Poor, Maddie. He was such an asshole. Has anybody heard from her?
She’s in the member list, doofus. So be careful what you say.
Guys, nobody is inviting Brad. And yes, I’ve invited Maddie. I’m closing the comments. Let’s concentrate on the reunion, okay?
Maddie ignored the way her hands were shaking as she pressed the ‘decline invitation’ button, before closing down Facebook. For good measure, she uninstalled the app and threw her phone down on her bed.
There was no way she was going to the reunion, Brad Rickson or no Brad Rickson.
So why did it feel like somebody was stabbing her in the gut?
* * *
The circus arrived at ten o’clock on Monday morning. Okay, so there weren’t animals or clowns spilling out of the black sedans at the end of the driveway, but as Gray watched his manager, the journalist, a photographer, a makeup artist, and a hairdresser walk up the graveled path, it felt like his sleepy home town was being invaded.
“Wow,” Becca breathed, as she stood next to him and stared out of the living room window. “They’ve come mob-handed.” She looked at him and grinned. “You will tell them about me beating you at Karaoke, right?”
Gray raised an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure they’ll ask you some questions. You can spill the beans if you want.”
She grinned. “I can?” Her eyes widened as she took in the huge cases the makeup artist and hairdresser were wheeling. “Do you think they’ll want to take a photo of me, too?”
“I can ask them.” He smiled at her. “Not for the magazine, though. Just for you to keep.” The thought of exposing Becca to the world like that made him want to squirm.
“Yay!” Becca clapped her hands. “Yes, please.”
Ten minutes later and they were all clustered in Aunt Gina’s kitchen, drinking freshly-made iced tea. Even though the kitchen was large, it felt claustrophobic with so many strangers sitting around the table. Even still, Aunt Gina was doing her best to make them feel welcome.
“Can I offer you some cake?” she asked them. All six shook their heads in horror, like she was trying to give them some kind of poison.
“What about lunch?” she asked. “Will everybody want something to eat?”
Marco shook his head. “We’ll probably take Gray around the town to shoot some photos. We can pick something up there. Do you have a juice bar?”
“A juice bar?” Aunt Gina repeated, her brows pulled together.
“We don’t have a juice bar,” Becca said, biting down a grin. “But we have a diner.”
“We can head over to Stanhope for lunch,” Gray added hastily. “There are a few locations that way that should give us some good shots.”
“What’s wrong with the diner?” Aunt Gina asked.
“Yeah, you seem to spend a lot of time there,” Becca added, a wicked gleam in her eye.
“You do?” Rick Charles, the lead writer for Rock Magazine scribbled something on the pad in front of him. “I’d like to check it out. A few photographs in there could work.”
“I don’t spend a lot of time in there,” Gray told him. “I’m mostly in the summer house at the end of the backyard. That’s where I write my songs. You could take photographs there.”
“Can I take a look?” Andie, the photographer asked. “I want to see which way the light is facing.”
“Sure. It’s out there,” Gray pointed at the door.
“I’ll come, too,” the make-up artist said. “I can work out what kind of products we’ll need.”
“I can show you the way if you like,” Becca suggested, finishing the last of her tea. She
glanced at Gray for his approval, and he nodded. “It was like Gray’s second home growing up. He wanted to move his bedroom out there, but dad said no.”
“Where is your father?” Rick asked, looking around the room. “He still lives here, right?”