at anyone!” Tracy protested.
“Oh?” Leif inquired casually. “You could have fooled me. ”
“Yes, and you can fool anyone, can’t you? You’re trying to sizzle my grandfather. Well, I’m sorry, I haven’t vindicated you as yet, Mr. Johnston.”
“Tracy, you don’t believe that.”
“No? I should believe my mother is a murderess?”
He shook his head and stooped to pick up the coffeepot. “Tracy, I merely said—”
“You didn’t ‘merely’ say anything. You were vicious.”
“Wait a minute!”
Jamie paused in his endeavors and lifted his hand, a pained expression on his face. He smiled ruefully at them both.
“I’m just going to go lock myself in my closet for a while, huh? I—uh—well, I love you both, and I’m not so sure I want to be a part of this. Settle things between you, huh?”
He turned around, walked away—and pointedly closed the door to his bedroom.
Both Leif and Tracy were silent for several seconds. Leif continued picking things up—it was still going to look bad when room service showed up.
Tracy really didn’t feel very guilty—he had been baiting her, and they both knew it. But in the stiff silence that followed her brother’s departure, she swallowed hard and set to replacing the now ragged tablecloth. To her great discomfort, she paused, aware that Leif had done so, that he was quietly watching her.
“He’s right, you know. This isn’t fair to him,” said Leif.
“This isn’t fair to anyone,” Tracy retorted sharply. She set a pile of silverware back on the table, then paused again, her fingers shaking . He hadn’t ceased watching her —not for one moment—and she had that feeling again that he was after something more.
She looked up at him; shadowed smoky eyes shielded all his thoughts again.
“Well,” he murmured, “I’ve got a few calls to make before tonight. Jamie has to be at setup by nine.”'
He didn’t move though. Tracy lowered her eyes and went back to righting the positions of things on the table. “You’ve been with him all through the tour?”
“It hasn’t been that long a tour. Three months. Paris, London, Rome, Atlanta, Chicago, L.A., and New York. A nice roundup for his first time out.”
She found herself looking at him again. “You always hated to tour.”
“Yeah. Well, it was his first time out. He’s only twenty. I wanted to see him come out of it as a level-headed human being. Jamie is a real nice kid. And talented.”
“And everyone is comparing him to our father.”
“That’s natural.”
“I suppose.”
“How can it be that none of the tabloids have picked up on you?”
“I stay in the background.”
“You’re still working. I saw your last video. It was good.”
“Thanks. And by the way, I’m the one who bought your last set of songs. You’ll hear some of them tonight.”
Her head shot up at that. “What?”
“Tracy—I am L & L Incorporated. I’m the one who bought your last set of songs. I gave them to Jamie— they’ll be his next album.”
“But—”
“You are T. B. Decker—among your other names. I do know that much. But you’ve also got one terrific agent—I was ready to beg, borrow, or steal for your address.”
She gasped, stunned that he knew that much. “She never told me that you were looking for me.”
He grimaced. “I never gave her a name, either. If you had known that I was looking for you, you would have dug yourself into an even deeper burrow. What is it, Tracy? You never wanted to be compared to your father? Is that why everything is under a pen name?”
She shook her head. She was afraid that she’d cry in front of him, and that was something she never wanted. She wished that she could explain. She didn’t know if she could or not—or if the feelings were so deep that she simply couldn’t ever share them with anyone. All of her life had been chaotic—all of it filled with trauma. She didn’t want that anymore. She didn’t want the things that came
“Oh?” Leif inquired casually. “You could have fooled me. ”
“Yes, and you can fool anyone, can’t you? You’re trying to sizzle my grandfather. Well, I’m sorry, I haven’t vindicated you as yet, Mr. Johnston.”
“Tracy, you don’t believe that.”
“No? I should believe my mother is a murderess?”
He shook his head and stooped to pick up the coffeepot. “Tracy, I merely said—”
“You didn’t ‘merely’ say anything. You were vicious.”
“Wait a minute!”
Jamie paused in his endeavors and lifted his hand, a pained expression on his face. He smiled ruefully at them both.
“I’m just going to go lock myself in my closet for a while, huh? I—uh—well, I love you both, and I’m not so sure I want to be a part of this. Settle things between you, huh?”
He turned around, walked away—and pointedly closed the door to his bedroom.
Both Leif and Tracy were silent for several seconds. Leif continued picking things up—it was still going to look bad when room service showed up.
Tracy really didn’t feel very guilty—he had been baiting her, and they both knew it. But in the stiff silence that followed her brother’s departure, she swallowed hard and set to replacing the now ragged tablecloth. To her great discomfort, she paused, aware that Leif had done so, that he was quietly watching her.
“He’s right, you know. This isn’t fair to him,” said Leif.
“This isn’t fair to anyone,” Tracy retorted sharply. She set a pile of silverware back on the table, then paused again, her fingers shaking . He hadn’t ceased watching her —not for one moment—and she had that feeling again that he was after something more.
She looked up at him; shadowed smoky eyes shielded all his thoughts again.
“Well,” he murmured, “I’ve got a few calls to make before tonight. Jamie has to be at setup by nine.”'
He didn’t move though. Tracy lowered her eyes and went back to righting the positions of things on the table. “You’ve been with him all through the tour?”
“It hasn’t been that long a tour. Three months. Paris, London, Rome, Atlanta, Chicago, L.A., and New York. A nice roundup for his first time out.”
She found herself looking at him again. “You always hated to tour.”
“Yeah. Well, it was his first time out. He’s only twenty. I wanted to see him come out of it as a level-headed human being. Jamie is a real nice kid. And talented.”
“And everyone is comparing him to our father.”
“That’s natural.”
“I suppose.”
“How can it be that none of the tabloids have picked up on you?”
“I stay in the background.”
“You’re still working. I saw your last video. It was good.”
“Thanks. And by the way, I’m the one who bought your last set of songs. You’ll hear some of them tonight.”
Her head shot up at that. “What?”
“Tracy—I am L & L Incorporated. I’m the one who bought your last set of songs. I gave them to Jamie— they’ll be his next album.”
“But—”
“You are T. B. Decker—among your other names. I do know that much. But you’ve also got one terrific agent—I was ready to beg, borrow, or steal for your address.”
She gasped, stunned that he knew that much. “She never told me that you were looking for me.”
He grimaced. “I never gave her a name, either. If you had known that I was looking for you, you would have dug yourself into an even deeper burrow. What is it, Tracy? You never wanted to be compared to your father? Is that why everything is under a pen name?”
She shook her head. She was afraid that she’d cry in front of him, and that was something she never wanted. She wished that she could explain. She didn’t know if she could or not—or if the feelings were so deep that she simply couldn’t ever share them with anyone. All of her life had been chaotic—all of it filled with trauma. She didn’t want that anymore. She didn’t want the things that came
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