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  “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt nothin’ for us to go find out,” Pops said, taking my hand to lead me across the street.

  I ordered a draft beer with tomato juice. A shiver ran down my spine after my first sip, it tasted that good. It was not an easy feat for me to drink my ‘socially acceptable’ drinks in the business. God forbid I go to a restaurant and order a damn beer. I was always forced to drink the newest fruity girly drink in order to keep with my image. Photos of me downing a whisky sour would probably give my PR team a coronary. Reason number six hundred and thirty-seven that made it so easy to walk away.

  “So tell me, sweetheart, you home for long?” Pops asked.

  I looked around to make sure no one would overhear my answer. Of course, being the middle of the afternoon in po-dunk Iowa, we were the only people in the bar. The guy Jimmy had working was busy stocking the cooler, not paying attention to us at all.

  “Um…yeah, funny story. Um…I sort of will be, for, um, awhile.” I was stuttering all over my words. The only people aware of my plans to end my career were my lawyer and Sarah. The entire staff would be receiving notice today of their termination. I made sure to get out of town before that happened. My lawyer, Mr. Vangoal, knew once everything was tied up I would still continue his services. He’d been so good to me over the years and knew my business and handlings like the back of his hand. He also understood that I was done dealing with everybody’s sticky fingers when it came to my finances. Finally, I’d have control over my own life. It was almost a foreign concept to me anymore.

  “How long’s awhile?” he asked.

  “I’m not a singer anymore, Pops,” I said quietly. I looked at him sideways out of the corner of my eye. His beer was stalled halfway to his mouth as he stared straight ahead.

  He finally turned to look at me. I was so uncomfortable I started giggling. Bad trait to have, especially as a performer, but any time I was nervous or uncomfortable I’d break out in a fit of giggles. By the look on Pops’ face, he didn’t find anything about my last statement very funny.

  “How the hell is that possible?” he asked.

  “Well,” I sighed, “I got sick of it. Enough is enough. Do you know that people steal my clothes from hotels and sell them on the internet?” I asked. “I mean, come on. I can’t go anywhere. I have no life. Every person I know has their slimy fingers in my fucking bank account.” I was starting to get pissed. I always dropped the f-bombs more when my temper got going and it didn’t matter who was around to hear them. “It’s not worth it. I thought it was. I thought there was no way in hell I’d ever come back here looking to put down roots. I thought I’d have it all and ride off into the sunset with my cowboy.”

  I looked down at my beer glass as a sudden sadness washed over me. “All my life, I dreamed of being a famous singer. As long as I can remember. I know people will think I’m insane for leaving it all behind. But over the years, Pops, my dreams have changed. As much as I love to be up on stage and make records, I won’t do it at the expense of my happiness. There has to be more to life, right?”

  Pops tried to smother his smile with his beer glass.

  “Well, I’m glad you finally got your head out of your ass, kid,” he said. Of everything I’d just told him, that’s all he had to say in response. Unreal. He threw a few bills on the bar and got up to leave.

  “Wait. Where are you going?” I asked. “We just got here.”

  “Gotta get home, darlin’,” he said. “Stop by and see your Grandma soon, ok?” He winked at me before shuffling away toward the door.

  I nodded. “Ok” was all that would come out of my mouth.

  What the hell? I wondered to myself. Apparently seeing your only granddaughter twice in twelve years didn’t constitute enjoying a full beer together. But Pops always had a way about him. He listened to your problems but somehow could get you to come to the solution yourself. Then he was done.

  I heard the jingle of bells hitting a door and looked to my left thinking it was Pops making his exit. Instead, a shadowy figure encased by the sunlight behind him entered the bar. My stomach dropped and I got that feeling. You know, the one where butterflies flap around and get you all giddy until it bottoms out straight to your knees? Check! This silhouette of a man was magnificent. Tall and built. He grabbed his hat off his head and ran his palm through his thick, dark brown hair. It was long enough that it curled at the nape of his neck and around his ears. He came a few more steps into the bar and……

  “Oh my God,” I breathed.

