My jaw dropped open. “She actually said that?”
“Oh yeah,” she shook her head. “Here I was, thinking I was being nice by letting her know that he didn’t just screw me over. He screwed her over, too. But karma ended up biting her in the ass in the end.”
“How so?”
“See, that’s the funny thing about a mistress. They think they have all the benefits that the married woman doesn’t have. But they’re wrong,” her lips quirked in a slightly menacing smile. “When Austin died, we were in marriage counseling, but we weren’t even legally separated. So as much as the entire situation sucked, after the shock wore off and the funeral was over, I got all the life insurance money and she got . . .”
“Nothing,” I answered for her.
“Not even recognition that she had been part of his life for almost three years,” she continued. “At that point, I was so pissed off at her and Austin both, I made sure she wasn’t allowed access into the funeral home. She didn’t get to come to the wake or the funeral to say goodbye.
“Wow,” I said with a smile. “I didn’t know you had it in you to be such a bitch.”
“I’ve got no sympathy. If you’ve been duped into an affair without knowing a man is married, I can feel for you. But if you knowingly have an affair with a married man, you deserve what you get. Especially after you’ve been caught and have a chance to make it right,” she said with a wave of her hand like the woman was right here and she was dismissing her. “Anyway, this is depressing. Let’s talk about something else. When did your mom get remarried?”
I smiled at her change of topic. “Only a couple of years ago, actually.”
“Really?” she asked, her eyebrows raised. “That recently?”
“Yeah, I asked her about that, actually,” I said, looking out the front window as we made our way down the highway. “She said she just never met anyone that interested her until Rick came along.”
“Wow,” Addison said. “What’s Rick like?”
I looked back over at her. “He writes fiction books of some sort. I guess he’s got some best sellers on the New York Times list, or something like that. I don’t read a lot, so I don’t know much about it.”
“So he’s famous,” she added.
“Yeah. It was kind of funny the first time I met him. I’m always really leery when I meet people because I just don’t know what people’s intentions are, and if you’re involved with my mom, I’m especially careful,” I shrugged. “Turns out, he has the same problem. Book nerds can apparently get pretty crazy. But he’s a good guy. I’m glad she found him.”
We talked more about our families as we drove. I found out that she has a sister and two nieces who live in Kansas near her parents. She found out about my unnatural obsession with the show “Outlander”, despite it being a “chick show.”
I found out she’d been in two fistfights in her life, more than me . . . one over a box of Girl Scout cookies she and another little girl both claimed to have sold. The other when she broke an ex-boyfriend’s nose after he dumped her at prom.
She found out I’d only been in one fistfight . . . in sixth grade when Darrin Schneider called Lindsay a brace face and made her cry.
We never seemed to run out of topics and the conversation was really easy. She only looked at her phone one time and it was when she thought she felt it vibrate and was worried it was Jaxon. It wasn’t.
We got to Southside Ballroom at eight-oh-five on the dot. We timed it so most everyone would already be in their seats. Musicians always ran late, so I wasn’t worried about missing much of the show.
Once security verified that we were in the right place and gave us some VIP lanyards to wear so we didn’t run into any trouble, the driver came around and opened the door for us. When I stepped out, I used the opportunity to grab Addison’s hand and help her out. And then I just kept holding onto her hand. See? Stealth.
We followed security inside and only stopped to grab a couple drinks from the VIP bar. By the time we made it to our seats, Santana was on stage and they were well into their first song.
Our seats were on the side, right next to the stage, sort of in the area where security hung out watching for über fans. We were hidden from the people around us by a heavy black curtain. I guess we were sitting in private seats the venue had put together just for us. The people across the way could see us if they looked. But for the most part, no one was looking anywhere but the stage.
Carlos Santana and his band rocked the stage for over two hours without stopping. It was incredible. Especially when you take his age into consideration. He could still totally jam. Addison and I danced and sang, but sometimes we sat and just held hands, enjoying the show. It was fantastic. There’s just something about a rock star that gives away guitar picks while he’s playing and accepts gifts from fans during the show that made him so much cooler than just a guy who plays guitar on stage. He was a fan of his fans. It was the kind of guy I wanted to be to my fans.