“We shouldn’t,” I add. “You’re welcome to see them if you want, Cara, but I’m not gonna turn into a groupie for him.” Turning on my heel, I start to leave, but stop when I hear Dalton behind me.
“Holliday?”
“Fame brings out the worst in everyone, including myself.” ~Johnny Outlaw
What am I thinking? Why did I stop? Fight your instincts and move forward like you didn’t hear your name roll of his slick tongue like honey. Go. This is the last chance to save your heart.
Closing my eyes, I drop my head down, willing my feet to move, but my heart’s desire is too strong.
He’s so close. I can smell him, reminding me of this afternoon. “Look at me, Holliday.” I turn, lifting my head and opening my eyes, meeting his. His hands are close, so close to touching me, but he pulls back. “What are you doing here?” he asks.
“I came to see a concert,” I say, looking around at the people passing by and staring at us, at him.
He turns his back to them and moves closer. “Can we talk about this privately?”
“Holli? You okay out here?” I look to my left and see Jack from dinner standing there looking pensive, his tone stern.
Dalton eyes him, probably sizing him up. In the meantime, Cara steps forward and introduces herself, “I’m Cara Leeds. I’d love to talk about marketing opportunities over dinner sometime.”
My mouth is wide open until Tracy whispers, “She’s a shark.”
“Johnny, Dex sent me to get you,” some sleazy woman with fake everything says while trying to pose provocatively against the door that leads backstage. “We’re waiting for you.”
Dalton doesn’t acknowledge them, fully focused on me. “Please,’ he asks, “can we talk?”
Glancing at Tracy, she slowly nods. She’s the only one I trust here, so I take a deep breath then sigh when I release it. “Fine.”
Abruptly, he turns and I begin to follow him. “I’ll be back. Wait for me,” I whisper to Tracy over my shoulder.
Cara steps forward and asks, “Can we come?”
But Tracy handles her. “They want privacy.”
Dalton leads me down a side corridor to a door that blends in with the wall, no doorknob. He hits it twice with his fist and it opens. A very large man eyes us and then signals us in, moving out of the way to let us pass. We take a right and then the first left into a room with a paper sign taped to the door that reads ‘Johnny Outlaw.’
“You’re Johnny Outlaw,” I read aloud, astonished, the sign finally solidifying the information. “You’re a rock star.”
He stops in the middle of the room and looks me straight in the eyes. “I’m more than that, Holliday,” he says, putting his arms out to the side. “I’m also Jack Dalton.”
“Hardly.”
“I didn’t lie to you. I am Jack Dalton. That’s my real name.”
“This is an age old quandary. Is leaving information out lying or just a simple omission? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I liked you. I liked that you didn’t know. You didn’t recognize me and you didn’t question.”
“Guess I should have but asking someone if they’re famous isn’t usually on the first date agenda.”
“That’s my point. You liked me for me, the real me, not the stage me. Don’t be mad.”
My voice automatically rises because he doesn’t seem to understand how stupid I feel. “I’m upset because as much as you think you gave me the real you, you didn’t. You kind of left out a major detail.”
When he comes toward me, I take a few steps back. I don’t want to be sweet talked into giving in. I have a feeling that tactic works way too often for him.
“I trusted you,” he says, his voice quieter. “I told you things—”
“You told me you were from Texas. The damn tattoo can tell me that. You gave me nothing authentic.”
He looks down. “That’s not true.”
When he looks up again, I say, “It is. It’s truer than the few moments of intimacy we shared. The sex was good, but now I doubt the sincerity behind it. Did you think I would tell the world about you? Was that why you pulled away from me last night? You made me expose more of myself than I normally would and in the end, for what? A fucking hookup on vacation? You protected yourself and your image, but left me here to feel like a complete fool. I’m so stupid I didn’t know and you let me feel that way to save your great Johnny Outlaw’s imag—”
“That’s not true. I never thought you’d talk to the press. Fuck! Why are you making this so hard? Why am I apologizing to you like I did something wrong?”