"Noooo," Lucky said, her eyes wide with pretend fear. "Trust me when I say they wanted to. I told them the label said they couldn't, that they'd be a distraction. Do you realize this is the first time I've been away from home?" Lucky shook her head as she thought about her life at home before groaning. "You won't believe this. I told the last interviewer I've never been on a date. I really have to learn when to shut up."
"I can't wait until that interview comes out. I'm so buying that magazine," Jordan said with a laugh. "You've been on a date though, why didn't you tell them about that?"
"Ha! Tell them about being such a loser that for me to go to the prom, my mom had to find me a date? No thanks!"
"Oh, give me a break, that guy was crazy about you. And if I remember right, he was pretty cute too."
Lucky rolled her eyes. "That guy had a girlfriend. Plus he wasn't crazy about me, he was just crazy, period. Besides, he was only doing his aunt a favor."
Three Years Ago
"But Mom, Jordan's my best friend. Why can't we share the limo?" Lucky asked, trying to keep the whine out of her voice. She wanted to have an intelligent conversation with her mother and not be treated like a child.
"Lucky, I've told you before, you're not allowed to drink," her mother said.
"I'm talking about the limo though. Riding in the same vehicle to prom. This has nothing to do with drinking."
"Yes, it does. Jordan's boyfriend is twenty-one. That means he can buy alcohol. I don't want you sharing a car with someone who can buy alcohol."
"Then I sure hope the limo driver is underage," Lucky said sarcastically.
"Don't get smart with me, young lady. You know what I mean. You can get a limo for the prom, just share it with one of your other friends."
"I don't have any other friends," Lucky said, frustration filling her voice. "Jordan's the only one who puts up with the constant checking in and everything else I have to do. I mean you guys even call the theater to check the time the movie's over so you know when I'll be home."
"What about that Sean boy down the street?" Lucky's mom asked, ignoring her. "I ran into his mother at the supermarket. He's going with his girlfriend, and I don't think they have a limo yet."
"Yeah, just perfect, Mom. I can share the limo with two people I barely know and my stranger of a date. What a special prom memory that'll make."
"At least you're going. Be grateful for that," her mom said, her tone sharpening. "And your father and I expect you home right afterwards. You can visit with Jordan the next day if seeing her at the prom isn't enough."
"No, I can't see her the next day. She's going away for the weekend. Like every other kid in school." Lucky hugged herself. It was just another time where she felt completely left out and punished for no reason.
"Well, that's fine that they all have such neglectful parents. I can't help it if we worry and protect you," her mom answered.
Present Day
"If only my mom knew what a perv she set me up with for prom. I had to keep pushing him away," Lucky said as she shook her head.
"Well, at least you didn't tell the interviewer you've never been kissed," Jordan said.
"What are you talking about? I've been kissed!"
"Okay okay, yes, you've been kissed. One kiss." Jordan giggled.
"Don't you start. It counts. I'll never forget Tommy Hearon. How he waited with me for the school bus. The way he leaned in towards me..." Lucky's voice trailed off dramatically.
"The way his braces got caught on your lip."
As they laughed, Chuck popped his head back into the office. "Lucky? It's almost time. Are you ready?"
"Yes Chuck, I'm coming." She turned towards Jordan. "Let's go! I can't believe this is really happening. I've been dreaming about this my entire life."
Chuck Russo was known as the dream maker. When record companies had a lot riding on a new talent, they called Chuck in as the producer. He had an uncanny ability to get unknowns onto the charts.
Lucky completed her album with Chuck just a couple weeks before. Using studio musicians helped the process go smoothly. But now that she was going on tour, she needed a band. Since Chuck was the most familiar with her sound, he had offered to help.
Lucky grabbed Jordan's arm and pulled her out into a busy corridor with pale green tile flooring and rust-colored walls. As they walked down the hall, they passed gold and platinum records. The old recording studio was exactly like Lucky imagined.
People casually walked the halls, some in suits, but most in jeans or shorts. It reminded Lucky of when she was in college and she thought about how all her hard work, all the hours she spent writing and rehearsing, had led to this. She couldn't stop smiling.
