“That’s not an answer.”
“As long as nothing comes up for the tour.”
She let out a breath. “Don’t do this, Pike. Don’t punish them because we’ve fucked this up. They’ll be crushed if you’re not there. They need you there.”
“No. They need their parents. They need the people who love them. They don’t need me.”
No one did. It’s how he’d set up his life since he’d walked out of his house. If no one needs you, there’s no chance you’ll let them down.
“Pike.”
“I’ve gotta go.”
He hung up the phone before she could protest again. He couldn’t stand to hear that disappointment in her voice, the resignation—like she’d hoped for better but wasn’t surprised. Yes, Oakley, I’m doing just what you thought I always would. I’m being the asshole.
That’s what he was good at.
He leaned over to grab his laptop off the coffee table and opened up a travel site. He’d been in this place before and he knew exactly how to handle it.
THIRTY-TWO
three weeks later …
Oakley stood near the wall in the auditorium, close enough to the stage to intervene if necessary but far enough back that the kids wouldn’t think she was hovering. The room was full, parents and other family members chatting at a low-roar level before everything started, but she was way too tense to socialize.
Reagan had been a nervous wreck backstage, reverting to an old hand-flapping habit she hadn’t had since she was six. She’d looked like a high-strung bird, flitting around the small hallway. Oakley had managed to calm her after a talk and some deep breathing exercises. But she was still afraid Rae would freak out before she made it to the stage. Or worse—freak out on stage.
Oakley chewed her thumbnail. Maybe it had been a mistake to let Rae take on this big of a role. It was too much pressure for her, too many people to be in front of. Maybe she should just go backstage and get her. They had an understudy who could take over the leads if necessary for tonight.
Tessa waved at her from her spot in the second row, a big grin on her face. Oakley lifted a hand and forced a smile. Tessa had pulled her aside during rehearsals today and had told her how amazed she was at how everything had turned out. In its first week on iTunes, “Blue Skies” was already gaining momentum and making money for the kids’ college funds, thanks to a spot Gibson had booked them on Good Morning Texas using his PR contacts. Now there was talk of the story getting picked up nationally.
Tessa had given Oakley the promotion right there on the spot. Full-time project coordinator—double the salary she’d been making as a receptionist, along with extra benefits. It was so much more than she could’ve ever hoped for. She wouldn’t have to take another night call. No more faking it. No more getting called derogatory names. No more hiding. She could spend her free time on her songwriting.
But she’d barely been able to get excited about it. She hadn’t seen Pike since the night he’d proposed. He hadn’t shown up at any of the recording sessions, and Braxton had finally told her that Pike had flown to L.A. to take care of preliminary tour stuff. She’d known that night on the phone that she might never see him again. She’d heard the distance in his voice, felt the wall go up, the door slam shut. She’d known it would hurt. But she hadn’t anticipated just how much. That absence had left a big fucking hole in her chest and had taken the shine off everything that would’ve normally made her happy.
She laced her hands behind her neck and closed her eyes, trying to release the tension she couldn’t seem to shake. A hand touched her elbow and she jumped.
For one hopeful moment, she thought it was him. That he’d changed his mind, that he’d be here for the kids. That she’d open her eyes and he’d be here. But when she lifted her lids, there was no cocky smirk or chameleon eyes. A familiar face, but not the one she needed.
Gibson sent her an apologetic smile, as if he knew what she’d been thinking. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”
She blew out a breath. “Not your fault. A breeze could make me jump right now.”
“They’re going to be great. If they can do TV, they can do this.”
“Thanks again for getting them on that show. The sales jumped immediately.”
He shrugged. “It’s the least I could do. And they’re an easy sell. It’s a great feel-good story. Plus, the songs are actually good.”
She smiled. “The kids have worked really hard.”
“You and Pike have worked really hard, too.”
She looked away. “Yeah.”
Gibson tucked his hands in his slacks, following her gaze toward the stage. “He told me what happened, that he proposed to you. Well—told is a strong word. I basically got him drunk and plied it out of him before he left for L.A., and I said I wouldn’t watch Monty while he was gone unless he told me what had crawled up his ass.”
She rubbed her lips together and nodded.