"You graduated summa cum laude," Iz says. "You were a Rhodes Scholar with honors. Fucking Yale. The administration plucked you from three hundred applicants to be my teacher's assistant this semester and you want, what? Some rapper's autograph?"
He bends a look of unnecessary apology toward me. "No offense, Grip."
"None taken." I laugh. "I am some rapper. I'm a lot richer than you, though. That's a small consolation."
"Asshole." He chuckles and shakes his head at the smartass comeback.
Fortunately, neither of us takes ourselves too seriously, which is probably why we get along so well.
"I can be all those things," Callie asserts, elevating one eyebrow. "And still be a fan, still love music, still appreciate a man who stands for something, who distinguishes himself from the rest of the herd and their bullshit. It's why I wanted to work with you."
She pauses just long enough for her words to sink in before going on.
"Was I wrong, Iz?"
The amusement withers on his face, and the current passing between the two of them makes me feel superfluous, like I'm in the way of something that started before I got here, something that has happened before.
"Thanks for bringing my laptop," Iz says evenly, not addressing her question.
She lopsides him a grin that says, That's what I thought, turns on her heel, and starts toward the door.
"See you gentlemen in class," she tosses over her shoulder.
A hundred of my unspoken questions pucker the silence she leaves behind.
"Soooooo . . . have you two-"
"Don't." He aims a warning over the rims of his glasses.
I raise my palms up as defense against the intensity of that look.
"There was just a vibe, sexual tension or-"
"There's no sexual anything." His words slice into the space of the booth separating us. "She's one step removed from being my student, and I don't fuck my students."
"Well, speaking as one of your students, I'm glad to hear it."
The grin he concedes breaks the scowl on his face.
"I just wanna go on record as saying if you ever change your mind about fucking your students"-I knock back the rest of my Ting-"she'd be a great place to start."
13
Bristol
"Kai's on in five." The production assistant hands me a lapel mic and checks something off on her clipboard. "If you can have her put this on, we'll make sure it's properly positioned when she comes out."
"Uh, yeah." Leaned against Kai's dressing room door, I glance up from my iPad. "She'll be ready. Thank you."
Five minutes. The countdown on Angie Black's YouTube channel says the live feed starts in five minutes, too. I know Grip's been looking forward to this Artists As Activists panel, but I'm not as excited. Seeing him with Qwest might only further water the seeds of insecurity Jade planted and I allowed to take root, at least a little. I'll check back in a few minutes, but now I need to get Kai onstage for her performance.
"You ready?" I ask once inside her dressing room.
Kai raises wide eyes, pressing a silencing finger to her lips. Aria has fallen asleep at her breast. I've seen Kai feed my niece too many times to count, but never wearing a beaded halter top, leather pants, and full face of makeup. Her dark hair is flat-ironed and falling nearly to her waist. She carefully extracts her breast from Aria's little rosebud mouth and gently places her in a travel playpen. She literally hasn't missed a beat, dropping all her baby weight and her first solo album to rule the charts.
She picks up her phone and turns a pout in my direction.
"No messages from Rhyson." She sighs and faces the mirror to check her makeup.
"He hasn't landed in Prague yet. He'll call when he gets there." I consider her reflection and dig into the bag her stylist left behind. "Try these earrings instead."
"I'm exhausted. Aria was up all night teething." She changes out the earrings, closes her eyes. "And I miss my husband."
Her eyes pop open to meet mine in the mirror, and her smile teases me.
"I guess you miss Grip, too, huh?"
"Yeah." I check the iPad once more-three minutes. "He has this panel airing in a few minutes that I need to watch. Qwest is on it, too."
I try to keep my voice neutral, but something must tip Kai off because she offers a reassuring smile I don't want her to know I need.
"You know you have nothing to worry about, right?" She turns and perches on the edge of the dressing room table. "Grip has been in love with you as long as I've known him, and he's ecstatic to finally have you."
"I know." I force the words, blowing my nervous energy out in a sigh. "But he was with her, and I can't help but think she still has feelings for him. I trust him."
"Good, because he'll never give you reason not to."
A text message lights Kai's phone on the dressing room table. She grabs it, smiling and responding.
"Rhyson?" I guess.
"No, my sister." Kai grimaces. "Half-sister. She lives in Vegas with my dad and . . . his wife."
I notice she doesn't say stepmother. Kai and I haven't talked much about her complicated history with her father, but I know they've been working on their relationship.
"She's wishing me luck." Kai sets the phone down and meets my eyes with a soft smile. "She's a great kid."
"You guys are close?"
"Getting there. We talk more than . . . well, more than I talk to my father."
"Thank you for encouraging Rhyson to work on things with our parents," I say. "Seeing you do it has helped him a lot."
"I try, but it's not easy. My father ruined my mom's life for a while." Pain etches lines between her brows. "He hurt a lot of people-the church he abandoned, his community."
"You?" I venture quietly.
Kai looks up, blinking a few times and drawing a shallow breath.
"Yeah, me." She glances at Aria, a tender smile tugging at her lips. "He was my world. I think sometimes we don't realize that for our kids, we're everything. I mean, friends and family, of course, and as they get older, maybe their peers have more influence, but we're what they see most. I was a daddy's girl, through and through."
"And he left with her? With his current wife?"
"Yeah, she was pregnant." Kai licks her lips before going on. "She was the secretary at our church, where he was the pastor."
"Wow." I wrestle with surprise and disgust. "Another reason to skip religion."
Kai considers me in silence for a few seconds, crossing one ankle over the other before speaking.
"I get that." Her harsh laugh splinters in the air. "Hell, I felt that. For a while I wasn't sure what I believed because most of it came from my dad."
She drops her eyes to the floor.
"And I didn't believe in him anymore." She shrugs. "But liars can tell the truth. It took me a long time to figure out that just because my dad lied about his affair, it didn't mean every sermon, every Bible story, everything he told me about God was a lie."
"Is that why you're church shopping?" I give her a smile so she'll know I'm not mocking her.
Kai rolls her eyes and grins.
"Rhyson probably thinks I'm crazy. I know he's not big on faith."
"He has faith in you," I assure her. "He loves you more than anything."
"The woman he loves was shaped by my father," she says. "By my mother even more, but my faith was shaped by my dad. There's not a doubt in my mind that, in spite of his flaws, he understands faith. He understands God, even if he doesn't always follow. I've finally managed to sift out what was his and what's mine, what I want to keep and what I don't need. I want to pass that on to Aria. She'll have to go through the same process, decide what part of what I've shared is for her and what is not, but I want her to know that part of her mother."
Her smile wavers, bitterness leveling it out.
"The way I know that part of my father, the way I know all of his parts . . . even the ones I wish weren't there."
Three quick raps at the door interrupt and signal that it's time. Kai glances again at Aria sleeping peacefully, reluctance to leave obvious on her face.
"Don't worry, I got her." I open the door for the production assistant, who looks at me expectantly. "She'll be right out. Thanks."
When I turn back, Kai is leaning over the pen, smiling.
"Okay. I'll be back." She gives me a knowing look. "And don't be paranoid about Qwest and the panel. She's a great girl. It's no secret she and I are friends, and I feel for her, for how things happened, but Grip has never really been anyone's but yours. Remember that."
With one last glance in the mirror, she's out the door. I turn on the monitor mounted in the corner to watch the feed of Kai's performance but mute it to focus on the panel that is just starting online.