  I recognized him instantly. Obviously he’d changed, but he was still the boy I knew all those years ago. The one I had placed high on a pedestal and made any other man I’d ever known seem not good enough.

  He took a few steps further into the bar before he saw me and stopped in his tracks. His light green eyes were as round as saucers and the color drained from his face like he had seen a ghost.

  “Bright Eyes,” he said as he exhaled.

  “Yeah,” I managed to croak. My mouth was dry and it was hard to spit out any other words. I couldn’t believe that after twelve years I was seeing my best friend again. He stood frozen, staring at me like he didn’t know what to do next. I saw, as he started to thaw, a slow smile creep up on his lips as he glanced at my half empty beer glass.

  “Drinking in the middle of the afternoon? I see you haven’t changed much. Did you at least pay for the beer this time?” he asked with a smirk.

  I jumped up off my barstool and ran to him.

  “Hey, Justin,” I said softly in his ear as I threw my arms around his neck. It was just like the old days. He wrapped his arms around my waist and squeezed. He quickly let me go, but held me at arm’s length as he scanned my body. “And Pops paid for it, actually,” I finished.

  “Oh, well that’s good to hear,” he said. “Though I figured with your celebrity status you were probably used to getting shit handed to you for free.”

  I rolled my eyes and smiled up at him. His eyes searched my face like he was looking for something. I was uncomfortable having him study me that close, so I pulled back and stood awkwardly to the side. “Will you join me for one?” I asked. Justin followed and sat on the barstool next to mine. Once I got myself situated, I took a moment to see all that he had become.

  Time had been good to Justin DeLuca. His All American Boy features from high school turned him into one hell of a good looking man. I looked him up and down, admiring his solid, muscular body and his tanned skin. He had to be just over six feet tall and his shoulders seemed twice as wide as I remember. He was wearing a pair of worn blue jeans, a gray t-shirt covered in dirt and sweat, and a pair of dark brown work boots. I took a deep breath and smelled him.

  Holy Lord, he smelled like a man. Not the type of man I was used to, with shiny manicured fingernails and the stench of expensive cologne, but a man. He’d been working in the sun all day doing manly things, I’m sure.

  “What?” he asked as he grabbed the handle of his glass to take a sip of his beer. He didn’t even have to order, the bartender had his short draft ready before his butt even made it to the seat.

  “You’ve changed,” I blurted. It came out more of an accusation than an observation.

  “Well no fucking shit,” he said with a slight bite to his tone. “You took off twelve years ago. What the hell did you think was going to happen?”

  My head jerked back like I’d been smacked in the mouth. All of a sudden he went from smiles and hugs to snapping at me like I’d committed a crime.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean…”

  “I know,” he interrupted me. “You just didn’t mean a lot of things, Lil.”

  Well, damn. This was not how I envisioned a reunion for the two of us. I didn’t know what to say, so I pretended to be totally intrigued with the tab on my tomato juice can.

  “What are you doing here?”

  I looked up to see Justin looking directly at me. When my eyes met his, my heart fluttered again and droppe
d down into my stomach. What is happening to me? I thought to myself. Even though I’d had a crush on him growing up, we always had a very platonic relationship. And now, here I sat twelve years later like some teenage kid with a super crush, feeling a pull from somewhere deep just because he looked into my eyes.

  I took a breath to calm my nerves. “I…..I can’t do it anymore,” I told him while shaking my head. “I thought singing was my dream. I mean, it WAS my dream once upon a time. But all the bullshit got in the way and it stopped being fun.” I looked up to see his expression had hardened.

  “I’m done,” I shrugged.

  “Just like that?” He asked. “I can’t believe that you just woke up one day and decided to throw it all away.”

  “Well, it didn’t happen overnight,” I corrected him. “I put the wheels in motion with my lawyer about six months ago. We’ve been quietly working to get out of all my obligations and dissolve the staff on payroll.”

