The Girl He Left Behind. Patricia Kay

her sexy tone. “Then later, I could do something else for you, which I know would make you feel even better.”

      “I’m having problems with this new song,” he said, just as if he hadn’t heard her, “and I was just about to have a breakthrough when you interrupted me.”

      “Oh, you always say you’re having problems.”

      There was something about her airy dismissal of his concerns that nearly pushed him over the edge, but once again, he managed to control himself. Maybe he was being unfair. Just because he was bored with their relationship and wanted out didn’t mean he was allowed to act like a total jerk and be nasty to her. After all, she hadn’t thrown herself into his bed. He’d made the first move. It wasn’t her fault he’d almost immediately known he’d made a huge mistake. So the right thing to do was tell her, straight-out, in a nice way, that from now on their dealings would be strictly business. Then, if she felt she couldn’t handle that change in their status, she would quit on her own. If not, they’d go forward as adults.

      Forcing his voice into a more pleasant tone, he said, “Did you want something, Bethany?”

      “As a matter of fact, I did. I wanted to remind you of your interview with Rolling Stone at seven tonight.”

      “Oh, crap.” He had forgotten all about the interview.

      “Now, Adam, landing the cover story of Rolling Stone is a remarkable coup for you. Coming on top of the People thing just a few months before the launch of your tour and a new album... Well, it’s fabulous!”

      He sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But I hate interviews.”

      “You’ve told me that a hundred times. And as I’ve told you, Aaron can’t do everything for you. There are some things you simply must do yourself.” Gone was the seductress voice. Now Bethany was all business.

      In mentioning Aaron, she was referring to the fact that his youngest brother now functioned as Adam’s alter ego in matters of publicity, especially his online presence. Aaron, who at twenty-five was five years younger than Adam, pretended to be Adam on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram and Pinterest, in responding to various blogs and fan sites, as well as interacting with his fan clubs.

      Adam hated all that garbage. Always had. He didn’t hate his fans, of course—he liked meeting them, especially at concerts—but if he spent all his time online and doing interviews, when would he be able to write his music? All he’d ever wanted was to write and perform, not blow his own horn about how great he was. It still amazed him that anyone cared about all that stuff entertainers posted. Hell, Aaron even told Adam’s followers what he, Adam, had supposedly eaten for breakfast!

      “Yeah, I know he can’t,” he finally said.

      Bethany studied him steadily. “So you won’t try to blow off the interview, right?”

      “I guess not,” he said reluctantly. “But I’ll never change my mind that it’s the music that counts. Not all this other stuff.”

      She rolled her eyes. “I’m tired of this old argument, Adam. Yes, the music is important. Of course it is. But having your name and face out there, connecting with all those people who plunk down their money to buy your music and see your shows is equally important. In the long run, maybe even more important. And Rolling Stone! I mean, you’ve arrived. They hardly ever put a country star on their cover. The fact they want you means they consider you a crossover artist, and isn’t that what you wanted?”

      Before he could answer, his cell rang and he saw it was Austin calling.

      “Gotta take this,” he said, waving Bethany off.

      Accepting the call, he said, “Hey, bro. What’s up? Thought you were gonna send over that contract.”

      “I am. I will. But something’s happened,” Austin said.

      “Oh?”

      “Mom’s had a heart attack.”

      “What?” Adam stood. “When?”

      Bethany, alerted by his tone, frowned and got off his desk.

      “Right after I texted you, she collapsed. I called 911 and I’m riding in the ambulance on the way to the hospital right now. They’ve got her stabilized but it’s pretty serious. I think you need to come.”

      “Of course. You’re sure she’s gonna be okay?”

      “They think so, but we’ll see what the docs say when we get there.”

      “Okay. Keep me posted. I’ll try to get out on a flight tonight.”

      “What?” Bethany said when he hung up. “What do you mean, get out on a flight tonight? You have that interview tonight, Adam!”

      “This is more important.” He quickly explained what Austin had told him.

      Bethany opened her mouth, probably to protest, but closed it again when she saw the look on his face. She sighed wearily. “Okay, I’ll call Rolling Stone and explain. Hopefully they can postpone the interview for a few days and still make their deadline.”

      “Don’t make any promises. I have no idea how long I’ll be gone.” Adam was already packing up the stuff on his desk that he wanted to take with him.

      “What do you mean? Surely you won’t be gone that long.”

      His voice hardened. “I said, don’t make any promises. I’ll call you when I know my mother’s condition.”

      “I could come with you...” she said hopefully. “I can take care of everything from—”

      “It’s better if I go alone,” he said, cutting her off.

      “But—”

      Ignoring her, he strode out to the hallway where his secretary, Donna, had a desk. “Donna, get me on a flight to Austin tonight, however you can. And I’ll need a rental car when I get there.” Unfortunately, his personal plane was down for repairs.

      “Okay.”

      “I’ll be upstairs packing. Oh, and get me some cash, too, will you?”

      Because he knew she expected it, and because he was in no mood for any kind of scene right now, he told Bethany goodbye, dropped a hasty kiss on her lips and said he’d be in touch.

      Then he headed up to his bedroom to begin preparing for his first trip home to Crandall Lake since the day twelve years ago when he’d boarded the bus that had brought him here to Nashville—and success beyond his wildest dreams.

      * * *

      Eve drove slowly home after dropping the twins at Bill’s. It was always a wrench to see them leave. Sharing custody with him by alternating weeks was the fairest thing to do, she knew that, but just because it was fair didn’t mean she had to love it. She missed the twins when they were gone. Okay, so they were only fifteen minutes away, just on the other side of Crandall Lake, but the truth was, they might as well have been on the moon in comparison to where they lived with her.

      After the divorce, Eve had stayed in the starter home she and Bill had bought a few months after they were married. Well, he’d bought it. She certainly hadn’t had any money to contribute. She was only eighteen and barely out of high school. He was twenty-two and had been working at a good job for almost a year, ever since his graduation from college. The house was a small ranch style with three bedrooms, two baths and an attached garage. The only thing that made it different from its neighbors was the front porch Bill had paid extra to have added because he knew how much she loved having a front porch with a swing. Although the neighborhood was quiet and nice, it wasn’t anything special, and it was on the wrong side of town in terms of prestige.

      Bill and his new family, on the other hand, lived in the most fashionable part of Crandall Lake, right near the park and the river. Their home was a stately five-bedroom Colonial on a heavily wooded lot. There was a beautiful pool and they even had a tennis court.