pdf123that girl s the one i love

8/13/2019 PDF123That Girl s the One I Love

1/24

140444200-Alana-Lorens-That-Girl-s-the-One-I-Love

Table of ContentsThat Girls the One I LoveCopyrightPraise for Alana LorensDedicationThat Girl's the One I LoveA word about the author...Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

That Girlsthe One I LovebyAlana Lorens

CopyrightThis is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the

product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance toactual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, isentirely coincidental.That Girls the One I LoveCOPYRIGHT 2012 by Barbara J. MountjoyAll rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any mannerwhatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc.except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.Contact Information: [email protected] Art by Kim MendozaThe Wild Rose Press, Inc.PO Box 708Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.comPublishing HistoryFirst Champagne Rose Edition, 2012Digital ISBN 978-1-61217-438-9Published in the United States of America

Praise for Alana Lorens and SECRETS IN THE SANDAlana Lorens' descriptions of storms in New Mexico plop the reader down into theexperience in a way that assails the sense. As she deals with some of theless-than-noble aspects of humanity and with modern society's less-than-nobleenterprises, she captivates with her ability to reveal the innermost needs and fearsof the characters as they rise above adversity and find that happy-ever-after thathad seemed so out of reach.~Long and Short of It Romance Reviews

DedicationFor all those who find thatgood things come to those who wait...

Leyla Brand leaned against the rough bark of the tree trunk, her eyes squintedagainst the over-bright light of the midday Saturday sun, soaking in therock-and-roll notes of the Copper Moon band. Feeling the sizzle of summer on herskin, she sipped her frozen strawberry margarita, then held the tall, cold, plasticcup against her forehead. Ooooh, yes. Blessed relief.Out of the sea of humanity all around her, an overweight guy in a red tank top twosizes too small and shorts that showed way too much of his chunky legs stumbledclose enough to nearly step on Leylas outstretched foot. She pulled it back just intime.

Page 1


2/24

140444200-Alana-Lorens-That-Girl-s-the-One-I-LoveHey, watch it! he yelled at a young kid who ran past, but he said nothing toLeyla, just lurched on, drink in hand, shoving his way through the crowd at thecorner of Battery Park and Heywood. And it was a crowd, this July Saturday indowntown Asheville, North Carolina: the Bele Chere festival, 2005. The TV news hadestimated thered be 250,000 people in attendance. Leyla had eyes for only one.Shed been a fan, almost a groupie, of the Copper Moon band for the past severalmonths, after shed heard them play in a local bar. Their covers of other artiststunes were all right, but their originals, written by lead singer Arran Lake, spokedirectly to Leylas heart. He was easy on the eyes, too. He stood about five feetten, with Scandinavian-blond hair that curled around his ears, soft blue eyes thatseemed to caress Leyla when they made contact with hers, and a casual vibe in hischoice of clothing that let her know he was perfectly comfortable in his own skin.Id be pretty comfortable next to his skin, too.Theyd look good together. She was sure of it. She, too, was tall and slender, withbaby-soft blonde hair and gray eyes. She, too, preferred a laid-back relaxed look.Now all she needed was a real introduction.Arran finished the song to a smattering of polite applause and a couple of wolfwhistles. Almost time. Leyla drained her margarita for courage.Were gonna take a break, yall! Stay thirsty! He raised a tall glass of somethingbrown, and the crowd cheered. It could have been bourbon or scotch, but Leyla bet itwas sweet iced tea, otherwise known as the house wine of the South. Arran wasnt abig drinker, even in bars, as far as shed been able to see. Shed made it her

business to notice everything she could about him in the two dozen times shed seenhim perform. Shed interrogated waitresses, managers, anyone she could see hadmeaningful contact with him, gathering bits and snips of information. Mostimportantly, that he wasnt dating anyone at the moment.Since shed also been single for the last year, she felt safe to ask him out. Allthrough the last month, shed rehearsed different approaches, what she might say togain his personal attention.She got to her feet, on the move toward the low stage. The group would take fifteenminutes to duck out of the sun, get something cold to drink, and mingle with fans.Well, she was a fan. She intended to mingleor maybe a little more. If she couldarrange it.She shoved her way through the crowd, drawling polite apologies. Two other women,their hair inartfully bleached and their apparel almost as slutty as streetwalkers,had cornered Arran against the storefront behind the stage, gold hoop earringsflashing in the sun as their lips flapped in an incessant flood of words. Leylaslowed her approach, disappointed theyd beaten her to the objective.But, to her surprise, Arran looked right in her face and broke into a great bigsmile. There you are, honey, he said, pushing past the women to take her arm.Dragging her with him, he walked away toward the street vendors. Want some friedveggies?Leyla thought shed dropped her breath behind her on the sidewalk. She really didntwant any. But shed be damned if shed turn him down. Sure.Arran let his arm slip down around her waist. His eyes forward, that smile stayed onhis face. I hope you dont mind that I ambushed you. I cant stand women likethat.Heck no, she didnt mind. She felt her own lips curved in a dizzying smile. Funnything. I was hoping to finally meet you today. Came out early on purpose to scorethat seat.That tree trunk? Awesome. He leaned closer to study her bare shoulders. At leastit didnt scratch you all up.Hed noticed where she was sitting? That was a good sign. I was careful.

You came down just to meet me? Really? He took a place in line, not taking his armaway. Under droopy bangs, his forehead had a sheen of sweat. Ninety-degree heat madeall the people on the street glow just a little. His sweat activated his bodyspray, and whatever scent he had on made her want to rip his blue shirt right off.I did. She looked up at him, just a couple of inches difference between them.You might have noticed Ive been several places that you played. I love yourmusic.You look familiar. Do I know your name? His eye contact flickered, and he got asheepish grin. I mean, have you ever told me your name? Cause I think Id rememberit, if you had.

Page 2


3/24

140444200-Alana-Lorens-That-Girl-s-the-One-I-LoveMaybe it was a line, but if it was, she was going for it. Im not one of those whowrite their names on bikinis and toss them on the stage, if thats what you mean. Mynames Leyla, with an E. Leyla Brand.Nice to meet you, Leyla. He leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek, his lipsbrushing like feathers against her skin. She was about to reply when it became theirturn to order. He turned to the young man behind the makeshift counter and ordered asleeve of fried zucchini, cauliflower, and mushrooms, paying for them with aten-dollar bill from his wallet. Leyla noted that wallet was pretty thin,particularly in the bill-holding compartment.Thats all right. Im not after him for his money. I like him just the way he is.He shook salt onto their golden-fried treasure before they walked away down thesidewalk looking at the craft and art displays in front of the shops, talking aboutthe Clapton song that was an obvious reference even though her name wasnt spelledright. Hungrier than shed realized, Leyla ate her fair share of the tasty treat,then mumbled through the last of the crunchy crust, Dont you have to get back tothe stage?Stage? He looked blank a moment. Oh! Yes, I do. He laughed, his eyes sparklingwith embarrassment. You distracted me. And you have crumbs on your cheek. Hereached out and brushed them off with one finger.Leylas well filled with disappointment, ready to bubble over. Shed gotten herintroduction; then shed ruined everything by bringing them back to reality.Sorry, she said, and she truly was.

Come on. He took her hand and they ran lightly through the crowd, him pulling her,weaving in and around people till she was out of breath and laughing. Just behindthe stage, he drew her close, whispering in her ear.Ive got a day pass to the Biltmore Estate. Ever been?Sure. Well, I went on a field trip to the garden once. When I was a kid.Want to go with me this afternoon after the set? We can grab a bite at the Bistro,or the Stable.A rush of adrenaline pumped through her. No problem calling off her shift at theItalian chain restaurant for such an opportunity. A giddy rush filled her head. Whatare you thinking? Its not like you to jump intowell, whatever this could be. Ithink I could make time for that.All right then. He grinned, sunshine seeming to come right through him. Hisbandmates called to him, more than a hint of frustration in their voices as theydemanded he get back to work. He ignored them and held her hand. Dont run off. Iwant to know youre out there.You got it.He slowly let her hand go, and climbed back up on the stage. After a hurriedconversation with the other three guys, he came to the front of the stage, settlingthe guitar strap firmly across his shoulders. His eyes searched out Leylaslocation, and he gave her a broad smile. This songs for my newest friend, hesaid, and the band broke into an acoustic cover of Claptons Layla.It was the first time shed heard them play that song, and it hit her like a shot ofadrenaline. She danced in the shade of a pear tree, her smile wide enough to crackher face. Not only was Arran singing a song just for her, looking into her eyes, buthed asked her to lunch. Or dinner. And a tour of the Biltmore, such an awesomeplace, from what she rememberedwhich wasnt much, all the way back to grade school.She vaguely recalled the odd little bedrooms, and a giant banquet hall with twoseparate tables, one for a whole raft of people and the other right by thefireplace, just for the family. Oh, and a giant greenhouse outside, and one inside,too! Any of the rooms inside the house the Vanderbilts called their own were prettymuch the size of her whole tiny one-bedroom apartment in North Asheville.

