Encore (Stereo Hearts Book 2) (24 page)

He and Simon shared a knowing chuckle across the lounge table. The exclusive Asian-themed cocktail bar at The Ritz was quiet as a mouse. Hotel management hadn’t hesitated in clearing out the space upon Dexter and Simon’s request.

Yoshi wondered if this was what his life would be like now. An endless stream of empty rooms. Unable to have a conversation or live his life without fear of strangers being within earshot. Always alone. Always in the shadows.

“Yoshi?”

He startled from where he was slouched in the red leather chair, sitting tall and blinking rapidly. “Hmm? I’m sorry, did you say something?”

“I did…” Dexter shot Simon a look.

And Simon shot
Yoshi
a look.

His eyes screamed ‘Don’t you dare fuck this up,’ but Yoshi wasn’t moved. Over the months, Simon’s anger had stopped being scary. It had become a little less severe, a little more desperate, a
lot
more pathetic.

Simon spoke through a tight smile. “Dexter just asked you what your dream set list would be if you were the headliner.” Craning his neck so only Yoshi could see his face, he widened his eyes.

“Ah…” Yoshi thought on it. Then, before he could answer, his mind shot back to the pool in his mansion, just an hour before. His stomach hit the floor. He thought of his only love, his Bo, literally naked before him, warning him that if he went to this meeting, it would be the last straw for her. Promising that she wouldn’t be there when he got back.

But for his entire life, Aria had
always
been there when he came back. Even when she said she wouldn’t be. So why did his stomach feel like it hadn’t just bottomed out, but melted into the marble floors below? Why, this time, did it feel so heart churningly real?

“
Yoshi
.”

Yoshi jolted, blinking back to the present again, looking lazily between Simon and Dexter. “Shit,” he mumbled, trying to blink Aria’s tear-filled face out of his mind. “Right. Uh… What were we talking about?”

Dexter made a disappointed face, pressing his lips together, moving to stand up.

Simon reached for him with his hands clawed. He looked on the verge of begging Dexter to stay, but it only escaped his mouth as a croak.

Dexter sighed, holding his tie to his chest, his white eyelashes fluttering. “Look, if you’re not interested in this—”

“We’re interested,” Simon jumped in.

But Dexter spoke only to Yoshi, stopping halfway to a stand and motioning across the table. “If you’ve got more important places to be, Yoshi, then so do I.”

Yoshi squinted up at him, thought on that, and then stood. “Actually, I do.”

Simon visibly wheezed, hiding his head in his hands to muffle the sound just as Dexter’s mouth dropped open.

Yoshi took in Dexter’s stunned stare, convinced that a man of his caliber rarely allowed such an honest reaction to show on his face. When Yoshi offered his hand, Dexter had to take a moment to compose himself.

Then, he stood tall and shook Yoshi’s hand. “You’re making a big mistake, son.”

“The only mistake I made was coming to this meeting tonight instead of staying at home with my girlfriend, where I belong. I’m sorry,” Yoshi said, “but I do have someplace more important to be. Much more important. She deserves to know how much I love her—”

Simon squawked into his hands.

“And if that means losing out on the Super Bowl, well… So be it.” Yoshi looked between the two of them with his lips pressed together.

Then, without another word, he chucked them the deuces and left the table.

As he walked away, he distantly heard Simon speaking hurriedly. “He’s hopped up on enough cocaine to subsidize a Mexican cartel. He has no idea what he’s saying….”

Yoshi only made it to the hallway across the lounge before he broke into a run.

--

“Aria!” Yoshi burst through the door of their mansion without even stopping to close it behind him. When he was met with a dark, quiet foyer, he looked both ways, into the living area and the family room. When he found both empty, he skipped towards the pool, where he’d made the colossal mistake of walking away earlier that night.

He threw open the doors to the backyard. “Aria!”

But the pool area was empty.

His heartbeat picked up. Running a hand down his face, he told himself to remain calm. But as he jetted back into the foyer, his legs felt like Jell-O, his feet unsteady. He raced up the spiral staircase, two at a time, and had to grip the railing with all his might to keep himself upright. With every moment he called her name and she didn’t answer, his bones felt weaker, until he was positive a collapse was moments away.

“Baby?” He barreled into their bedroom and found every dresser drawer hanging open with most of her clothes missing. What was left was strewn all over the bed and the floor. He raced to the closet and found her favorite shoes missing. He nearly swallowed his tongue.

“Aria!” he screamed her name through every room in the house, throwing open doors and flicking on lights as he went, barreling back down the steps and racing into the kitchen.

“Aria, please, no…” He slowed to a stop after turning on the kitchen light.

And his heart hit the floor.

Tears stung his wide eyes as he approached the kitchen island, slamming his palms down on the countertop.

Sitting in the middle of the white granite counter was his lime-green bracelet, still rolled into the shape of a ring.

