Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

Eddie

Callie is scaring me. I expected a breakdown; I expected a wreck. And maybe that's the issue—I'd expected her to react like I would. After Beau's funeral, she moved back into her room at my house because she didn't want her sister looking over her shoulder like she was a fragile little girl. But now she's acting as if nothing ever happened.

The first time she wanted to go to a meeting, I went because I thought it was more for her. She opened up about her past and it made me realise we're not so different; we both hold the same fears. But the daily struggle is okay because I have her. I never mentioned—and neither did Olivia—how I'd been going to meetings on my own. Before a meeting last week, I told Callie I was concerned about her and that maybe she should go to a meeting for herself, as I know she'd only been going along with me, which obviously led to a fight. I totally avoided her for a couple of days after that. Both because the woman is scary when she's angry, and also, I didn't want to be me and mess things up.

Mickki and the guys have been coming here to work on the new album so we can be free of our contract. We've been doing this for almost half our lives, and we have enough money to all happily walk away—except for Mickki. He's said he may consider a solo career.

I have an early meeting today with my solicitors; they need some more information. We are seeing what can be done in case Alex takes this public, and we need to be a few steps ahead of her.

When I get into the car with Marcus, he's acting strange. Honestly, he's been acting weird all morning, and I can't get ahold of Damien because he's picking the girls up from the airport and getting them settled into their new place. This is also so he can spend some alone time with Shan. He won't admit it, but they hit it off, and he's head over heels for her.

"I need to make a quick stop. There's a florist on the corner of Eldsons Street."

"Are you sure? I can call someone to get you flowers," he says.

"Just take me to the florist. I want to order my girl some flowers so I can stop hiding from her."

"She isn't even mad at you," he says.

"That's what you think. She told you she wasn't pissed, and she wants you to tell me that. But I've had Delilah and Jen keeping me updated, and she's still pissed."

Marcus pulls over to the curb and follows me from the car. As we make our way into the florist, and I'm thinking there's nothing nicer than the smell of fresh flowers, my phone rings. I'd changed my ringtone to the music for the next song I've started writing, as I enjoy hearing it for inspiration. I see Sasha's name flashing on the screen and send the call to voicemail—I'll call her back after my meeting.

The shop assistant glances up from her gossip magazine and gasps as she looks at me and back to the magazine. Marcus tells me to go pick some flowers, but as I move away, I realise I don't know anything about flowers.

Turning back around, I see Marcus whispering with the lady behind the counter, and when I spot my face on the front of her trashy gossip magazine—it hits me. Marcus has been weird today because he's hiding something, and for that matter, my phone hasn't been blowing up with Mickki reminding me what time I have to be at the solicitor's office. Marcus is the best in his field, and it surprises me he didn't see me sneak up behind him and snatch the magazine from his hands. He tries to snatch it back and tells me I really shouldn't look at it, but I need to know. The cover has a picture of me and one of Alex.

MANAGER SPEAKS OUT AGAINST SEXUAL HARASSMENT.

Where there's one headline, there'll be plenty more. I run from the florist and across the road to the newsagency. Every shelf has magazines with my face on them. As I grab them off the shelves, a young shop assistant tries to approach me.

"Sorry, sir, you can't— Oh, um, it's you," she says, realising it's my face on the covers.

"I'll take them all," I say and she just nods.

Marcus is trying to keep the few people who've caught on from taking pictures and videos. As the girl scans and bags the magazines, I notice the crowd has grown and my security has tripled. Marcus pulls me from the counter and says someone will take care of it for me.

"Call Delilah and make sure she keeps Callie inside the house until I get back!" I shout at Marcus as we try to exit the store.

"Already taken care of, Eddie. Jen is paying her a visit."

"Good, take me to Mickki," I say, hitting the speed dial for his number.

"Eddie?" Mickki says, answering my call.

"Don't ‘Eddie' me. Tell me you didn't know about this, because I'm struggling to grasp how you've been on this, yet you said she couldn't go to the papers and that we had time."

"Just calm down, please. This isn't a bad thing," he says.

"Not a bad thing?" I scoff. "How is my girlfriend—who's grieving her son—finding out her boyfriend has been accused of sexually harassing his manager not a bad thing?" I shout and end the call. How could he even think that for one second? I'm so screwed.

I barely wait for the car to stop before stepping out in front of Brindley, Carlyle, and Associates. Storming into the building, I stride through to Brindley's office, not giving the receptionist a chance to greet me.

"Who's responsible for this?" I throw the magazine on the desk and it scatters the loose pens and some papers across the surface. "Be wise about how you answer, otherwise I'll be in tomorrow's paper for a lot worse than sexual harassment."

