Chasing Love's Wings Read online

  Back in Bobby’s office, he’s sitting on his stool, looking a little older and more like I remember him when I came back after my sophomore year.

  “Cameron is finally home, where she belongs. But she hates me. No, she despises me. Which I guess is something I should’ve expected all those years ago and no less than I deserve. I just wish I knew how to show her how much I’ve missed her.”

  The video continues on for a few minutes: he is talking about my being home and trying to work through how he can try and fix the mess he’s created, and it pulls harder at my heartstrings.

  “I’d have given you a chance, if I’d known,” I breathe and pour the last of the bottle of Crown into my wine glass.

  I move on to the next folder, “Amazing Discovery.” I cock my head at the screen. Tristan and I had talked about the day Bobby discovered I could sing, and Bobby’s subsequent reaction, which would’ve happened in 2004. I open the folder, and again, only one video.

  This time Bobby is sitting behind his desk. Someone — who, I can’t quite tell — is sitting opposite him.

  “I’ve discovered someone amazing,” Bobby says. “Singer, amazingly talented, a great stage presence.” I watch as Bobby takes a drink from his snifter; brandy was always his drink of choice.

  “So what’s the problem?”

  I sit up on the couch with interest. I recognize the voice immediately, but the hair threw me off. It’s Vinnie.

  Bobby doesn’t answer him right away. Taking another drink, he stands and walks toward the cabinet to his right, and though he is off-screen just a little, I can tell by the clinking of crystal that he’s filling his glass. When he is done, he walks toward the camera slightly and then starts to pace the room.

  “I can’t sign her.”

  “Bobby, since when do you not sign an amazing talent? You’re by far the best in the business, you know talent better than the talent knows talent.” I watch as Vinnie turns in his chair toward my father, and I can see it now; why Vinnie shaves his head. His hairline is receding horribly and he looks years older, and it’s been eight years since this video was shot.

  “There are two rules for signing new talent in this company. You know them as well as I do.”

  “No signing someone that you’re screwing, or family. So you’re screwing—” I watch as Bobby visually cringes at Vinnie’s words.

  “Dammit, Vin, it’s Cami.” I feel both shock as he uses my nickname and the shock that stretches across Vinnie’s face.

  “Make an exception,” Vinnie finally manages to say.

  “I could, if I hadn’t reacted so poorly when I found out.” Vinnie looks at Bobby, and he continues. “I hadn’t expected what I was going to see. I’d never heard her sing before and I blew a gasket. The first thing that flew through my mind was no way in hell was I going to let my daughter be caught up in this mess, then the other was the fact that I can’t sign her, and that someone else was going to profit from my daughter. So I threw a fit.”

  “Jesus—”

  The video cuts off.

  Tears streak down my cheeks. After all the years I’ve wanted that answer, and now that I have it, there is nothing I can do about it. I put my head in my hands as the tears start to roll and the sobs come harder and faster than they have in years.

  FOUR

  ******

  Tristan

  ******

  LAX is probably my favorite place to be right now because it means I’m heading back to Phoenix and back to Cami. It is Thursday afternoon and she has no idea that I’m coming home today. I’d told her tomorrow before I left, but I busted my butt to get out of here faster. After being in Tarah and then in Phoenix with Cami, I am beginning to despise Los Angeles.

  I spoke with Vinnie about my being able to live in Phoenix and still being able to come here when it’s necessary. He said that he doesn’t see a problem with it. Especially considering the two movies I am signed to complete by the end of the year are not even in L.A. I am going to have to go to Montana — boring — and New York for the other.

  I wonder if I can convince Cami to come with me to both. At the very least I will need her in New York with me because I will be in the city itself and I don’t want any negative PR starting up should I decide to go out. This way, Cami can be with me.

  “It’s time,” Tyson says as he stands up. He’s coming back with me this time. He wants to go see Jolene and spend some time with her. I can’t help but smile at the idea of him and Jolene together. She’s a great girl and perfect for Tyson. I think he knows it too.

