Page 75 of Mending Hearts

The feeling hit me in the chest. It wasn’t the first time. But I was finding it harder and harder to hold back the words. Right now, over the phone, wasn’t the time. Telling her I loved her seemed like a betrayal of what I promised. No strings, just the baby.

We’d become so much more than that. I still didn’t know if it was enough to get her to stay or at least consider staying. We needed to talk, but if I couldn’t get Laura out of the train station and out of town, I might not get the chance.

As soon as I got close enough to the front entrance of the train station, it was clear Laura’s visit was worse than Mia knew. A camera crew circled the station, filming.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

I parked my truck and slipped in the side entrance closest to the parking lot, the one they often used to enter the apartment portion of the station. At the heavy door that led to the studio, I rubbed my faceand took a deep breath.Protect Mia. That was all I needed to do. Keep her hidden.

“Grady!” I called while I wandered in. “You still here?”

“In the sitting area!” Grady’s voice was pitched higher than normal. “Laura came for a visit.”

I leaned against the doorframe of the sitting room, my gaze averted from the bathroom door almost directly behind everyone else. Mia could not have picked a worse place to hide. There wasn’t a place to sneak her off to.

“This is an unexpected surprise.” I stared at Laura. “Did Mia know you were coming? She’s not here.”

“So, I’ve heard.” She returned my glare. “I called Grady and asked if they were recording today. He said they would be. So, here I am. We need some bonus material and some promo stuff for the new album. Studio stuff is always well received by her fans. I’ve tried texting her, but she’s not answering.”

“To be clear,” Grady looked between me and Laura, “you didn’t tell me you wanted to bring a camera crew,” he held up a finger, “or thatyouwere cominghere.”

“Yes, well, my job is to manage Mia’s career. Whether she likes it or not, getting a bit of footage of her in the studio will be good in a few months when she’s done with her temper tantrum. None of you would understand this, but a manager’s job is to look beyond the immediate problem to what’s ahead. She’s not going to quit. She loves performing too much. So, I need to make sure we’re prepared when she’s ready to hit the throttle again.”

“Are you staying in town today?” I asked. A reminder she was also Mia’s mother sat at the back of my throat, threatening to burst forth.Truthfully, we didn’t need either version of Laura here. “I can call you when she’s back.”

“Where is she? Neither one of these two seemed to know. Since she left her bodyguard here, she can’t be far. I wouldn’t put it past her to be hiding somewhere in the building to avoid me.”

“Spa. All this writing has been hard on her.” My lips tipped up in a partial smile at the lie. A bathroom was like a spa, right?

“At the spa? Without a bodyguard. That’s irresponsible. You don’t know the type of mail we receive, the crazy people obsessed with her.” Laura rose from her seat and gestured toward Pasha. “I should fire you.”

Pasha frowned and glanced at me, unwilling or unable to defend himself.

“We hired a private firm to handle a few hours a week of security to give Pasha a break.” I frowned. “You’re aware of the employment laws, right?” I chuckled. “It’s not like Mia could work him twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.” We had used a firm a few times when Pasha had wanted to go somewhere or do something. He rarely asked for any time to himself, but we tried to provide it.

Laura shook her head and narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I can assure you, you’re temporary, Tyler. You’re not her manager, her father, or her husband. You’re her hashtag Pretty Boy, right?” With her fingers, she air quoted the hashtag. “Isn’t that what she calls you?”

“What’s between us is none of your business, Laura.” I crossed my arms and returned her look. “She’s healthy. She’s happy. She’s making music. You don’t need to be here right now. She asked for space…from you.” That wasn’t completely true. Mia had asked for space from the business end of things, and Laura had interpreted it as space from her, too. The break could have been an opportunity for them to reconnect, or finally connect. I couldn’t be sure what their relationship had been like before Mia got famous.

“And you’ve latched onto her, hitched yourself to her star power. All your social media accounts are on the rise, right? Your Instagram followers alone went from a couple hundred to almost half a million. I don’t know how you convinced her to shun all those other designers for the VISION Gala, but it certainly turned out well for you.”

That reminded me that I needed to get Mia to block Laura from all my social accounts. I’d forgotten we followed each other months ago.

Since the gala, Mia had been running all my handles. At her suggestion, she’d been filming while I sketched designs, talked about materials, cutting and sewing, essentially our own little Project Runway. I agreed because the videos made her happy, and half the time, she ended up giggling over something I said or did. There wasn’t a better sound in all the world than her laugh.

As soon as she turned off the live feed, I’d sweep her into my arms, and she’d whisper all kinds of dirty things in my ear. The memories, so many of them, made me smile, and I ran my hand down my face to conceal it.

Laura was right. People were following me because of Mia, not because of anything I was doing. The posts were a glimpse into her life, and people ate it up like candy.

Once, she’d read out messages from my fans like I was actually famous. When she’d pretended to write back to them, I’d panicked and tried to take my phone back. But when I checked my messages later, she’d been kind and polite, even to the women proposing marriage. When I questioned her, she said,Yeah, well, I’m not being me, am I? I’m being you. You’re nice to people even when you shouldn’t be.

Maybe Mia would be proud of me because I was done being nice. “Accusing me of using her is a rich statement coming from you. The only things I’ve offered Mia are love and security. You did your job as her manager. She’s got lots of money. Maybe it’s time you focused on your other one? The mother part? The role where you give a shit if your kid is happy and healthy and not just whether she’s willing to work herself into the ground.”

“Like you know anything about the things I’ve done for Mia, the ways I’ve protected her.”

“Protected her?” I growled. “Like how you protected her from Kenny Connors? Or how you protected her from the stream of your boyfriends who wanted a piece of her? You barely batted an eye when Cade Brewer tried to force himself on her in her dressing room. You’ve stood by and let people use her. You’re little better than a pimp.” The last line slipped out before I could reel it in.

“I love my daughter. You can’t protect what you don’t know about. You think she came running to me about any of that? No. She didn’t. When I knew, I helped her.”

---