  “So basically what you’re telling me is the last twelve years of making records and going on tour was for nothing. Right? You didn’t have to leave THE DAY of our high school graduation to go chase your dream. A dream that, we come to find out, was the wrong one?”

  I felt my eyes get huge. He was obviously mad that I had given up, but he just didn’t get it. He would never understand, and there was no way I’d ever tell him what really happened.

  I wiped the sweat from my beer glass. “It just got too hard. I lost me. I lost the Lil that put on fake shows in her bedroom at night singing into a hairbrush to Reba McEntire tapes.” I drained the rest of my beer and set down my glass. “I wanted to be a singer, Justin, not a puppet so everyone else could get rich off of my hard work.”

  He reached into his back pocket to grab his wallet. “I gotta go,” he said, throwing a few bills onto the wooden bar.

  I was so flustered I didn’t even know how to respond. Why was he upset with me? I had only been in town a whole forty-five minutes!

  “What is the matter with you?” I snipped.

  Apparently that was not the correct question to ask at this juncture. Eeck!

  The stony glare Justin turned on me was petrifying. “Are you fucking shitting me?” he asked as he leaned his muscular arm against the bar and brought his face terrifyingly close to mine.

  “Um, no?” I said softly, but it came out more of a question.

  “Damn it,” he hissed at me. “If you even have to ask me that after twelve goddamned years, Lil, then we are not friends anymore. I can count on my fingers – my FINGERS,” he roared, “the number of times I have spoken to you since graduation day. I haven’t seen you in person. Not once. And you change your mind one day and come crawling back home with your tail between your legs? Well, don’t expect a fucking ticker tape parade if maybe not everyone sees your homecoming as a good thing. You left town, Lil. You left ME. And that’s not something I will ever forget.”

  He had never spoken to me this way before. As much as it scared the crap out of me, it was also a major turn on. Standing next to the barstool now, his broad chest moved up and down from breathing so heavily. I looked him in the eyes, trying to think of the right thing to say but nothing came to me.

  All I wanted to do was kiss him.

  When he dropped his glare down to my mouth, my breathing completely stopped.

  Without even realizing it, my tongue wet over my lips as my top teeth came down to catch my bottom lip tightly. I shouldn’t be having these feelings for Justin. Hell, I never have emotional attachment of any kind toward men anymore. I made damn sure to never make THAT mistake twice. I knew the risks of putting my feelings out there. All it took is the wrong person to get ahold of what makes you vulnerable and they would own you. So allowing myself to feel anything for Justin was all new territory for me. I knew he would never intentionally hurt me or use me to get something he wanted, but I still would not let myself ever go there with him.

  I slid my professional persona into place to block my feelings. I couldn’t be feeling like this. Bad Lily.

  Bad. Bad. Bad. Do not let him break the walls you’ve built.

  “If I recall, I offered to fly you out numerous times and you came up with a bullshit reason why you had to stay here every time. Whatever. I’ll see ya around, Justin,” I said as I slid off the barstool and grabbed my Prada bag by the handles. “And for the record, it took a lot of guts for me to quit in a business that is very unforgiving. You have no idea the things I’ve been through. But thanks for turning my homecoming into something all about you.” I turned my back to him and headed for the door, cool as ice, practically stomping my high heeled boots across the tile floor. I should stay and have another drink. At least try to make amends and let him know how much his friendship means to me. I knew very little about his life since high school. The only thing I did know is that he churned something inside me that’s been dead and buried for a long time. Something that I didn’t need popping up now. Not after I’d finally made the conscious decision to live by my own terms.

  There was no way I would give up the control I fought so hard to finally get back. So hard that I had to give up everything. I knew opportunities like mine didn’t come along more than once in a lifetime. I made my decision to quit and I was sticking by it. And while there were people out there who’d be willing to do whatever it takes to hold on to that celebrity status, I was no longer one of them. In the last twelve years my priorities have changed. What I thought was the cop out, easy road of settling down, was beginning to look more and more appealing every day. No more living in hotel rooms and having my every move documented for the world to see. No more watching what I said or making sure I didn’t slip up and do anything embarrassing in the public eye. I wanted a simple life. Quiet. Peaceful.

