CHAPTER EIGHT
CARLY

“Why do I have a weird feeling about this?” I whisper into Ainsley’s ear as we take the last step leading to London and Griffin’s door.

“Um… maybe because the security guard at the front was giving us the third degree over why we’re here.”

That could be it. “Remind me to give London a hard time for not putting our names on the approved guest list.”

“You got it,” she laughs as she pushes the button setting off a chime that sounds more like it belongs on a church instead of a house.

“Come on in,” Nash’s booming voice echoes from just inside as he opens the door for us. I don’t miss the obvious way his smile spreads when he sees who’s with me. “Ainsley. Carly,” he greets us, ducking his head and ushering us in with all the charm of a true gentleman. If only his brother had half of that— “We’re just getting here too,” he admits.

“Dude,” Travis belts out with sheer annoyance in his voice. “You’re a man-child.”

I snicker, stepping just inside the foyer still blocked by the set of extremely broad shoulders in front of us. “He must be talking to Adair.”

Nash nods. “I’m guessing so,” he says, stepping to the side so Ainsley and I can pass. Just as I suspected, Travis is standing at the end of an adorable little shoe-train lined up against the wall just inside the entry way; and he’s bickering with Adair.

“I’m not doing it,” Adair hisses under his breath, still oblivious to the fact that we’re standing behind them.

“Be the rebel all you want,” Travis says with a lighthearted sneer on his face. “London is going to throw you out on your butt when she sees the tracks your boots leave on her white carpet.”

“I think my socks have holes in them, man.” He tries to hold Travis in place to keep him from kicking his shoes off and adding them to the lineup currently made up of a pair of pink flats, a pair of running shoes and a smaller matching pair right beside them. “Just leave yours on too, all right? I don’t want to look like a weirdo when they get here.”

“They?” Travis asks. “Oh! You mean Carly.”

Nash lets out a booming guffaw from behind us. “There’s absolutely no hope left of that.”

Ainsley can’t hide her laughter as we add our shoes to the mix. Her soft giggle finally gets their attention causing Adair to let out a low groan through gritted teeth. “Fine,” he grumbles. “I’ll just add mine to the perfect little non-holey-sock family shoe-train too.” He kicks off his black leather boots leaving him wearing a pair of socks that probably used to be white at some point and his big toe popping out of the end.

“Suit yourself,” Travis says, lifting his nose in the air. “Something smells good…” He turns around and looks Adair up and down. “It sure isn’t this guy’s feet. Gross, man.”

Nash wiggles his way past in the narrow foyer to the front of the line. “I’m following my nose out of here. You all are on your own.” He and Travis shoulder check each other the entire way to the kitchen, trying to see who can make it there first. London’s face pops around the corner. “In here, guys.” She disappears behind the wall as quickly as she had appeared.

I do a double take to make sure I’m not seeing things as Travis snags a Kiss the Cook apron, which had been draped across the kitchen island. “Okay, Lon,” he says, “What are you teaching me tonight?”

“I don’t even know where to start with you anymore,” she laughs, handing him a handful of vegetables. “Chop these up. If you still have all your fingers when we’re done, then we can move on to something more difficult.”

“You’re trusting him with a knife?” Nash squeaks, placing his hand over his chest in shock. “I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”

Travis cuts a glare at him. “I’m not that bad.” He grabs an onion from the top of the stack and starts peeling it. “She’s been giving me lessons.”

“Why?” I can’t help myself. “I need answers,” I admit, sliding into the half circle breakfast booth. The large bay window lets in enough light I have to squint to keep the glare out of my eyes. Adair notices and tilts the wooden shutters up. “Thanks,” I say keeping my eyes focused on the overgrown child with a knife on the other side of the kitchen.

Those little moments are exactly why my heart isn’t safe with him.

One second, he’ll be an incredibly thoughtful person who makes me fall fast and hard, and then the next he turns into a walking void of human emotion.

I can’t keep hoping for something I’ll never have with him.

“Are you crying?” Adair calls out, while being completely oblivious to the storm of emotions he just unleashed inside of me.

Travis wipes his nose on his sleeve. “Uh-uh.”

Ainsley goes in for a closer look. “Yup, those are definitely tears,” she says, as she leans across the island zeroing in on him.