Well, she could dream, couldnt she?Copper Moon finished their song to a rousing round of applause, and Arran looked toher for approval. She gave him a thumbs up. The band launched into another song, andher hips seemed to move of their own accord to the rhythm. She let herself go, hermind not on what was going on around her but what was yet to come. She could hardlywait for the performance to be over so she could get to know Arran better.How much better? That, she didnt know yet.So many possibilities.She was no prude; shed had her share of intimate relationships in her twenty-threeyears. Shed never been the one-night-stand kind of girl, though. Never. But Arran

Page 3


4/24

140444200-Alana-Lorens-That-Girl-s-the-One-I-Loveappealed to something particular inside her, had from the very first time shed seenhim, something more than just his outward appearance. If she had a chance to reallyconnect with him, she wasnt about to pass it up.What seemed like hours later, she returned to the back of the stage and helped Arranand his friends pack up their equipment and stash it in the drummers black SUV. Sheand Arran went down a side street to where his car was parked. Before she even sawit, he started to apologize.Now, dont expect too much. Me and the boys, were living on a shoestring whilewere waiting for the demo to circulate. Its a FordIs that a Pinto? They havent made those things for years. Leyla studied the fadedred vehicle as he got his keys out. She couldnt imagine why he locked it. Hed beahead if it was insured and someone stole itHundred and fifty thousand miles, Arran bragged.I believe it.He opened her door and waited for her to get settled, as proud as if hed beendriving a Mercedes or a Ferrari, then whisked them along back streets to the hugeBiltmore estate.Are you a local boy? she asked. You sure know your way around here.Reasonably local. Ive lived over in Hendersonville for the last couple years. Grewup in south Florida.You left Florida for this? Unbelievable.Florida isnt all beaches and palm trees, you know. A mischievous light came into

his eyes. They got alligators the size of small dragons, and sharks, andShe gave him a sidewise look and shook her head. Right, right.How about you? This your first festival?Heck, no. Should she be honest with him? She really wanted this. Might as well bedaring. First one Ive really enjoyed, though.Me too. He grinned and headed down Biltmore Avenue.****As the first colors of twilight painted themselves onto the clouds overhead, Leylaand Arran walked through the rose garden at the UNCA botanical gardens, hand inhand. She could hardly believe this was happening. Shed hoped for a simple meeting,a conversation. Instead, hed swept her off her feet.Theyd lingered over a late lunch of roasted vegetable panini, followed bystrawberry-and-lemon custard pie at the Stable, a casual restaurant built on thesite of the former stables of the estate, the booths constructed from the wroughtiron and solid wood of the old stable panels. When the staff politely eased them outat closing, theyd left the restaurant and strolled the gardens.She learned that he refused to wear the glasses hed been prescribed in junior high,because he thought they made him look old; that shed been right that he didntdrink, since he came from a family of alcoholics; and that his fear of needles hadkept him from getting the typical rock star tattoos.She shared that her mother had left just before Leyla went to kindergarten, thatshed always thought cats sucked the breath out of people while they slept, which iswhy she wanted a cocker spaniel puppy, and that science fiction shows had alwaysbeen her favorite.So you grew up fast, Arran observed, reaching out to gently touch one of the tearoses along the walk.Had to. My dad worked all the time, and I kept house, cooked, you know, all that.She walked beside him, close but not touching, noting others glances at them.People stared. Did they recognize Arran, or was it the smile on her face, the oneshe couldnt control, her delight warm and shining through?He laughed, but it wasnt an amused sound, more a bond of understanding. My parents

really quit keeping track of me about the time I turned fourteen. They spent moretime finding the bottom of their bottles. He hunkered down to examine the leaves ofa plant. So it seems like we both had to grow up on our own.Well, kind of. She didnt feel sorry for herself. She really didnt want himthinking she was just another loser. I had plenty of friends, too. So I got out ofthe house a lot. Spent a lot of time running from reality, actually.Oh, I know. Me, too. He grinned. Some pretty bad years there, about age fifteen,sixteen. Im surprised Im still alive, actually.She wondered what hed done that was so bad. She knew her own sins. Shed beteverything in her wallet that theyd echo each other. Weve got time to discover all

Page 4


5/24

140444200-Alana-Lorens-That-Girl-s-the-One-I-Loveour shadows. Amazing, was all she said.The scent of flowers all around them, she added, I did write some pretty badpoetry.See, now, poetrywell, lyricssaved me. I had a lot of friends who liked to jam, soI got a guitar and started writing music.Youre very gifted, she said. Can I say that without sounding sappy?He stood up, close enough to look deep into her eyes. You can say it all you like.Her cheeks flushed hot. I mean, I guess everyone tells you that. For me, its sotrue. Like your song That Girls the One I Love. The details you put in there,about that girl, the taste of her, the way her hair looked in the sun, the softpitch of her voice. I know shes real. She kept her gaze locked on his. Isntshe?She is. Was. He looked away, his jaw set. She could tell hed felt pain with thatrelationship, and she was sorry to have reminded him.By the time they got to the greenhouse, she felt like shed known him for months.They seemed to be on the same wavelength or cellular vibration or something; theysynced like no one else shed ever met.The biggest surprise of all came as they toured the greenhouse.He stood in front of the shelf where several purple orchids decorated the delicatestems they were attached to, so many of them it seemed impossible the stem couldhold them upright. Did you know orchid seed is so small it would take thirtythousand to weigh as much as one grain of wheat?

What? She eyed him with some dubiousness. Why would you say that? How would youknow that? She glanced around them for the fact sheet he must have pulled thattrivia from.Its true. He shrugged. I could tell you almost anything youd want to know abouthorticulture. I was going to be a farmer when I grew up.Still in disbelief, she laughed. You. A farmer. For real?Quite solemn, he nodded. Got three-quarters of the way through Florida A&M, workingon a degree in agronomy. Would have made it, too, except mymy old man drank up allthe money Id hidden in the bank for school. He bit his lip, trapping whateverpejorative term hed been about to call his father. I always meant to go back, butonce I started playing guitar seriously, I never made it.He continued to stare at the flowers, lost now in some memory of the past, one thatobviously hurt him. She changed the subject, wanting to lighten the mood again. Ilike this one, she said, pointing to a bright pink flower identified as oleander.Id make a different choice. That ones poison.She yanked her hand back. Oh, my gosh!He laughed. Here. Now if this was my greenhouse, Id give you... He studied her aminute. A string of white dendrobium, like little butterflies. You could pin themin your hair, right here. He reached over to tap her head gently, then his handslid down her hair to her neck, while he looked into her eyes.She felt such a connection that almost without conscious thought she moved a littlecloser. His hand drew her in, till they stood inches apart, gaze still locked. Herlips parted, as if she intended to speak. Nothing came out. Before she knew it, hedstepped in to kiss her. Right then she knew they wouldnt leave each other till themorning.He seemed to feel the same way, because after they left the greenhouse at theestate, they went down to the Grove Arcade, looking in shop windows, then out to thebotanical gardens, all the time holding hands and talking. If she could havepredicted what a soulmate might be for her, someone who seemed to share so manycommon qualities, right down to their favorite peanut butter cup ice cream, shedhave chosen someone like Arran. A man who took no effort to be with. Someone she

could really be herself with. No matter what she was wearing, or how her hairlooked, or how much she earned.It was time.When they reached the end of the path at the rose garden, she whispered, close tohis ear, Why dont you come home with me?He drew back, his eyes narrowed. Are you sure? Youve just met me.Another surprise. Shed always believed men were hardwired to say yes any time theywere propositioned. Arran was indeed out of the ordinary.Im sure, she said. Ive even got a couple of Danish in the refrigerator forbreakfast. And coffee.

Page 5


6/24

140444200-Alana-Lorens-That-Girl-s-the-One-I-LoveBreakfast, hm? He studied her a long moment. Leyla, I dont want you to thinkthat because I sing in a band means I just use women. Id never take advantage ofyou.Now, that could be one hell of a line. Maybe it was. But his eyes were so sincere.She didnt want to frighten him off, not now. That kiss had promised much more.Guess I dont usually stalk guitarists and throw myself at them, either. Does thatmake us even?He actually blushed. Hey, Im the one who asked you to lunch. He held out hisright hand. Lets call it a draw.She took his hand and shook it. Deal.He let go and slipped an arm around her waist, his hold on her possessive. She didthe same. Which way to your place?****In the morning, the sun was high when she woke up to find him gone.A magnet held a scribbled note to the refrigerator.What a great night! Youre amazing. I didnt want to wake you. You looked sobeautiful sleeping there. Got a call Ive got to answerwell get together soon.He signed with an oversized A.Her disappointment that hed left her faded as she focused on his words. Youreamazingbeautiful. She tucked them away inside, treasured morsels of warmth, likesoft chocolate kisses to savor in the weeks to come.She made half a pot of hazelnut coffee from the free trade shop, taking in the

wonderful smell as it brewed, reliving the highlights of the night before. Sheddone it. Shed really done it. Shed been in the right place, at the right time, tomeet Arran. He had depths shed never suspected.And hed loved her in so many good ways.When theyd arrived back at her place, their interaction could only be described byone word: heat.They undressed each other, lips tasting each others skin as each new piece ofclothing came off, holding each other, sweat slick and salty on the tongue. Eachkiss reached deep into the others soul, tying a connection there, a marker so theycould find their way back. They didnt even make it to the bedroom the first time,but made love in a burst of passion on the throw rug in the living room.As they lay there, recovering from the shattering collision of their libidos, Leylalistened to the stillness, no sound but their ragged breathing. No wonder it washot. She hadnt left the air conditioning on. Come on, she whispered.She flipped the switch to the ceiling fan overhead, then slipped into the bedroom toturn on the small window unit, so it would be cool when they returned. He stumbledafter her as she dragged him into the shower. Cold or hot? she asked.Youre pretty hot, he said with a lazy smile. Youre pretty pretty, too.She felt the blush hit her all over and knew he could see it, too. I think cold.She turned the knobs and they both shrieked as the cold water hit them full force.His hand reached over hers and he moderated the water temperature to lukewarm, justwarm enough not to sting, but cool enough to bring their burning skin temperaturedown.You are a wicked, wicked girl, he teased.And thats why youre here with me. She slipped her arms around him, the waterrunning down her back. The manly scent of him, the sense of his skin against hers,made her feel drunk, even though she hadnt had one sip of alcohol.He reached for her shower gel, something that smelled of raspberry and coconut, andbegan to slather it over her. When she would have protested, he laid his lips overhers, effectively cutting off any objection, and kept his hands moving, washingevery part of her, coming to know her entire body as if it could be read in Braille.