“No…” The word came out in a silent whisper as he took the string under his shaky fingers, clutching it tight in his palm.

He gasped in a breath as a wave of nausea hit him, so strong he had to clutch the edge of the counter to keep from toppling over. He dropped his head and brought his body to a standstill, hoping that remaining motionless would keep the bile threatening his throat at bay.

--

She couldn’t escape him. Not even when she wanted to. Aria glared at the wall of the Kansas City International Airport terminal as the moving walkway carried her towards the Starbucks sign glowing in the distance. Gleaming from every display case on the wall, Yoshi’s face smiled back at her. The banners were bright red and impossible to ignore. In the photos, he gave the camera that side-eyed, ‘come hither’ glance that had stolen hearts all over the world—including hers.

And the tears were back. They didn’t even sting her swollen eyes anymore. She flashed back to the flight attendant who’d been forced to gently shake her awake on the plane, because she’d been crying in her sleep.

Now she had to endure a three-hour layover in Kansas City with his fucking face all over the walls.

She’d sworn to herself that she wouldn’t call him. That she meant it this time. That she didn’t deserve to be hidden in the shadows. She wanted more. She
deserved
more.

Still, after getting a large cup of coffee and making her way back to her gate, she found herself face-to-face with him again. This time, his big hazel eyes stared down at her from the massive display over the airport’s express tram. This photo stretched from wall to wall and brought something alive in her that nearly made her drop her coffee in her haste to get to her phone.

Her fellow passengers stared. She wondered if they were staring because her eyes were swollen to the size of her head from tears, or because one of those eyes was blue.

She turned away, ignoring the first train that arrived, unlocking her phone. She’d left the mansion in Los Angeles at three in the morning, and caught the first flight to Kansas. She hadn’t chosen Kansas specifically; she’d just told the gate agent to get her anywhere but there. Anywhere but LA.

It was the first time she’d turned her phone on since the flight had landed, and a sob escaped her lips at what greeted her.

Fifty missed calls, fifty voice mails, thirty text messages. All from Yoshi.

She only made it through the first few texts, all begging her to come back home, before she could no longer help herself. She dialed his number instantly. When she was sent to voice mail, she told herself to hang up, but she couldn’t.

“Yoshi. I… I…” She tried to think of the right thing to say that wouldn’t blow up his head or make her seem desperate, but all she could manage was the truth. Her voice shook. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it and I don’t want this. I don’t want to be broken up. To leave the way I did, that was… impulsive, and unfair, and a really stupid, reckless way to handle your feelings. I want to be with you.” The truth ate her alive and put a hitch in her voice. “I want to get married. I want to work on whatever it is that we need to work on, together. I’m in Kansas City. I’m supposed to make a connection to New York, but… if you want me to come back, I will. Call me back, okay? Call me back, and I’ll fly home, and we’ll figure it out together.” She opened her mouth to say more then, realizing how pathetic she must sound already, she clicked the phone off.

Crossing the terminal on wobbly legs, she sat down at an empty gate and stared at her phone, waiting for him to return her call.

17

Carmen’s four-inch red heels slowed to a stop outside the tall double doors of Yoshi and Aria’s mansion. The front door was open just a crack, and made her suspicious enough to freeze her in mid-step.

She approached the open door on a careful foot. It creaked as she peeked her head inside.

“Yoshi?” she called, her eyes searching the quiet foyer. When she was met with silence, a part of her told her to leave for safety reasons. But another part was overcome with worry. She’d seen the bender Yoshi had gone on during the party the night before, and the state he’d been in when he’d found out Aria had left the party early. She’d never seen him so trashed.

It sent her speed-walking through the foyer and racing up the staircase. “Aria?”

When she pushed open the door to his bedroom and found Yoshi, lying alone, face down but still breathing on his king-sized bed, she exhaled in relief. His head was turned away from the doors, limbs spread at all angles.

In her years in the industry, Carmen recognized a coke-coma when she saw one, and shook her head. She didn’t know why Yoshi was so intent on doing drugs he had no business doing, trying to keep up with people who’d had years to train their bodies to handle that kind of abuse. Just as she went to dial Simon’s number and tell him to cancel lunch, Yoshi’s phone buzzed on the nightstand.

She hurried across the room and sat on the edge of the bed, swooping up his phone. She checked over her shoulder to make sure he was still asleep before waking the phone up.

Then she tapped in Yoshi’s passcode, thankful that he’d always been heavy-handed when putting it in, making it easy as pie for anyone within ten feet of him to see what it was. Her fingers danced all over the screen of his phone once she made it to the home screen, eyes widening as she drank in dozens of notifications, all from Aria.

And Aria wasn’t alone in her pursuit. Yoshi had called her no less than fifty times the night before, but it seemed she hadn’t gotten around to responding until that morning.