  “Let’s do it,” I say as we head toward the terminal door of the first class lounge.

  LAX is very busy this afternoon and I’m glad Ty brought some extra security along to help with crowd control.

  I’m not ten feet outside the lounge and girls are already yelling my name. “Go faster.” I grit my teeth and we all pick up our pace. I don’t look up in my sunglasses, and I am following Tyson’s feet as we walk. The hat and sunglasses, of course, do nothing to hide my celebrity, at least not here in Los Angeles. Maybe that’s why I want to stay in Phoenix so bad.

  We make it to the terminal, and the three guys Tyson brought with him block the doorway to the jet walkway. Tyson and I immediately, without stopping, walk straight onto the plane. The gentlemen behind us are taking care of my boarding pass.

  We step onto the plane, and before we are even seated in the last row of first class, the door is closed and we are on our way. At least being a celeb has its small advantages. I am almost always last to board, and we take off quickly.

  The flight from LAX to PHX is quick, and before we know it, we’re in a Town Car headed toward Cami’s condo. There were a few photographers when we left the terminal, and that, no doubt, is due to someone catching my flight number, airline and destination.

  Since New York and the premiere, the press has managed to ascertain that Cami is a resident of Phoenix, so I am sure they were pretty confident that I’d disembark in Phoenix, even though the plane I was on is headed on to Dallas.

  “Are you planning on going anywhere this weekend?” Tyson asks me.

  I shake my head. “I don’t think so, but if that should change, I’ll let you know.”

  Tyson nods his understanding. Jolene doesn’t live too far from Cami’s, so if we needed or wanted to go somewhere, he could be there.

  “I’ll talk to Cami, maybe we can have everyone over for dinner tomorrow or Saturday. Travis is still here with Naomi, so...”

  “Sure, just let us know,” he responds and gives me a half smile.

  That’s it for our conversation. While we were in Tarah, Ty and I grew a little closer, but I think a lot of that had to do with the fact that he wasn’t having to watch my back every second. Since we’ve come back to the States, things have gone back to business. Though I have no doubt that if we were to all have dinner together, we’d all be right back to the way things were in Tarah.

  The car pulls up in front of Cami’s condo and I grab my bag. “Want to come up?” I ask Ty.

  “Nah, man, I’m gonna go see my girl.”

  I smile at the goofy expression on his face as I climb out of the car and head for the door.

  Cami gave me a key to her condo and I can tell she’s here because there are a couple of lights on on the third floor. I unlock the door, but the alarm isn’t set. That’s weird; she always sets the alarm. But the door was locked, so I don’t get too excited about it.

  I ascend the stairs two at a time, climbing my way up until I reach the living level. I can hear someone talking, then I hear a rather loud thump that sounds like a heavy bottle meeting the coffee table.

  “...I never meant to hurt you, and I’m sorry for what I’ve put you through over the years, but I’m certain after you see what I’ve shown you, you can understand why—” There is a pause in the voice and something about it is very familiar, but I can’t seem to put my finger on it. I come around the corner to see the back of Cami’s head; she’s loo
king toward the blue screen of the TV. I watch momentarily as I see her bring a rather large wine glass to her lips, but the liquid is a dark amber color.

  “Cams,” I say, and she jumps and screams. I rush toward her, but I am too late and the glass she's holding shatters all over the tile floor. “Don’t move,” I say as I come around the couch and realize that she's barefoot. And it takes me only a minute to realize that she is still wearing the same clothes as when I left on Tuesday. “Let me get a broom and some towels, please don’t move.”

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  She’s angry, but I’m not sure that her anger is directed at me.

  “I finished early so I came—” I look at her then, in the light of the blue screen of the TV, and her eyes are completely raccooned and she has streaks of black mascara running down her cheeks. “What is going on?”

