Page 112 of Heartbreaker

It was booked months ago, and it’s a pretty big deal.

Normally, I love performing, but it feels impossible to get out there and put on a show with the way I’m feeling.

“Yeah, I guess.” I get up and walk into my bedroom, staring at my suitcase. I didn’t bring performance clothes with me, because I had no plans to be on stage.

“I have a top you can borrow,” Lily says, standing in the doorway. “The jeans are fine and I know you have boots in there.”

I manage a smile. “Yes, of course I do.”

“Everything’s going to be okay,” she says, coming over and sitting on the edge of the bed. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but he has no idea what he’s lost. If he treated you this way, you deserve so much better.”

“I know all of that intellectually,” I mutter, “but my heart doesn’t seem to be getting it.”

“I met him, you know,” she says thoughtfully.

I whirl to face her. “You did? When? Where? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Honestly, I forgot about it. I think it was right before his accident. He performed at the Grammy’s…and we wound up at the same after-party. He was there with that she-witch he used to be married to. He was larger than life, but also nice. It’s hard to explain. Someone introduced us, and while some of the people I met that night were distant, stuck up, kind of aloof, Royal actually looked at me, said hello, paid attention. It was like, thirty seconds, tops, but I didn’t get the vibe that he felt put upon to have to talk to me. And I remember thinking there was more to him than just a spoiled rock star.”

“That’s just it,” I say sadly. “He’s agreatguy. Amazing even. Underneath the bluster and grumpy demeanor is a kind, caring man. He loves his goddaughter to pieces. He’s fiercely loyal to his friends and family. He’s protective but not overbearing…he ticks all the darn boxes.” I take a breath. “Ticked. Past tense. Because the way he spoke to me the last time we saw each other is definitely not one of my boxes.”

“Did it ever occur to you that he was just lashing out? Like, he literally had no one else to take it out on, and you were just…there?”

“Unacceptable,” I say, lifting my chin. “I can’t be with a man who thinks he’s so much better than me. And, what? He’s going to insult me every time we have a fight?”

“Oh, I totally agree with you. I’m just pointing out that it might have simply been a reaction to everything going on. The sex tape, the media coverage, and then finding out he’s been replaced in his own band. Not to mention the ex-cunt.”

I almost manage another smile. “You’re probably right but that doesn’t make it any better. We were supposed to be a team, partners, and he turned on me.” That’s the part that hurts the most. “Look, I don’t want to talk about Royal anymore. Find me that top while I put on some makeup.”

“You got it.”

She leaves the room, and I walk into the bathroom, stare into the mirror.

It feels like I’ve aged twenty years the last few days. There are dark circles under my eyes because I’m not sleeping, and I’ve probably lost five or six pounds because I have zero interest in food.

It’s kind of pathetic but I know it’s a process. I have to grieve the relationship before I can move on, and that’s going to take a while.

Because I love the fucking jerk.

I hear Grandma’s voice in my head, reprimanding me for being unladylike, but I can’t bring myself to care. Not today, anyway.

I’ve used the word fuck more in the last week than my entire life, and for some reason it feels good. It soothes me in a way nothing else can, and while I don’t quite understand it, I’ll take whatever relief I can get. Even if it means cursing a blue streak.

I honestly don’t want to perform tonight, but Lily is right that it’ll be a good way to get ready for the show on Saturday night. I won’t get to Nashville until late tomorrow, my band and I will rehearse on Friday, and the show is Saturday. Normally, we would have been rehearsing all week, but the media would find me and I needed time to decompress.

My head is pounding, so I down a couple of aspirin and then dig out my makeup. I truly have no interest in getting dolled up, but it’s probably the smart thing to do, so I pull out my concealer and get to work on those dark circles.

My phone buzzes on the counter and I see a text from Briar.

BRIAR: Where are you? Do you want to get together? Aspen and I were thinking dinner and a movie?

JADE: Actually, I’m in Vegas and I leave for Nashville in the morning. The show at the Opry is Saturday and I need a day to rehearse.

BRIAR: How are you doing? Do you need me to fly to Nashville?

JADE: You’re sweet to offer, but I’ll be okay. I’m lying low with my friend Lily—do not tell anyone!—and then I’m focused on getting through Saturday.

BRIAR: If you change your mind, I can be on the first flight.

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