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I didn’t even get to talk to him last night before I went to sleep.
I press the button to call him and frown when it goes to voicemail after four rings. It’s eleven at night. Where could he be?
“Hey, Tuck. It’s me. Give me a call when you get my message.”
I change out of my costume but don’t bother to take off the makeup. I’ll do that at the hotel. Right now, I just want to go back to the room, get a bite to eat, and finally talk with Tucker.
I’m flanked by huge security guards as I’m led out of the building to a limo waiting by the stage door, and less than thirty minutes later, I’m in the presidential suite of the Waldorf.
I strip down and clean my face, brush out my teased hair, and then take a long, hot shower, scrubbing myself clean from head to toe.
Once I’m wrapped in a thick robe, I sit on the sofa and call Tucker again.
“Hey,” he says. “Sorry, I was talking with Chloe when you called. She’s worried about tomorrow, but I talked her down.”
“What is she worried about?”
“Everything,” he says with a chuckle. “What if people don’t come? What if you don’t come?”
Sucker-punch to the gut.
“What if someone drowns?”
“Well, that escalated quickly.”
“Hey, I’m just the messenger. How are you? How was your show?”
“The show was amazing. It felt really good.”
“I’m glad. I’m sure you were fantastic.”
“Thanks.” I clear my throat. “Uh, Tuck, I have some bad news.”
“Don’t say it.” His voice is soft. “Do not tell me you can’t come tomorrow.”
“I’m so sorry. They booked a second show on me without consulting me. The tickets are sold, it’s scheduled, and roughly forty-thousand people are going to show up at Madison Square Garden tomorrow night.”
“A little girl is going to show up to her birthday party, one that you planned, and she’ll be crushed that you aren’t there.”
“I know.” A tear drops down my cheek. “I’m so sorry, Tuck. I was as blindsided as you are, and I fired Susan.”
“You fired her?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. Yes, I fired her. She fucked with my family, and that won’t fly with me. Ever. God, I’m so sorry. I feel awful, and I don’t know how to make this up to you both.”
“Hey, shit happens, right?”
“No. This isn’t supposed to happen.”
He’s quiet, but I can hear him breathing on the other end of the line.
“I’m really sorry,” I whisper again.
“I know,” he says. But he doesn’t say it’s okay. Because I know it’s not okay. I’m as disappointed as he is.
“What can I do?”
“I don’t know. I have to tell her. She’s going to be crushed.”
“But she’ll be excited once she gets to the party,” I say, trying to put a positive spin on it. “And she’s getting a puppy. Trust me, as soon as she sees that, she’ll be saying, ‘Scarlett who?’”
“You’re probably right. I have to pick her up tomorrow afternoon. Your dad’s going to hide her over at his house, and I guess I’ll have Dean pick both Rick and the pup up for the party now.”
“Tell Dean I appreciate it.”
“I will. Shit, this sucks. I was excited to get my hands on you tomorrow.”
“Trust me, I was ready for you to have your hands on me. It’s been a long thirty-six-ish hours. How was your day today, anyway?”
“Not fantastic. I had to answer a domestic violence call, and by the time I got there, the asshole had killed his wife and himself. It was pretty shitty.”
“Oh, God, Tuck. I’m so sorry.”
I should be there with him, holding him, letting him vent about the horrible things he saw at work, rather than telling him over the phone that I wouldn’t be home tomorrow.
This is not at all how I pictured tonight going.
“Did you know them?” I ask.
“Not well,” he admits. “I’ve been to their house before on similar calls. The guy was a douche. But I couldn’t save her, and that weighs on me. You know?”
“Of course, it does. Did they have kids?”
“Thank God, they didn’t,” he says with a deep sigh. “Listen, babe, I’m going to take a shower and go to bed. I’m exhausted, and it looks like tomorrow’s going to be a busy one.”
“Okay. I love you.”
“Love you, too. Have a good show tomorrow night.”
And with that, he’s gone, and I’m sitting under a mountain of guilt and anger.
19
~ Tucker ~
“She’s not coming, is she?”
“I’m sorry, Chlo.” I wrap my arm around her shoulders. Chloe doesn’t let me hug her often, so when she doesn’t immediately pull away, I tighten my grip and relish the moment.
“It’s okay.” Chloe shrugs and looks at me. “I understand. It’s her job.”
Damn. I wish I were that nonchalant about it. I’m still pissed. It sounds unreasonable for me to be mad at Scarlett, even to my own ears, but I am. I want her here with us, and a small part of me can’t help but wonder if this is how it’s always going to be. Missed birthdays, holidays, school programs, and dinners. Will Chloe and I forever come second to Scarlett’s career? And what happens if we have our own kid someday? I’m not sure if I can raise another baby on my own.