  She plops back down on the couch. “I’m drunk. Very drunk.” Her words slur horribly as she tells me all of this.

  “I can tell,” I say as I walk toward the kitchen and the pantry where I know there is a broom and dustpan. I grab it, along with the roll of paper towels on the counter, and go back into the living room. I flick on the side table light, and she squints and covers her eyes. “I need to see to clean this up.” But I look to the floor and near the TV. This isn’t the first glass she’s shattered. On the wall on both sides of the TV there are stains dripping down to the floor, and underneath those are piles of clear, broken glass.

  Jesus. “Cams, talk to me.... What is going on?”

  She doesn’t say anything, but lifts her arm, points it at the TV, and suddenly, in sixty-inch glory, is the face and upper torso of none other than Robert “Bobby” Enders.

  I’m taken aback by what I’m seeing. She presses another button and the image comes alive.

  “Cami, I know this isn’t easy for you to watch and I’m sorry that it had to come to you this way, but it is the only way I thought I could get you to listen to what I had to say. I never meant to hurt you, and I’m sorry for what I’ve put you through over the years, but I’m certain after you see what I’ve shown you, you can understand why—” Bobby’s image freezes on the screen again.

  There are no words for what I can even try to say to comfort her, and I can hear her sobbing on the couch, so I forgo the cleanup and go to the couch to sit down next to her. I’m wearing boots, and the glass crunches further beneath my feet. “He’s apologizing to you, is that why you’re so upset? Because it came in video form and not from him?” I ask her, and she vigorously shakes her head.

  “Look,” she says and points to the TV. I look, but all I can see is Bobby on the screen. And then it registers what she’s pointing at. Down in the bottom right-hand corner is the running time of the video, along with a date and time stamp.

  Sat. 06/02/2012 16:36

  “Holy SHIT!” I shout and stand up. The image on the screen begins to move.

  “I know telling you I’m sorry has come too late, and over a video, but if you’d give me the chance, I’d like to apologize in person.” Nothing more is said, but I watch as Bobby holds up a picture in front of the camera.

  It’s a picture of a very beautiful ranch house — two stories, a rustic brown color with a wraparound porch. Behind the house there is fencing, and a horse can be seen beyond the fence. Beyond the house and the land around it are snow-covered mountains.

  “I hope you remember where this is.” The image on the screen goes black and then turns blue.

  I’m stunned into complete and utter silence, immobilized by what I’ve just witnessed.

  FIVE

  ******

  Cami

  ******

  “Cami,” Beau shouts from down the stairs.

  “Shit!” Tristan exclaims. “Does she know about this?” His voice is angry, as it should be. If I hadn’t broken my glass when he scared the hell out of me, I’d have thrown it against the wall. Again.

  I can’t answer him, so all I do is shake my head.

  “Jesus Christ, Cameron.” I hear Beau from behind me. “What the hell is going on?” She comes around the side of the couch but she stops when she steps on a piece of glass and it crunches under her foot.

  I don’t look at her. “I need another glass.”

  “Like hell you do. How long have you been on this couch?” Beau exclaims. My eyes move to hers, and she can tell immediately that I’m hammered. And I could care less.

  “Fine, I’ll get it myself.” I slide to the end of the couch and put my feet down.

  “No, don’t!” His words come too late and I hear the crunch, but the pain doesn’t follow. “Shit, Cams,” Tristan says as he picks my feet up off of the floor. I can see bright red blood dripping from my foot.

  A flurry of things happen all at once, but I’m too drunk to follow them. Before too long, I have a towel wrapped around my foot and Tristan is bending down to pick me up off of the couch.

  “Dammit! Stop, put me down.”

  “Forget it. You’re going to the hospital.”

  “Fuck that,” I say, and I try to squirm out of his arms.

  “Stop it. Right now, Cameron.”

  I look at him, blood-red rage swarming my vision. “Don’t you EVER call me Cameron, EVER AGAIN!” I shout at him. But he ignores me.

