Forever Jack Read online

  Copyright © 2013 by Natasha Boyd

  Interior Design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats

  https://www.facebook.com/FictionalFormats

  Editing by Judy Roth http://www.judy-roth.com

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

  First Electronic Edition: November 2013

  First Paperback Edition: November 2013

  Kindle edition 978-0-9894925-7-7

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real person, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  To inquire about foreign, film or TV rights, please contact Elaine Spencer at The Knight Agency.

  prologue

  one

  two

  three

  four

  five

  six

  seven

  eight

  nine

  ten

  eleven

  twelve

  thirteen

  fourteen

  fifteen

  sixteen

  seventeen

  Jack’s Journal

  eighteen

  nineteen

  twenty

  twenty-one

  twenty-two

  twenty-three

  twenty-four

  twenty-five

  twenty-six

  twenty-seven

  twenty-eight

  twenty-nine

  thirty

  thirty-one

  thirty-two

  thirty-three

  thirty-four

  epilogue

  forever, jack playlist

  acknowledgements

  about the author

  To my husband

  for asking me to marry him on our first date

  And to

  Al Chaput and Dave McDonald

  I may never have taken writing seriously without you. I am forever grateful for your time, patience, encouragement and expertise.

  Thank you

  The sound of the front door slamming after Andy seems to jar everyone into action. Not me. My heart is pounding, my hand is throbbing, and my stomach is roiling, but I don’t move.

  “Jesus,” says Devon. He strides to stand beside me, the only friend I seem to have right now. “We need to get Sheila on the phone, like, yesterday. We need damage control. I’ve never trusted that little fucker.” He jerks his head after the agent I just fired.

  I replay the scene in my head. Andy’s smug face as he congratulated himself on keeping me in line by faking my girlfriend’s pregnancy. Girlfriend? Audrey may be my contractual girlfriend, but our relationship just had its final death throe.

  The mention of Sheila, my publicist, causes me to look up and stare Audrey straight in the eyes. She is standing there unmoving, I guess unsure of what to do since I snapped. Her brown eyes are large and watery. A look I’ve fallen for before. “Or does Sheila already know, Audrey? Was she in on this pregnancy hoax? Was this part of your team ‘management’ of poor fucking clueless Jack Eversea?” My voice is harsh, like I just screamed it hoarse. Something I wish I could do.

  She shakes her head vehemently, a tear streaking down her cheek.

  I grit my teeth against the instinctual urge to comfort and protect her like I always have. Ever since our contrived romance began years ago, brokered out of a movie franchise to keep the fans engaged in the love story. She was a friend, and at times something more. A partner. Or so I thought.

  Devon taps out something on his phone.

  After everything, I’m still finding it hard to believe Audrey’s lied to me like this. About something like this.

  “No, Jack. It wasn’t me, it was all Andy,” she tries.

  “Oh please, Audrey, show me the fucking courtesy of honesty at this point.”

  “I swear—”

  I snort dismissively.

  “Wait, Jack,” she pleads. “I went along with it, I admit, but it was his idea. I confided in him after I was … late.”

  I swallow hard. Oh my God. She was late. Of course she was. I’m guilty as charged. It’s why I believed her so readily. It’s why I left Butler Cove. The knowledge of my part in this cools my anger, leaving crashing guilt in its wake. Followed by equal parts panic. “So …” I start, keeping my voice as steady as possible. “So, are you still … late?” I can’t say pregnant anymore. I just assumed after what Andy said that she wasn’t, but …

  Audrey hiccups out a sob, and I take an instinctual step toward her, catching myself just in time. I take a moment to really look at her then and see true grief. Though her face is flushed and swollen from tears, she is still beautiful standing there in her white dress and her long dark, chestnut hair coming in gentle waves over her shoulder. She’s banking on this, I know. Banking on the fact that she is beautiful and we have … history. But I also see her sadness.