Entering the rehearsal space with Jordan, Lucky spotted Chuck pacing the floor while talking into his cell phone. He was a short, thin man, attractive for his age, despite his unnaturally black hair that hung straight to his shoulders. He had a black goatee which was sculpted to a point at his chin and made Lucky think of the devil even though she had no reason to.
"She's not going to go for that, and I wouldn't blame her." He paused as he listened to the other person on the call. "No, if that's what you want, then get your ass over here and tell her yourself."
He hung up and motioned to Lucky to sit with him at a long table that faced the stage. About ten musicians milled about, strumming and tuning their instruments. Chuck slid a list of musician names with their experience towards Lucky, then leaned in towards her.
"Your label is coming in. They have some requests."
"Is that who you were just talking to?"
He grunted and nodded as he straightened to sit in his seat properly. "I should call them demands. I don't think you have a choice."
"What is it?"
"The line-up. They want her added to the band." He motioned towards a corner where a woman not much older than Lucky leaned against the wall, ignoring everyone. She was tall and thin with long legs in a pair of tight jeans and a crimson V-neck sweater. She whipped shoulder-length platinum blonde hair aside as she waved off a guitarist who tried talking to her.
"She looks like a model. Can she play?"
"I don't think they care." Chuck pointed to the name Kat Krave on the list. Beside it was the word keyboards and a listing of tours she had performed on.
"At least she's experienced."
Chuck shrugged but didn't say a word. He picked up a pen and circled several names and pointed them out to Lucky as a tall man in a light grey suit and silver hair entered the room.
Richard Black was the owner of Black Dog Recordings and made it his business to find the right talent and then make them better. He didn't consider himself to be in the music business. His business was making money.
As a promise to his sister, he went to his nephew's performance at the Berklee College of Music a few months ago. He agreed to listen to his nephew play but didn't agree to give him a deal. While he was there, he heard an amazing soulful voice singing rock 'n' roll with a band. The sound brought him back to his youth, something that happened every time he found real talent.
Asking around, he discovered his find was named Lucky Saldano, a multi-instrumentalist who had a knack for writing catchy songs. She had a sellable name, a sellable sound, and while he thought she was pretty, he didn't think she had a sellable look.
"Lucky, can I talk to you in the sound booth?" Richard asked before heading into the partially enclosed area towards the back of the room.
"Is something wrong?"
"You need to understand something about this business. It's a business about image. I'm sure you know you're a beautiful girl, but you're also a big girl. Big doesn't sell. I've asked other artists of mine to lose weight, but since we're moving so quickly with you, there isn't enough time."
"What are you trying to tell me? Other than I'm fat," she said angrily.
"I'm being honest with you, Lucky. You have to understand the business. Tomorrow before you leave LA, we're doing a photo sessi
on with your band. I want Kat Krave in those pictures and on the tour. I need a look I can sell. I need sexy. Look at her. I'm sure you understand."
He walked out, leaving Lucky dazed and hurt. She felt the sting of tears filling her eyes as she walked back to Chuck. Tapping Jordan on the shoulder, she motioned to her that they were leaving.
"Chuck, pick whoever you want, I trust you. I understand now about Kat. I don't have a choice. I'm going back to the hotel. Just do me a favor and make sure you pick the best drummer here. You know I need to connect with him on stage or nothing will go right."
"No problem, Luck. Why don't you and Jordan go sightseeing? I'm sure you've never been to LA before, there's a lot of great things to see."
She nodded and left, not wanting to be there any longer. She felt betrayed, but she only had herself to blame. Richard Black was right. Despite what she might want to think, this was an image business, not a talent business.
"Chuck's right. Let’s have some fun. Screw Richard Black.”
2
Lucky
"I am so not looking forward to today," Lucky said to Jordan as she ran her fingers through her long hair, trying to work out some knots.
"The photo shoot? You'll be fine. I was thinking about going shopping while you're there."
