Page 82 of August Lane
“What’s the Star Festival?”
“Oh, something about star-crossed lovers,” Jojo said. “Separated by the Milky Way. They angered some powerful god, and now they can only see each other once a year.” Jojo looked at the clothes spilling from her luggage. “I don’t know why I packed so much stuff.”
“Thank you,” August said. She cradled the pendant in her palm. “I love it.”
Jojo smiled, but it seemed tired, her brief burst of energy already spent. “So, were you telling the truth in there? This afternoon surprise isn’t a date?”
August hesitated. “He didn’t call it that.” But Luke had hugged her yesterday. He thought she was easy to love. “It could be something, though.”
“Well, I’m excited for your something,” Jojo said. “Don’t listen to Birdie. She’s still not over me running around and talking back when Iwas your age.” She paused. “Younger than you. My God, you’re eighteen. When did that happen?”
She touched August’s face like that would help her understand it. Then she flashed a retail smile and pointed to the old record player in the corner. “You ever use that? It was Daddy’s. He used to drive Mama crazy playing Muddy Waters on Sunday.” Jojo laughed. “Bet she kept those records. That woman throws nothing away.” She flipped her hair back. “I’m leaving again. Europe. For a year.”
For a second, August thought Jojo was about to invite her to come along. Instead of going to Nashville, August would roam the streets of Paris or Berlin with her mother. But she should have known better. Later, she’d blame Luke’s little cupcake for that pointless burst of hope.
“You won’t hear from me for a while,” Jojo said. “International rates are expensive. And I’ll have to miss your graduation.”
August could feel herself shrinking. Hardening. “Right,” she said. “I get it.”
“I knew you’d understand.” Jojo patted her shoulder. “Now tell me about this boyfriend. Is he cute? He better be if you’re running around behind Birdie’s back.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” August said. “He’s a musician.” She wanted to add that they both were, that her words were his inspiration and the music they made together was better than anything Jojo put on her CDs.
“But is he cute?”
“Yes. And really nice.”
“Oof. Watch out for nice musicians. They’ll treat you well, but we all love the stage more than anything. Nothing else comes close.” She gave August a pointed look. “I don’t want that for you.”
Jojo always said that, but she never explained it, never added anything she did want for August. She never said I want you to be happy, or I want you to achieve your dreams, or I want to slay the beasts that scare you.
“He’s not like that,” August said, and then looked at the clock. It was almost eleven. “I should probably see if Birdie needs help cleaning up.”
Jojo’s lips thinned. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.” She stood. “I’ll straighten this up so she doesn’t complain about the mess.”
August watched her snatch up a bra and throw it at her suitcase. It immediately fell to the floor. “We usually go to dinner,” August told her. “I pick a new restaurant at random. It’s another tradition.”
“That sounds fun,” Jojo said, but didn’t offer to join them. August walked out and closed the door behind her. She leaned against the wall, looked down at the necklace, and had the urge to rip it off. The chain was loose and fragile enough to snap with one hand.
Nashville, TN (August 28, 2023)—Charlotte Turner released the following statement today through her personal attorney and business manager, Daphne Ficus, in light of inquiries regarding her marriage to Luke Randall.
“I’m stunned and devastated by the stories being reported by the press about my husband and our marriage. Jojo Lane’s induction into the Country Music Hall of Fame should be a historic celebration of a music legend. Instead, it’s become a political talking point for divisive politicians and fodder for more salacious gossip about my private life. Marriage is hard and gets even harder when you’re in the public eye. Luke and I are working through our issues together and request that our privacy be respected at this time.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
2023
Charlotte blamed her publicity team for her statement. “I didn’t see it before they sent it out. They had this elaborate plan for announcing our amicable divorce. The photos made them panic.”
Luke believed her. It was easy to outsource your life when you were famous. Charlotte’s pristine reputation was worth billions. No one trusted her, a mere human with flaws, to make decisions about her personal life. “I’ll do an interview to clear things up,” she said. “One of the big morning shows.”
Luke pulled his truck into the Arcadia Inn parking lot and cut the engine. “Ken won’t let you do that.”
“I’m firing him. He’s a shitty publicist anyway.”
“He was doing his job. Trying to protect you.”
“That’s everyone’s excuse. It was your excuse, too. We should have ended this years ago.”