He grunts and tosses the onion peel in the garbage. “Everyone cries when they cut onions. It’s a thing.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Travis.” I can’t just let it go.

“Right,” he mumbles.

Adair leans over the island with his face right up against Travis. “Is this distracting?”

“Nope.”

“Are you sure?” He scooches a little closer, so close his nose actually bumps Travis on the cheek. “You’re working with a pretty sharp blade there. Are you sure this isn’t bothering you?”

Travis groans. “What do you want?”

“The lady asked you a question,” Adair answers without budging even a single inch.

“Fine,” he lets out a sigh as he uses the knife to slide a mix of chopped vegetables into the skillet on London’s stove. She takes over adding seasonings to it, filling the air with their aroma. My stomach growls as if on command, and in a very unladylike way. Sigh. “She’s trying to help me, so I can impress this girl,” Travis finally admits.

Nash’s eyes narrow as he sprawls across the island on the opposite side from Adair. They look like a pair of search hounds sniffing out a clue.

Silence.

“Aren’t you going to tell us?” he asks fluttering his eyelashes at him like a teenage girl.

“I’m not telling either one of you a single thing.” He keeps his head down taking the jalapeno London just handed him while trying to stifle her laughter. It’s not working too well for her.

“London…” Adair draws out her name longer than necessary.

She turns back around and tends to the stove, clearly trying to avoid eye contact.

“What isn’t he telling us?” Nash asks.

She shakes her head while stirring the food. “Sorry, boys. If he’s not telling you then I’m not telling you either.”

“Hey, Adair,” Travis pipes up. “Didn’t you have something you wanted to talk to Carly about, tonight?”

All of the color drains from Adair’s face as his gaze immediately shifts from Travis to me. “Shut. Up.” He throws a bell pepper carcass at Travis hitting him in the chest.

I can actually feel the heat rising as it spreads across my cheeks. “Maybe we could just leave me out of it,” I say, waving my hands in front of me as a sign of surrender.

“You’re not changing the subject that easily.” Adair props himself up on his elbows waiting on the gossip train to shift back to Travis who purses his lips together tucking his chin to his chest. The rhythmic clunking of the knife against the chopping board has sped up significantly in the last few seconds too. I almost feel bad for him. 

Almost.

“Slow down,” London says, resting an open palm on his arm. “I was only kidding about you losing a finger. We don’t actually want that to happen.”

Travis flashes a maniacal grin as he spins around, dumping the cutting board contents into the pan. Steam floods into the air in response as the oil hisses and pops from the stove. “Ow. Ow!” He hops around in circles holding onto his arm. “That one got me. Ow. Ow. Ow.”

London rolls her eyes and reaches into the freezer pulling out an ice pack. “Here,” she says, holding it to his arm. “Sit down over there.”

He slides into the other side of the booth, holding the ice pack in place with one hand.

“Keep that on for about twenty minutes,” she gives me a sideways smirk as she goes back toward the stove. “Can you guys keep him happy for a few minutes while I finish dinner?”

Adair shakes his head. “I can’t promise we’ll keep him happy, but we will keep an eye on him,” he chuckles flicking the same arm Travis is holding the ice pack to.

“Knock it off,” he grumbles. “This is why I don’t tell you guys anything. You always make it into a big deal.”

“Hmm,” Adair crooks his head to the side, “you kind of screwed that up this time, since the cat is already out of the bag.”

“Sorry, we’re late,” Griffin’s voice booms from the back of the house. I turn just enough to see him hauling two large bags over one shoulder and a giggling Carter on the other. “We wound up having to go to two stores to find Carter’s new controller. The first one was sold out.”

Carter giggles more as he nudges Griffin on the back of the head with his little elbow. “Don’t forget, the first store was also where they all recognized you and we couldn’t even get out of the door until that nice guy in the uniform came over and made them get back.”

London scowls as she helps Carter down from Griffin’s shoulder. “It really might be time to realize you can’t just keep going out expecting to not be recognized. There’s been too much press, especially with all the publicity you guys did for The Summer Tour.”