  It occurs to me then, that Audrey, far from filling contractual obligations in our friends-with-benefits pairing, might have truly been in love with me.

  Snippets of her words come back to me now with new meaning. About how suited we are, how it would be the last laugh if we eventually got married and had a family one day, how we’d be a team of respect and friendship.

  The idea that she might actually still be pregnant despite the fact that Andy used the news to their advantage makes my throat seize. No, she’s not. It wouldn’t have gone down like it did if she was. I feel like I’m drowning in some bizarre dream where the life raft is right there, but just out of reach.

  Blowing out a deep breath, I fist my good hand at my side and wince in pain as my injured hand tries to follow suit.

  Audrey hangs her head. “I lost it. I lost the baby,” she whispers, her voice breaking.

  My insides lurch violently. Nausea caused by the sickeningly sweet rush of relief, sandwiched between the hard press of guilt, leaves me swallowing back bile. I suck my lips between my teeth and bite down hard, trying to get my shit together. “When? Are you … are you ok?” I get out, finally. I’m vaguely aware that we are the only ones left in the room, the others having thankfully filed out.

  Her eyes flick down and she hesitates. “When we were in London.”

  For a moment, I don’t believe her, but I do remember her crying in the bathroom at the Lanesborough Hotel. I was being a complete dick to her and everyone around me that day. I was beating myself up about not calling my mother, even though she lived less than two hours away and knew I was there. It was a media circus outside, and I was a caged tiger. Luckily, we only had to be there for two nights before heading to Paris.

  “I’m sorry. I should’ve realized.” I run my good hand through my hair, and dropping my chin to my chest for a moment, see I have a few drops of blood on my white button-down shirt.

  Audrey hiccups again and takes two tentative steps toward me.

  I don’t stop her or move away, and she continues until I open my arms and fold them around her tall, slender body. And even still, after months, and in the midst of all this shit, I am wishing I had my arms wrapped around a smaller girl, a girl who flipped my insides over just looking at her, and who I may never get to hold like this again. I squeeze my eyes closed.

  Audrey’s shoulders shake from her crying, and she sniffs. “I love you, Jack.”

  Tensing, I ease away her head from my shoulder to look at her face. I am instantly on alert. She may be hurting right now, but Audrey should always be handled carefully. I’ve seen how she’s dealt with perceived threats to her career before. And I am in the starrin
g role of this perceived threat. I need to be able to do this on friendly terms, but the way she’s looking up at me, has me thinking she’s not on my page.

  “Just give it time, Jack. We’ll get back to where we were, where you were in love with me, before I hurt you.”

  My heart hammers. My God, she doesn’t know me at all. “Audrey,” I say as gently as possible, knowing there is no good way to say this. “I cared for you, do care for you, and I loved you, true. But I was never in love with you.”

  Her eyes widen.

  I know I’m botching this but I can’t seem to stop. It’s like an exit sprint. “My ego was hurt more than anything.”

  Her slap to my left cheek is fast and painful.

  I seem to excel in pulling this reaction from women. I don’t move, but she’s not done. Her face transforms into a scowl, and before I know it I have seized her flying fist in midair, gripping it inside my good hand, squeezing hard.

  “Bastard,” she snarls and tries with the other.

  I sway back. “Calm the fuck down, Audrey.”

  “No, I won’t fucking calm down,” she screeches. Her eyes have transformed from her soft doe-eyed expression, designed to elicit sympathy, into hard slits of anger, and she wrenches from my grip. “You are not doing this to me!”

  “Doing what, Audrey? Taking my life back? Ignoring some stupid contract? The movies are over now.” I grit my teeth and finish this. “We are over. We have been for ages. I’m not sure what qualifies for a functional relationship, but I can promise you, we are not it.”

  “No. You are not doing this to me! Not with her.”

  “Don’t you fucking dare bring her into this,” my voice booms out like thunder, causing her to jump.

