CHAPTER TWELVE
LONDON

Griffin’s hopeful smirk fades and my heart clenches. I really shouldn’t care one way or the other. I always care more than I should. Why am I even still talking to these two? “This whole thing is just ridiculous.”

“It absolutely is not ridiculous.” Nigel looks more offended that I would consider telling him and The Machine no than anything else.

Oohhh… the big bad Machine.

“Listen, tonight I’ve gone from dumping an entire jar of spaghetti sauce all over me and the kitchen floor, just before I dropped Carter off at my parents, to cheering for a band I only just learned about this week.” I glance at Griffin who is wearing a sheepish grin and I remember the electricity I felt when his hand brushed mine. I clear my throat, pushing thoughts of Griffin, his hands, and anything else Griffin related out of my head. “Then… I went to being an honorary member of Amaryllis and playing for an audience of their fans.” I crack my neck to try and dispel some of the tension.

“That’s disgusting.” Nigel makes a gag face and cringes. “I get it. It’s fast. That’s the life, though. You want to make music? You need to get used to making quick decisions, that’s what keeps your head in the game.” He folds his hands directly in front of his chest. “The Machine is offering you one-hundred-fifty thousand dollars for a limited time contract as these guys’ touring keyboardist/pianist/whateverist.” He rolls his eyes. “You in, or are you out?”

Griffin leans in close. I don’t pull away though. Somehow, I feel safer with him standing here. That makes absolutely zero sense to me. “He’s a snake,” he whispers. “The offer is real, I can guarantee that, but do not trust Nigel.” His breath against my skin makes chill bumps sprout on my neck.

“I already knew that much,” I whisper back. “This guy screams scum-of-the-earth.” I can’t help but wonder how many girls dream about having Griffin Miller give them a second look, not to mention the pleading look he’s giving me now. I’m not going to lie. My ego is enjoying the fact that I’m the one who gets this moment. His eyes are doing that thing again, and I swear to all that’s holy if he doesn’t stop then I’m going to be in danger of actually giving in. “How could I possibly even consider this? I’ve got a son waiting for me back home.”

Nigel nods. “How old is he?”

“Six.”

“Going into first grade?”

I nod.

“Public or private school?”

“Homeschooled.” I look to Griffin hoping he can give me some kind of clue as to what Nigel is up to.

“Okay, done.” Nigel swipes a few more times on his phone’s screen before looking back up at me. “What’s next?”

“Wait… What was that? What’s done?”

He laughs dismissively like I should already know and stop asking such stupid questions. “I’ve ordered a bus for you that has a study station and top of the line laptops to be placed inside it by Monday morning. No summer slump and if the school year starts while we’re on the road then you’re ready to go.”

“By Monday morning?”

“Yes.” He nods. “Quick decisions, remember?”

Right.

He did say that.

“I have no experience playing with bands… Or crowds.” I swallow hard and choke on my spit. That was kind of embarrassing.

“You did both of those things tonight.” Griffin winks and grins at me.

Ignore the smile.

He’s not that hot.

That amount of money could be enough to give us a new start.

“Nigel…” Griffin speaks up. “She’s worth more than a hundred-fifty.”

What? “No.” I shake my head and hold up my hands. “I really don’t—”

“Fine, you want to play that game Miller?” Nigel scowls. “Three-fifty. Take it or leave it.”

Griffin looks extremely proud of himself.

I don’t know what just happened.

“You’re offering me, three-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollars to play one song?” I can’t even believe I’m having this conversation right now.

Nigel cranes his neck as he swipes the screen of his phone. “One song a night, five to six times a week from Monday through August 31st.”

“My son can come with me and will be with me at all times?” That’s a deal breaker for me. I can’t believe I’m actually considering this offer.

“Of course.” Nigel nods.

I look to Griffin to confirm because I really don’t trust Nigel. I haven’t known him long at all, but he’s given me enough reasons to know I can’t trust him further than I can throw him. Griffin nods his head. I don’t know why I trust him, but I do.

“My parents…” I don’t know how to actually make this work. I can’t keep Carter away from them for that long.

Griffin leans against the iron fence lining the sidewalk. It’s one of my favorite nostalgic features of downtown Tulsa. It’s beautiful and having Griffin Miller leaning on it doesn’t hurt. “How often do they see Carter now?” He asks with what sounds like genuine concern.

“They work a lot during the week, but we’re usually there with them for most of the weekend.”

“Every weekend?” he asks.

I nod.

“Okay,” he says matter-of-factly as he turns toward Nigel and smirks. “She’s going to need full access to my jet.”

“Done.” Nigel swipes at his phone a few more times.

“What just happened?”

Griffin smiles and pulls a card from his back pocket. He points to a phone number on the back. “Nigel just let Joe know that as of tomorrow morning he is to be on standby for your calls.”