Nash nods in agreement. “That was kind of the final straw on the camel’s back, wasn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Griffin admits as he leans in for a kiss from London. “But I’m not willing to sacrifice a normal life for a career. After we transition onto our own label, the marketing will all change, and it’ll be easier instead of getting more difficult.”

“Are you sure about that?” Adair asks. I can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking behind the glare he’s giving to Griffin right now.

London makes a grimace but nods, apparently resigned to take up the issue later. 

“That’s actually a very good point, Adair,” Griffin says, turning his attention to me. “Carly, I wanted to talk to you tonight anyway. Now’s as good a time as any, right?”

“Uh…” My eyes dart back and forth between Griffin and his brothers. “Sure.”

“So, we’ve been talking. We’d like to make you an offer.” He sits down across from me with Travis on one side of him, no longer concerned with the ice pack and totally focused on our conversation.

This isn’t how I wanted to spend tonight. It was hard enough showing up, knowing Adair would be here, and now we have to discuss this? “What kind of offer?” I bite my cheek as penalty for asking such a stupid question, one I know I do not want to hear the answer to.

“Nigel told me you’re leaving Amaryllis.”

I nod.

“I’d—”

Adair interrupts him, jabbing an elbow into his ribs from where he’s standing 

just beside him.

Griffin clears his throat. “Excuse me,” he groans cutting his eyes up at Adair. “We’d like to make you an offer that might change your mind, especially in light of the fact The Machine has launched a smear campaign against us.”

“Smear campaign?” Adair interrupts. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

Travis raises a finger like he’s asking a teacher for permission to speak in class. “I’ll take, because you’re a loose cannon for one-thousand.”

“I am not,” he growls, stomping his foot like a two-year old without his sippy cup.

“Prove it,” Travis says without an ounce of humor in his voice.

Adair’s eyes dart from one person to the next until finally land on me. “Okay,” he says.

Griffin looks up at his brother, studying his response and probably trying to figure out how to handle him right now. “If she takes the gig, you have to do everything she says and stop being your own worst enemy so we can actually get this Amaryllis train back on the tracks.”

Gulp. “Are you all involved in the process?” I ask, wiggling my finger in the air at all four of them—mostly Adair.

Griffin shrugs. “I own the studio, but the label is a mutual venture.”

“Can we talk in private?” I ask, digging as deep as I possibly can to find the nerve to do what I need to. There’s no way I could hold on to my resolve with Adair standing right beside me letting his eyes bore a hole straight through me. “I’d like to discuss a few things, and it might not be information everyone needs.”

“Fair enough,” he agrees, standing up and ushering me around the corner so I can follow him into his office. He closes the door and I let out a sigh of relief as I take a seat in the leather chair stationed in the corner. His office isn’t the typical office space, but it’s exactly what I’d expect from him. Music instruments, production equipment, and random toys Carter must’ve left behind the last time he was in here. It’s clear that Griffin has put his family first in every decision he’s made since meeting London and Carter, and now it’s time for me to put myself first because living a life of putting Adair and Stone ahead of my own needs hasn’t done me a bit of good. “Okay. I’m guessing this is about Adair,” he says, leveling his gaze at me and I feel completely seen in this moment. I don’t like it.

“You could say that,” I admit, clicking my tongue against my teeth.

He lets out a heavy sigh. “I know you two have quite a history.”

I nod.

“And that Adair is an incurable idiot sometimes.”

He’s not wrong.

“This is separate from him. I want you to know, this offer has absolutely nothing to do with whether you want to continue giving him second chances or not. Honestly, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t and neither would the other guys.”

I blink twice. I didn’t expect that.

“I just thought you should know, no one is going to judge you if you’ve finally decided enough is enough.”

“I appreciate that.” And strangely enough, it does help ease my nerves.

“So,” he clears his throat, “with that out of the way, what did you want to talk to 

me about?”

I don’t know if I can actually find the words to tell this man who’s been more family to me than my own brother that I don’t know if I want to keep being in their corner. How can I walk away from them now? That’s what Stone would do. Not me. “Actually, I am interested in hearing what you have in mind. I just couldn’t think with all of that…” I wave my hand towards the door.

“I get it.” The childlike smile returns to his face as the tension leaves the room. “We know there’s a campaign against us being spearheaded by The Machine. We need someone who knows how to get in there and change the rhetoric and the vibe in our community.”