"Ugh, really? I want you with me. Did you see that Kat Krave girl? I'm going to look like a troll next to her."
"Please, like you could ever look bad. Besides, she's all plastic. Don't think about it so much."
After they left the recording studio, she decided some retail therapy would help her mood. She found a cute silk white peasant top with navy embroidery and a pair of navy and white striped jeans she couldn't say no to. The look was very 60s, and she loved it. She added a pair of chunky sandals to finish the look.
Lucky enjoyed her newfound freedom. She didn't resent how she grew up. She understood why her parents protected her so much and appreciated it because otherwise she wouldn't have pushed herself into music. But she was twenty-one and didn't have any of the experiences other people her age had, and that bothered her.
While her parents preferred her to stay home, they indulged her musical interests. Ever since she was a child, she enjoyed music and quickly began making up her own songs. Her parents sent her to lessons first for the piano, later the guitar, and lastly bass because she felt like she wanted a new challenge.
By the time she was accepted into Berklee, she had won several songwriting awards and had been featured in a couple of local newspaper articles. She couldn't remember when she didn't want to be a musician. She knew she was fortunate to have her dream come true, but she worked really hard for it.
"You're right, Jordan. I am getting too into my head. Screw them if they think I'm fat or big. I know what I look like. I'll put up with this photo shoot and whatever else they want. In the end, I know it's going to be about my music." She sighed softly. "Doesn't change the fact that I'm nervous as hell though."
"Okay, okay, relax. I'll tag along."
The photo shoot was in an old warehouse in Santa Monica. The drab grey exterior contrasted with the stark white interior. The faint smell of bleach filled the air of the spacious open area. Large rectangular windows let the sun stream in rays onto the shiny tile floor.
Ian Taylor, a renowned rock 'n' roll photographer, converted the first floor into a studio with lighting and sets. The saltwater smell of the nearby ocean drifted in through the windows, masking the bleach and making the room feel less clinical. The large space echoed with their footsteps as they entered the building.
"Lucky! Back here!" Richard Black called from a corner at the back of the large studio.
As they approached, Lucky noticed a couple of guys talking to each other. They were in their early twenties like her, and each wore a plain black t-shirt with their jeans. She wondered if that was planned or coincidence.
"Did you put on more weight? I really was hoping you'd lose some," Richard said.
Lucky shot him a dirty look then scanned the room looking for Kat, figuring she'd get all her insecurities out of the way as quickly as possible.
"I don't see Kat," she whispered to Jordan. "Think maybe they changed their minds?"
"Even you aren't that lucky."
A loud bang, then the sound of a sliding metal door echoed through the room, making everyone turn and look. Behind a tall, slim older man, Kat came stumbling out of the door, looking disheveled and giggling. Wearing a pair of dark grey slacks, a white pinstriped buttoned shirt, and a devilish grin, Ian made his way over to Richard, Lucky, and Jordan.
"Ahh, you must be Lucky," he said in a crisp British accent that immediately charmed her. "I've been looking forward to this shoot." His tousled salt and pepper hair fell onto his forehead as he put his hand out to greet her.
As she placed her hand in his, he lifted her fingers to his lips and softly kissed them. She felt heat burn her cheeks and understood why Kat acted as foolishly as she did. There was something sensual about Ian many women couldn't resist.
"You're in good hands with Ian. He's photographed some of the best-known artists out there. I'm sure you're familiar with his pictures," Richard said.
"Yes, I will get the best you there is. The world will see not only how lovely you are, but the true artist within. Don't worry about what this man says," he pointed to Richard. "It's my eye, my art, not his."
Lucky thought he was full of bullshit, but she was willing to give him a chance. Kat walked over, still a little flushed, and held her hand out to her.
"I've been dying to meet you, I'm Kat Krave. I play keys and sing backup. I've heard some of your tape and I think we'll sound great together."
"Nice to meet you," said Lucky, surprised with how genuine Kat seemed.