He took down the shower head to rinse her, then washed her hair, too. Shed neverfelt so pampered, so loved.When she was thoroughly clean, she kissed him to express her thanks. But yourestill dirty, she said, her voice soft as a summer cloud.I suppose I could go home and wash up. His eyes danced with mischief.I suppose not. She eyed the shower gel. But I dont have any macho soap here.Youll have to smell like a tropical drink, too.He chuckled. If thats the worst thing that happens to me today, I think Ill befine.She switched places with him, admiring his broad shoulders as he stretched back to

Page 6


7/24

140444200-Alana-Lorens-That-Girl-s-the-One-I-Lovewet his hair under the falling water. He couldnt claim a six-pack, though he wasntoverweight by any means. Again, he was comfortable; no need to build his body toimpress others. He had no lack of muscles, as her fingers discovered as she rubbedhim with soapy bubbles. When she reached up to wash his hair, he pulled her bodyhard against his, his insistent lips not the only evidence of his growing desire.She surrendered to his fevered excitement, which only the water cooled again, oncethey were both spent.When they finished, they took turns drying each other with thick spring-greentowels, one of the only luxuries shed allowed herself in her limited effort athousekeeping. He insisted on combing out her hair before they retired to thebedroom, nice and cool now, since it was hardly bigger than a walk-in closet. Stillwrapped in towels, they snuggled under the sheet and the light blanket, his armunder her neck, watching the blades of the ceiling fan rotate, enjoying the quietlull as the fires of their passions took time to rekindle.They drowsed, then talked, then took the time to discover each other all over again.Leyla found that as the night drew to a close and the morning came near, the earlyrays of the sun tinged the wall over her closet with a faint blush. Theyd beentalking about their dreamshis wish to touch the lives of his fans with songs fromthe heart, songs that really meant something, but never to lose himself in thatlife; her long-held aspiration to tell stories, to write down the ones that wouldexpress what she felt in herself and others.He pulled her gently to him and kissed her forehead, half asleep already. All we

need is for the right phone call to come, baby doll. Then well be on our way.Like that will ever happen, she said, but mostly to herself. So many people hadthose big dreams, and the new wave of television fueled them even farther with thosereality shows where people off the street could hit the big time. But no one sheknew. Heck, no one most people knew. She snuggled close into the safety of his armsand let the world fade away.She must have slept like the dead, because shed never heard his phone, never heardhim get up, never heard him latch the door behind him. Whod called him? Maybe itwas Jack, the music agent hed been waiting to hear from for weeks. Surely hed callher as soon as he had news.She waited till mid-afternoon, then called him, leaving her number when he didntanswer. Maybe he was in a meeting. Maybe hed already written her off.No. Arran wasnt like that. Soulmates might be just a hokey concept thosematchmaking companies made up to sell their services, but if shed ever met someonewhose soul fit exactly with hers, she knew now Arran Lake was the one.Just when she thought her heart would explode with not hearing from him, he calledher, late that night. Shed already climbed in bed, exhausted from a long day atwork, lying between the pale blue sheets, letting her mind wander back to the nightbefore, and Arran. When the phone rang, she practically dropped it in her haste toget it into her hands.Hello? Arran? Is that you?Hows my girl? I miss you already.She fought not to beg him to come back. She wanted his arms around her again, thatsecurity shed felt with him in the early dawn just before shed fallen asleep. Imiss you, too. Did you find your guy? The one who called you?This is it, Leyla! They want our music. Weve got a contract, weve got anagentbut Ive got to go to L.A. tomorrow, to get everything signed. Im so sorry.She swallowed hard, wanting to encourage him, even though her gut was pushing wordsup through her throat, begging him not to go. She thought shed choke on them.Dont be sorry, Arran. This is your dream.I dont want to lose you.

She tried not to let her disappointment come through. Dont be ridiculous. You knowwhere I am.IllIll call you. His turn to sound tentative and unsure.Ill be waiting. Good luck, babe. Or should I say, break a leg?He finally laughed. Dont say that! I probably will. A long pause. Take care ofyourself till we see each other again, all right? Promise me.He was still being ridiculous. Shed be fine. She was always fine. Her mind wanderedback to their night together. Sometimes she was better than fine. Ipromise,Arran.The noise level wherever he was went up till she could hardly hear him. Theyre

Page 7


8/24

140444200-Alana-Lorens-That-Girl-s-the-One-I-Lovecalling for us. Ive got to go. I...I love you, Leyla.Her lips worked to form words, her heart a little stunned at the deep sincerity sheheard in his voice. She struggled, but nothing came out. She heard the connectionclose. I love you, too, she whispered, to no one.****Over the next few months, they both tried. The nature of this long-distancerelationship challenged them both. Only a three-hour difference, but when he wasfinished with his day, it was the early hours of the morning for her. He wouldntcall, saying he couldnt interrupt her sleep. Conversely, when she was available inthe morning before work, it was too early for him. Cutting that first album seemedto take forever, and all she had to hold were the memories of one night.He warned her he was about broke, but the night she called his phone number andfound it disconnected, it felt like a cold knife in her chest. He sent her postcardsfrom up and down the California coast, but without a return address where she couldreply. She even contacted the organizers of the Bele Chere Festival, to see if theyhad a number for one of the other guys in the band, but they only had the numberArran had given her.As time passed, she wondered if she was setting herself up for a painful fall, thelonger she held onto this hope theyd ever reunite. Arran had an exciting new life,and she had her hand-to-mouth existence at the chain restaurant. Maybe, if she waslucky, shed move up to assistant manager. Wow. Didnt seem like much of a goal,even if it might be more easily reached than that of a rock-and-roll musician.

After one particularly lonely stretch of ten days with nothing more from him, avague thought to track down his neglectful parents crossed her mind. Now thatsdesperation, folks. Surely those were the last people hed tell of his whereabouts.The patience of her friends, too, wore thin. Shed shared the story of the encounterwith Arranwell, the public-appropriate parts of itwith her best friend, Jane. Atfirst Jane had been wildly jealous of Leylas success, but the longer she wentwithout hearing from him, the more Janes enthusiasm faded.One night near the fountain area of the restaurant, when Leyla was feelingparticularly moony and sad, Jane grabbed her arm and looked her in the eye. Comeon, Leyla. Why are you holding on to this?Leyla studied her pudgy pal, a few strands of nondescript brown hair trailing downinto her eyes despite an army of bobby pins. Jane hadnt had a date in three years.Was she just complaining so she could seriously buzzkill Leylas hopes?Why wouldnt I hold on to this? He said he didnt want to lose me. We were Oh,Lord, it was amazing, Janie. When weYeah, yeah, I know. Eleven on a scale of ten, fancy fantasy video, clothes floatingoff your bodies, fires lit. Yeah. You told me. Janes brown eyes flickered in herdirection. You keep believing it if you want to. Youll miss out on otheropportunities.Leyla frowned. What other opportunities?Jane cocked her head in the direction of Tim Grange, one of the new managers whodjust transferred in. Hes had his eye on you.I dont need complications, Janie. I just need to be a little more patient. Shenoticed Tim watching her from across the kitchen and bit her lip. Ill be fine.The days at work passed, bills arrived and got paid, her car developed a terminalengine condition and died. Nothing came from Arran. Had she made a mistake?What did she have to go on, really, other than the night of Bele Chere?It hadnt been just a night, just another rendezvous. That she believed with herwhole being. Her heart felt the connection with Arran, felt it strong and hard andreal. Neither of them had been fooling around, she was sure. Those feelings weretrue.