Carmen went into Yoshi’s voice mails and pressed Play on the most recent message from Aria. Her voice trembled; it was clear she’d been crying. It almost strummed at Carmen’s heartstrings.

Almost.

Aria’s voice wobbled over the phone.
“I… I… I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it, and I don’t want this. I don’t want to be broken up. To leave the way I did, that was… impulsive, and unfair, and a really stupid, reckless way to handle your feelings. I want to be with you. I want to get married. I want to work on whatever it is we need to work on, together. I’m in Kansas City. I’m supposed to make a connection to take me back to New York, but… if you still want me to come back, I will. Call me back, okay? If you call me back, I’ll fly home and we’ll figure it out together.”

Carmen deleted that message, along with every other voice mail with Aria’s name on it. Then she traveled into Yoshi’s text messages.

She licked her lips when they went bone-dry in her excitement. Back-to-back texts from Aria greeted her.

Plane is at the gate. If you still want me to come back, I need to know now, Yoshi.

Deleted. Carmen swiped down.

Plane’s boarding. Yoshi, I love you. Please tell me how you’re feeling, whatever it is.

Deleted. She kept swiping.

On the plane. Going home to NYC. Don’t worry about calling. I get it.

Carmen deleted every message Aria had sent that morning. Every apology. Every olive branch.

Her heart raced faster with each one.

She knew her stunt with Aria at the after-party the night before would throw a wrench in their relationship, but never in her wildest dreams had she imagined it would work out this well.

She opened Aria and Yoshi’s text conversation and typed a quick message.

We did the right thing, Aria.

Carmen bit the corner of her lip, thought on that, and then deleted Aria’s name, retyping:

We did the right thing, Bo. We’ve come to a standstill. There’s nowhere to go but down. I just don’t love you the way I used to. It’s better that we part ways now.

Carmen nearly sent it. Poking her lips out at the cruelty of it all, her fingers danced across the screen again.

I’m sorry.

She added that last line with wide eyes and an even wider smile before hitting Send.

Yoshi shifted behind her, and every bone in her body went rock-solid. She snuck a look over her shoulder and watched him tossing in his sleep. Waiting until he’d settled into a comfortable position and his snores came back with a vengeance, she returned her attention to the phone.

For the first time in her life, she found herself thankful for all the crazy, abusive, scary ex-boyfriends who had come and gone from her life.

They’d made her an expert of filtering out phone numbers so she never had to hear from them again.

And in less than ten seconds, she filtered out Aria. If any correspondence came to Yoshi from Aria’s phone number or e-mail address, it would be deleted instantly, and he would never see it. There would be no record of it on his phone or even with his service provider. It would be like Aria’s calls and texts never happened.

Carmen thought on it, then went to Yoshi’s contacts and changed Aria’s phone number to
her
phone number. It was risky—there was no way to know if Yoshi had Aria’s real number memorized and would notice the discrepancy—but Carmen decided it was worth the risk. No one knew anyone’s phone number anymore. If she ever found herself in jail, with only one phone call, she’d be shit out of luck, because she didn’t know
anyone’s
phone number by heart, not even her own mother’s. Never in her life had she been so happy to live in the age of technology.

After silencing her own phone, she sighed the deepest sigh of relief, returning Yoshi’s phone to the nightstand. It felt like the first real breath she’d taken since the Maldives.

He moaned again.

She smiled back at him as he rolled over and slung his long arm across the bed, reaching for her. He grabbed the curve of her ass and dug his fingers into its softness.

“Aria,” he grumbled, an equally pained but adorable pout on his face. His eyes fluttered several times, as if he were still deciding whether it was worth it to wake up. His fingers took a strong hold on Carmen’s ass, and she shifted so he could get a good handful.

A coy, sleepy smile split his lips and he opened his eyes fully, lifting the heavy lids to her.

The moment he caught sight of her, a gasp caught in his throat. He pushed himself up on one arm, cursing under his breath.

“Carmen? The fuck…?” His eyes widened. Then, in the next instant, his hazel orbs danced all over the room, slowly soaking in realization. “Aria—”

“Isn’t here.”

Yoshi cringed, covering his face with his hands. “No. No, no, no….”

Carmen placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing.

“I thought it was a nightmare. I thought I was having a
fucking
nightmare…” His eyes shone with tears as he took in the dresser drawers that still sat open. The clothes still strewn all over the room. The little knickknacks that made this Aria’s home just as much as his—all no longer there.

“Damn it, Aria…” He leapt across the bed, nudging past Carmen to snatch his phone from the nightstand.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, watching him unlock his phone and hurry straight to his texts, his missed calls, and his e-mails. His eyebrows rose with a new gleam of hope as he ventured through each one, falling again when disappointment encased him at every turn.

“Fuck!” he screamed, jumping up from the bed and yanking his jeans up from the floor. He glared across the bed at Carmen. “What the hell are you even doing here? How did you get in my house?”