  “Mick, get over here, right now. Cami’s cut her foot and she needs to go to the hospital.” I turn to look behind Tristan and Beau is on her cell phone.

  “I’ll drive myself.”

  “Like hell you will,” she yells at me. “Tristan is here. Judging from the fact that I nearly tripped on his bag, I’m assuming he came home and found her like this. She’s drunk.” She stops talking to listen to whoever she’s talking to. I forgot and I don’t give a shit. Tristan is taking me around the corner to the elevator.

  “Come on, Beau, I need you to show me how to get to the hospital.”

  “Coming.”

  “No fucking hospital.” I squirm again in Tristan’s arms.

  “You don’t have a choice.” He’s angry with me.

  “What the fuck did I do?” Though the words sound fine in my head, the look of confusion on his beautiful face tells me otherwise.

  ******

  Tristan

  ******

  I start pacing the reception area of the emergency room, waiting for the doctor or Cami to come out. She had several shards of glass in the bottom of her foot. They weren’t as deep as the amount of blood had originally suggested, but the pieces of glass needed to come out. She’s angry as hell and she kicked both Beau and me out of her room.

  “Did you know about this?” I ask Beau.

  “Yeah, but not what was on it. We were at the condo Tuesday when she got back from taking you to the airport. Mick and I both thought that whatever was in that package was better delivered while you weren’t around. I guess we were wrong.” She gives me an apologetic look. “We stayed quite a while Tuesday night. She kind of went through a chronological list of events that happened in her life, and they were not pretty. She got pretty drunk watching the videos and then at one point she kicked us out and said she was going to bed.” She takes a deep breath. “Neither one of us wanted to leave her, but she insisted she was fine. Yesterday when I talked to her, she was fine, said she was working on a couple of things and that she’d be busy most of the day, so I didn’t question her. I tried calling her more than thirty times between trying to reach her and driving to the condo. I noticed, though, that her cell phone was one of the many shattered things in the living room.”

  “I talked to her this afternoon around twelve thirty, told her that I would be back in the morning. I wanted to surprise her and come home early. I found her on the couch, drunk. I scared her and she dropped her wine glass, which is where all the glass at her feet came from. I was trying to clean it up when she played a video of Bobby.” I pause, remembering the date on the video and finding out that, after more than a year, Bobby is alive.

  “What was o
n the video?” I don’t want to answer that question. I’m not sure if Cami really wants Beau to know, but my expression betrays me and she presses harder. “Damn it, Tristan.... She’s done this before.”

  “At first I thought it was just Bobby apologizing to her for all the wrongs he’d done to her. But she paused the video before I could see more. When I pressed her to talk to me about it, she pointed at the TV, and when I look again I realize, Beau, that that video is date- and time-stamped.” The image is forever burned into my mind.

  “So what did it say?”

  “Saturday, June second, two thousand twelve. Four thirty-six p.m.”

  I don’t say any more — I don’t have to — as I watch her expression begin to change as she is doing the math in her head. The moment she realizes what I’ve just said, her hand comes to her mouth and her eyes widen in fear. I nod, acknowledging what’s just registered, but her hand comes away from her mouth. “It could be an error.” She’s trying to rationalize it, but it won’t work.

  “Of course it could, but it is a very specific time, Bobby looks a little older than I remember, and...” I trail off.

  “What?”

  “She finally played the video again, and he continues apologizing, then says flat-out that if she wants a real-life apology that she should go to some house. Where that is, I have no idea, and I’m not sure if Cami does either.”

  “It’s in Montana, northwest of Billings.”

  Beau and I both turn toward the voice. Mick is standing near the doorway to the emergency room.

  “You knew about this?” Beau asks. Her voice is angry and sharp with Mick.

  “Not until a few minutes ago. I went to the condo before I came here. I noticed that she’d been watching something so I played it.”

  “So you didn’t know he was alive?” I ask him.