So it wasnt a matter of emotion or attachment.Bad timing.Fate.Destiny.Whatever it was, it had separated them, as sure as the miles and mindsets betweenthem.Her lonely life continued in shades of gray. As distraction, she went back towriting poetry. Bad poetry, maybe, but it let her release some of that pain,choosing the right words, imagining that she could write anything as strong asArrans songs. While she wrote, she listened to the radio for some proof that the

Page 8


9/24

140444200-Alana-Lorens-That-Girl-s-the-One-I-Lovegamble had been worth it, that she hadnt lost him for nothing.It took six months, but at last Copper Moon hit the airwaves, climbing fast up theiTunes rock chart with their original song Glamour Girl about a small-town girlwho didnt make the big time but was found all prettied up in an alley, dead. Theplaintive tune echoed in her head, even as she wondered who the girl might be, or ifshe was even real.Arran Lake was featured on the American Top 40 interview show, and she listened overand over to the podcast, hearing the little Southern twang in his voice, thesoftening of his tone when he talked about his music. When the interview host askedhim if he had a message for his fans, Arran replied, Sure, Ryan. I want to send mylove out to that one special lady back home. Sorry I had to leave, and hope to seeyou again real soon.Though the host prodded him to give the lucky ladys name, he refused. Leylaconvinced herself he meant her. Jane told her she was an idiot.Really? That one special lady? What a great way to say to all the ladies in allthe towns he traveled through that he was thinking of them, right? Gets him rightoff the hook.A sad chill ran through Leyla. Shed thought he meant her, but sure, he could havebeen referring to someone else. If he meant her, why hadnt he used her name?Maybe he was playing games, after all.The reality she had to live with was that he didnt call her, or contact her, oreven show up unannounced on her doorstep. Trying not to feel desperate, she found

the address for his recording company and sent a letter to him, hoping someone wouldpass it on. What she got back was a publicity photo with a stamped autograph.Holding that smiling face in her hands, she searched out the familiar sparkle in hiseyes and hoped like hell he hadnt sent it. Surely hed at least have signed ithimself. Must have come from some clerical minion in charge of publicity.Or maybe he really had forgotten her.After months of determined dreaming, her faith wavered. She let Janes nitpickingsway her. When Tim asked her for a movie-and-dinner date, she held out for a coupleof weeks, then finally said yes.His interest gave her something to hold on to, and she let him extract her from thelonely nights with her radio as companion. He liked to take her out, both of themdressed in their fanciest clothes, to places he could barely afford, just so theycould be seen by people he wanted to impress. She found the outings entertainingwhowouldnt like to be wined and dined at the best places? And Tim was nice enough. Hetried hard. He cared about her. So, though she never connected with him the way shehad with Arran, when he asked her to marry him, she actually considered it.She hadnt heard from Arran for almost four months. He had two songs on the charts;he had to be able to afford a phone, or a stamp, even, by then. Despite what hedsaid to her, she had to realize that what she was clinging to was a fantasy. Likeshed thought all along, real people never got that chance, the one in all the booksand movies, the chance to be with a soulmate. If there even was such a thing. Howlong did she intend to be an idiot?So she did say yes. She married Tim Grange in a small ceremony at his familyschurch, with a few of her friends and a lot more of his high-class companions there.Their first dance at the reception was to Copper Moons That Girls the One ILove. Only she understood the irony.Those friends Tim cultivated got him a transfer to Pittsburgh, a step up to headmanager level at a restaurant there. Bored by sitting around the house every day,Leyla worked at his new restaurant for a while, but he seemed agitated that peoplethought he couldnt afford to take care of his wife, so she quit after a few months.More bored than ever, she went back to school to study creative writing, taking that

inventive spark she and Arran had shared and polishing it up.Even while she filled her days with new experiences at the university, Tim wasnthappy. What is it costing us for you to spend your days with all those young guys,hmm? he would ask. Are you having nooners in the student lounge? and, How canbooks cost so much?She tolerated the complaints for the first three weeks of the term; then she finallysnapped. What do you want from me, Tim? I thought we would be partners here. Itried to help you at work, but you didnt want me there. You didnt want me towaitress at any other restaurant. I dont have a lot of training to do anythingelse. She rubbed her forehead, trying to stave off the headache that would

Page 9


10/24

140444200-Alana-Lorens-That-Girl-s-the-One-I-Loveinevitably follow their fights. So Im at school, trying to learn something so Ican contribute to our household. Is that asking too much?Yeah? And what about the men? he asked, arms crossed.Nope, the headache was definitely coming. What about them? Theyre students. Theystudy. I study. We all study. None of them does my homework for me. She gestured tothe laptop on the table and the papers and notes lying all around it.Tim snorted. Writing stories. Why didnt you at least take accounting, or somethinguseful?She took a deep breath and counted to ten. Hed taken her away from home, heddumped her in this frozen land, and he worked eighty hours a week. She was entitledto have this one good thing in her life. Thanks for your input, she said.Youd better not be fooling around, he said. Jane told me you like to hop intobed with guys you thinkll be famous some day.That statement stunned her into silence. First, because she couldnt believe Janewould have betrayed her confidence in that way. Second, becausewell, because. WhatI loved about Arran was his down-to-earth reality. Nothing about his fame. Ifanything, his fame is what ruined any chance for us.She choked over the words. Dont worry, Tim. Theres no one else.Late for work, he let it drop. She became even more isolated, worried hed think anassociation with anyone was something more than it should be. Not that she had manyfriends. Her soft North Carolina drawl let her neighbors know she didnt reallybelong in Steelers territory.

Tim worked long hours at the restaurant, too tired when he got home to be much of ahusband to her. They hardly had time together to go out to all those fancy clubs hekept telling her about.She was left on her own. A lot.To compensate for those lonely nights, she sought out stations on the radio thatplayed Arrans songs, and she bought his music, listening to it when she was alone.She wasnt unfaithful to her husband, but more than one night when he worked tillthe wee hours of the morning Leyla fell asleep thinking of that night in Ashevillewhen shed met the man she dreamed of, and lived that dream, just for a day.Tim, however, wasnt so dedicated to their marriage. She should have known; thatswhat all the magazines said. A spouse who constantly accuses the other of infidelityoften did so because they knew they were cheating themselves. One evening he showedup with one of the girls from the restaurant, a stacked redhead still wearing heruniform, a dribble of salad dressing down the front of her apron. Ley, we need totalk.Leyla looked from Tim to the young woman, trying to remember her name. Ashton,Ashley, Ashtray, something like that. The way she snapped her gum, like she had somany better things to do, clued Leyla about the subject of this little talk.Tims failure to meet her gaze told her something else; that it was Ashs idea toend his marriage, not his. He didnt even have the courage to admit his own failure.Leyla bit her lip, keeping her disappointment at his failure, and her own, trappedinside. Let him say it. Let him let her off the hook.He stumbled over the words, looked at her with brown eyes full of frustration. Itsjust not working, he finally said. ImIm moving out.Shouldnt she feel more than this? She searched her heart but found she didnt evensense relief. Justnothing. Tim was right. It was time. Dont bother, she said. Idont need a house this big. Just give me a week to get my things together.Even as she spoke, she noticed Ash looking around the living room with anacquisitive air. Yeah, and when hes tired of you and working late every night, doyou really believe he wont do the same to you, honey?But she wasnt her sisters keeper. Leyla had enough to do just to look out for

herself.****Leyla sat down at her computer, absently loading up her browser while she sortedthrough her mail. Most of it still had her married name on it, even though shed nowlegally changed it back to Brand after the divorce that had taken four years. Sheand Tim hadnt really cared enough about each other to end things with any passion.Shed opened new social media accounts with her maiden name, too, wanting to shuckthat whole experience as quickly as she could, once it was finally over. She didntmind being on her own. She had her writing; at least her husband hadnt damaged thatgift. She could create in peace.

Page 10


11/24

140444200-Alana-Lorens-That-Girl-s-the-One-I-LoveShe tossed three-quarters of the mail in the wastebasket. Stupid junk mail. Thatalong with a bill her ex was supposed to pay. If he didnt get around to changingthat soon, shed have to call her lawyer. If her ex made her do that, shed be surehe got nailed to the max, just because she didnt ever want to speak to herbloodsucking lawyer again. Ever.Nothing exciting in her email, just a photo from her dad, some picture his neighborhad taken of him and his beagle. She checked her game sites, then the headline newsfrom the Post-Gazette, before moving on to her Facebook account, which she kept veryprivate, information for friends only.A survey of the posts on her news feed since the night before showed her that herfriends had gotten drunk last night, that a Serenity charity showing was happeningdown on the south side later that month, and that one of her friends needed someseed for their Farmville spread. She also had a message in the top left corner. Sheclicked on it.Is this Leyla Brand from Asheville, NC, 2005? If so, pls msg me ASAPThe message came from an account titled Bonsai Boy.Leyla frowned. Who the hell was this? Not someone shed known through her husband.Most of those connections had been in Pennsylvania. Maybe one of her waiter friendsfrom her Olive Garden days? Maybe that crazy neighbor from her little apartment onMerriman, the one who used to peek in her windows at night to see if she was naked.Well, that was one contact she didnt want to renew, thanks.She refused the friend request, closed her browser and went back to the current

story she was working on, a light chick-lit-style tale of a country girl in the bigcity. Write what you know, isnt that what everyone said? People in Pittsburgh wereso different from her friends in the South. It was like the cold winters froze theirhearts, so they couldnt look you in the eye or care about their neighbors.Especially one divorcee, living alone in an efficiency on the second floor of aslate-toned row house on Mount Washington.She could have gone home, but shed never gathered the courage to move. Her lawyer,as much as she hated him, had secured her a nice five-year alimony plan, consideringthe affair and the fact shed given Tim all the assets. She didnt want any thing ofhis. His money, on the other hand, gave her space to write. Shed picked up afreelance gig, stringing for the City Paper, which supplemented what she got fromTim. It gave her a byline at least once a month. She liked the idea she was making aliving as a creative person.Like Arran.Copper Moon had broken up. Shed read that on the entertainment pages of some onlinegossip site. Arran had decided to go on as a solo act. His music moved from broadmiddle-of-the-road rock to the soft rock category, his plaintive guitaraccompaniment plucking the strings of her heart along with his instrument. Arran hadeven played in venues near Pittsburgh; Leyla had only been able to attend once. Shesat way in the back, her eyes closed, just listening. Most of the time, she found iteasier to sit in her room and listen to his CDs, imagining herself at the concert.Or in his life.Quit procrastinating. Back to the writing.****One evening the next week, another message popped up on Facebook after shed had herskinny-girl TV dinner, the last thing in her freezer.Is this Leyla with an E from Bele Chere 2005? If so, please answer me.The message, like the last, was from Bonsai Boy. Leyla with an E? Now that sounded alittle more familiar. Who was this Bonsai Boy? She clicked through to his homepagebut found he kept most of his information private except for those hed chosen asfriends. All he listed publicly was his hometownSalinas, Californiathat his

occupation was farmer, and that his birthday was March 11. A PiscesWho did sheknow with a March birthday?When was Arrans birthday? Had she ever known that? She couldnt recall him tellingher. It hadnt been relevant. Damn.Think, Leyla. Someone should know. She typed an Internet search for Arran Lake,seeking one of those intrusive fan pages that collected information like a crazedstalker. She found several and clicked through, to be confronted with a host ofphotographs of Arran: in concert, on the red carpet, with his arm around asuccession of young actresses or musicians his name had been linked with over theyears. He was still jaw-dropping gorgeous, even six years later. The site featured

