Page 80 of Cherry Beats

Presley was already leaving, and he was taking me with him, completely unaware of the way little Tilly looked at him in awe while the famous actress looked at him like she wanted to eat him alive.

“I’m a big fan!” I found myself calling out to Harriet like the absolute fucking idiot I was. I flashed her an enthusiastic wave with my free hand before I turned back to Presley and squealed in his ear. “Did you see that? That was…”

He glanced down at me, his face unmoving. “I know.”

“She’s incredible.”

“Relax, Cherry.”

“Noway. Did you ever see her in the role of Megan Maloney in the film Silver on Black? The way she played the role of the single mum in an abusive relationship in 1950s America, only to be saved when she fell in love with the local paperboy ten years her junior was something I will never, ever forget. That film wrecked me, Presley. It was a love like no other love I’d ever seen. She made something so tragic and taboo seem like something so beautiful and pure, and…” I gasped. “Holy shit! I just met Harriet Cole.”

“She was okay, I suppose.”

“Are you insane? How are you not freaking out right now?”

“Should I be?” He led me down a corridor, pushing through two fairly heavy doors while I just stared at him, dumbfounded.

“Yes, you absolutely should be. Show some respect. She’s a genius.”

“She’s an actress. That doesn’t make her a genius. It makes her a good performer. An artist.”

“And artists can’t be geniuses?”

“Sure.” He shrugged, leading me to a final exit where he pushed down on a silver bar, which opened up the door and brought us to a line of waiting black cars. Presley looked at me, his shoulders sagging. “But those people are only fucking humans, too. Same blood in their veins as us. Same shit going on in their head. Same breath in their lungs. She did her job, and she did it well. Doesn’t make her any better than you.”

I blinked up at him, pushing a strand of hair out of my eye as it blew across my face. “How can you be so casual about all this?”

“Seen one actress, seen ‘em all.”

He didn’t have to say the words out loud to me—there was just something about the way he was reacting that made the little pieces of a puzzle fall together in my mind.

“Wait…” I pulled back.

He side-eyed me, his jaw ticking.

“Did you…?” My free hand slapped my mouth, pushing the cry back in and allowing me to swallow it down. My eyes were wide, popping with surprise.

Presley rubbed his lips together, and he turned away from me, tugging on the hand that was still entwined with his. I tugged back and forced him to look at me.

Letting the hand over my mouth slide down, I rested it on my chest and whispered my next question so only he could hear me. “Did you sleep with her?”

“Cherry…”

“Did you sleep with Harriet? Is that why she looked at you like that? Is that how you knew her daughter’s name? Is that…? Oh, God.” I couldn’t finish. I felt sick.

Presley turned to face me, cupping my neck with his free hand. “Let’s not do this. Not today. For twenty-four shitty little hours that will never be enough, let’s both of us pretend that it’s just you and me without the world watching on. That’s all I want.”

“Please,” I whispered. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I don’t? Because it seems like you don’t need much of a reason to run out of that door.”

The pleading in my eyes said everything I had to say in response. It may not have made sense to him, but I wanted to know—needed to know.

“Fine. I slept with her,” he eventually said.

My stomach turned, bile rising in my chest to burn at my throat, leaving me speechless.

“I slept with a lot of them. There’ll be more to come. It’s been a crazy fucking few years, okay? The guy I am when I’m with you is the guy I want to be. Unfortunately, that’s not the guy who’s been riding in a tour bus, taking off in private jets, or kicking it with people who like to snort cocaine for breakfast. I can’t take any of it back, but I’m standing here right now hoping you’re not going to ask me to. I wouldn’t want to take it back. This is life, Cherry. I’ve been living. This is part of the journey. You do shit, it doesn’t always work out, so you wake up the next day and you try something else. You make new moves. You meet new people. You don’t sit and wallow in what’s been and gone and everything you’ve done wrong. You just wake the fuck up, and you see where the day takes you again, hoping it eventually leads to something you’ve actually wanted all along…”

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