On Wednesday, Flutter, the fifth Hall Affinity album, finally hit streaming devices and shelves. It reached the number one position the following week, three days before the annual Bowl N’ Roll event. The same evening, Dante was added to the charity’s list of attending guests.
I contemplated asking Levi to take Shayne instead. My heart was too fragile to withstand another assault. But Linda confirmed Dante Martinez wasn’t doing any interviews.
I spent the rest of the month searching for a new venue. Unfortunately, all my efforts were to no avail, which only caused more tension between Levi and me. Isabella was booked for a series of shows and charity appearances in Seattle and we couldn’t postpone it any longer. The screening had to happen before the second week of April.
In my defense, I continued to grill the managers of the clubs that were still undecided and even reached out to a couple of places who’d rejected the project. Bottom line: I was desperate. I was ready to work with anything. Even the back of a restaurant as long as it could fit a stage and a projector.
Unlike my heart, my new ink healed nicely. Jax had wonderful hands. The needle was his paintbrush. At first, the idea of having a comic book character imprinted onto my skin had seemed crazy, but the moment he showed me the sketch, I knew she was the one.
She was a representation of the new me. A warrior. An independent woman who didn’t need a man, even if said man kept sending her flowers every week like clockwork, long after his calls and texts had stopped, long after he’d vanished. From my life. From the public eye.
Gone.
I’d made it clear when we last spoke that I didn’t want him to seek me out anymore. His silence could mean many things. Maybe he’d checked into rehab just like he’d promised or maybe he’d gone on another drinking spree. Maybe neither of those things. Whatever he’d chosen, we’d fallen apart. We were an affair that hadn’t lasted. A relationship that hadn’t withstood the storm.
A fading memory.
Having Heidi Fox tarnish this memory during Bowl N’ Roll wasn’t something I’d been prepared for. Meeting ex-Mrs. Blade in general wasn’t something I’d been prepared for. We didn’t run in the same circles. The chances of us ever bumping into each other were very slim. Practically nonexistent.
After Heidi and Frank called it quits, she stopped hanging out with musicians and left the scene. According to her 2013 Cosmopolitan interview, they were too unstable. A couple of months later, her name had resurfaced online. She’d been rumored to date some billionaire from Costa Rica. That hadn’t lasted long. Up next was a famous tennis player. Then an A-list Hollywood actor. Heidi Fox didn’t waste any time. Especially since time hadn’t been kind to her. She wasn’t a glorified girl-next door with golden skin and perfect blond hair anymore. Just like Frank, she was the victim of a scalpel. She was a nicely packaged product to sell. In her early thirties, the woman was still beautiful—tall, fit, long-legged with perfect facial features and impeccable makeup, but when it came down to it, Heidi Fox was merely a pretty girlfriend-for-hire. Whatever happened to her aspirations to change the world?
Heidi was making her way through the upper concourse of the bowling alley in the company of Caleb Waters when I saw her from my spot across from the step and repeat area set up in the reception of the bowling center.
Earlier red carpet attendees had already been teamed up and escorted to their lanes. Bets had been made. Drinks and appetizers had been served. The floor buzzed with energy. Starstruck ticket holders chased after celebs. Security chased after starstruck ticket holders. Those who didn’t want to be bothered hid in the private rooms upstairs.
The newly arriving guests were lined up for a photo op by the PR girls running the event.
Levi and I had been here since five. We planned to wrap it up after catching the last wave of VIPs who arrived late.
Bowl N’ Roll was by far one of the most tiresome charities of the season. A casual snob-fest. Usually, I enjoyed it. But not this year. Reason number one, Dante’s presence, although he’d only shown up on the red carpet for a photo session and we hadn’t had a chance to talk. Reason number two, the countless stares of other guests and the press. Darn you, Frank! Reason number three was walking through the concourse next to the skateboarding sensation right now.
“Hey!” Levi’s head emerged from behind the camera. Pulling his phone out to summon Carlos back to the red carpet, he jerked his chin at the group of people moving in our direction.
“I know,” I mouthed, trying my best not to roll my eyes as every single reporter gawked at me. Being under a microscope drove me nuts. Sometimes I felt like I couldn’t be myself anymore. One wrong move or word and I’d end up on TMZ again. Like I had last week. Someone had taken photos of me leaving my gym, and a few days later, they’d appeared on various Hall Affinity fan sites and had eventually made it to a few tabloids.
At least people who worked the red carpet refrained from calling me names or asking me questions about Frank. My Twitter and Instagram, on the other hand, were flooded with message requests from certified weirdos. People didn’t seem to grasp the concept of privacy.
Levi and I shared a concerned look as the couple strode over. Cameras flashed. Voices grew louder. Caleb Waters was obviously the main attraction. The biggest name in skateboarding after Tony Hawk, the man had just signed a ten-million-dollar deal with Nike.
The PR gal leapt over to the center of the step and repeat and held up a sign with Caleb and Heidi’s names. A few reporters who had no idea who the two were made notes. Others plunged forward. In my peripheral, I saw Carlos. Both cameras up in the air, he ripped through the crowd and pushed his way to the front of the line.
My palm that was wrapped around the base of the microphone dampened. My cheeks hurt from hours of smiling. The unraveling chaos became too much, and I hated Frank for making me despise something I’d once loved—doing press.
Caleb was battling a barrage of questions while a silent Heidi clung to his arm. They moved along, nearing our side of the red carpet. A microphone was thrust at them right before they met up with Levi’s camera. More questions poured from the guy to my right. I stepped back, contemplating whether Caleb Waters was worth the hassle. Rewired readers probably didn’t care about skateboarding.
“I think I’m skipping this one,” I whispered to Levi.
“Are we done then?” He surveyed the reception area to make sure we didn’t miss anyone. When I followed his lead, I caught a glimpse of Dante’s hat bobbing above the heads of the people crowding lane twenty-two. I heard a long rumble of the ball, followed by the crash as it knocked into the pins. Everyone on the floor cheered and clapped.
“Yes. Let’s pack.” I nodded, returning my gaze to Levi.
He reached for the LED panel to turn it off. As if on cue, one of the PR girls leapt over. Then she grabbed my elbow and said in a low voice, “I know Rewired doesn’t feature sports, but Caleb is endorsing Richie Kingston’s next record. He’d appreciate you helping him to get the word out.”
“Our readers are mainly rock music fans,” I said with a smile. Turning down an interview with a person who had over five million followers on Instagram went against my beliefs, but I had no desire to be anywhere near Frank’s ex right now, even if her new beau was in cahoots with a Grammy nominee. “I’m not sure how well the interview would be received by our target audience.”