Well, that’s an interesting turn of events. Jackie knows when the woman breathes wrong, keeping her on a tight leash and an even tighter schedule of appearances, new releases, and what she callsbrand-building moments.
So she’s not here as a punishment. If I take a moment to think about what she said when she saw me, I don’t think sheeven knew I was here. According to her, she’s here to relax and write her next album, to lay low somewhere new. The too-familiar grip of my anxiety around my chest starts to loosen, and I take in a deep breath, trying to think rationally.
Willa is here, but I’m overreacting. It’s not a big deal. How much of a problem could she be? Hell, I bet she’s less likely to get hounded by the paparazzi in a middle-of-nowhere town than in the city. Maybe this will actually work in my favor.
“Fine. But can you please stay out of trouble while you’re here?”
She blinks at me once, twice, three times before she speaks, confusion in the words. “Stay out of trouble?”
“I came here to avoid work, and you’ve followed me here. The least you can do is make it so I don’t have to swoop in and clean up any messes you make.”
Again, silence and staring before she speaks, her words slow and chosen meticulously.
“What messes of mine have you had to clean?”
I stare at her, confused for a moment, and that confusion only deepens when I take in the foreign expression on her face. It looks like it’s not just foreign for me to see, but for her to feel, as well. It looks so out of place that it takes me a moment to realize what it is I’m actually seeing: utter irritation. Frustration.Anger.
Willa Stone is standing in front of me, hands on her hips,angryat me.
“You can’t think of one. Because I might have a lot going on and put work on your plate, but Ineverget into trouble. I follow the plan, I do what you say—whateveryonesays—and you never have to come in andclean up my messes.” Her face is going a bit red now, her words coming out faster. “I’m not some headache, going out to bars and dancing on tables and getting hammered. I’ve never even been drunk, because it wouldn’t fit thebrand.”She steps closer, poking me in the chest, and I stand there, completely silent.
The woman in front of me is not America’s sweetheart; she isn’t the delicate flower that the world sees, the loveable girl the world can’t help but fall for. The woman in front of me is not the yes-woman who agrees to everything everyone says. She’s not fragile or quiet or meek.
She’s fierce. She’s strong.
She’s fucking beautiful.
It’s the woman I met in a coffee shop years ago.
“But don’t you worry, Leo. I won’t get into any trouble, and if I do, I won’t make it your problem.”
I’m still in awe when she turns on her heel, her jaw tight, and I try not to watch her as she goes. I try to ignore the way her long ponytail swags along her shoulder blades, exposed by the backless sports top she’s wearing with some kind of halter neck. I try not to wonder if I’ve ever seen her this casual—even in her press photos on her way in and out of the expensive Pilates classes she takes, she’s done up, makeup on, hair perfect, those annoying blue contacts in place.
“Looks like you’ve got your hands full with that one,” a voice says, knocking me from my dazed state, and when I turn, Madden is walking toward me, hands in his pockets, a grin on his lips.
“What?”
“Willa. She’s a handful.” I shake my head.
“Not my handful.”
The smirk on his lips turns into a full-blown grin, clearly not buying what I’m selling.
“Sure, she’s not,” he says, slapping a hand to my shoulder. “I forget this is how this always starts.” With one last laugh and a shake of his head, he walks away to where Wren is calling his name.
I don’t bother to ask what he means—something tells me I wouldn’t love his answer.
EIGHT
WILLA
Even though I’ve received at least three different offers for dinner, I politely decline Hallie, Wren,andNat’s offers, telling them I’m planning to just hang out and settle in for the night.
And while that’s the truth, it’s not completely the truth.
The real truth is that I need time to decompress and be alone after nearly two full days of excitement, and maybe, hopefully, possibly, write something.
Unfortunately, when I sit down to write, nothing comes.