"Stop being so overdramatic. Go home and explain everything to Callie before she sees any of this. She's a smart woman, so I highly doubt she'll believe anything she reads," Mickki says.

"So, what now, then?" I ask. "Do you have a plan? Because I sure as shit pay you enough to at least give me something."

"Actually, we did—" Derek says, but stops abruptly when Mickki looks at him.

"Tell me. For fuck's sake, I have a right to know."

"We found an out, but it isn't a good one," Derek says.

"An out?" I question.

"You signed an agreement of sorts when you agreed, or reluctantly agreed, to get sober," Mickki says, and I do vaguely remember signing something I didn't read. "It basically said that if you fucked up one more time, the label would have no choice but to drop you. But the sexual harassment wasn't put to the press before now, and?—"

"And if I relapsed, I could get out of the contract," I say, finishing Mickki's sentence.

"Pretty much, but now this is out in the open, and we have room to negotiate with Fontaine Records. We have our team going over your contract again, and Alex's. We'll be meeting with their team of solicitors."

"So, Eddie, that means no doing anything fucking stupid until they meet with Fontaine Records," Mickki says in his condescending tone, like I'm a child. My phone vibrates in my pocket again.

"What?" I snap down the line, not even bothering to see who's calling.

"Callie's gone," Delilah says, sounding panicked.

"She's gone where?"

"We don't know. I went to make her some food and when Jen turned up, she was already gone," she says.

"Maybe she just went to the shops?" Fuck. Then she will see all the magazines. "FUCK!"

"There's something else Jen told me, and it's not good."

"You're scaring me," I say, and the room falls silent, all eyes on me.

"It's Beau's birthday today. I didn't know, and Jen has gone to see if she can find her in any of the usual places."

"Make sure you tell everyone to look for her, and I mean everyone. If I get back and anyone is there, they'll be fired." I end the call and look up at Mickki. "We have to go."

I don't need to tell him the details; he heard enough to understand. Marcus is already on the phone. Maybe we're overreacting, but I know I can't take any chances. She'll hate herself if she relapses.

I make a quick call to Sasha and learn that she was calling to tell me to keep an eye on Callie, since today is Beau's birthday.

Pulling up at Jen's house, I feel useless. We've been looking for Callie all day and have been unable to find her. Everyone is gathered outside, but all we can do is wait. Her phone is switched off, but I know it isn't flat because she's so anal about charging it.

After I greet the group, I make Jen go inside and lie down, and her husband says he'll make sure she rests. As I look around in awe, my heart swells at the amount of support Callie has; Olivia, her sponsor, and a few regular NA friends are gathered around a small beat-up car; Damien, Shan, and the other girls are talking with Marcus; and Delilah is handing out sandwiches. Dane and his wife pull up at the curb behind my SUV.

"Thanks for coming," I say, shaking his hand.

"We care about her and want to help. I called Sasha and we've put together a list of the places she used to go when she wasn't sober," he says, handing me a piece of paper.

Calling everyone over, we share out the pubs, clubs, and other addresses, and I make Delilah go home in case Callie turns up there. Once we've split the list between us, we leave, agreeing to meet back here if we can't find her.

Marcus and I have some small pub on the other side of town. Staring out the car window as we drive through the area, I feel jealous, even though the houses are smaller and the area may not be the best. I wish I had a normal life.

People always say they want fame and fortune, but it really isn't all it's cracked up to be. What good is all my money when I can't find her and help? Maybe other people don't wish for it—and it's only me—but if I look back on my life, there are very few times I've been truly happy. One was when we first started the band, and we'd rehearse in Benny's garage. We thought we were so badass and had a blast. The second time was when I met Sasha and Amelia. And the third time has been since I met Callie. None of those happy times came from having money.

It's amazing how you see things differently when you're happy. The constant travelling, the shows, the women, the parties—none of it appeals to me anymore. All I want is a happy life with my woman and my close friends. I want to find Callie, so she knows I love her, and that I'm here for her, no matter what.

Marcus lets me know we're here, and I look around as I step out of the car. The bar's only small and all the adjoining shops are closed. The streets seem empty, and the sound of a live band comes from inside. Making my way through the doors, I scan the room and she doesn't seem to be here. As I'm approaching the bar, a lady in her mid-forties with bleached blonde hair, wearing a tight white singlet and a leather miniskirt, smiles at me seductively.

"What can I get for you, handsome?" she asks, as she leans on the bar far enough her breasts hang from her shirt.