  Her cheeks are red and splotchy, but crossing her arms over her chest, she recovers quickly. “I can do what the hell I like. But you can’t. Do you think Andy will take you firing him lying down? Or think I’ll let you walk away from me? We are a team, Jack. We are much more powerful together than we are apart. You need me. You may not think so, but you do. And do you know why? Because I’ll make sure you don’t even have a career if you walk away. Have you thought about what it’ll do to your poor, sweet country girl to have paparazzi hounding her every move. I didn’t want to draw attention to her before by tipping them off, but maybe if it’s spun the right way …” Her voice trails off, as she taps a fingernail thoughtfully on her chin.

  I’m listening, speechless, and watching her face morph into ugliness with each word she utters. My jaw clenches tightly to keep myself from exploding back at her. I shake my head.

  She turns to an imaginary person next to her. “I was driven to another man’s arms because Jack Eversea is so cold and heartless.” She affects a whiny, hurt voice. “I felt emotionally bullied, all the time.” She sniffs for effect and looks away for a moment. When she looks back, her eyes are watery again, and a single tear tips onto her cheek. “And the most horrible thing of all was he got me pregnant, and then, when I lost his baby he was so mean, and so relieved. He laughed and told me he had never been in love with me. Laughed!”

  She heaves out another sob. “All the time I thought we were together, he was sleeping with slutty waitresses he picked up from anywhere. There was this one girl—” She stops and looks at me. “Well, you know where I can go from there.”

  She wipes carefully under her eyes, and then lets out a shrill laugh. “Your face is priceless, Jack.”

  I take a step back and bump into a chair, sinking down on it gratefully. I need a few moments to clear my head. My hand fucking hurts like hell, but right now this Audrey, like a grenade with the pin out, is scaring the shit out of me.

  I’m not sure how she and Andy can ruin my career, what she’s threatening is bad enough, but I feel pretty sure Audrey has thought long and hard about it and has a few aces up her sleeve.

  I think back to my early days—the stupid partying and drug taking. If there’s even a chance Peak Entertainment thinks I’m still doing that, they’ll drop me faster than I could piss in a bottle. Their liability won’t cover it, and it was part of the no-uncertain-terms deal of doing the Erath movies, as well as the upcoming films they’ve contracted me for.

  If Peak drops me, there’s not a chance in hell any smaller boys would pick me up. Gossip is king in this town. But worse is they could sue me to pay back what I’ve made from them until now, and Audrey knows it.

  At this moment, I realize Audrey will say anything and make up any story to make sure I play by her rules. I’ve known this fall out was always a risk, but I truly never thought Audrey would be the enemy here. I never thought she’d be the one to drive the nail in my coffin. I thought she might want out as much as I did, that we would find a way to do it together.

  How could I have been naïve about so many things? And now she’s threatening Keri Ann too, and if I know Audrey, it won’t be idle and it won’t just be damage. Keri Ann will be decimated.

  I clutch my head and breathe, trying to calm down. One fist through a wall is enough for tonight. I don’t know how to appeal to her not to do this to me. I don’t want to make the choice she’s forcing on me. But I will. I’ll walk away from it all. I almost did it before, but then there was the baby. The baby that doesn’t fucking exist.

  It would be a while before people got over the scandal enough not to make me a bucket of chum in the Indian Ocean. If ever. And where would I go this time? And for how long until people didn’t care? By then I would have lost my career and the girl. Of course, I’ve probably lost her already.

  “Please, Audrey—”

  “And just what are you begging for, Jack?” Her haughty tone betrays nothing of the hurt emotions she was portraying just minutes ago.

  I tilt my head back up and look her straight in the eye. “I’m begging for the rest of my life.”

  Five Months Later …

  I rolled up the windows in the pickup as I glanced nervously at the heaving pregnant grey bellies of the clouds above me. It was just in time, too. The first fat raindrop splattered over the windshield, followed by a deluge, as the cloud waters broke.

