All of Me by Tiffany Patterson

Chapter 29

Lena

Weeks after Gabe’s birthday, I awakened with a question on my mind.

What next?

What was I going to do now that I was close to finishing this album? I contemplated that thought as I turned over in the bed, inhaling Gabe’s scent in the sheets. My heart squeezed as both love and dread filled my belly.

Since that night, Gabe told me every day how much he loved me. I’d heard those three words before, but coming from him, it felt like a present wrapped up in a bow every time he said them. My muse had become my lover, my best friend, and possibly my future.

But I was delaying finishing the album. Completing it would mean I’d have to leave Texas. There were some musical artists that I wanted to feature on a few songs. Once complete, there was the inevitable meeting with the label, followed by promotional work and eventually a tour.

As happy as I was to nearing the completion of this album, I dreaded it just as much.

While I missed performing, my heart was torn about the idea of leaving Gabriel. Could what we built survive my hectic career?

I sat up and pushed the covers away, finally willing myself to get out of bed. Coffee was the first thing on my agenda once I entered the kitchen. A smile touched my lips when I saw the note Gabe left taped to the microwave for me.

Breakfast is in the oven. You better eat before you start working.

Love you,

Wolf

Short, sweet, and sort of demanding. Just like the guy who wrote it. I pulled the oven door open to find one of his Belgian waffles and crispy bacon sitting on an oven-safe plate. He’d left it on low to keep my food warm.

“What did I do to find you?” I sang. It was a piece of the chorus from one of the songs for the album I’d written.

My phone rang as I sat down at the table. When I looked at the name displayed on the screen, I groaned.

“Good morning, Daddy,” I answered, trying to sound joyful to answer his call.

“It’s been so long since I heard your voice.”

I pulled my phone from my ear to check the number on the display screen again. It read my father’s name.

“Nate, how did you get my father’s phone?”

Nate laughed on the other end. “What? You don’t even want to say hello?”

“Why do you have my father’s phone?”

“He let me borrow it for a few days,” he answered.

“What?” That didn’t make sense.

“Yeah, when I was in New York, I told your parents all about how you’re still ignoring my calls,” Nate explained. “Your father insisted I use his phone to call you.”

It sounded like something my father would do. Even though I’d specifically told both my parents that I didn’t want to talk to Nate.

“Why are you calling me?” I asked impatiently.

“The hell do you mean, why am I calling you? You have an album due, and I know you got that new contract I had to send through your assistant.”

“I told you I would reach out to the label when the album was done.”

“No, Lena. You know that’s not how we do shit. What do you mean done? How are you done when you haven’t worked with any producers? No one has arranged any of the songs. No one has even seen these fucking songs.” His voice grew louder with each statement.

“I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

“No,” he said before I could hang up. “How about you come to see me now?”

I let out a laugh, but there was no humor in it. “I’m not getting on a plane to fly to New York.”

“Who said anything about New York?”

My hold on the phone tightened.

“Or Los Angeles.” Maybe my parents had flown out to LA for some reason to meet up with Nate. I wanted to believe that, but again, Nate’s following comment stopped that line of thinking before I could fully conceive it.

“Or you can bring your ass down to The Tavern in the next thirty minutes.”

My mouth fell open. If Nate knew about The Tavern, that meant he was in Harlington.

“Wh-h-how did you know?”

“I know you didn’t think I couldn’t find out where you were.” He let out a chuckle. “Hiding down here in Texas and then showing off that white boy in my fucking face.”

“I wasn’t showing off anything, and I damn sure don’t do shit for your attention.”

“Yeah, if you say so. Be down here at eleven o’clock. Unless you want me to show up at his house where you’re staying.”

Nate didn’t let me respond before he hung up the phone. So many questions ran through my mind. First of them being, How in the hell did he find out where I was?

I debated about what to do. I didn’t want to meet with him face-to-face, but I didn’t even want to try to call his bluff and have him come over to Gabe’s house. I could only imagine how that would turn out.

If Gabe came home to see Nate here, World War III was likely to break out, and I was certain Nate would end up on the losing side of that battle.

