The Crazy One Read online

  The door had swung partway open before it dawned on me who was on the other side. Joni was looking at me with confusion on her face.

  "Do you have a roommate?" she asked.

  I shook my head, then hopped up from my stool as the man appeared. Joni gasped and spilled a little red wine on my granite counter.

  "Beau Castle," she squealed, but didn't move another inch. She seemed to be frozen to her seat.

  And there he was, my ex-boyfriend wearing his biggest smile and tightest t-shirt and dangling a key to my apartment from one finger.

  "Surprise," he said and held his hands out to me. I only stared at him, still holding my wine glass. He walked over and hugged me, but my arms never moved. I was stunned.

  "What are you doing here?" I must have hissed the words like a snake because he laughed. He always loved getting a reaction out of me.

  "Hi," he said, sticking his hand out to Joni. "I'm Beau."

  "I know," she squeaked. "What are you doing here?"

  "Well," he said with mock outrage. "I used to kind of live here. In fact, there's my picture over..." He motioned to the end table where I used to keep a framed picture of the two of us. "Aw, there was a picture of me right there. Where did the picture go, Luce?"

  I was still staring at him. My heart was pounding practically out of my chest. When we broke up, Beau had told me that because the apartment had been a gift he would sign it over to me. I'd asked for his key, but since he still technically owned the place the property manager insisted he have full access. We had agreed he could keep the key until the paperwork was finished, but he wouldn't use it. That was months ago. Why was he standing in my kitchen now?

  "Wait." Joni was trying to piece it all together. "This was your apartment?"

  "Technically it still is," he replied, eyeing me pointedly.

  "It's our apartment. Temporarily." I was trying not to get upset, but I was sure my face was becoming fire-engine red.

  "That's true." Beau poured himself a glass of wine. "It was a gift for Lucy." He stepped back over beside me and put his free hand on my shoulder. "She deserves the best."

  Joni began to ask another question, but I quickly interrupted her. I wasn't interested in the two of them getting to know each other.

  "Beau, what are you doing here?"

  "I wasn't busy, so I thought I'd pop over from Nashville and see how things are going. Is this a bad time?"

  Joni shook her head. She was clearly star-struck. I was annoyed.

  "Yes," I countered. "It's very bad."

  A million thoughts raced through my mind. What if someone spotted him in town? It would surely make the news like every other celebrity sighting in Omaha. What if Joel found out? He had to know Beau wouldn't come here for any reason but to see me. Worse yet, what if Joel showed up right at this moment? What if he had the idea to surprise me, too? I began to panic. I had to sit down. I sunk into the yellow couch, and Beau followed. Joni perched on the edge of the armchair next to him.

  "Are you one of the judges?" Joni asked. Beau gave her a quizzical look. I buried my head in my hands.

  "For the show?" She gave Beau a brief rundown of the show and, of course, added Joel's name into the mix.

  "Oh." Beau leaned back and was quiet. I looked at him and shook my head.

  "You didn't know?" Joni's face dropped. "I guess you probably don't follow stuff like that."

  He looked at me. "Are you still seeing him?"

  Beau and I hadn't talked much since our breakup. But one night he had called to talk and play the role of the loneliest rock star. It had sounded like he wanted to get back together, so I'd told him about my date with Joel. He didn't seem to mind and had laughed it off. Maybe he'd thought it was a passing thing, or that I could never go for a guy like Joel Ruskin after tasting the fast life with Beau Castle.

  When it became clear she was in the middle of a heavy situation, Joni excused herself. She was going to meet her friends at the bar. I apologized that I wouldn't be able to join them. She told Beau a few times how much she loved his music, and then rushed out the door.

  "When's he going to be in town?"

  "Saturday, probably."

  "I'm sorry, Lucy. I really didn't know—about the show or about the two of you. Is it serious?"

  "Jeez, Beau. We've only been on a few dates." I stood up and paced in front of him.

  "Here in Omaha?"

  "Yes. And New York."

  Recognition flashed in his eyes, like he remembered our last phone conversation. Now he was getting it. Hopefully he was getting it right.

  "You don't think that's serious?"

  "Was it serious when I went to Nashville to visit you?"

  His face fell. I’d hurt his feelings. I didn’t mean to, but he hadn’t always been worried about mine.

  "I thought so. Serious enough to get you out of that old crappy apartment." He waved his hands around like he was showing the place off. It was a jab to my heart. We'd had an open relationship. That was my idea. I knew a relationship with a touring rock star was open on his end no matter what we said to each other. I preferred not to play games. He had bought the apartment because I was ashamed of mine, and he didn't want to stay in a hotel when he came to visit. It was an arrangement that worked.

  Until it didn't.

  "Besides," he added. "You didn't want serious."

  I nodded. When I went to the bedroom to wipe my brewing tears, he followed me. He touched my shoulder, and my heart nearly exploded. I missed him. I missed everything about being alone with him. I didn't miss the drama or the jealousy I that consumed me when we weren't alone.

  "We're over, Beau." I tried to keep my voice from quivering. "You agreed to that. You didn't fight it."