“Joe?” I’m still studying the card. It’s cute. It has a sky-blue background with a modern looking airplane leaving the runway. “Your pilot, I’m guessing.”

“Yep.” Griffin nods. “And now he’s your pilot as well.”

“I don’t need a pilot.”

“For your parents, that way they can come see you and Carter whenever they want,” Griffin says. “It won’t matter what city we’re playing; Joe will bring your parents to whatever part of the country we’re in and then we’ll make arrangements to have them picked up from the airport.”

“Right.” I nod. “Of course, because that’s completely normal.”

“It’s normal for people who accept the deal.” Nigel is clearly growing more impatient by the minute.

I’m caught off guard by Griffin’s generosity. Who just gives you access to their personal pilot and jet? But if they’re only there on the weekends, who’s going to watch Carter while I’m playing? “I also need someone I trust with us for when I’m on stage and can’t watch Carter myself. Obviously, my parents will be there for the weekends, if they agree to come that often, but there will be more nights.”

“I’ve already maxed out the budget for you at three-fifty,” Nigel says through gritted teeth.

Griffin smirks and cocks his head to the side. “I don’t know, Nigel. It sounds like it’s a no-go if you can’t come off of another… What?” He looks at me for help.

“At least a hundred-fifty more for Casey to watch Carter during the weeknight shows.” What is happening to me?

“One-hundred.” Nigel’s tone is all business now.

I know Casey. She just lost her job and is always down for anything. “I think she’ll be okay with that.”

“Great.” Nigel sticks his hand out for me. “So, we have a deal?”

“What’s the catch?” I refuse to give him my hand and cross my arms over my chest sticking my hands in my armpits like a totally normal almost thirty-year-old woman would do.

Nigel cackles and throws his head back. “There’s no catch, Cinderella. You’re being offered a chance of a lifetime. Are you going to take it or run home and turn into a pumpkin?”

This guy really has some balls.

“Wait just a minute.” Griffin grabs him around the collar and backs him up to the fence. “You’ve gone too far, Nigel. You weren’t always like this. You let The Machine turn you into a soulless piece of trash.”

“Griffin!” I grab him by the shoulder. “Stop it!” I can’t stand Nigel and he definitely needs to learn some respect, but this isn’t how you do it.

Griffin relaxes just enough to lower Nigel back to his feet. “Don’t you ever talk to her like that again. Do you understand?”

Nigel’s face is red, but he nods.

Another reason I can’t let myself get caught up with Griffin Miller. The temper on this guy…

It’s a lot of money though, enough to make sure Carter gets the best education in the state. It’s even enough to pay off most of my parents’ bills. They could retire early. They’ve done so much for us… It would be irresponsible to turn down a chance to help them. “One condition.”

“Name it.” Griffin folds his hands behind his back and keeps one eye focused on Nigel.

I shake my head. “I can’t have things like this influencing my son.”

He nods.

“The fights, the booze, the women…” I cringe as I think about the likely endless line of women that visit Griffin Miller’s bed. My stomach twists in knots at the image, and I honestly have no idea why that made me feel nauseous. “All of that has to stay far away from Carter.”

“Done.” Griffin stuffs his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “That’s not a problem at all. You’ll have your own bus, and without Stone hanging around the only thing we’ll have to worry about is making sure Nigel doesn’t open his big mouth again.”

“I can handle myself.” I turn to face Nigel. “I’ll take the deal.”

“I knew you were a smart girl.” He gives me a wink that makes my skin crawl. “I need your phone number and email so I can send you the address to meet, the contract, and the rest of the details.”

Griffin is standing behind me and growling under his breath, but at least he’s not trying to kill Nigel this time.

What have I gotten myself into?

---

The light over my parents’ front door is still on when I pull into their drive. The blue glow of the television peeks out through a small gap in the living room curtains. It reminds me of being a teenager when Mom would always wait up until I made it home.

I hold the keys tight in my hand as I fiddle with the lock and slowly close the heavy white door to avoid waking anyone up. Mom’s asleep in her recliner. It’s yellow, her favorite color. Dad bought it for her on their thirtieth wedding anniversary. I’m pretty sure she’s fallen asleep in it every night since. “Mom,” I nudge her on the shoulder, “I’m home.”

“Oh.” She peeks out of one eye. “I must’ve fallen asleep. How was it?”

That’s a whole mess and a half that I do not have the energy for. “It was… interesting.”

“I’m pretty well rested now.” She chuckles through a yawn as she stretches. “What happened?”

I plop down on the sofa and tuck my legs under myself. The wonky lotus pose has always been my thing when I’m stressed out. She’s giving me that knowing look. You know the one. It’s the look all moms give because moms know everything.

Literally… everything.

“I’ll go brew a pot of coffee,” she says through a yawn, stretching her arms over her head. “You figure out what it is you need to talk about, deal?” She pats me on the shoulder as she walks around the sofa toward the kitchen, it makes me feel like a kid again. What I need to talk about?

