by Meg Ripley
She felt heat rise in her cheeks. “Oh, you don’t have to say that for my sake.”
“He’s not.” This was Joel, the guitarist. He had dyed blonde hair with blue streaks, and intense blue eyes to match. “You were great, and a lot easier to work with than she was. We had to do about ten takes to get one song. As far as I’m concerned, you’re hired.”
“Agreed!” said the bassist and the keyboardist at once.
Mitch nodded. “Works for me. If they decide they don’t want us at this label, then we’ll just move onto the next one.”
She wondered if they had any idea of her link to Damien, but she decided to keep quiet about it for the moment. She didn’t want to ruin the high she was on, just in case it was something that might offend them. “Wow. Thank you. I’ll be in touch, but I’d better go.” Brianna had caught a glimpse of Damien through the window, and he looked antsy. She came through the door, resisting the urge to hug him this time.
He stood with his hands in his trouser pockets, his face serious. “Brianna…”
Oh, no. This was it. This was when he was going to tell her that he didn’t like the sound and he would have to pass. She would have to tell him that the band wanted her anyway, and then what would happen? Would he get pissed off and fire her?
“You were marvelous,” he finally finished.
“Really?” as she asked it, she realized just how much she wanted his approval of their performance, and it wasn’t just because he would be helping make the decision on a contract.
“Really.” His countenance had been hard a moment ago, but it had softened again. She felt herself melt a little. “I knew you would probably be a good fit, but that was phenomenal. What did they think?”
She didn’t want to lie to him about it and then be forced to tell the truth later. “They loved it,” she admitted. “They said they want me in the band, even if you don’t sign us.”
“Oh, so it’s ‘us’ now, is it?” Damien said with a laugh. “I’m glad to hear it. You definitely looked like you had chemistry with them, and that’s important.”
“Sure is,” Mike agreed. “It sure beats those scenarios when the bands do nothing but argue.”
Brianna was so flattered and pleased. She would have to go ahead and call Cathy again that night despite the cost, just so she could gush about every little detail. The adrenaline in her system was making everything around her look sharper, and she wanted to remember it all.
“Let’s get going. I know Mike has a little bit of work to do, and it will take the band a while to move all their instruments.” He touched her gently on the elbow and guided her out into the hall.
The rush of cool air hit her like a blast, and she realized just how warm it had been in the booth. Or maybe it was just her excitement. She glanced over her shoulder. “Do you think I should help the guys? I could carry a drum or a guitar or something.”
Damien laughed and kept walking. “Okay, now I know you get along well with them. Most singers wouldn’t be concerned about that. But I treat even my potential clients well, and I’ve already got several interns assigned to help them. They’ll be all right.”
“Good. I wouldn’t want them to think I’m afraid to pull a little weight.” If their former frontwoman had been such a pain, then she really wanted to set a precedence that she wouldn’t be.
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” He looked at her with a glint of pleasure in his eyes. “Let’s go out to dinner to celebrate, I’m starving.”
When they got in the car, Nena’s “99 Red Balloons” was playing on the radio. She loved the song, and she almost started singing along with it. Blowing through a short session like that with the band hadn’t been enough, and she would have sung along to a commercial for The Gap. But even though Damien had just heard her sing her heart out, she still felt a little self-conscious about belting it out in front of him alone.
He got behind the wheel, listened for a moment, and immediately flicked off the radio. “Sorry. I’ve just heard that one too many times.” He was back to that serious face again, and Brianna had to wonder what was going on. He was vacillating between sharing her enthusiasm and clamming up.
When they arrived at the restaurant, Mr. Van Buren let her out and they walked in, leaving a valet to park the Porsche. He guided her in through the arched front door, where a maître d looked down his nose at them.
“Do you have reservations, sir?”
“Not today.”
The man gave a little huff. “Your name?”
“Damien Van Buren.”
“Ah. Right this way.” He swiped two menus from his podium and turned on his heel.
Brianna started to follow, but then she noticed her surroundings. The arched windows, dim lighting, marble floor, and gleaming china made the place look like it must be the formal dining room in a palace. Soft classical music was the backdrop for tinkling silverware and the murmur of voices, and the scent of the air alone made her mouth water. Elegant floral arrangements brought a delicate pop of color to the cream of the walls and tables, as did paintings of eighteenth century gardens. She felt Damien’s gentle tug on her elbow, and she let him guide her along.
“Madame.” The maître d pulled out her chair for her and handed her a menu once she was seated.
“We’ll take a bottle of your finest white,” Damien said before the man left.
“This is quite the place,” she murmured, too dazzled to even look at the selections. The tablecloth was finer linen than even her mother’s Sunday best.
“Like I said, we’re celebrating,” he replied with a smile.
She tried to catch her breath. It had been a whirlwind of a day. First, Mr. Van Buren had sent her out shopping, then she’d had that incredible audition, and now she was clearly in one of the finest restaurants in the area. “And what, exactly, are we celebrating? I mean, we don’t know anything for certain yet.”
