Devon extended a ringing phone in my direction, but I quickly pressed end, knowing that my manager, Stewart, was on the other end.
“Tell him to get his ass down here if he wants me to cut this short.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Devon replied.
I turned my attention back to the line of girls freaking out and furiously snapping pictures of me with their cell phones.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I cooed, walking in the direction of a little girl no older than eight. Tears were streaming down her face as I took in her bald head, which was wrapped in a Levee Williams bandana, and a slew of wires and tubes dangling from her frail body.
“Thank you so much for doing this,” a woman, who I assumed was her mother, said with red-rimmed eyes while snapping pictures.
“No. Thank you.” I hugged the woman before squatting down to the little girl for a huge embrace I wasn’t nearly prepared for.
As her tiny body slammed into mine, I was rocked off my heels, falling backwards with her still in my arms. Security, doctors, and parents all tried to catch me, but my ass found the tile floor first.
“Oh my God!” the little girl gasped, tears of embarrassment welling in her eyes. “I’m so sorry.” She frantically scrambled to her feet, continuously apologizing.
My expression mirrored hers. “Oh my God. Are you okay?” I patted down her small shoulders and straightened the oxygen cannula in her nose. “Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head and rushed to her mother.
“I’m so sorry,” I apologized, feeling like a clumsy-ass for having made such a sick little girl cry.
Her mother shook her head, dismissing my apology, and mouthed to me, “She’s just embarrassed.”
“I’m embarrassed,” I mouthed back.
Stewart suddenly appeared at my side. “Levee, what the—”
I snapped twice and lifted a finger over his mouth, silencing him midsentence. “What’s her name?” I asked.
“Morgan,” the woman replied with a kind smile.
“Hey, Morgan.” I approached her, dropping to my knees. “I’m really sorry about that. I’m such a klutz sometimes.” I lifted the edge of my maxi dress, revealing one of my legs. “Look.” I pointed to the bruises and scrapes on my legs. “I even fell down the stairs at a rehearsal the other night.” I rubbed her back, and she peeked over her shoulder, flashing me a smile that relieved the tension in my shoulders.
“I know. I saw it on YouTube.”
I returned her grin. “Ah, yes. My dear friend YouTube. Always there when I need it,” I teased.
She began giggling at my joke.
“So, what do you say? Can we maybe try that hug again?” I reached down and made a show of pulling my heels off and dropping them one by one to the ground beside me. Squatting down like a baseball catcher, I motioned for her to come at me. I braced myself as she rushed in my direction then slammed into my arms a second time. I took a deep breath, holding her tight as she giggled.
Stewart’s loafers moved into my periphery. “Levee, we need to go,” he ordered.
Morgan began to release me at his words, but I squeezed her even tighter. “Nope. Not done yet.”
She was amused by my joke, but I was pissed the hell off that Stewart had had the audacity to interrupt that moment.
“Guess what? I think I have some special surprises in the back.”
Her eyes lit up.
“Can you give me, like, one minute? I’ll see if I can find them.” I gently guided her away while I pushed myself upright.
She nodded excitedly, backing to her mother.
I followed Stewart toward the room the hospital had set up for us. Loud groans of disappointment started to rumble through the crowd as I left.
“I’ll be right back. I promise,” I announced, which earned me a loud cheer from the group.
“You won’t be right back! You’re already three hours late,” Stewart grumbled.
“Well, I’m going to be a hell of a lot later than that too, because I’m not leaving here until I’ve seen everyone,” I whispered out of the side of my mouth. I gave the group one more wave as Devon ushered me into the room, closing the door behind us.
“Come on, Levee. Don’t make me the bad guy. In less than an hour, you have a VIP meet-and-greet. I understand your dedication to being here, and it’s great. Good for your heart, good publicity. Win. Win.”
I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t there because of publicity. I had plenty of that.
I was there because it was what I did.
Where I felt comfortable.
Where I was happy.
Where I had once been crushed.
But, ultimately, the only place I felt like I needed to be.
“Levee, you have hundreds of fans who paid for the VIP treatment. If you aren’t there, it’s not exactly VIP, now is it?”
“You know I can’t leave,” I snarled.
I hated Stewart, but it wasn’t because he was an asshole. He was just doing his job. I paid him thousands of dollars to make sure my life ran smoothly. And for all intents and purposes, he was good at what he did.
But that didn’t mean I liked having absolutely zero control over my life, including something as simple as time.
“Levee, what about all the people who waited in line for hours to meet you? What about the parents who’ve scrounged and saved in order to buy the four-hundred-and-fifty-dollar tickets? That’s not exactly pocket change. What about the guy who’s planning to propose? All of that has been set up way in advance. I get it. I swear to Christ I do. I let you stay an extra three hours, but if someone doesn’t show up at that venue in the next hour, it’s going to be a mess.”
I nervously chewed on my bottom lip. He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t know. I’d signed the contracts for three concerts and three meet-and-greets. It had been heavily promoted as my big homecoming since I hadn’t been back to perform in San Francisco in over three years. It was my last stop before closing out my tour with a live television event in Los Angeles the following week.
I’d known ahead of time that a man had paid a large chunk of money in order to surprise his (hopefully) soon-to-be bride by proposing beside her favorite singer. And then there was the little girl with leukemia waiting there as well. I had personally sent her tickets the month before. There was also the Olympic gold medal swim team that had recently suffered the loss of one of their teammates. They’d used my song “The Belief” as her dedication on social media. I’d mailed those tickets as well.
They were all there.
Waiting.
Guilt overwhelmed me. Regardless of how hard I tried, I couldn’t be everywhere.
And, God, did I try.
“Okay, how many are left out there?” I asked, trying to get my head on straight.
“At least a dozen more kids. Then their siblings, and parents…as well as a handful of doctors and their families, nurses—”
“Okay, okay. I got it.” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“Levee,” Stewart breathed, walking up behind me and squeezing my shoulder. “I’ll tell them. Maybe I can set up something for next month. You can come back, specifically for those you missed. We’ll block out an entire day.”
A month.
Lizzy hadn’t lasted a month.
How many won’t be here when I get back?
I shook his hand off. “I can’t leave. I’m sorry.”
He groaned behind me as I started to open the door. I froze when an idea hit me.
“Hey! What about Henry?” I twisted to face him.
“What about him?”
“He’s in town. If I can get him to go over to the venue first, it will buy me some extra time here, and it will be like a double treat for the VIPs. Everyone loves Henry!”
Stewart didn’t. So he rolled his eyes. “It’s not a good idea, Levee.”
I rushed to my bag in the corner and pulled my cell phone out. “Bullshit. It’s a fantastic idea.”
Another groan came from Stewart’s direction, but I was too busy dialing Henry’s number to pay it any attention.
He answered on the first ring. “There she is! What’s up, beautiful?”
“I need a favor.” There was no reason to bother with pleasantries. Not with Henry.