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It’s not until fifteen minutes later, when I’ve almost reached Bethesda Terrace and I’m waiting by the fountain for Piper, that a realization strikes me, almost making me stumble.
How did he know my name?
* * *
“Come on. Tell me everything.” Piper loops her arm in mine and drags me over to the edge of the fountain and sits, patting the hard concrete next to her.
I can’t tell hereverything. I’m definitely not mentioning how I ran face first into a guitar.
Maybe it’s the head wound speaking, but I unleash a small measure of my frustration.
“I can’t find a job.” The gurgle and rush of the water behind us forces my voice higher than I would like. I take a sip of the latte Piper brought me and stare straight ahead. “I’ve applied everywhere. I’ve run out of options. I’ve ruined my own life. The whole world knows I slept with Blake Bonham. I might as well sew a giant A onto all my clothes.”
Piper rests her shoulder against mine, a slight and comforting warmth. “They don’t know the whole story. They don’t know how he led you on and lied to you. You did the right thing. You told the truth.” She shakes her head and blows out her breath, a small crease forming between her brows. “You told the truth to protect me. It’s more my fault than yours.”
Initially, the press dropped a story that Blake was having an affair with Piper. I had to come clean to protect her, and I was immediately put on administrative leave while they investigated and evaluated my situation at the label.
Of course I had to come clean. Piper has gone through enough. When she first came to stay with me last spring, she was a tired, thin wisp of herself.
Now she looks healthy, happy, and vibrant, even with her hair pulled back in a messy bun and wearing old, faded jeans and a deep blue hoodie.
I frown at her. “It’s not your fault, either. Let’s blame Ben.”
She grins and takes a sip out of the disposable coffee cup in her hand. “Perfect.”
Ben is Piper’s ex. He was a super psycho who’s now doing hard time for stalking, attempted murder, and defamation, to name a few amid the litany of charges thrown at him.
I can’t blame Ben for all of my problems, though, as satisfying as that would be. I chose to give in to Blake’s advances. I can only blame myself and the loneliness that I let fester into desperation. I’d had short-lived relationships in college, and since graduating—almost ten years ago now—I’d eschewed all romantic entanglements in favor of focusing on my career except for periodic flings when I needed to blow off some steam. There was no time for a real relationship. I was too busy kicking ass in the music industry. And I was happy, with work, anyway. Rebel Records raked in millions from my efforts. I’ve signed dozens of acts and watched them all succeed. I’ve plucked future Grammy winners from the bowels of obscurity, for fuck’s sake.
And then I fell in love and my whole life fell apart.
He made me believe I could have it all, and then it blew up in my face.
Never again.
Piper tilts her head, considering me. “You know, not all men are like Blake.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Of course not. Some of them are eccentric billionaires that are completely obsessed with their girlfriends.”
She grins, covering the motion with her coffee cup. “They sure are,” she says with relish before taking a small sip.
A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. If anyone deserves happiness, it’s Piper. Especially after the nightmare she went through with her ex. At first, I had my doubts about Oliver. He is kind of a prick. But there is no doubt in my mind that he would move the sun and Earth for her. It’s the only reason I put up with him—because Piper deserves someone who treats her like a queen, and he treats her like a goddess.
I smack Piper on the knee. “Come on. I need to walk. It’s too cold to sit here. Let’s go toward the Mall.”
She nods and we head in that direction.
“I love Central Park in fall.” Piper tilts her head back, taking in the giant elm trees on either side of us, creating a lush golden canopy that blocks out the overcast sky.
“It’s beautiful,” I agree. “Did you finish your piece for the gallery?”
“Almost. I have another month to get it completed. It was a little more challenging than I thought it would be, but I can’t wait for you to see it.” Piper is a metalwork artist. She does commissioned and original work using metal and copper and bronze and the like. She’s been creating pieces for a gallery in SoHo owned by Oliver.
“Did Finley call you about Jake?” she asks.
I nod. “Yes. I talked to her this morning.”
We commiserate on the topic for a minute.