A young man appeared at the side of their table with a chilled bottle of Chardonnay. He opened it, poured a glass for each of them, and then put the bottle in a bucket of ice on the table. “Can I bring you any appetizers or take your order?” he asked quietly.
“I think we’ll need a few minutes, please.” When the waiter left, Mr. Van Buren turned back to Brianna. “I suppose what we’re celebrating is up to you.”
“How’s that?” She tried to look at her menu after the prompting from the waiter, but she couldn’t concentrate long enough to even read the descriptions. She was still too excited.
“Well, tomorrow marks the thirtieth day since you started working. It’ll be the end of your probationary period. How have you been feeling about the job?”
“It’s been wonderful,” she admitted. “I didn’t quite know what I was getting into. My mother tried to tell me that I would be miserable out here, watching the spoiled brat of some wealthy executive. Oh, please don’t listen to any of that. She just didn’t want me to leave.” Despite all the planning Brianna had put into coming to America, her mother still hadn’t been pleased.
“I can understand. I’m sure she misses you, and you were a valuable asset to her household.”
Brianna shrugged. “I suppose so, but it’s different here. I feel like I have more meaning, like Stephanie really needs me and like I’m doing something big by taking care of her. I don’t mean to make that sound self-important, she’s just such a special little girl.” It embarrassed her to talk to frankly in front of him. “I’m sorry, Mr. Van Buren. I think I’m still a little flustered.”
“That’s all right. I see the waiter working his way back over here. Do you know what you’d like?” Damien had been handed a menu when they were seated, but Brianna noticed that it sat folded on the table. Had he even looked at it?
“I don’t. I’m sorry; you know I’m not usually like this.” It was one thing to have a fantasy about coming to Los Angeles and exploring all the places she saw on TV and in the movies, but the reality of it was so much different. Most of the
time when she left the house, it only made her realize that she didn’t fit in. The new outfit and the recording session had made her feel—just for a moment—that she really was a part of something so much bigger than herself.
“Stop apologizing. How about the steak and lobster bisque? They’re both fantastic.” He ordered for both of them.
The waiter nodded, but he didn’t write anything down. He just took their menus and left.
“Now, then. You were telling me how impressive my daughter is, and how she’s going to grow up to be incredibly important.” He smiled at her across the table. “But seriously, I think we need to talk about your future. I’d like to know if you want to stay—at least for now, until you get your contract—or if I have to put another ad in the paper.”
He had an uncanny talent for making her feel awkward, and it was usually when he was complimenting her. She had hopes for the band, but she knew her chances were just as slim as anyone else’s. “I can’t imagine working anywhere else. I’d love to stay, if you’ll have me.”
“I don’t think Stephanie would have it any other way. There, now we really are celebrating.” He held up his glass in a toast. “To a continued job, at least until you move on to other pursuits.”
She clinked her glass against his and took a sip, pleased at just how good it was. Maybe that was just because she was floating on cloud nine. “We’ll see.”
“In the meantime, I need you to be perfectly honest with me about something.”
“Of course.” Brianna set her glass down. Her gaze flicked across the dining room, and she could have sworn that one of the other diners was Kirk Douglas.
Mr. Van Buren cleared his throat. “How come you didn’t tell me that you ran into my ex-wife?”
Brianna’s chest tightened and she raised one hand to her mouth. How had he found out about that? She had tried to put it behind her the best she could.
“It’s okay. I’m not angry, really, I just wish you had told me. Linda isn’t a very easy person to deal with, and I’m curious about your interaction.” He took another sip of his wine, perhaps to fortify himself against a conversation about his former spouse.
She drew in a deep breath. “Well, she saw me with Stephanie when I went for a walk on Rodeo Drive. I’m so sorry I didn’t say anything. I was just so shocked by the way she behaved, and it was my first full day on the job. I didn’t know what to say or how to talk about it.” Brianna looked down at the gold-rimmed plate in front of her, embarrassed. She should have been adult enough and professional enough to have come to him.
“That’s understandable. But I don’t want you to think you have to keep anything from me, even when it comes to Linda. Part of me doesn’t want to know, to be honest, but what did she say to you?”
She did her best to recount the confrontation, remembering the way that Linda had been delighted in her own cruelty. “She, um, she made some insinuations about the two of us.” Her face was beet red by now.
“I figured as much, by the way she talked to me earlier on the phone. I’m sorry for that. Linda has no right to talk to you at all. Please tell me right away if anything like that happens again so I can handle it. I don’t want her to think she can get away with it.”
His protectiveness over her was charming, but it was still awkward to have to discuss this. His ex had made very stark accusations that the two of them were sleeping together. It might have been laughable if she hadn’t been so attracted to him in the first place. “I will.”
“Good. I’ll need you to be in my corner, especially since she also told me she plans to take me back to court to get custody of Stephanie.”
Brianna had just picked up her glass, but she set it down again with a heavy thunk. A drop of wine sloshed over the rim and down the side, spreading in a slow stain on the pristine tablecloth. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t let it worry you. No judge in his or her right mind would grant it to her, but it might create a traumatic time for Stephanie. She loves you, and she’s really going to need you.”
