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Much like the way Zach had handled Leah.
There was too much suck all around.
He sent two final texts—one each to Faith and Mina—then turned the phone off, tossing it into the drawer in his bedside table for good measure.
So. Plan for the next few days. Play guitar. Write music. Hang out with Eli. Stay out of sight.
Figure shit out.
Easier said than done maybe but there was no time like the present to at least give it a shot.
But no sooner had he gone back downstairs to grab his guitar than the house phone started ringing. He stared at it warily. Faith calling to check on him? Or had some scum-sucking paparazzi somehow managed to get the number? He was tempted to ignore it but if it was Faith, she’d just come on over to check on him. Easier to have the conversation. He could hang up if it was anybody he didn’t know.
“Hello?” he growled, lifting the phone.
“Zach?” Lou’s voice sounded a little surprised.
He felt his shoulders relax. “Oh. Hey, Lou.”
“Honey, I just saw the news. Are you okay?”
The concern in her voice made him smile. Lou, at least, would always be the one person guaranteed to stand by him. He’d known that since the first time she’d met him when Grey had brought her home to Lansing. He’d still been pretty young but he remembered the feel of her arms and the sense of safety. She’d never left any of them since that day.
“I’m fine,” he said gently. “But thank you for calling.”
“Of course I’m calling,” she said, sounding indignant. He could picture her face, all bright blue eyes and cropped silver hair. “You just keep your head down and ignore the press. They’ll lose interest.”
“That’s my plan.”
“Good. Can I bring you anything?”
He hesitated. Part of him didn’t want her to go to any trouble, but there was a bigger part of him that knew that one of Lou’s pies would help his mood right now. Along with some of her common sense. He’d seen her at Faith’s for dinner the night he’d arrived but she hadn’t pushed to find out more about his plans since then. “How about you bring me a hug?” He knew the hug would come with baked goods. Added bonus but if he had to choose between pie and a hug from the tiny whirlwind that was his stepmom, he’d pick the hug.
“I’ll be right there,” Lou said.
Two days later he was leaving the studio in a mood—turned out the good effects of Lou’s hugs and pie didn’t last forever-—after wrestling with a song that just wouldn’t play ball for four solid hours, when he met Faith coming the other way along the path.
“Oh good, you’re alive,” she said.
“Yep.”
She eyed him up and down. “Or maybe you’re the start of the zombie apocalypse. You need a shave.”
“It’s my designer stubble,” he said, scratching a hand over his chin. He’d never liked designer stubble. It itched. He usually shaved daily.
“Nope. Designer stubble looks cool.” She squinted at him. “You look like Shaggy from Scooby Doo. On a bender.”
He looked down at his clothes. Ancient tattered board shorts and a scruffy T-shirt that had several holes in it. He’d shoved his feet into flip-flops, intending to head down to the beach and work off some frustration on some waves. Okay, so maybe Faith had a point.
“I’m going surfing.”
“Well, that’s better than stewing in the studio, I guess,” Faith said. “I was beginning to think you were never going to emerge.” She pulled a folded stack of papers out of her back pocket. “I was bringing you these messages. Every man and his dog has been calling for you at Harper Inc. Including Jay. What happened to your phone?”
“I turned it off,” he said. “Seemed like the sensible thing to do while Ryder is the media sensation of the moment.”
“No, the sensible thing to do is switch to a phone that only a few people know about,” Faith said.
“Two phones is a hassle.” Grey had always had two. Or more, as he’d constantly lost them.
