Ronni knew all about Zoey, and I knew Ronni was interested in someone else. She was convinced that someday Zoey and I would reconnect, that we were each other’s destiny. I wasn’t holding my breath, but it felt good to have someone to talk about her with since I’d worn out my welcome on the subject matter with my band brothers.
Though we were friendly partners in crime, Ronni and I eventually got tired of the paparazzi and fans being in our business everywhere we went. Individually and together, our photos garnered a lot of money, so we had to carefully plan public outings to either create or avoid pandemonium depending on our team’s publicity goals. It became too contrived and complicated, and we began to hate the bullshit. During a rare extended time when we were both in LA, we decided that the simulated-for-the-press romance wasn’t who we were as people. We gleefully faked a dramatic ending without telling our publicists, thinking we’d be off the hook.
Wrong. Suddenly all of my old booze and sex paparazzi pictures surfaced, and the tabloids made me the “bad guy” heartbreaker again. Ronni felt terrible, but we had no choice but to let it play out. It was a lesson learned, though, because it was only then that I realized how much celebrity media was manufactured and controlled. Or how hungry the press was for celebrities to be built up only to be knocked down. I’d played into it for years. Now it made me sick.
Luckily, a new Justin Bieber scandal hit within a couple of weeks and we became yesterday’s news.
As a sage old man of nearly thirty, with age came perspective. Maybe it was the therapy I’d been attending for the past few years at the urging of the band and Carter. Maybe time healed my wounds. Who knew? I worked through all of it. My mother. My drinking and promiscuity. Zoey. I felt like a grown-up. A man. I was a true version of myself for the first time ever.
With LTZ’s year-long hiatus looming, my plan was to focus on doing something lasting, something bigger than me, bigger than the band and bigger than me and Zoey. Inspired by what Carter had done for me in high school, I spent my free time on the road working out a strategy. It was finally time to execute.
Dressed to the nines in my sweet black-and-gray pinstriped Hugo Boss suit, my hair pulled back into a ponytail, I hooked my Prada sunglasses on my pocket and entered the modern new building in the middle of the downtown area Seattle affectionately called “Amazonia.”
Feeling confident and excited, I took the elevator up the twenty-third floor where Carter greeted me in the gleaming, pristine lobby of Finney Cooper, a big law firm that was putting together the paperwork for my non-profit.
“Welcome home, man!” Carter pulled me into a hug.
“Finally, I’m so excited to finish up everything and take some time off. I feel like I’m about ninety years old in a thirty-year-old body. I never want to see another tour bus again.” I laughed.
“I get it, man. Ah, Ty. It’s so good to see you laughing,” Carter said squinting at me. “Hopefully, I will finally be able to make things right.”
“I have no clue what you are talking about, old man,” I joked, and then got serious. I hugged him again. “I’m so psyched you’re going to help me out with this, I owe everything to you.”
“Yeah, well—Let’s get in there, they are all waiting.” He blew it off and gestured to the conference room to the left of the reception desk, a large room with floor-length windows overlooking the Space Needle and Lake Union.
My plan to establish a music program in every public school in Washington state was going to become a reality. I had the idea, the backing, and a great team. All I needed to do was complete the complicated network of paperwork and then kids who did not excel at academics but had a knack for the arts could have permanent programs to fall back on. Kids like me. I was pumped when I opened the door to the conference room.
“Welcome, Carter. Hello, Mr. Rainier. I’m a big fan, I’m Joe Finney, the founder of Finney Cooper, we have a wonderful presentation for you about the things we have put into place for your foundation. I’d like to introduce you to one of our star associates.”
I’d have recognized her anywhere. It was like all the cells in my body recognized hers. She was wearing a snug, dark-navy suit that accentuated the curve of her ass paired with a white, fitted blouse with what looked to be a blue-floral pattern. Upon further inspection, the flowers were actually abstract skulls. Her blonde hair as wild and beachy as ever but tugged back into a messy bun. Her lips were tinged dark pink, and blue, polka-dot-rimmed reading glasses were perched on her nose. My heart beat furiously. I stared at her and it seemed like time stood still. She still had the same effect on me after all these years. Fuck. Fuckity fuck.
“Zoey.”
At the sound of my voice, she turned from the projector she had been fussing with and we looked at each other for the first time in eight years. The color drained from her face, her eyes wide as saucers.
“Ty?” she questioned, even though she knew it was me. She blinked rapidly in confusion, but she quickly recovered and steadied herself by palming the conference table. With a strong, confident voice she plugged in the projector. “I didn’t realize that you were part of Carter’s project.”
Chapter 9
ZOEY
When I saw Ty in my firm’s conference room, even more gorgeous than I remembered, long hair pulled back and wearing a friggin’ business suit, my first thought was, “What the hell kind of dream am I having?”
My second thought was more