  I flicked on the wipers, peering ahead at the bright sunshine that shone up the road and shook my head. Nana always used to call this A Monkey’s Wedding. I had no idea what that meant, still didn’t, but there’d be a heck of a rainbow in a few minutes. I’d have to look out for it. The April showers were incessant this year.

  A shrill ring emanated over the loud roar of the heavy drops hitting the truck, and I felt around blindly on the seat next to me trying not to take my eyes off the slick road.

  “Hello.”

  “Hey, sweetheart. You almost here?” Colton’s deep voice comforted me.

  I tucked the cell under my chin so I could keep two hands on the wheel as the road got trickier to manage. “Yeah. Almost. I hate driving in the rain. Did you miss it?”

  “Just. I wish you’d let me drive you.”

  “I know, Colt. But surely you have other stuff to do besides take care of your best friend’s baby sister coz he’s too freaking busy to come home. This way you can get on with your day after you help me unload this stuff.”

  There was a beat of silence on the other end of the phone.

  “Colt?”

  “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I’m here. I’m parked at the service entrance. When you get to the front of the Westin, drive to the left around the building.” The line went dead.

  I let the phone slide down to my lap and pursed my lips as I squinted through the water-distorted view. It was dumb to make the baby sister reference again. But it was Joey who was supposed to help me drop these pieces off for the exhibit. He was the one who called Colt when he couldn’t make it. Setting me up again.

  “Shit,” I muttered. I shouldn’t have agreed to go out with Colt when my heart wasn’t in it. He was such a nice guy. Well actually, several girls in Savannah would probably disagree with me, but he was nice to me. Too nice. I was leading him on, and I knew i
t. Even though I’d told him, repeatedly, I wasn’t ready for a serious relationship.

  But a month ago, I’d capitulated. Well, I had agreed to go out to dinner with him. Like a date. One dinner. That had turned into a couple of other dinner occasions, taking me for lunch after I went to drop something at the admissions office at SCAD, going to a few movies, kayaking trips on Saturday mornings, and heck … we were basically dating. Or at least special-friending as Mrs. Weaton, my elderly tenant, called it. I snorted and rolled my eyes. I felt bad. It was exactly why I hadn’t asked him to help me out today.

  The rain finally eased up as I turned off William Hilton Parkway toward Port Royal Plantation and made my way under the canopy of curvy live oaks that lined the main driveway.

  “Is that it, then?” Colt asked as I brought the last piece, a base for the sculpture I had made, from the truck. His dark hair was cropped short, making him look a little like a marine.

  I nodded. “I just have to do the install on a few pieces. This, for example,” I said heaving my load up slightly. “Thank you so much for helping, I know you probably have to get going.”

  He rocked back on his heels and stuffed his fingers into the front pockets of his distressed khaki jeans. “I’d like to stay and watch, if that’s ok?” He looked at me questioningly.

  “Uh, yeah, sure.”

  “Then afterward I can buy you an early dinner at View 32.” He paused, trying to sound innocent. “Since we’re here and all.”

  I shook my head as I laid down the piece I was holding, but I was smiling. He never gave up. “You don’t have to buy me dinner, but food would be good.”

  He smirked with satisfaction and came close, sliding a hand around the back of my neck and depositing a kiss onto my forehead. And I swear, I swear, he inhaled just a little.

  Pulling away, I elbowed him jovially in the ribs.

  I worked fast, and then checked in with the events coordinator, Allison, before heading back to find Colt. I’d met Allison at my opening at the Picture This Gallery back in December. She’d invited me to be a part of this exhibit. Soon I’d be back here on Hilton Head Island for a black-tie cocktail party, with me as one of the star guests. It seemed totally surreal. And all my sweet friends in Butler Cove were raiding wedding rental companies for formal attire. Who knew what I was going to wear? It sent me into a flat panic every time it crossed my mind, so I tried not to let it. Now the party was just around the corner, and I was still dress-less.