“What exactly are you doing?”
“Packing.”
“Whoa!” He held his hand out to stop Warner from going up the stairs. “What’s this about?”
“It’s just best. I think we’ve made a mistake here and I’m just fixing it.”
He tried to move past Christian, but he was quick. In a split second Christian had a hold of the front of Warner’s shirt.
“Clara is kicking you out?”
“No. I’m leaving on my own.”
“She didn’t tell me this. If she’d have kicked you out we’d all be here helping you pack. What the hell is going on?”
Warner bit down on the inside of his cheek. He didn’t like to call people out, but this called for desperate measures.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and showed Christian the pictures that had been sent.
Christian took a step back. “There has to be some mistake. Clara wouldn’t…”
“Clara obviously did.” He started back up the stairs and Christian followed.
“Man, this isn’t right. We were not raised like this.”
“Ya know, I’m tired of hearing how amazing the Keller family is. It looks like at least one of you made a mistake. Is that such a shocker?”
“Don’t do that. You haven’t talked to her have you?”
“No. When I called last night she didn’t answer and now I know why.”
Christian ran his hand over the top of his head. “Dude, this isn’t how she rolls.”
“It’s not how I roll either.” Warner gathered his toiletries and threw them into a box. “In fact, I shared with her everything I had ever done. I laid my whole life on the line for judgment and this is what I get in return. I don’t know why I thought this would be any different.”
He pushed past Christian and down the stairs. This time Christian didn’t follow. He guessed he knew even his infallible sister might make a mistake too.
***
Clara couldn’t get on stage fast enough. She hadn’t talked to Warner all day and she just wanted this show over so she could get home and see her husband.
She’d slept on Patricia’s words all night and they just didn’t add up. Somewhere deep down Clara knew she was lying about the baby.
If Warner knew anything about it, or even if it wasn’t his, he was the kind of man who would have taken care of her. He wouldn’t have let her stay and die.
“Clara! Clara!” Trent was running toward her.
“What? I’m going out.”
“Don’t you leave this arena until we are done. Do you understand?”
“Yeah,” she said softly as she reached for her guitar. “Are you okay?”
“No I’m not okay. I’m so pissed right now I can’t see straight. And you’re going to get this fixed or so help me…”
They announced her. She had to go. But what was he talking about?
Clara nearly stumbled out onto the stage, looking back to see Trent there with his hands fisted on his hips and his eyes narrowed on her.
She put on her smile and looked out into the arena. The filled seats were fewer than the shows before. Was word spreading that the girl and her guitar just weren’t worth getting to the arena early enough for?
She’d done a radio interview earlier that day and warded off three different Patricia Little questions when they were asked. How did Warner manage to do that day to day?
Clara began her set and the few people in front of the stage were even singing along. Okay, the guy from the radio did say someone had posted her on YouTube.
The seating picked up as she cruised through her set, but Trent still stood on the side glaring at her. What could she have possibly done?
When her set was done she waved to the crowed, which had nearly doubled in size. There was no set to tear down for her so The Broke Tourists stood waiting for their turn. Each of them narrowed their stare on her.
“I know you want to rush home to your husband, but if you’re not standing right here when I get off stage I’ll hunt you down.”
The band was announced and they headed out to a thunderous applause. Their second single was racing up the charts and the crowd wanted to see them. But what was the mystery?
Tom Wheeler headed her way as she placed her guitar in its case.
“Sounded good.”
Clara forced a smile. “Thank you.”
“Listen, you’ve got a PR nightmare brewing. It needs to get handled quickly. You need representation and you need it quick.”
“What does that mean exactly?”
“Consider working with me. I’d like to manage you, but then I could get a grip on this for you.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Tom pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and handed it to her. “These were released to TMZ today. Wife of new reality TV show star who happens to be the stepson of Patricia Little seen in a compromising position with another married band mate.”
“Oh God!” She scrolled through the pictures on the website. “That’s not what happened at all. I didn’t do anything wrong. He was just…”
“No one wants to know just… They want to assume you ran off and married Patricia Little’s stepson, toured with her lead artist, and then cheated on him. That’s what they want to think.”
“But I didn’t. I didn’t know her name would be associated with the tour and I didn’t cheat on anyone.”
Tom ran his tongue over his teeth and set a hand on her shoulder as he took the phone from her. “There’s a car waiting for you outside. Get on a plane and get home. Be back to work on Wednesday with an answer for me on my representation for you. We need to get this nipped quick.”
“This is why Trent is pissed at me?”
“He thinks you set him up. His wife is pregnant you know.”
“I know. Oh, I didn’t do this.”
He nodded. “We’ll get it handled.”
Clara knew she should have waited for Trent. She owed him that kind of consideration. But she was flying back to Nashville and if she could get out and push the plane any faster she would.
She had, however, sent him a message apologizing for any damage done. She didn’t know about the pictures and they were innocent. Nothing had happened. Of course he knew that, but now his name was tarnished.