted and people the world over would believe them, but I guess Jace was right. People clung to the things that validated what they already wanted to believe.

  These were not my fans, and likely they never would be. They wanted to see someone face-plant, they didn’t care who.

  I closed the computer and went to check in on Diego and Maya.

  She was sleeping in her private room, with the nurse just outside if she needed anything. Diego was nowhere to be found, which worried me now that we were in a brand new city – not to mention one of the biggest cities in the world.

  I didn’t think twice before I headed to Griffin’s room. He was shirtless when he opened the door, which took me by surprise. “Am I disturbing you?”

  He shook his head. “I just got out of the shower. If you’re looking for Diego, he’s in the guest room.” He shut the door behind me. “He’s being attacked online but a bunch of Jace’s rabid fans. It’s been pretty ugly.”

  My stomach dropped. That was the last thing I needed to hear. I knocked on Diego’s door. “Diego? It’s Jordi.”

  “Go away!” he muttered from the other side
.

  I collapsed on the sofa in the sitting area of Griffin’s suite. “I can’t catch a break,” I said as I fell back with my hand over my eyes. “This is going to ruin everything.”

  Griffin sat down next to me. “It doesn’t have to,” he said as he rubbed my shoulder with one hand.

  I peered at him through my fingers. “Are you kidding? Did you read what they are saying about me? About us?” I sat forward. “They’re going to ruin the performance. Everything you’ve done and Angus has done to make this song great and this movie important and beautiful… they’re just going to shit all over it.”

  “Yeah,” Griffin agreed easily. “That’s what they want to happen.”

  “Aren’t you mad?” I asked.

  He chuckled. “I don’t get mad anymore. I just turn the tables on them. Let them think what they want so I can live somewhat of a private life they could never expect.”

  My brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his photos. He offered the device to me, and I could see a towheaded little boy with a smile as bright as sunshine staring back at me. “Meet Oscar,” he said. “My son.”

  “You have a son?” I squeaked as he thumbed through photo after photo. “I don’t understand.”

  He kept sliding through each photo. “About seven years ago I met someone unlike anyone I’d ever met before.” He landed on a photo of a woman with dark eyes and dark hair, and a generous figure that made us very unlikely and unexpected twins. “We were friends. And then one night we were more. I never even knew about Oscar until a couple of years ago, when she was in an accident. Died instantly,” he said sadly. “Oscar had a good, solid life with his grandparents, her folks. They felt it was only right I knew about my son, but they agreed with their daughter that they didn’t want his life tossed upside down just because he had a famous dad. So no one knows. Just them. And me. And now you.”

  I blinked in confusion. “So all the women…?”