I just agreed to tour with a major headliner act through August. 

No big deal.

I let out a heavy sigh just as she’s coming around the corner and handing me my coffee. It’s in the coffee mug I gave her for Mother’s Day when I was still living at home. It has a heart and Best Mom Ever in cursive font on the front. “Thanks Mom.”

“Sweetie,” she sits beside me, “what in the world happened? You look upset.”

“You know how Carter wants to be a NASA Scientist?” I take a sip of the coffee.

Mom smiles and leans back against the cushions. “Of course, I do. He was absolutely beside himself when your father picked out that solar system display for him.”

“Exactly,” I nod. “He’s been talking a lot about how he wants to go to space and discover new planets and things that I don’t even understand what he’s talking about.”

She lets out a soft laugh under her breath. “That boy is destined for amazing things.”

“I was given an opportunity tonight, Mom.” I take another sip of coffee to fight back the lump forming in my throat and the what ifs.

What if I screw up on stage?

What if Carter hates being on the bus?

What if my parents can’t visit and then Carter doesn’t get to see them for months? That would be traumatic for him, since he needs routine.

What if? What if? What if?

“What is it?” The lines between her eyebrows become more defined from worry. 

My neck cracks as I crane it from side-to-side to dispel some of the anxieties. It didn’t work. “So…” I look up at her from the corner of one eye. “I met the band.”

“Wow. That’s a teenage dream come true, but that’s not what has you all upset.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“So, what does?”

I swallow hard. “While I was talking to Griffin…”

Her eyebrows arch with an Oh, really? look.

Sigh. “While I was talking to the lead singer, their manager was totally freaking out because their keys player passed out backstage and no one could wake him up.”

“Oh, my goodness, I hope the young man was all right.”

I roll my eyes and wave my hand in the air. “Apparently, this has been an ongoing thing with him, and the entire band was completely fed-up with it.”

“Was?” She tilts her head to the side.

I nod. “Casey was standing there, and you know how Casey is,” I say through a nervous giggle. “She volunteered me to help them out.”

“Oh!” Mom goes to clap her hands together in excitement and almost spills her coffee. “Did you do it?”

I nod slowly. “I did.”

She sits her mug down on the coffee table and wraps her arms around me. “I’m so proud of you.” She’s giggling and bubbling over with excitement. “You were amazing. I just know it.”

“I was terrified.” That’s the truth. “But apparently I must have been okay because after the show their manager offered me a short gig.”

She leans back with her hands over her mouth. “A gig?”

“Yes.” Here’s the hard part. “It’s only for a few months, starts Monday and goes through the end of August but they’re willing to pay me three-hundred-and-fifty-thousand dollars, Mom.”

“Whoa.” She sinks back into the sofa cushions. “That’s really fast… and a lot of money. What about Carter?”

I pick at a loose string hanging from the hem of my tank top and wrap it around my finger. “Well, they offered me a private bus where Carter can do his studies, and I would make sure to take him to whatever park is in the area so he can stay plenty active and have his usual routine.” I bite my bottom lip as I struggle to figure out my next words.

She pats me gently on the knee. “This is a huge opportunity for you… Carter, too.”

“I know.” I shake my head trying to make sense of everything that’s happening. “Griffin, the lead singer, has offered free use of his private jet so that you and Dad can visit every single weekend.”

“That’s very generous of him.”

She’s not wrong. I’m still stunned that he offered it. “Apparently it’s a perk of being in the band.” I shrug. “Nigel, the manager, made it sound like it’s par for the course.”

“Your father and I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She gives me another bear hug. “You’re finally letting yourself live up to your full potential. I am so proud of you.”

“So, you’ll come see us every weekend?” I ask, still unsure if she’s actually hearing me.

“Do you really think we would miss any show that has you playing in it?” She cranes her neck to the side and gives me the dreaded mom look. “You know better than that.”

“So, you’re okay with this?”

“Of course, I am.” She smiles and shakes her head, no doubt in pure disbelief of her daughter’s insecurity and overwhelming awkwardness. “Even if I wasn’t, you have to do what’s right for you and Carter. Your father and I are your biggest fans, and this is definitely something that could help make your life, and his, a whole lot easier.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Always.” A huge yawn escapes and distorts her whole face.

I can’t help but giggle. “I’m kind of exhausted too. We can work out the schedule and all the details in the morning.” I smile and kiss her forehead before heading toward my old room. She hasn’t changed a thing since I lived here as a teenager. It’s still covered in my teenage heartthrob posters and everything is either pink or mint green. It’s also right next to Carter’s room. I peek through the tiny gap in the door. He’s sound asleep under his solar system blanket and with his spaceship plushy on the nightstand next to him.

I lean over his bed and give him a kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight, my future scientist.”