Page 11


12/24

140444200-Alana-Lorens-That-Girl-s-the-One-I-Lovearticles about his concert schedule, his charity to raise money for the homeless,and There it was. His birthday. March 11.Could it be?She went back to Bonsai Boys page, then his message. Why would he list hisoccupation as farmer, when he was a famous performer? She thought back to the two ofthem strolling through the greenhouse at the Biltmore, when hed known so much aboutthe plants, his education in that field.Could it be?Only one way to find out.She took a deep breath, trying to sublimate her suspicions, and typed in herresponse: Bele Chere 2005 was a long time ago. Why are you interested?She waited for several minutes, wondering even as she was doing it why she thoughtBonsai Boy would be hovering, vulture-like, over his message board. No responsecame. She silently ribbed herself for being a sap. She grabbed her purse and ran outto the grocery to replenish her bare cupboards.When she came back, she forced herself to put away everything from her threesensible, reusable cloth bags before she looked at her computer. No reason to gether hopes up. After six years, why would Arran bother to look her up now? Maybe itwas just some crazy person with a sick sense of humor. No reason at all to beexcited.Then why did her heart speed up every time she glanced over at her laptop, waitingfor her on her plastic-and-steel computer desk?

After she dragged it out as long as she could stand it, she took a cup of coffee toher desk and pulled her cheap chair close. Her Facebook page showed two messageswaiting for her. She opened the first.If youre the right Leyla, youll know the answer to that.The words hit her like a splash of icy water.She opened the second message.Have you lost something you cant find?She read that three times before she grasped the words. What did the writer mean?Had she lost what? She had a bunch of single socksthe dryer had eaten the otherhalf of each pair. Shed lost her marriagebut that was more good riddance thananything else. Shed have to think about that before she responded.Back to the writing.She turned on the radio for some background music. It was almost time for the Top 40roundup. Might as well see what Arran was up to, right?Neil Patrick Harris was sitting in for Ryan this weekend, and that tickled her.Shed always liked his humor. She turned up the music and settled in to write, theevening plan to create a scene where the heroine, Dayla, dumped her cheating man.She would embellish it, of course, but she could certainly draw on real life. Sheknew the pain of betrayal.The countdown moved up the chart, and she let her attention wander from the music asshe got into her narrative, fingers tapping furiously on her keyboard. Shewell,Daylahad just slapped her soon-to-be ex when NPH announced that Arran Lakes latestsong had moved up six slots to number four. And now, Arran Lake, with Have YouLost Something You Cant Find? If shed had a mouthful of coffee, she would have spit it out onto the screen of herlaptop. She went still, silent, listening to the words.Have you lost something you cant find?When you moved on, you left it behindA gentle touch you just cant forgetYou wake up, alone, in a cold sweat..

Too many miles away for her to seeToo many years have passed for me,But I cant give up, the dreams still realLife hasnt changed the way that I feel..Why cant I admit I was wrong, that its done?My heart wont let me let go, till Ive won..Her eyes filled with tears before he even got to the second stanza. The chorus feltlike a punch to the gut. She lost the rest of the words, her mind spinning down into

Page 12


13/24

140444200-Alana-Lorens-That-Girl-s-the-One-I-Loveher heart like a tornados vortex, throwing her whole world out of balance. Shealways imagined he was singing just to her, when she heard his songs. This time sheknew it for sure.She clicked back to the Facebook message, mesmerized by the blinking cursor. Shedbeen convinced he had put her aside, dazzled by his new world of fame and success.All this time, had he really been regretting that hed left her, back in Asheville?Overwhelmed by a rush of emotion, she typed in one word. Yes.This time, she did get an immediate response. Her message window popped up, BonsaiBoy at the top of it.Where are you? Are you well?Im fine. She felt so awkward, like a kid on a first date. How are you?Well, that was brilliant. She groaned and wished she could take the letters back.Better now. Have you heard the song?I did. I really liked it.Oh, gods. Really? She sounded like a babbling idiot.A message popped up with a friend request from Bonsai Boy.She hesitated only a moment before she accepted the request, then she clicked backto his page, now that it was revealed to her. No photos of him, but several of whatlooked like farm fields and maybe an orange grove. And what were those green fruits?Avocados? Those tiny expensive California avocados?He answered first. Pittsburgh! I never would have thought there. What took you toPittsburgh?

She realized he could now see her page, too. Long story. Long, stupid story,actually. But its over. The last thing she wanted to talk about with him was Tim.Better change the subject. Youre a farmer?LOL. Yes. Told you that was always my first calling. Even finished the degree,finally. Got one heck of a spread. Youll have to visit.That surprised her. Even with the song, she hadnt anticipated an actual reunion.She might think of him often, moon a little when she heard him on the radio, but thechances of seeing him again, in person? Surely, that was impossible. He was asuperstar now, and what was she? A budding writer who didnt even have a real job ora car. Back in Asheville, theyd both been working stiffs, driving crappy cars,living check to check. Now what would he ever see in her? She didnt know what tosay.As she struggled for a response, the seconds ticked by, blossomed into minutes.Finally words came up in his message box.Leyla, Ive got an emergency here. Im so sorry. Leave me your address and phonenumber. I promise Ill get back to you as soon as I can.Then the little green dot in his message box disappeared, indicating hed goneoffline.She stared at the box for awhile, reading his request. Did she dare send heraddress? She thought not. Why open that can of worms again? Shed broken her hearton that particular set of jagged rocks before; she didnt intend to do it again.She read everything on his page, noted his list of fifty-two friends, none of themshe knew, none of them famous. She read that his constant companion was a spiritedgolden cocker spaniel, but that he was otherwise single. She devoured it all, thenturned off her browser without leaving him any information and went back to hermanuscript. But as much as she wanted her fictional story to distract her, shecouldnt make it work. She turned off the laptop and went to bed.****Over the next several weeks, they had several disjointed conversations, left inmessages on each others pages. The time difference and what was clearly his busyschedule still ate away at their ability to connect in real time. Leyla found

herself disappointed, which indicated to her that her refusal to provide him withher personal information might be a mistake. She still cared about him. He was stillwrapped inside her heartstrings.But I cant build up what might be going on between us. Were both older, wevemoved on. Yes, we had a golden glowing moment, but thats past. I have to berealistic. Anything else makes me a fool of the first degree.She tried to separate reality from dream, carrying on with her life one day at atime. She made her rounds, including dropping in at the paper every so often, sinceher editor insisted she liked to see Leylas face. But the next time she showed up,Milla called her in.

Page 13


14/24

140444200-Alana-Lorens-That-Girl-s-the-One-I-LoveWhen she sat down across from Milla, she studied the expression on the editorsface, wondering if she was about to be fired. She didnt get paid much, but everyoneknew that papers were folding right and left across the country. Dressed in herusual casual sweater and worn jeans, with earrings that had to be cubic zirconiainstead of real diamonds, Milla didnt look angry or sad, though. Maybe things weregoing to be all right. Whats up, Mill?The editor handed an envelope across her cluttered desk. This came for you.Leyla frowned as she looked at the envelope. No return address.Milla nodded. Thats why we opened it. We were a little concerned. But it seemslegit.Leyla took out the letter, a missive from Mike Chandler, a local radio station DJshe knew by reputation, a guy who liked to cultivate relationships with big stars,then name-drop everywhere he could. The release was for a concert coming one nightonly to Pittsburgh, ten days hence. But there was a contest, too, the prize being achance to spend an evening with Arran Lake. A ticket for the venue and the night inquestion was enclosed, and a handwritten scrawl across the bottom of the page said,Please come.This is legit? Leyla asked, feeling the blood drain from her face. You sure theymeant me? She looked at the envelope again, seeing her name there, over the addressof the City Paper.Looks like it. Milla watched her, a curious expression on her face. Whats goingon? I can tell by your reaction theres more to this story.