  "If you love someone," Beau said quietly, "set them free. Right?"

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "I let you go," he said in the saddest tone I'd ever heard from him. "You were supposed to come back to me."

  I sniffled and busied my hands, fixing nothing on my nightstand. I hated the mixed emotions that brewed in me when he was around. How dare he come here and try to make me want him again?

  "Do you want something serious with him?" He spoke low, as if he was forcing himself to ask the question.

  "I don't know yet."

  Beau came closer to me and I finally turned to him. His hand traveled over my collar bone and up my neck. With his hand cradling the side of my head, he bent down until his lips were almost touching mine.

  "Don't think about it," he whispered. The heat from his mouth shot through my body and seared my heart. He was irresistible, and he knew it. Finally, he took my agony away with the kiss that I'd forgotten I'd been missing.

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  When she was leaving for work on Thursday, Beau was sitting shirtless on her couch drinking a smoothie he'd made with all the remaining fruit in her kitchen. Her dream kitchen, that is. The one with the wrap-around marble counter top and stainless steel appliances. He'd asked if the fruit was organic, and without the store stickers there was no way for him to know she was lying.

  "I'll be home at seven," she informed the empty sofa. "Will you still be here?" She tried not to sound anxious. The last two nights were incredible, as always, but she wanted to get back to normal. Most of all, she wanted him to be out of town by the time Joel rolled in.

  "You haven't given me much time to relax," said the ghost of the rock star.

  "Sorry." She noticed then he hadn't looked at his smartphone once since he'd arrived. Usually he was inundated with messages from agents and industry people.

  "Where's your phone?"

  "In my bag."

  He'd only brought an expensive-looking messenger bag. He'd left plenty of stuff in the fantasy apartment before. She’d moved it all into the fictional second bedroom months ago, and it was still there waiting for him to claim it.

  "It's been quiet." She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him.

  "I turned it off." />
  "Are you hiding out?"

  "Kind of."

  "Shouldn't you be doing that on some island somewhere with a beautiful blonde or two?"

  He grinned at her. "I like it here. No sand."

  "What if someone needs to reach you?"

  "They can call my agent."

  "What if it's an emergency?"

  "My agent knows where I am. He has your number."

  She rolled her eyes. The conversation was going nowhere, and she had to get to work.

  "Well, you'd better find an island before tomorrow because I have plans."

  The apparition stood up, his abs rolling and flexing and making his panther tattoo dance. He came so close she thought he was going to try to kiss her again. And he smelled good, like men’s body wash after a hot shower.

  "Don't worry, Lucy. Your boyfriend will never know I was here." He zipped his lip with two fingers and tossed the imaginary key.

  "He's not my boyfriend." She resisted the urge to put her hand on his muscled chest. Work. She had to get to work.

  When she turned for the door she reminded herself that Joel was better for her. Beau was trouble, and she didn't need that. Tomorrow, Joel would be here to remind her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  In the morning, there were three notifications on her phone. They were all posts from Joel. The first was a picture of his luggage with the caption, "Off to Omaha." The second was a selfie from the plane with his thumb in the air. The third was a re-post from the show's website reminding everyone in Omaha to come on down to see the show. The sold-out show.

  The picture from the plane had been posted at 8:05 a.m. The luggage in the first photo had been sitting on a bed whose comforter she recognized from a previous post. It was his bed, which meant he was coming from New York. All she had to do was find the flight around 8:00 from New York to Omaha. Easy.

  She quickly showered and slipped into the clothes she'd set out the night before. Her phone blared music on her bathroom counter while she put on her makeup. There was a real possibility she would be face-to-face with Joel and she needed to look her best.

  After a hasty breakfast and half a cup of coffee, she rushed out the door. She managed to dodge the friendly old lady and hop into the elevator. She sprinted out of the main doors and across the parking lot to her car.

  She could be at the airport in twenty minutes, but her gas gauge was pointing at empty. She drove to the gas station down the street. The service bell dinged when she pulled up to the full-service pump. The usual attendant was immediately at her window and he took her debit card with a smile. Her finger drummed on the steering wheel, willing him to somehow pump the gas faster.

  Being in her mid-twenties, there were plenty of things she hadn't done. She hadn't been in a relationship. She hadn't left the country, although her parents had plenty of times without her. She hadn't skied down a snowy mountain. She hadn't paid her own bills. And she hadn't pumped her own gas. Ever. No one had ever taught her how. She figured maybe it was something people assumed everyone knew how to do and now she was embarrassed to ask anyone. So she'd only ever used the full-service pump. She didn't see anything wrong with it. After all, what was it there for if people weren't supposed to use it?

  Finally her tank was full and she raced cautiously for the airport while watching out for speed traps. She didn't need a speeding ticket. That was another thing she'd never done. She'd never had a ticket.

  The parking lot of the Best Western down the road from the airport allowed a great view of the planes landing and taking off. She was using the airline's app to track Joel's flight. She could see it was getting close. While she waited she scrolled through photos she had saved from his Twitter feed. She paused on one from a professional photo shoot in his apartment. He was sitting on a wooden bench next to a large colonial-style window with white trim. The walls around him were brick. The ceiling had to be ten feet high.