Though I despised him, I didn’t want to see him hurt. My only wish was for him to go the hell away. If making that come true meant meeting him at The Tavern, so be it.

* * *

Almost an hourafter Nate’s call, I walked into The Tavern, darting my gaze from one side to the other, searching out Nate.

He had the nerve to rise from his chair and wave at me with a massive grin on his face. My stomach rumbled with nausea as I stared across the room at him.

“How many will be dining today?” the hostess asked.

“H-He’s here already,” I told the young woman and pointed across the room.

She held out her hand for me to pass toward the table where Nate stood, but I had to talk my feet into actually moving. I reminded myself it was either this or have Nate show up at Gabe’s house. This was the better alternative.

“I started to wonder if you were going to show up,” he said as I approached.

I arrived fifteen minutes late, hoping that he’d somehow disappear before I came.

“What are you doing in Texas?” I hissed at him.

A hurt look covered his face. But it was bullshit. I’d seen that look so many times. I knew he was acting. “Damn, you can’t even sit and have brunch with me?”

“I’ve eaten already.”

“Sit down, Lena,” he ordered, his voice much sterner.

Fuck you. The words stopped dead on my tongue. I wouldn’t make a scene. In all likelihood, that was what Nate wanted. Another scene, so someone in the restaurant could record it and put it online. Then he could go and do another interview about how crazy and unstable I was.

I refused to give him that satisfaction.

Calmly, I sat across from him. I even went so far as to pick up the off-white linen napkin that held my utensils, unwrapping it and placing it on my lap.

Our waitress approached. “Good morning,” she greeted with a concerned smile on her face. “My name is Jude and I’ll be your waitress today. Can I get you started with some drinks?”

With a smile, I ordered a cup of green tea and an orange juice. Nate ordered some expensive rum drink they had.

Once our waitress left, I peered across the table at Nate, who looked a little confused by my actions. Yet, he quickly gathered himself and leaned his elbows into the table.

“How’ve you been, Lena?”

I gave him the biggest smile I could muster. “Never better. How about you, Nathaniel?” I asked, using his full name.

He winced.

A shot of joy raced through me. He always hated his full name because it was his father’s. My using it was the fuck you that I couldn’t say.

He grunted. “I’ve seen you look better.” Typical Nate, to get at least one insult in, within the first five minutes of a conversation.

His words didn’t get to me like they used to.

“Do you have an album for me to listen to?” he asked.

“It’s close to completion.” I paused and smiled at the waitress who brought our beverages.

He snorted. “We’ll see about that.”

I wanted to ask him what that was supposed to mean, but I wasn’t interested in any more of his mind games.

“When are you coming back home?” he suddenly asked.

I wrinkled my forehead. “Home? You mean to my condo?”

He narrowed his eyes. “I meant what I said. It’ll take me some damn time, but eventually, I can find it in my heart to forgive you for fucking around with that white boy.”

“What are you talking about?” Indeed, he couldn’t be implying that he wanted us to get back together.

“Don’t give me that shit, Lena. You know where home is, and we’ve got business to take care of. I let you stay away for as long as I could after that video and the bullshit.”

“Which video, Nate?” I hissed, becoming angrier than I wanted. “The video of you fucking another woman while we were engaged or the video of me setting your shit on fire? Which someone you probably hired put on the internet.”

His nostrils flared in anger. “That shit wasn’t on me. There wouldn’t be a video if you didn’t burn my shit.”

“You know what?” I held up my hands and waved them in the air. “It’s all water under the bridge. Both videos were a good thing since they forced me to realize there was no way of ever salvaging our relationship. Once this album is released, there is no need for you and me ever to speak again. Any business we have left over can be discussed between our attorneys.”

He let out a laugh filled with derision and loud enough that a few nearby patrons glanced our way.

I got the sense that it was time to end this conversation before things got carried away.

Nate moved in closer to the table. “Listen, Lena. I didn’t come down here to fuck around with you. We need that album, and you need to bring your ass back to LA. We’ve got work to do, and you have a contract to sign.”

I snorted. “Have you not been listening to me? The last thing I’m going to do is re-sign with your label, beholding myself and my career to you for another fucking decade.”