Leyla shook her head at first, but warring emotions shredded her reserve. Wanting toreassure herself she wasnt crazy, she told Milla the whole story, from the firsttime shed heard Arran sing in the Westville Pub, back in Asheville, to the mostrecent online message. Ive never seen him since then, Mill. I thought, you know,that it was all one of those crazy things you do when youre a kid. Even if Idknown about this concert, I probably wouldnt have gone.Milla tapped her lips with a thoughtful finger. You know, I heard his new song onthe radio the other day. I thought it sounded like his heart had been wounded abit. She smiled. Maybe youre what did it.Leyla started to protest, but Milla cut her off. Here, Ill take the guilt out ofit. Itll be my fault. Ill assign you to cover the contest and the concert. Thenits work. I want a pre-story by Friday, and a followup short after the concert,with an interview of the winner, and quotes by Arran Lake if you can get them. Shegestured to the letter and ticket. Bet thatll get you backstage.Yeah, Leyla said, feeling a little drained. Bet it will.****It did, too.Leyla arrived at the concert an hour before the opening curtain, tracking down theDJ right away to get a quote before the show began. He looked the same as always inpublic appearances, a loud Hawaiian shirt, this time in greens and yellows, and apair of khakis that probably cost more than Leylas groceries for a whole month. Hebossed the stage crew, reading off a clipboard. He started to yell at her to get offhis stage, but once she introduced herself, Chandlers whole demeanor changed.Leyla Brand? Glad you came, honey. Weve reserved you a seat right out front, soyou can...uh, meet the contest winners.Thats great. Leyla wished her voice had a little more conviction. Her stomachchurned in anticipation of seeing Arran again. Her gaze flicked left, right, almostafraid shed see him backstage, here, before she was ready. In the auditorium, atleast it would be dark. Hopefully shed be out of reach of the light from the stage.Quit thinking about Arran. Back to the job. Tell me, Mike, how did you pick theseladies?

Simple drawing of ticket numbers.She scribbled notes on her reporters pad. It might have been more modern to tapinto some personal data device, but they were way outside her budget. How is thisgoing to work, exactly?Chandler walked her to the front of the stage, past the black-clad roadies noisilysetting up equipment for Arrans backup band. He gestured to the front row, thedozen seats tied off with a purple ribbon. Between songs, well call out ticketnumbers, and whoever has those tickets will be invited to come forward to sit in ourguest row, for an up-close look at the show. When the shows over, well draw onelucky winner out of the ones whove been in the front row, and that person will have

Page 14


15/24

140444200-Alana-Lorens-That-Girl-s-the-One-I-Lovean evening with Arran Lake. He grinned like a Cheshire cat. Very lucky, thatlady.Leyla thought back to the evening shed spent with the singer, trying like hell notto feel regret that shed closed that door. For sure.Shed written up the details of the date in her pre-storydinner at Lamont, a rideon the Duquesne Incline, a walk along the riverall very romantic. She surveyed theauditorium, imagining it filled with Arrans acoustic music.Want to meet Arran? Chandler asked, a sparkle in his eyes, glorying in the fact hecould drop the singers first name.A rush of panic drenched her. No. No, thanks. IllIll talk to him after. With hisdate. There, create a little cushion of safety. He couldnt say anything personalwhen he was with his date for the evening. She could be professional. Theyd getthrough it.Chandler shook his head, looking at her like she was crazy. Sure, if thats whatyou want.She went on to ask him about the stations involvement, get the local plug, likeMilla wanted, and then Chandlers restive attitude let her know the interview wasover. He directed her down to the floor of the auditorium as the back doors openedand a flow of excited, chatty people, mostly women, entered the venue.How long had it been since shed had the money to attend something like this? Shecouldnt remember. One of the beauties of living in Asheville had been free accessto the arts; there was always something going on: an art show, a music concert,

something to broaden horizons and bring some creativity into life. Shed been muchless inclined to head out into Pittsburghs social scene. Besides, her hermit lifehad spawned her own inspiration, her novel manuscript, and she devoted herself toit. The attention had paid off. She was fine.She was fine.Im fine.Her reassurance sounded hollow even to herself, but she set it firmly in her mind,like armor or a shield. The auditorium filled up, and she let the usher show her toa seat in the tenth row, on the aisle. Just far enough from the stage that shedhave a great view but still be lost in the crowd. Perfect.The buzz around her increased till it filled her ears. She sat, fidgeting with herpad, making a few notes, jotting down things overheard, then let her mind blank intothinking about the next chapter of her story. Now that Dayla had thrown out thecheating husband, it was time for her to do something brave, to strike out on herown, to leave her family and friends behind, andwhat?To take up a new career, start over in school. Hmm. Boring.To win the lottery and become an instant zillionaire. Hmm. Too contrived andunbelievable.Jump on a tramp steamer to Alaska with nothing but a suitcase and a one-way ticketin hand.Certainly had romantic possibilities. She liked the idea of her heroine throwingcaution and even common sense to the wind and going for it all. It was fiction,after all.She considered the implications for her character, focused on that, ignoring thecrowd around her, until the lights went down. Mike Chandler came onto the stage. Hemade a plug for the station, talked about himself for several minutes, a topic hewas clearly fond of. Then he announced, Ladies and gentlemen, I give youArranLake!The crowd roared its approval as Chandler scooted offstage. The spots focused on oneman, guitar slung around his thin body, walking to center stage. He hadnt changedmuch from those days in Asheville, his sun-streaked blond hair still long enough to

curl, his eyes still that startling blue. His shirt was a light blue, his jeanscomfortable and well-worn. He surveyed the gathered fans, looked over the emptyfront row.Good evening, Pittsburgh! he said, his voice thick with emotion. He smiled as somewoman called, I love you, Arran! from the back. I love you, too, darlin, hereplied, hesitating only a moment before giving his drummer a nod. The band swunginto That Girls the One I Love, and the concert was off in a dizzying whirl ofsound. Accompanied by a proper backup group and expensive equipment, Arrans firmbaritone sent shivers up Leylas spine. She closed her eyes to absorb every note,every word, and imagined he was singing only to her.

Page 15


16/24

140444200-Alana-Lorens-That-Girl-s-the-One-I-LoveAt the end of the song, as promised, a dozen ticket numbers were called. Thrilledfans hurried up to take their front row seats, each receiving a CD of Arrans musicto take home. The routine continued, and each time, Arran studied the whole row, hisintent gaze fading as he finished, leaving a faint smile. Hed sing the next song,then the winners would be replaced by a new set of delighted faces. The contest hadgenerated a large pool of adoring fans, and the group from which the grand prizewinner would be pulled grew to over three hundred, by Leylas count. For just amoment, she let herself wish to be picked, but she knew how her luck ran. She wasglad just to sit in the audience and bask in the warmth of Arrans familiar voice.Wishing was for someone else, not her.Lost in the magic, she hardly noticed how time passed, until the break before thelast song came. As the final tickets were called, she sighed, wistful. The eveningwould soon be over. As the babble of the crowd died down after the final number wascalled, one seat remained empty. A young woman dressed in a black sequined dresswalked along the front, checking ticket numbers. She handed a note up to MikeChandler, who had joined Arran onstage.Would everyone please check their tickets? Chandler asked. Were missing ourfinal contestant of the night.He read off the number one more time. Leyla waited for someone to come running infrom the restroom, or jump up, suddenly poked by their neighbor, but no one moved.Curious, she fumbled in her pocket for her own ticket, hastily shoved in thereearlier once shed cleared the door. She couldnt remember seeing a number on it,

but she thought shed look. Just in case.She uncrumpled the paper ticket. A number jumped out at her. Not just a number. Thenumber.She thought shed faint.Realizing that every eye in the place would be on her if she stood up, she clenchedher fist with the paper inside it. No way she could walk up front with everyonestaring. Her heart pounded in her chest, in her ears. Chandler crossed to conferwith Arran. The singer listened, then shook his head. Chandler gestured, hands open,but Arran shook his head again. The DJ sighed, then thumbed his mike.Mr. Lake says he wants to give each of his fans a chance at this prize, so he wontcontinue until this last seat is filled.For a split second, Leyla debated handing the ticket to one of her neighbors, justto get on with the concert. A little voice inside nagged her to get up. Fatesextending a hand here, woman. Take your shot. Youve paid enough dues to earn it.Embarrassed, thrilled, and trembling with emotion, she forced herself out of herseat and walked forward, her eyes on the stage and Arran Lake. When the spotlightwould have swung over to illuminate her, he waved a hand up toward the back of thetheater. She was able to take the seat, second from the end of the row, in relativeobscurity. She settled into the chair, still watching Arran, whose face hadbrightened into a genuine smile.He counted down for the band, then strummed the opening chords of Have You LostSomething You Cant Find? The live version was a little more upbeat than therecorded song on the radio, which made it seem more hopeful than the plaintiveballad shed first heard. Was Milla right? Had losing Leyla inspired him to writesuch a sad song?How conceited was that?She couldnt accept it.But look at his eyes, how he watched her with that same loving expression hed hadthat night they spent together, when hed smoothed her hair and kissed her so gentlyafter theyd made love.A tightness closed around her chest, the imaginary string with which shed tied up

her feelings for him straining to break free. She hadnt imagined that seeing him soclose, so real, would melt her carefully constructed boundaries, the walls thatprotected her from dreams she considered too dangerousor painfulto dream.All too soon, he finished the last verse of the song to echoing applause. He took agracious bow, then introduced his musicians to the crowd. Just one more thing todo, he said. Mike, you want to do the honors?The DJ came out, a large basket in hand. Ive got all the entries in here, hesaid. Is everyone ready?A chorus of agreement rocked the room.Chandler held the basket high, then reached in, drawing out one ticket. Id like to