  Another photo showed a black grand piano in front of the same window. He had captioned it, Finally got this baby tuned today. This was the photo that had prompted her to look into his brief musical career. It's how she had discovered the song he'd performed on the fundraising CD which she'd listened to at least a hundred times by now. That only left her wishing there were more of these musical inspirations she could carry with her and fill her car with the sounds of his voice.

  A jet roared overhead, prompting her to check the airline app. Joel had arrived, but it would still be a while before the passengers were deplaned. She continued to browse his Twitter photos, including one taken from his kitchen floor when he was so exhausted from the day he had declared dramatically he may never move from it. She gazed at the dark cabinets and recessed lighting, imagining strolling up to the counter while he made their breakfast.

  The phone buzzed. His plane had officially arrived. She started her car and headed out of the hotel's parking lot. She took her time driving the long road past the airport's employee parking lot, to the frustration of a car behind her who swooped around her left side to get ahead.

  She pulled up to the curb in front of the airline sign directly behind American Airlines. Ahead of her were a Smart Car and a large, black SUV. She had expected to see a limo. Joel obviously wasn't being picked up in a smart car. Her hands gripped the steering wheel; one more tightly than the other. She adjusted several times until all fingers on both hands were spread evenly and touching the hard plastic with the exact same intensity. Her nerves seemed to be getting the better of her.

  When Joel came out the door, she would have missed him had it not been for the photographer who busted out of the doors first. He was snapping shots of him while a large, bald man ushered Joel to the SUV. Joel wore a newsboy cap and thick-rimmed glasses. His coat collar was popped up, and he was clutching it around him to partially cover his face.

  She sat up straight in her seat. Blood was rushing in her ears, the sound even louder than the jet engines on the other side of the building. Her palms began to shake and sweat. She couldn't blow this opportunity. She couldn't lose him.

  When the SUV pulled from the curb, she was right behind it. Her heart pounded with the realization Joel was right there in that car, in the flesh. If only she could do something to make the car stop and wait for her. Maybe the tire would blow out and she would have to stop and help them. If only she had magical powers, she could pop the tire. She giggled at her foolishness.

  Joel’s car pulled into the driveway of the downtown Hilton. Lucy passed it and headed for the parking garage. She couldn't leave her car on the curb while she chased after a celebrity.

  After she parked she rushed into the hotel, but he had clearly bypassed the front desk and gone up to his room. She sat down in the lobby, pulled up the hotel's website on her phone and searched for photos of their most expensive rooms. The two-room suite was gorgeous with plush carpet and floor-to-ceiling windows. She imagined him up there right now getting settled and waiting for her to arrive.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  Omaha - Present

  Joel Ruskin wants nothing to do with the stalker case. Quote: Don’t give that lunatic any more publicity.

  The text made Elijah hyperventilate for a second. Interviewing the victim of the crime would add depth to his story. Now he was going to have to do without it. If Lucy didn’t give him enough, he’d have to dramatize the events of that night. It was disappointing, but not unheard of. Unless he could find another way to get that information.

  At this moment, however, he was sitting in a beat-up office chair in the security room of the Downtown Hilton. The cast of Hometown Star had been put up here when they came to town for auditions. Elijah had a good feeling Miss Bonneville would show up on their security footage.

  A young woman named Su had found the archived footage for him. Now she was manning the controls while he navigated. They’d already been through two days of black and white video sped up to three times speed. He knew the date that Joel had checked in, but he wanted to make s
ure Lucy hadn’t entered the hotel ahead of time for some reason. She was clearly capable of the oddest behavior.

  Finally her image appeared on one of the four sections of the screen. The camera, focused on the front doors, caught her face clearly. Elijah got a rush like he’d won a round of Keno.

  "That’s her." He thrust his pointed finger at the screen, lifting himself from his chair.

  Su gave him an irritated side glance and reversed the video a few seconds. She played it back in real time. They watched together as Lucy entered the lobby. Instead of approaching the desk, she took a seat on one of the guest couches. The only camera viewing her was above her and behind her head. She sat and fidgeted for a long time.

  After almost a half hour, Lucy stood up and walked off the right side of the screen. Su hit some keys and switched to a view of the elevator doors. It was clear she’d done this for people many times. Elijah’s writer mind could imagine what kind of incriminating information hotel cameras held.

  An elevator opened and Lucy stepped in. Su changed the image again to a screen filled with about a dozen nearly identical images of elevator doors. One of those images showed movement, so she hit some more buttons and the four-square screen came back.

  This time the cameras focused on hallways on one floor of the hotel. Lucy walked slowly past the room doors. She paused in front of several. At a few she pressed her ear to the door for several minutes. Then she got back onto the elevator and tried another floor.

  "Seems like your lady is looking for someone," Su said.

  "Yes, she is."

  "Is she gonna find him?" By her sly grin she assumed he knew something was about to happen.

  He didn’t know. The story he was telling only had an end. So far there was no beginning and no middle. Lucy probably wasn’t going to tell him everything. He needed to fill in the blanks.