That would be a hell no.

I started to get up to walk out, having felt like this was a complete waste of my time, but Nate grabbed my wrist tightly, keeping me from leaving. At that exact moment, our waitress approached our table to ask if we were ready to order.

I saw her gaze drop to Nate's hand around my wrist. Worriedly, she glanced up at me, and I smiled at her. Slowly, I sat back down. Nate released my wrist.

“We need a few more minutes,” Nate said to the waitress but glared at me.

I watched her walk off.

“You’re not going any fucking where until I say so,” Nate threatened through gritted teeth.

“I know it’s been a while since we’ve had a whole conversation, but you’ve lost your mind if you think you can speak to me like that. Or put your damned hands on me,” I growled.

He blinked and pulled away from the table slightly. He held up his hands. “My fault.”

I relaxed, but not by much.

“But listen to this,” he said with a gleam in his eyes. “You will hand over that album soon, and you will sign that new contract.” He held up his hands when I opened my mouth to speak. “Because I would hate for anyone to find out the shady shit your boyfriend is up to with his business.”

Words clogged my throat.

“Wh-What are you talking about?”

Nate’s top lip curled upward, and he glanced around before his dark eyes landed on me again.

“Yeah, your white boy, Gabriel, is into all kinds of shit with his company.” A grin spread across his face, but it held only malice. There was no humor in it at all. “Let me show you something.”

He retrieved his phone and scrolled to something before he turned the screen to me. “I’ll play it with the volume off since we’re in public.” He hit the play button on the video.

It was blurry at first, but then I recognized the room. A darkened cement basement dwelling with piping along the walls. A crowd cheered for two people in the center. The video zoomed in, and front and center stood Eli fighting with some guy.

“Let’s forward this baby up to the best part,” Nate said, sounding too cheerful. He turned the phone my way again, and it showed Gabriel in that underground fighting ring. It was from that night I went with him to get Eli out of there.

“Illegal fighting.” Nate tutted and shook his head as he turned off the video. “I bet the professional leagues would love to get their hands on this video. To find your white boy illegally betting with his client, too.” Nate let out a sardonic chuckle.

“You son of a bitch,” I whispered.

Another phony frown. “Ouch.” But soon, his expression turned cold. “Serves his ass right for coming to my fucking studio in LA and threatening me. And you for sending him.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, feeling lost.

“Don’t play that bullshit, Lena,” he warned. “He came up in my studio threatening me about you, and you sat here in Texas thinking you got over on me.” He shook his head.

“No, fuck that. Here’s the deal. You’re going to break up with your boyfriend, or else every sports paper in this country will be running articles on how your boy is involved in illegal betting.

“How he sets all of his athletes up for these bets and makes money off of it. His business will dry up faster than the California desert during fire season. And you’ll bring your ass back to LA, finish that album, and sign your new contract.”

Nate stood up and slid his phone into his pocket. I could barely keep my face neutral as I stared at the smug grin on his face.

“I’ll give you one week. Seven days to get it done, Lena. I’ll be waiting on you in Los Angeles.”

He glared down at me.

Our waitress approached.

“Oh, you know what?” Nate asked, snapping at the waitress. “I decided against this place for brunch. I heard they had better shrimp and grits across the street.” Nate peered down at me again. “She’s got the tab for the drinks.”

After that, the bastard strolled out of the restaurant.

I sat there in a daze. Even after I handed the waitress my credit card to pay for the drinks we’d ordered. Over and over, I ran the different scenarios in my head.

I could ignore Nate’s threats and dare him to follow through with his bluff. But I knew he wasn’t bluffing. I knew this could get bad for Gabriel and his company.

If Nate knew it, then he would use it against Gabriel if he had to.

I ran my hand across my forehead, knowing I was the only thing that stood in between saving Gabe’s business and Nate’s complete and total disregard for anyone but himself.

I’d brought this into Gabriel’s life. Even though I thought I managed to escape it, I’d brought drama into Gabe’s world. His mere association with me had put his business and livelihood in harm’s way.

There was only one way I could fix this. I would have to go along with Nate’s wishes.