  As I made my way to my rental car, things were becoming very clear. It was time to talk with a realtor about buying a home, put down roots, move on from the spotlight and find what the next step in my life would be. I was so engrossed in my thoughts I didn’t hear footsteps behind me.

  A large, callused hand wrapped tightly around my forearm. I jumped, letting out a small yelp.

  “Jesus, you’re in Glenview, Lil. Not Los Angeles,” Justin muttered.

  “What, Justin?” I snapped at him, pretending to be angry to cover the hurt in my heart from his harsh words. “You didn’t cut me down enough back there? Do you need me to be sure I know my place with you? Because I have no doubt anymore.”

  “Listen, I didn’t mean to pick a fight,” he started. “I just wasn’t expecting to see you.” He tugged his cap down low over his eyes. “Glad you’re back in town.”

  And with that he turned and strolled across the street to his truck. No hug. No cheek kiss. No ‘hey let’s get together later.’ Nothing. He just walked away.

  I blinked and watched his ass as he walked across the street. It was the sexiest thing I’d seen in years. But the part of me that had my walls built up was not going to let the part of me that wanted to strip him naked and lick every inch of his hard body win. No way. I closed my eyes to halt the tears as they started to pool. The hurt I felt at Justin’s rejection sat heavy on my heart, but I would not cry.

  I would NOT cry.

  This was too much. I sat in the driver’s seat of my rented SUV, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill down my cheeks. I needed music. I needed to crank the radio, roll down my windows, and sing. I would pretend that little incident didn’t just happen. It was time to go see my folks and let them know my new life plan.

  As I pulled away from the curb, I could no longer hold back the tears.

  I began to cry.

  Chapter 3

  Driving up the curvy lane of the family farm, a sense of peace washed over me. It had been way too long. The evergreens running the entire length from the road to the house had more than doubled in size. I parked in front of my childhood home under the shade of the big oak tree. My car door was barely opened when my parents came hurrying down the concrete ste
ps to greet me.

  “Aaahhhh, my baby girl!” My mama. She was the best mother in the entire world, and I swore she’d call me baby girl until the day I die no matter how old I got.

  “Hey, Mama,” I said as I gave her a hug. “Good to see you, Dad.”

  “Can’t believe you came all the way here and didn’t tell us,” he said. “We could’ve let everyone know and had a big old party for ya.” That was my Dad. Any excuse under the sun to invite the neighbors over. He and I were alike in so many ways. At least the old me, before I wasn’t able to have a random get-togethers with friends anymore.

  “Ah, Dad,” I joked, “you know the helicopters circling above would probably ruin your crops, right?”

  He grinned from ear to ear. “Well we certainly can’t have that happening, now can we?”

  Mama grabbed my arm and pulled me inside before I barely had the chance to take a glance around the farm. Dad was already heading to the car to get my bags.

  Not much had changed, except the red paint on all the buildings looked a bit faded. The grass was always well kept, and Dad made sure to put his farm machinery away so the place didn’t look like a junk yard.

  The farm house was very old but my parents had put in a lot of work to keep it looking nice. As I walked up the steps into the entryway, I was overcome with emotion. Everything seemed exactly the same, but at the same time different. Fresh paint coated the walls and new flooring had been laid in the kitchen. Considering the last time I stepped foot in this house was the morning I drove into town for my high school graduation, it was a miracle I even remembered the place at all. The entryway was open and inviting. A dark red washer and dryer sat in the corner with all Mama’s soaps and stain removers lined on the shelf above. Inside the next door was the country blue kitchen with a worn, round dining table in the center of the room. Jars and canisters littered the countertops, ready to hold whatever goodies Mama gathered from her garden.

  “You got here just in time to help,” Mama said as she tied her apron back around her hips. “The garden is putting out food so fast this summer, I work from sun up until suppertime and can barely stay ahead of things.”