Page 16


17/24

140444200-Alana-Lorens-That-Girl-s-the-One-I-Lovecongratulate all the winners tonight on behalf of the station, he said. I knowyoull enjoy Arrans CD. Be sure to tell your friends to get it before it hits thetop of the charts!Arran grinned and waved at the audience.And the winning number is Chandler waited for a drum roll from the band. When thecymbal clanged, he read off, Number 8199!Taking in the disappointed sighs she heard around her, Leyla didnt need to look toknow she had the winning ticket. Somehow, Arran knew it, too, because his eyes wereon her the whole time. Stunned, she couldnt make herself move, get to her feet,hardly even breathing.Shes got it! yelled the pudgy brunette woman next to Leyla. She grabbed Leylasarm and yanked her to her feet. Shes got it!Leyla wavered a moment, a couple of the roadies showed up next to her, each takingone of her arms, helping her up the steps to the stage. The whole thing seemed sosurreal, like she moved through a filmy curtain, blinded by the lights on the otherside. Like she was dreaming. Until Arran took her in his arms, holding her close towhisper in her ear.Now Ive found her, he said, breathless, holding on like hed never let her go.The crowd went wild.Thanks, everyone for coming! Chandler said into the mike. Good night! Drive safeon your way home! He waved at someone, who brought up the house lights, and theaudience left the auditorium in a deafening babble. And thats a wrap, he said

more softly, just loud enough for those on the stage to hear.Leylas head was on Arrans shoulder, and she didnt dare move, afraid shed destroythe illusion, that shed wake up and it would all be gone. He felt real enough,though, solid flesh inside his blue chambray shirt. It was real. It was real.You all right? he asked her, stepping back to study her face, though his hand kepta tight hold on her arm.Her lips curved into a faint smile. Yeah. Yes, Im fine. Just alittleoverwhelmed.Well, my grandma always said if youre going to do something, do it big. His smileleaned toward the sheepish side. Usually she meant going on a bender. But itapplies here, too.The basket with the numbers in it sat right at their feet. The numbers on thetickets caught her attention. She bent down to sort through the basket in disbelief.These all have my number on them.Chandler laughed. Yeah, sweet, huh? Arrans idea. He was pretty determined toArran made a cutthroat gesture and the DJ shut up. Just like that.Leyla looked into Arrans eyes. You rigged this?He shrugged, his expression more that of a mischievous boy than a man with a guiltyconscience. You wouldnt tell me your address.Youyou did all thisset up the concert, gave away all those CDs, flew fromCaliforniajust to find me? Her knees nearly buckled, and Arrans strong armquickly encircled her, kept her from falling.Honey, you didnt give me a choice. He half walked her, half carried her offstageto his dressing room, leaving the stage to the breakdown crew. After setting hergently on the worn blue sofa, he poured her a glass of ice water. Want somethingstronger?Maybe. No, not yet, she said, trying to absorb the situation. She put the glass toher lips, let the chill help her focus before she sipped the water, feeling it passthrough her, an icy blast of truth. This was really happening. She was in thedressing room of an international music star. But more than a star, the man whodowned her heart for the past six years.

Okay. Ive got some Jack around here someplace. He chuckled. Not for me.She nodded. I know.Feeling like an idiot, she realized she couldnt stop smiling. He bent down to lookin the lit mirror, then took several wipes from a plastic container and scrubbedmakeup off his face. He ran fingers through his hair, leaving it looking a littlewindblown. When he dragged a folding chair over, turned it around and sat downfacing her, she finally laughed.What? He looked down, trying to see what she found amusing. Did I leave my flyopen or something?No. Not at all. Her face continued to scrunch into a smile. Gods, she felt so

Page 17


18/24

140444200-Alana-Lorens-That-Girl-s-the-One-I-Loveditzy. You just lookso much like an ordinary guy.He laughed hard enough to rock back in his chair. Then you wont be surprised aboutthis. He pulled out a drawer in his makeup table, revealing a stash of GooGooClusters. Anyone can demand green M&Ms. Us Southern boys, though He tossed herthe one off the top of the pile.I havent eaten one of these since I was a kid, she said, amazed. God, I used tolove them. She peeled the wrapper back, studying the chunky chocolate-and-nut treatfamous for its origins south of the Mason-Dixon line. Definitely not acaviar-and-arugula sort of menu.Now, dont be putting down arugula. Ive got a great patch of it out on the farm.We eat it all the time.The word we echoed in her ears, reverberating like an overhead clap of thunder,the kind that rattled the windows of the house. Who was we? Dare she ask? Must bea big farm, she managed.Probably a hundred acres. He leaned back in his chair companionably, still holdinghis unopened candy. Working with a couple of seed companies to try tocross-pollinate some different strains of lettuces, make them a little more hardy.We sell to several local restaurants. The fruit orchards are all fully working,toooranges, avocados, lemons, and so on.We again. Skirting the issue like it was a puddle and she was in bare feet, sheasked, You dont do all that work yourself?He laughed. Not and keep up a touring schedule. Im booked till, I think, October.

He leaned closer. I gave up the only three days off I had this month for thislittle adventure.Guilt zigged through her. Oh, no. Thats hardly fair. She couldnt bring herselfto apologize, though, with her mind consumed by the we issue.Dont you worry, hon. It was so worth it. He studied her from his slouch in theseat. Id have given up the whole month, if thats what it took. Or more.He slipped from the chair, ending before her on one knee. Her heart stopped for asplit second as panic set in. He took her hand, kissed it softly as it trembled inthe nest of his fingers. He looked into her eyes. Leyla, IShe jumped up, pushed away from him, cut him off, her blood pressure racing. Shedidnt even know what he was going to say. Panic took over. Even Tim hadnt doneanything that romantic when theyd gotten engaged. It was too much, too soonArran, look, I dont know what you thought, but Im not ready forHis eyes were wide with surprise. Dinner?D-dinner? She blinked, off balance.Yeah. He straightened slowly, watching her with more than a bit of curiosity. Youthought Oh! You thought I was going to propose. His face shifted to a warmunderstanding. I can see why you Oh, man. No, thats not it at all. He blushed tohis hairline.Thats who we was. He was already married. Her heart plummeted into the miasma ofher gut. Arran, youve found me, right? So we dont have to do this wholedinner-and-date thing, you know? If theres somewhere youd rather be, someone youshould be with instead She forced herself toward the door, reaching for the doorhandle.Dont you dare! His voice was sharp, an edge drawing it in an upward arc. Hestood, frozen, his knee half bent as if he intended to spring in her direction butwas afraid shed vanish. The vehemence of his words told her volumes about hisfeelings. He wanted herno, needed herto stay.She dropped her hand to her side. Arran, what do you want from me? Why try to findme after all these years?He took a step back, shook his arm, releasing tension. I was going to wait and tell

you later, somewhere with candles and He trailed off at a knock on the door.Mr. Lake, your limos here.Thanks, pal. Arran cleared his throat and studied her.Mr. Lake. That sounds so formal, she said, repressing a nervous urge to giggle.He shrugged. Mostly, when someone says it, I look around for my dad. But therewouldnt be enough booze here to interest him.Neither broke the uncomfortable silence that followed for a minute or so. Leylasmind had gone blank. Hed said something about dinner. Trying to remember where thisdinner was supposed to take place, she finally recalled it was Lamont, a place shednever been into but had walked by plenty of times. The award-winning restaurant was

Page 18


19/24

140444200-Alana-Lorens-That-Girl-s-the-One-I-Lovesupposed to have a wonderfully romantic view overlooking the city from MountWashington. At night, it would be even more spectacular.So, dinner, she said.Yeah. Mike picked out some place over by the streetcar thing. Arran shrugged.She glanced down. Shed worn a soft summer dress in peach, but she didnt know ifshed pass the dress code. Arran wouldnt. But then, they might make an exceptionfor him. Neither one of us is really dressed for that place, you know.Got a better idea? His eyes lit with mischief. If Im really a star, I should beable to change my plans. Well throw off the paparazzi.That made her smile. Ever hear of Primanti Brothers? They make killersandwichesfries and coleslaw right on the sandwiches. Its amazing. Like Luellasback home.His eyes widened for just a moment. Really? That sounds incredible. Lets git. Hegrabbed her hand, and they ran for the door. He helped her into the limo, where sheslid all the way across the seat next to the opposite window. He stayed on his side,giving her space. They waved goodbye to Mike Chandler, closing the window beforethey told the driver where they were going.You think hell be mad?Arran laughed. Only if he has to give back the fifty bucks the Enquirer gave himfor the tip.Leyla leaned back against the cushioned seat, still feeling a bit like Alice inWonderland. Ive never been in a limo.

