Tough Luck (A-List Security 1)

“What made you decide to get sober? A lot of people never seem to get a wake-up call.” He inhaled sharply, and I had a feeling he was thinking about his folks. “Especially not as young as you. And you seem determined to make it stick.”

Huh. I probably should have expected this question. My answer was going to take a minute, so I paced away to flop in one of the chairs. “I did rehab before. When Geek Chorus ended, I went straight to Campus Friends, and that’s when everything got so much worse. I wanted out from under my mom’s thumb, and partying seemed like a great rebellion. So stupid.”

“Most kids do their share of stupid stuff. They just don’t have cameras rolling.” Cash took the other chair.

“Yeah, well, the studio wasn’t paying for my bad decisions. They sent me to my first rehab. They kept it hush-hush, but everyone knew anyway. Didn’t last because I had the same friends, same problems. I sobered up again for the court case against my mom, but I quickly got sucked back in. Then my makeup artist got cancer.” As soon as I said it, my throat closed up and swallowing didn’t help.

“Your makeup artist?” A crease appeared on Cash’s forehead.

“I know. It sounds weird, but you have to understand that I had the same makeup person the entire time I was on Geek Chorus. Gloria was like a nicer, more down-to-earth second mom.” I was still struggling to not get choked up, and my voice was more emotional than I would have liked. But if that made Cash uncomfortable, so be it. This part of the story was important. “She always looked out for me. I threw a fit until Campus Friends hired her as well. She grounded me. Wouldn’t let me get away with being a brat. And wouldn’t let me around her or her family if I wasn’t sober.”

“Sounds like a great lady.” Cash leaned forward in his chair as if he really did want me to keep going.

“Yeah. She was my rock when I sued my mom, and she kept telling me my lifestyle was killing me slowly.”

“Probably wasn’t wrong.” Cash glanced away, staring at the woodstove and its pale orange glow.

“Yup. But it took her getting breast cancer a couple of years ago before I could admit it. That was my wake-up call. She flat out said she wouldn’t always be around to tell me to get my act together.” My voice cracked around the last part. So much for not getting choked up. But then Cash reached over and patted my knee, and I could breathe enough to keep going. “And then I saw her being an absolute warrior. So strong for her husband and kids. Life is so fucking unfair, but she didn’t complain. Just took on this huge monster. I figured if she could do that, I could give rehab one more try. For her.”

“Yeah.” Cash’s tone was guarded, and I got it. I’d heard it enough in rehab that sobriety couldn’t be solely for someone else.

“The ‘for me’ part came later. Thank you, rehab counseling.” I gave a shaky laugh. “But while I was there, she took a turn for the worse. And I went for this long hike in the woods. And I told the universe that if she could make it, I’d stay sober.”

“Hell of a bargain.”

“Yeah, probably not my smartest hour.” I said what he was too nice to call me on. “But she rallied. Chemo started working. I was all cocky for a few days. And then my counselor asked what I’d do if she got sick again. And I thought about how far I’d come. I didn’t ever want to go back to who I used to be. I’d worked so hard to be in charge of my own life. It wouldn’t simply be letting her down. It would be letting me down too. So, yeah, I did it for her, but somewhere along the way, I did it for me too.”

“Wow.” Cash swallowed audibly. Maybe I wasn’t the only one getting overly emotional. “That’s…I bet she’s proud of you.”

“She is. But I’m proud of me too. That matters.” My voice was stronger now. Me. I was stronger. Far stronger than I’d ever thought, that was for sure.

“For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you too.” Cash patted my knee again, but when he would have withdrawn his hand, I grabbed it and held tight.

“It’s worth a lot.” I squeezed his hand, and surprisingly, he didn’t pull away. His hand was big and solid against my own, and I never wanted to let it go. But of course, I had to. Reluctantly, I released him and made my voice cheery. “So how about it? Let me show you the bedtime yoga?”