Page 186 of Haunt Me

The Christmas break is looming over me like this huge dark void that will swallow me whole, but at least, between the tour and recording my new album, I have very little time to think about it. Skye and my publicist want to set up a meeting with the label about releasing the new album in the beginning of the new year. February, at the latest.

They want to ‘strike while the iron is hot’, whatever that means.

“The iron has been hot for years,” Jude tells Skye cheekily, “as far as Isaiah is concerned. I don’t think it’s going to cool down anytime soon.”

Skye agrees, and yet. These people are pushing him, I know. I am, after all, nothing more than a product to them, aren’t I? A fist clenches around my heart, tighter and tighter.

On the first day of December, I have trouble getting out of bed in the morning. As if to save me, my phone rings. I answer without looking at the number, which I wouldn’t normally do. But today, I am sinking into my private pit of despair—to put it mildly—and nothing matters to me.

“Hello, Isaiah.”

I sit up. It’s Eden’s dad.

“I know you probably have better things to do than to come to Chicago during the holidays,” he says, talking fast, the way people do when they are scared of wasting my time. Of course, where Walter is concerned, nothing could be further from the truth. “But I would like to invite you to my home for Christmas, if you don’t have—”

“I’d be honored, sir,” I interrupt him.

He chuckles. “Faith said you would say yes right away. That girl is underrated, as you young folks say. And my name is Walter, not ‘sir’.”

“Yes, sir,” I say stupidly.

He sighs. “Once more, my Faith was right.”

She probably told him I’m an idiot. She is, indeed, right.

“A little heads up, son,” Walter says. He always calls me that, and always my throat clogs up. I haven’t been called ‘son’ in years. I haven’t heard that word from my dad or my grandpa in so long, it’s almost unbearable. I love it. “We are inviting all of Hollywood’s elite to this house. Apparently, Eden has two girlfriends: one is your little singer friend,” he means Lou, “and the other is dating the biggest actor on the planet. Do you know who I’m taking about?”

“I think it’s Ariadne Demos,” I say. Of course it’s Ari. Which means Wes will be there.

I smile so widely my cheeks hurt. It looks like they have invited everyone apart from Asteria’s new queen to their house. Well, one can only hope they haven’t.

“That’s the one,” Walter agrees. “Manuela gave me very strict lessons about everyone’s names, but I have forgotten them already, I’m afraid. Don’t tell her—that girl scares me.”

“Me too,” I almost add ‘sir’, but change it to ‘Walter’ at the last minute. “I know who they are, yes. Is Weston Spencer coming too?”

“Is that Mr. Darcy you’re talking about?” Walter asks and I groan inwardly. The man is an English Lit professor; of course he’d knowthisabout Wes.Freaking Wes.

“The very same,” I reply.

“Then yes. And that billionaire boy with the sad eyes who keeps getting photographed with his underwear.”

“Theo?” I ask, nearly falling off my chair. “Theodore Vanderau is coming to your house for Christmas?”

I can’t believe this. The dude never answers his phone, never mind accepting social invitations to house parties. Where there will bepeople. It’s unheard of.

“He is, God help us all,” Walter replies, sounding freaked out, but not as freaked out as I am, I bet. He doesn’t know any better. “He is one of Eden’s closest friends, as far as I can tell. I met him in New York a few years ago. He kept looking at my girl as if she were a lifebuoy. I just wanted to hug him.”

“If anyone needs saving, it’s him,” I say. “I’m glad he’ll be there. If he ends up coming, after all.” Theo has a reputation for saying yes to things and then dipping or pulling a no-show.

Walter is silent for a beat on the other end of the line. Finally, he just says:

“Don’t we all need saving?”

And I’m robbed of speech.

…

I have not written any Christmas songs, and I’ve said to Jude I never will. Now I understand why.

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