"I'm looking for my girlfriend," I say, pulling out a recent photo of Callie that Jen gave me.

"Oh, you're Eddie. Cal was here," she tells me.

"Where did she go?" Marcus asks, and she turns her attention towards him.

"She was really drunk, and we called her a cab. She mentioned it was her son's birthday, and she wanted to see him."

"Her son's dead," I snap, and her face drops. Maybe she isn't as fake as her tits.

"I'm sorry, she didn't mention anything about him besides it being his birthday."

"Thanks for your help."

Marcus is already on the phone to the taxi company. After a bit of back and forth with them, he says, "Eddie, we need to leave. She was dropped off close to your house. She made a scene, and the driver kicked her out on the side of the road."

We race towards the car. When I find out who kicked her out, I'll have them fired. Don't they have a duty of care? Who am I kidding? It's Callie—she's damn scary.

I get Delilah on the phone and ask if she's seen Callie yet, but she says she checked the house as soon as she got in, and she wasn't there. I ask her to double check Beau's room and to call me back if she finds her. Every second of the drive to my house feels like an hour, and there's no sign of her where the taxi company said they dropped her.

As we pull up to the house, I jump out of the car before Marcus has even parked. Delilah is standing at the door. I'm almost afraid to look at her, but as I do, I see the sadness in her eyes, and she shakes her head. I have to look for myself—maybe she's hiding.

"Callie!" I yell, running through the kitchen.

I make my way to my studio and out into the pool room. My heart beats faster as I approach her side of the house. I'm nervous... what if she isn't here? But what if she is? What mental state will she be in? Am I really ready to do this?

Taking a deep breath, I walk through her living room. "Callie?" I say, opening her bedroom door. I walk in and notice a picture of Beau on the floor. Picking it up, I set it back up on her dresser.

Where are you, Callie?

"I've found Callie!" Marcus calls.

"Where?"

"She's outside in her old car," he says.

"Thank God," I sigh out.

"Are you sure you can handle this? She looks like she's in bad shape."

I can understand his concern for me—he's been with us for ten years now.

"Even if I can't handle it, I have to try. She's my rock and I love her," I assure him. He nods and I leave him standing there.

I thought I was nervous before, but as I make out a body sitting in the car, my hands sweat, and I wipe them on my jeans. She has the radio on, and Alanis Morissette is blasting from the speakers.

When I open the passenger side door, get in, and close it behind me, she looks over at me through her tears. She's so beautiful, even with mascara running down her face, and she's also wearing that stupid hat from the day she drove me home in this death trap. She doesn't say anything to me, she just takes a swig from the bottle of vodka.

"He was the reason I stayed sober," Callie says, breaking the silence.

"I know he was, and I know you need to numb the pain. I know that listening to music so loud it drowns out the silence in your brain helps too."

"Eddie, I need to forget, just for a little while. Please help me forget."

"Okay." I open my door, walk around to her side of the car, and help her out.

Tonight I plan to do whatever it takes to help her forget. Maybe it's stupid not to take away the alcohol and whatever her drug of choice is—I know she has some on her somewhere, as it's what helps us feel something. But the damage is done, and she'll have to face that reality. However, if I force her to do it right now, she could disappear from my life forever.

We walk towards the house hand in hand to find Marcus standing in the doorway. I tell Callie to go further inside and pick some music, and I'll be in soon. I can see the look on his face, and I know what he's about to say.

"You're in over your head," he says.

"Just trust that I may know how to handle this. Let everyone know I'll call them tomorrow. Right now, she needs to forget, and can you really blame her? The damage is done—she already hates herself. So in a few hours, and with me watching over her, she'll have it out of her system and everything will be fine."

"What if she doesn't, and you get dragged down with her?"

"Are you fucking serious right now? She needs me and if she drags me back in, as you say, then I don't care. I don't want to be without her. I need her and I know her. She's too strong to let this keep her down. She'll wake up in the morning and realise it isn't worth it."

"You're being a selfish arse, as usual. When will you act your age, and start thinking about something, or someone, other than yourself?"

"Fuck off, you are way out of line. It isn't your place as my employee!" I whisper-yell.

"Employee?!" he scoffs. "Here I thought we were actually friends." He walks away as he mumbles something else under his breath.

I knew he wouldn't understand. The only thing that kept me going after Amelia died was drugs, booze, fucking, and music, and I'd only known Amelia for a short time. This was Callie's son, someone she already felt she'd let down. If this is how she wants to deal with her grief on his birthday, then I'll stand by her side and make sure she's okay. That she gets through the day even if no one else agrees or understands.