“You mean like a campaign manager?”

“More than that. We’d like to bring you on as our Public Relations Director. You’d be in charge of our P.R. and marketing campaigns to make sure they don’t deflect or detract from the image we’re working to build.”

That’s way more responsibility than I had with The Machine. “You realize I’ve never done anything like that before?”

He shrugs and shakes his head. “I think that’s exactly what you’ve been doing this whole time, the guys do too.”

“I was just the social media manager.”

“You were never given the title or the credit you deserved. We’d like to change that.”

“Speaking of The Machine…” I choke on my words before I can even get them out.

He nods knowingly and gives me his signature lop-sided grin. “We refuse to let our brand have any resemblance to anything The Machine would do.”

“That’s fair enough. I just really hated having to be at their beck and call twenty-four-seven.”

“You’ll set your own hours, Carly. You’ll be the boss.”

The boss? Me? I can’t find the words to respond.

“I know it’s a lot to think about, so…” He grabs a white folder from the bookcase filled with literary classics behind him. “Take this and read it over. Let me know after you’ve had time to think about it.”

I shake my head as I reach out to take the folder from his hand. I can’t help but smile as my finger traces the outline of the new Amaryllis logo. It’s a neon splatter logo with the outline of a guitar in the center. The branding definitely represents the growth they’ve all gone through since signing their first record deal. Their first logo represented beauty in pain, but as they’ve each worked to let go of their pain, they’re finding their own beauty in the abstract. “There’s really nothing for me to think about,” I admit.

“I know you started out with us because of Adair, but I want you to know that you’ve become just as important a member of our family as anyone else in there,” he says, flicking his thumb behind him toward the door.

Attempts to swallow the lump forming in my throat backfire just making my eyes water more. “It may have started out that way, but honestly it’s been about more than just him for a while. I want to see you all succeed; and if I can be there for it then nothing would make me happier.”

“You deserve to succeed too, Carly.”

“I’ll make sure to have all the data together, so I can present it to you and the rest of Amaryllis for approval before each campaign launch.”

He shakes his head and holds up both hands. “Hear what I’m saying, okay? You’re in charge with this. We’re trusting your judgment.”

Is this really happeing?

---

This morning I had less than two weeks to go before I’d be free of the heartburn of being connected to Adair Miller. Now, I’m sitting here at a dinner table surrounded by his family and I’m locked into this Amaryllis journey for the foreseeable future. It’s funny how quickly things change, or maybe they just stay the same. I’m not as upset at the idea of sticking around as I should be—and that is terrifying.

“So,” Griffin interrupts the chatter of different conversations happening around the dinner table. “What exactly were you all talking about when I got here? You were way too serious for dinner time.”

Travis lets out a low growl as he buries his hands in his face.

“You mean the fact that Travis is trying to impress some girl by learning how to cook and he won’t tell us who it is?” Adair wasted no time throwing Travis under the bus again. That’s pretty much how their relationship has worked for as long as I’ve known them. It’s a fair trade off.

Griffin’s eyebrows furrow in confusion as he stuffs a bite in his mouth. “You mean the girl from the set yesterday?” he asks in between chewing. He slowly looks up from his plate, glancing at Travis with eyes like a deer in headlights. “Sorry, bro.”

Travis gives him a deadpan glare. “Not cool.”

“I knew it!” Nash and Adair say in unison, each pointing across the table at him. 

“Wait a minute,” I interrupt. “Why wouldn’t you just tell us that?”

“Yeah,” Adair says with a quizzical look on his face. “You’ve dated video extras before.

Nash laughs from his seat at the table. “It didn’t really turn out that well for you, but you’ve done it. What’s the big deal?”

Travis shakes his head no.

“Your face is actually turning red.” He’s being way too shady. “What are you so worked up about?”

“Fine.” He lets out a dramatic sigh, tugging his phone out of his pocket. “This.” He flips the screen on and drags his finger to the left until he finds what he’s looking for. “When we stopped in Vegas—”

“Right,” I snort. “I remember that all too well.”

Adair chuckles under his breath. “And the missed flight because of it.”

Nash groans. “And having to be rerouted so it took an entire extra freaking day.”