“The door was wide open. Not very bright for the world’s fastest-rising star, by the way. You should get in the habit of locking your door. I’d also invest in a deadbolt and video surveillance. People are crazy as fuck out here in these streets, Yoshi.
Crazy.
”

He didn’t appear to be listening, already pushing his phone to his ear.

Grinning, Carmen looked down at her phone and saw that it was ringing. She looked back to Yoshi just as he was sent to her automated voice mail.

She caught the frown of confusion on his face and held her breath. He was visibly taken aback by what he heard on the other end of the line, a voice mail greeting that wasn’t Aria’s. If he got suspicious enough about it, he’d hang up. Instead, he pulled the phone away from his face and double-checked the display. Seeing her name on the screen must’ve been enough, because the phone was back on his ear.

Carmen’s heart soared.

“Okay, I don’t know why you changed your voice mail greeting, but I need you to call me back, Bo…” He paced the carpet, covering his forehead with his hand. “I’m so sorry about last night, baby. I’m so,
so
sorry. I should’ve never left the way I did. I should’ve listened to you. I walked out on the meeting with that Super Bowl guy because I couldn’t stand that I just left you like that….”

Carmen rolled her eyes at Yoshi’s stupidity. The biggest opportunity in the world, a chance to play the Super Bowl, down the toilet for that one-eyed girl?

“Please call me back so we can talk about this, Aria…” He stopped pacing and held his hand out. “I can’t do this without you. I’m keeping my phone on all day, all right? I love you…” It looked like he was considering saying more but talked himself out of it, ending the call.

He looked at her. “You’re still here?”

Carmen faced him on the bed, cradling one of her thighs on the mattress. “We’ve got that photo op this morning, remember? Brunch at The Grove. TMZ is ready to—” she made finger quotes “—‘catch us’ having a romantic lunch.”

Yoshi was hardly listening, dialing a number.

Carmen didn’t have to ask who he was dialing, her phone illuminating in her hand again.

“Aria,” he barked into the phone. “This is fucking ridiculous. I love you, baby. I love you. I will give all this bullshit up for you today—right now—if you come back to me. Please, come back to me. Don’t do this. Call me.” Yoshi hung up and raced all over the room, dressing himself frantically.

Carmen watched him stumble, giving him time to feel the flurry of emotions surely eating him up before she spoke again.

“We’ve still got that brunch….”

Yoshi held a hand up, silencing her as he redialed Aria’s number. He didn’t even look at her as he put the phone to his ear, barking, “Can you just give me a fucking minute, Carmen?”

Carmen pressed her smiling lips together, and she did just that.

She gave him a minute.

--

That minute turned to hours. Hours to days. Days into weeks.

“I just don’t understand.” Yoshi motioned to the screen of his phone, the pain splashed across his face poignant, nearly reaching across the dressing room and taking Gus around the neck. “Was I this terrible? Was I this terrible to her that I don’t deserve a return phone call? A text? A goddamn fucking e-mail?
Nothing
. Was every minute we spent together this much of a lie?”

Gus sat in the makeup chair next to Yoshi’s, facing him with his hands clasped. The bright lights of the vanity mirror caught the emotion gleaming in Yoshi’s eyes.

“Don’t you dare,” Becky, Yoshi’s makeup artist, warned, only half joking as she stopped applying his foundation. “Don’t you dare shed another tear.” She waited for him to do just that, ruining her work for the third time that night. Behind the closed door of the dressing room, the arena full of fans chanting his name snuck under the doorsill and permeated dully through the room. Convinced he’d collected himself, she lowered her voice. “That’s better, love.” She went back to work, fluffing powder on his face. “I know you miss her, sweetheart, but damn if I’ve ever worked with an artist as emotional as you. And I’ve worked with
Kanye.
”

“I just…” Yoshi didn’t finish, instead deciding to throw the phone he clenched in his hand with all his might, his face curling as it crashed against the mirror. Miraculously, the mirror remained intact.

The phone wasn’t so lucky.

Unmoved by his tantrum—one of many over the weeks—Becky stood tall and waited for him to collapse back in his seat, then continued brushing. “Well, at least that’ll stop you from staring at it all day,” she mumbled, referring to his shattered phone.

Gus left his seat and scooped up the remnants.

“Hey, Becks?” Gus asked, standing and meeting her eyes. “Can you give us a minute?”

“Sure.” Becky set her brush down on the vanity before turning back to Yoshi and pushing his shoulder. “Buck up, Yosh. You got a girl who won’t answer you calls, but you’ve also got about sixteen thousand girls in line to be the next one. Take it from a born-and-bred Texan. We Southern belles? We do it best.” She brushed her knuckle along his jaw. “What’s the point of being a superstar if you can’t screw every woman in sight, anyway?”