That familiar pit swirls in my stomach, knowing that with a new album will come a new tour.
“I have tour–”
“And I will come to every one I can.”
My brows furrow, and I shake my head.
“I can’t expect you?—”
Leo rolls his eyes and sighs, and from the sound, I know he thinks I’m being stubborn.
“I’m your publicist, Willa. It’s not like you’re asking me to do anything outside of my job description.”
He does, in fact, have a point there. Mentally, I picture Leo and Jackie battling the entire tour, Jackie trying to cater to Willa Stone, the pop star and performer, and Leo determined to keep his Willa,Just Willa, happy, healthy, and sane. The idea actually makes me smile a bit.
“And then we’ll spend every free minute down here, being us. You’ll be Just Willa, and I’ll be relaxed Leo, and we’ll have nights at the Mill and summer days working on your garden, and you’ll decorate this place until it’s exactly what you want.”
The way he says it all makes sense, and it’s the knowledge that settles inside of me, the knowledge that not only are we both on the same page, but we’re both determined to make it work. That the next year might be one of growing pains as we wrap up one era of our lives in order to start the new one, but we’re both okay with that because we have our eyes on the prize: our future together.
“We’re really going to make this work, aren’t we?” I ask in a whisper, an uncontrollable grin spreading across my face with the realization. He presses his lips to mine once more before settling his forehead to mine.
“We’re going to have it all, honey. Always.”
Those are the words that tide me over the rest of the night as I fall asleep in his arms and as I get ready the following morning. They move through my mind as, for the first time in months, I put my Willa Stone shield on, realizing that it no longer fits perfectly, the facade feeling a bit like a shirt that shrank a bit in the wash after months of growing into the louder, more colorful version of myself. When I stare in the mirror, despite my hair being a bit darker, I see Willa Stone, the pop star, staring back, and despite spending nearly ten years as her, she’s no longer as familiar as she once was. The dress I’m wearing today is not the one Jackie sent me, but a slight twist on my normal color palette that Nat helped me pick out last week, a subtle hint at the colorsthat will be on the next album. A fun easter egg for fans on my first sighting in months.
Because, despite what I need to present to the world today, I am not the same girl who fled to Holly Ridge three months ago.
“Ready?” Leo asks from beside the bedroom, and I turn to look at him over my shoulder. He, too, is different from the man I’m used to seeing, hair combed neatly back instead of mussed, one of his hot as fuck suits on, expensive leather shoes instead of work boots. But now, there’s a soft look in his eyes and a smile I know he saves just for me.
“Yeah, give me a sec,” I say, then reach for a lipstick on the counter, one of the brighter pink ones Nat helped me pick out, one far off the Willa Stone color palette, but I swipe it on anyway. And when I smile at the mirror, remembering the beauty I’ve lived since I’ve been here, I smile—the real one, the wonky one, and I find comfort in seeing it.
TWENTY-NINE
LEO
The next morning, Willa gets ready before we drive to the city together. During the drive, I hold her hand and savor these last quiet moments. We’re both silent, lost in our thoughts. Last night, I saw the panic on her face, and not for the first time, realized there haven’t been many people by her side—people who wanted to make sure she got what she wanted in life, even if it meant temporary discomfort for themselves.
Like so many times in these past three months, I’m determined and excited to give her that first. I’m not eager to watch her flirt with someone I’ve found—through investigation—to be a genuine asshole, though any reputation could be fixed by someone as sweet as Willa. But Willa is committed to honoring her promises, staying reliable and easy to work with, so I know this relationship is strictly business for her. For me, it's another chance to show I’ll always support her.
It takes us about an hour to get to the city, and when I stop outside of the building, there’s a decent-sized crowd waiting. I realize that Jackie or maybe Jefferson must have leaked that Willa would be here today to start her reappearance with a bang. Irritation moves through me, since no one ran this decision pastme, and from Willa’s wide eyes, I can tell no one gave her a heads-up either. I give her one last squeeze of her hand before finally, regretfully, letting go and putting the car in park. Gabe is already walking towards Willa’s door, and I step out, key in hand, to hand over to Willa’s bodyguard as planned.
“Good to see you, Willa,” Gabe says, offering a genuine smile as he helps her out. I fight the urge to intervene. I like Gabe—a detail assigned by Jaime, and I reviewed his resume before approving the swap, so I know he’s qualified. He and Willa have a good rapport, but a new possessiveness tugs at me as she takes his hand to get out of the car.
That should be me.
As quickly as it comes, I stuff that thought down. It’s not helpful right now, and I have to stay focused on the task at hand: getting Willa inside with Gabe’s help. The crowd starts cheering, thankfully keeping the path to the door clear, and I watch as Willa’s shoulders straighten and Gabe leads her towards the door. I’ve seen this a hundred times before, every time there is a group of paparazzi waiting for her. She’s a pro, stopping and moving slowly, constantly aware of her face and making sure each paparazzi gets the photo they came for.
Except that’s not what happens.
Instead, she freezes.
Her body stiffens, and she stands for a moment, a smile on her lips that looks glowing but is actually hesitant. She shifts, her body freezing in the slightest way before she turns to Gabe, who is a step or two behind her. He steps forward instantly, and Gabe whispers something I can’t hear, but when his face transforms a bit and nods, something grows cold inside of me.
Something happened.
Something is wrong.
Gabe moves so he’s close behind her, blocking her as best as he can. Cameras snap. Their flashes are blinding. People waitingcall Willa’s name, trying to get her attention, but I drown it out. I watch Gabe guide her along, faster than normal. Willa’s shoulders are tight. Her head turns just a bit, her smile stiff for the cameras, as if she can’t bear to give them anything. The light has left her eyes. My steps speed. Panic spills into my stomach as I try to school my face and get inside with her.