"Lucky, let me introduce you to the rest of your band," Richard said. "This is Dylan Young. He's on bass." A man with shoulder-length light brown hair and a thin but muscular build nodded hello. "Paul Ryder is on drums."
The last of the band, Paul Ryder, stepped forward and smiled. His black hair was buzzed short except for the top, which hung longer and down into his eyes. He looked younger than all of them.
"It's great to be here, Lucky. I think I speak for everyone when I say that," Paul said.
"I'm happy to have you guys. I hope you love playing my music as much as I do."
A flashbulb popped and Ian grinned. "Just ignore me, love. Trust me when I say the more this camera goes off, the more you'll get used to it and the better my photos will be."
Lucky tried to forget the camera, but Ian was everywhere. She and the band continued to talk for a few minutes as Ian took candids. Eventually, they did forget he was around and ignored the flashes. When they appeared the most relaxed, Ian put his camera down and tested the bulbs at the plain white set he created.
He lined the band up with Lucky in the middle, turned towards the side with her foot facing forward, and Kat at one of the ends, then began shooting.
"Ian, maybe we should do one with Kat more centered," Richard suggested.
"Fuck off, Richard, I'm the artist here, not you. The camera loves Lucky, I'm not going to put Rock Star Barbie next to her."
"Hey!" Kat complained.
"Who are you kidding, darling?" Ian said as he continued to take pictures of the band, repositioning them slightly every few minutes.
Kat didn't reply and Lucky felt bad for her. She knew the reason Ian positioned her the way he did was to make her look thinner to the camera. Of course she was grateful he didn't say the words out loud. She was getting used to people picking on her size, she never realized that someone as perfect looking as Kat might get picked on, too.
While Lucky was lost in thought, Ian stepped back and snapped a few more photos then stopped. "Lucky darling, I'd like to take some of just you. After all, this isn't the Lucky Saldano Band, it's just Lucky Saldano," he said.
"Huh? Wha-- just me?"
"Yes. Would you mind changing?"
"Changing? I d
idn't bring any other clothes," Lucky said.
"Clear the set! Everyone go! I'm done with all of you. I need Lucky to be comfortable." He looked around the room as the band left and spotted Jordan texting in the corner. "You! Pixie Girl! My car is around back. Inside you'll find a shopping bag. Bring it here."
Jordan looked confused and shot Ian a nasty look but still went to the car like he asked. Lucky and Ian were seated talking quietly when Jordan returned.
"I just don't like having my picture taken," Lucky said. "Do you realize the label wanted me to lose weight? Kat was hired because I'm not pretty enough."
Lucky couldn't believe she opened up to Ian this way. He was a complete stranger, yet something about him made her feel at ease with him.
"Richard is an asshole," Ian said. "He only sees dollar signs. Yes, sex sells, Kat's appearance sells, but that's not what you're about. I can see that. You, love, are a rare girl." He grabbed the bag from Jordan and handed it to Lucky. "In here are some things I bought for this shoot. I guessed your size but I know it's right. If there's one thing I know, it's a woman's body. Put those on. I had your label send me your record before I agreed to do this shoot. As soon as I heard it, I got an image of what your album cover will look like. We're going to shoot that now."
Lucky listened to what Ian said and didn't question it. The thought of her album cover hadn't even entered her head. She recorded it just weeks ago, but it still wasn't real to her until Ian mentioned it. She took the bag and headed into the bathroom and changed.
Ian had selected a pair of white jeans with a peach belt and a white, midriff baring long-sleeved top. Lucky had on a peach and brown stone bracelet she pulled over the sleeve since the sleeves were so long. She felt uncomfortable showing her soft stomach and walked back to the set with her arms wrapped around herself.
"Perfect. Just relax," Ian said. "Pixie Girl, bring Lucky the guitar!"
Jordan grabbed an electric guitar that was in the corner next to her and handed it to Ian. He held the guitar upright and handed it to Lucky with the bottom resting on the ground and her holding onto the headstock. Next, he slid her hips to one side and went back to his camera.
Lucky: A Rockstar Romance Two Book Boxed Set Page 2