Theyre all right. Im usually real glad to have one in a city where Ive neverbeen. Those guys always get me where I need to be. He gawked out the window as theydrove through downtown, past the illuminated PPG castle. Never been out here inpublic before. Its pretty at night.Its okay. At least in the summer. The winters are kind of rough. I miss Ashevillea lot, those mountain views in the fall, the mist on them She peered along withhim, remembering when shed seen all this for the first time. Tim hadnt been muchof a tour guide; hed bitched about everything. Too many cars. Ugly buildings. Icycrust on every road. If it hadnt been for the money, he wouldnt have foundanything useful about this city. Well, except Ashtray. Or Ashley. Or whatever hername was.She couldnt let that distract her now, not when she was caught in the whirl of amagical dream. She could feel his gaze on her, and her hand automatically slipped upto tuck a loose hair behind her ear. He wanted to tell her something. Overcandlelight, hed said. Even if that drop to the knee hadnt had anything to do withmarriagewhat could he want to tell her that was so important?I hope Im not interrupting other plans you had, he said gently.What? She glanced up at him. No! I mean, no, there wasnt anything particular. Ispend most nights, um Suddenly her little scribblings seemed an embarrassment.What? he asked, his eyes warm and interested, inviting her to share.Writing. Im writing a novel, she said.Get out! Thats wonderful! His grin threatened to pierce the edges of his face,and he scooted close, taking her hand. See, I knew you had that in you. Whats itabout?She started to tell him, but they arrived at the South Side, Carson Street bustlingat this hour on a weeknight. She would wait till theyd pushed their way insidethrough the crowd of college students, retired steelworkers, and young urbanprofessionals out with the working class, to grab a small wooden table in a corner.The patrons chattered happily, armed with frosty mugs of beer and sandwiches stackedhigh with meat, cheese, and assorted toppings. Leyla wondered if they might bemobbed, uncomfortable in this crowded space, but this crew was much more Springsteen

and Mellencamp than Arran Lakes softer rock offerings. Arran ordered thePittsburgher Cheese Steak sandwich, which came, as shed told him, with fries,sweet-and-sour coleslaw, and tomatoes. She chose the capicola, loving the salty,spicy pork slices. When he would have ordered an upscale beer, she stopped him.No, no, youre on the South Side now. You need to drink the local stuff. TwoYuenglings, she told the waiter.Good choice, miss. The waiter winked at her and elbowed his way toward thekitchen.So go on, tell me about this novel.Arran was quite insistent, and listened patiently as she described her heroines

Page 19


20/24

140444200-Alana-Lorens-That-Girl-s-the-One-I-Lovelife and loves. He added comments as she explained the bumps in her narrative,suggesting changes based on a mans point of view.Yeah, see, your guy wouldnt react like that. Guys are programmed to act, to fixthings. But we dont usually like to talk about whats wrong, or what happened. Welike the surgical strike.Well, that makes sense, then. Thinking back on that night Tim broke up with her,it was pretty much just like that. And Ashtray watching. What about when they meetat the store?Huh. He actually stopped to consider a response, unlike Tim, whod dismissed thewhole endeavor as a waste of time. Hed have a gun.Really? Her followup question was interrupted when their beer came, then theirfood, but they talked on, moving from her field of creativity to his and back again.Even as they sat in the middle of all the talk about the Steelers and the economyand the hot girls with the too-short skirts sitting at the edge of the bar, the twoof them were set apart, in their own small world. It seemed like that night in herapartment, back in Asheville, where they lay just before dawn, as the pale pink andgray light came through her window and reflected off the mirror, and shed thoughtit was the start of something truly specialBut then hed left.And now hes backWhile they waited for the check, she studied his face, seeing little lines, littletelltale signs that hed gotten older. She had some very similar. The passing of

time did that to you. The question was, did the passing of time put some dreams todeath?What was it you wanted to ask me? she said suddenly, intending to catch him offguard. The restaurant was too crowded for him to get on his knees without beingtrampled.Hang on a minute while I get the car, he said, texting with one hand. The waitercame by, picked up the check and the credit card in Arrans hand, and vanished.Its too loud in here. I want you to hear me. He smiled and reached for her handacross the table. I cant believe its really you.Leyla wanted to protest that she was the one in disbeliefwho would have supposedthat she would be out of her lonely hermit apartment and out on the town with afantasy from her past? She tried not to act like a fool. She squeezed his fingers.Well, I can assure you its really me.The waiter passed back through, setting down the check for Arran to sign. Hisattitude had subtly changed. Your card says youre Arran Lake, the waiter said.Arran took the mans pen and signed, then handed it back, taking all his copies andthe card to tuck back into his wallet. It should. He smiled at the guy, who onlygot more flustered.Man, if Id have knownNo worries, man. Arran stood, pulling Leyla to her feet too, before the servercould cause a fuss. Thanks again.Leyla hurried for the door, winding through clumps of raucous patrons. Outside, theevening air soaked her face, the September night thick with humidity. Arran scootedup next to her at the edge of the sidewalk. Its so great here. Not like LosAngeles, he said. Too many people there.Jostled on all sides by people determined to have a good time, Leyla was pretty wellconvinced there were too many people here, too. Carson Street, late night, was nother kind of scene. Bumper-to-bumper traffic, horns blaring, neon lights everywhere.She began to feel a little overwhelmed. Look, I can catch a cab home from here.No! Desperation tinged his eyes, making them a sad blue, the color of a rainy sky.Please, Leyla, I want to talk.

The limo pulled up next to the curb, and he opened the door for her.Please give me a chance to talk to you. Well drive, and itll be quiet. Then whenIm done, if you want to go home, well drop you right at your door.Inside, she was wondering how a limousine might negotiate the dangerous curves ofMount Washington, but all the same, there was a part of her that didnt want thisnight to end. Arran was, after all, the one who got away, right? Might as well spendwhatever time he wanted before he winged off back to his farm in California and hisglamorous rock star life. She climbed into the limo, sliding all the way across theseat.This time Arran sat across from her, not next to her. The space was wide enough that

Page 20


21/24

140444200-Alana-Lorens-That-Girl-s-the-One-I-Lovetheir knees didnt even touch. Just drive, he said to the chauffeur. Then heclosed the window between the front and back of the car and turned his attention toher as he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. His expression, intent andserious, gave the impression he was focusing everything he had on her.You know, I went back to Asheville to do a show a couple of years ago. Played atthe Orange Peel. Reflected in the lights of passing cars, his smile was a ghost ofemotion. Id have stayed a few more nights if I hadnt had a tour demanding myattention.He studied her. She didnt know what to say. The Orange Peel is Its a cool placeto play. I-I bet you were great.He sighed. Thats not what I No. The point is, I went there hoping to find you.Me? In Asheville?Yeah. I went to the Biltmore, to the gardens there. I went downtown, and stoodright where the stage was that day at Bele Chere. It all came back to me, soclearly. He closed his eyes a moment, then looked at her again. I know now youdalready moved here. He shifted in the seat, leaning back, hands steepled in frontof him as he searched for words. One year I was on tour at Christmastime, I thinkin Atlanta, or Birmingham, somewhere like that. After the show was done, I wassitting in my dressing room, the door partly open, and listening to the womenoutside, their Southern drawlit sounded so much like home. It sounded like you.His voice echoed with pain. She just listened, afraid to speak, wondering whetherthis was another dream, or how this could be real. What was it he really wanted to

say to her, what had brought him here, what could have driven him to concoct theevenings concert?Leyla, Ive regretted so many times that I let you slip away. I dont know I guessI thought youd be waiting, you know? Right where I left you. He laughed, a darkand unhappy sound. Right, like you didnt have anything else in your life. I didntmean for you to just put yourself on hold. Once I took that call, and got on thatplane, a whirlwind took over my life. We were recording, we were traveling, we weremeeting people and going places All of a sudden, it was a year later. Then two. Itried to call, but your phone number wasnt good any more. Letters I sent to youraddress came back. I didnt know how to find you.He paused, and she considered what hed said. It certainly sounded plausible. Hurtby Arrans perceived abandonment, shed hooked up with Tim much too fast. Shedknown that at the time but was so wretched shed just ignored any alarms and thrownherself into it. They had moved away not long after. It could have happened like hesaidThat Christmas, I sat there, alone, thinking about getting on yet another plane andgoing home, where Id be alone, too.She started to protest, but he held up a hand. Oh, I know, people think the rockinglife is a party all the time, housefuls of people, music blasting, all that. And itcan be. People who like that kind of thing can have it rolling twenty-four/seven.But thats not me. On the road, there are always too many people, too many cities,lights, noises, and I cant wait to get home. Ive got a little studio there, whereI can play around, make music. Like I said, its a working farm. Everything isnatural, quiet, breezy. Its home. He was quiet a long time as the limousine droveon.She glanced out the window, saw the driver had taken them onto the interstate.Probably the easiest place to get around this time of night. So much to say, but shedidnt know what would be right. Maybe best to charge straight on. I alwayswondered I mean, you see the gossip magazines, and they say that people make allthese fabulous hookups, you know. I loved that picture of you and Cynda Jones, forinstance.

He looked up sharply. Cynda? His eyes narrowed a moment. When did I see Cynda?After a moments thought, he slapped his knee. Oh! That. He started to laugh, afull, round, amused laugh this time. Yeah. Wed both gone to the music awards. Iwas rumored to be ahead in the polling, and her publicist wanted to kick her up inthe ranks, so she dragged Cynda over and persuaded us to look like a couple. Allthe cameras went off. I thought I was going to be blind for a month.So you werent a couple?Oh, heck, no. I mean, shes okay. Drinks too much, in my book. I think she did goon to win the next year. He shrugged. But the only girl who waits at home for meis Ginger. When Leyla didnt respond, he added, The cocker spaniel.

Page 21


22/24

140444200-Alana-Lorens-That-Girl-s-the-One-I-LoveOh, I saw her picture on your page. Shes great.Shes yours. I mean, I got her for you. I remember how you said youd always wantedone.That raised her eyebrows.Anyway, back to that Christmas. I realized then I wanted someone at home, someone Iwanted to see at the end of the day. Someone I wanted to share everything with. And,Leyla, I realized I wanted that person to be yo

pdf123that girl s the one i love

Documents