“Do you want me to tell you or not, Mister Crabby-Apple?” He jerks his phone back, tucking it into his chest to protect whatever he’s hiding over there.

I hate to admit it, but I am completely gripped with this. “Ignore them, Trav. Tell me.” I lean in, resting my elbows on the table and cupping my face in my hands.

“Okay, my bad,” Nash concedes and leans in for answers with me.

Adair leans back in his chair, but he’s clearly invested too.

Travis gives a smug look of satisfaction before he flips the phone back around.

“That’s the same picture of London you gave Griffin at the wedding reception. Not first page news, bro,” Adair scoffs.

“Well, Griffin’s soulmate wasn’t the only one I had drawn up that day.” Travis flicks his finger across the screen and a sketch of me comes up.

“Is that—”

“Why is Carly on your phone, Trav?” Adair growls sitting straight up and causing his chair to rock forward and back into place.

“I was kind of wondering the same thing,” I admit.

He shrugs. “He drew Carly after I pointed you out in the crowd to him.”

Adair scoffs. “Carly and I were standing together. It’s just a cheap Vegas gimmick.”

I nod, trying to pretend those words didn’t just cut me straight through. “A cheap Vegas gimmick,” I repeat, letting each word hang in the air just a little longer than necessary. “That’s all it is. Has to be.”

“Maybe,” Travis says with a scowl. “But maybe it’s not. Maybe there’s something to it. I mean, he did draw London too.”

“And they’ve been in the press for over a year,” Nash points out.

Travis nods. “Okay, Nash,” he says, swiping the screen to pull up the next image. “This one is yours.”

Ainsley?

“Travis?” She squeals from her seat between me and Nash. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry,” he makes a grimace. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Okay,” Griffin holds up both hands from the head of the table, “Let’s just get the part about you and stop throwing everyone else here into the fire, huh?”

Travis flicks the screen again. This time revealing an image of a woman wearing a golden yellow dress and blonde hair twisted into a low elegant, braided knot at the nape of her neck. “She’s mine.”

Adair blinks twice. “There’s no face.”

“Exactly.” Travis throws his hands in the air. “I have no idea who she is, but I have to find her.”

“Dude, that’s stup—”

Ainsley, London, and I let out a collective “Aww.” I smack Adair on the arm to get him to shut up. “That’s literally the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard. You have to find her!”

“He totally does,” London says with a hint of a squeal in her tone. “It’s like a fairytale.”

“Oh, my goodness,” Ainsley says, clapping her hands together. “He’s going to be like prince charming and find her. I can’t even. This is too much cuteness to be legal.”

Nash is trying not to react, but I caught him smiling at Ainsley’s excitement. He deserves to be happy too. I hope he isn’t the idiot at relationships his brother is because she would be great for him.

Ugh.

Griffin clears his throat as he slowly looks up from the bite of food he just picked up on his fork. “You said the guy could draw someone’s soulmate after meeting them. I wasn’t there. From what I gather, Nash wasn’t either. So, what gives?”

Travis swallows hard. “Right. About that—”

“What did you do?” Griffin grumbles with a mouth full of food.

“I used a picture,” he answers with a tremble in his voice.

“What picture?” Nash leans forward demanding an answer.

Travis shakes his head.

“What picture?” Griffin echoes.

Travis fights back a laugh and thumbs through images on his phone until he finds the image he’s after. “This one,” he says proudly as he turns the phone for us all to see an image of Griffin in a leopard speedo and a very unhappy look on his face. “From the last photo shoot The Machine forced us to do.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Griffin knocks his plate sending food flying as he reaches across the table and tries to grab Travis by the shirt collar. He’s too fast and is up and already in the other room before Griffin can even get out of his chair. “This is exactly why I wanted to break up with The Machine,” Griffin sulks, sinking back into his chair.

“I know, honey.” London gives him a kiss on the cheek. “If it’s any consolation, you were the best-looking Tarzan I’ve ever seen. That shoot is going to haunt you forever though,” she says through a laugh.

“I know,” he pouts.

Nash and Adair can’t hold it back anymore. Their laughter booms through the dining room. I have to admit, it’s times like this I couldn’t imagine ever walking away from Amaryllis.