“I’ll be there for her. Absolutely.” And it wouldn’t matter if she had a recording contract or not. She could be a nanny during the day, and she could record or play gigs or whatever else they needed her to do on the evenings and weekends. Even if they did well, it wasn’t as though they would rise to instant stardom. They were years away from any kind of tour, that much she was sure of.
Mr. Van Buren’s face was soft again. “Thank you. I need you to know just what a vital part you’ve played in my life over the last month. I didn’t know how I was possibly going to be a record exec and a single dad simultaneously. I almost thought it was impossible, but you’ve shown me that it isn’t. I can go to work without worrying about Stephanie getting the care that she needs. No, not just that, but loving care. And I appreciate it. Deeply.”
The heat in her face had spread down to her heart, and she tried to stop it from going any further. “She really is a special girl. It feels more like I’m getting payed to play instead of work. Up until you offered me the audition, I’d hardly thought about a music career at all since I arrived.”
He pursed his lips. “And I guess I haven’t made things any easier on you. Here I am taking you to a recording studio, and then turning around and asking you to stay on as a caregiver. I’m sure that complicates things for you.”
Brianna shook her head. “It’s fine. I really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Mr. Van Buren.”
“Please, call me Damien.”
Their orders arrived, giving Brianna a welcome distraction from the handsome, generous man seated across from her. She started in on her bisque, her mind flashing back to her time with the band. At that moment, she had felt as though she could do anything. Brianna could easily see herself going back home for a visit, flying first class, and wearing all the latest styles. She could only stay for a little while, because she would have to get back in time for a concert.
Unbidden, Damien also appeared in her fantasy. He had helped her rise to the top, showing her all the places to go and how to act while she was there. When he came home with her, he kept his hand on her elbow or at the small of her back, always reminding her that he was there for her. She glanced up at him, as embarrassed as if he had been able to see her thoughts.
Their conversation eventually resumed, but they stuck to topics like the food in front of them, the weather, or what Stephanie’s favorite dress was at the moment. Brianna felt better, happy to slide into the state of comfort and ease that they sometimes found when they were at home. It didn’t have to matter that they were in a ritzy restaurant or what a crazy afternoon it had been. They were just two adults, enjoying good food, good wine, and good conversation.
Chapter Nine
Almost a month later, it was time for Brianna’s first concert with the Mixups. They had still been trying to decide on a name when they had initially recorded with their first singer, but it had been much easier for them once Brianna had joined. As they told Damien, she just made things easy.
And as Damien had predicted, everything else they needed to accomplish was going smoothly. He had pulled some songs he had set aside and had Brianna try them out with the band so that they could have enough for a short set. She had gone to rehearse with them almost every night. In the meantime, he had also arranged for a photo shoot on a weekend so that Brianna wouldn’t have to miss work. It had been no problem to clear the signing with his boss, and Damien couldn’t be happier.
But for some reason, a nervous electricity encapsulated his stomach as soon as his alarm went off that Saturday morning. He never felt like this when things were happening for the other bands on the label; it was just business. But as Mike had noted, he was much more involved with Brianna. He had invested himself in her and her career, whichever one worked out for the better.
He slipped out from between the black satin sheets and stood up. Stretching as he took in the sunrise through the wall of windows across from his bed,
he wondered if this was just as nerve-racking for Brianna as it was for him.
After a shower and a shave, it was time for him to go wake Stephanie. It was Brianna’s day off, and he still had hours before he was supposed to drop his daughter off at his mother’s house for the concert. He didn’t mind spending some extra time with Stephanie. Linda had officially started the court proceedings against him, and most of their time had been taken up by meeting with social workers, lawyers, and arbitrators. From what his lawyer had told him, though, Linda didn’t stand a chance. “Good morning, baby girl,” he said softly as he ran his hand down her back. “Did you have sweet dreams?”
“Uh huh,” she replied sleepily, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. “Bri sing pretty.”
“Oh, did she tell you about that? She’ll sing real pretty tonight, I’m sure.”
“I sing!” Stephanie pointed at herself and grinned.
Damien smiled. “Okay. You sing for me.”
She indulged him in a rather garbled version of “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.”
“That’s so adorable, I’m sure it deserves its very own platinum record. Now, let’s get you downstairs to breakfast. But we have to be quiet; I’m sure Brianna is still sleeping.” He picked Stephanie up and slipped quietly past the nanny’s bedroom. He had seen the light on under her door when he had gotten up in the middle of the night to get a drink, so she must have stayed up late.
But to his surprise, she was already seated at the kitchen table. Wrapped in a fuzzy bathrobe, Brianna absently sipped at a mug of coffee while she studied a sheaf of papers in front of her. A stack of fashion and entertainment magazines had already been scattered on the table.
“I guess you have to get up pretty early around here to catch the worm,” he quipped as he brought Stephanie in and set her in her high chair.
Brianna looked up, startled, and immediately began gathering up her magazines to get them out of the way. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep.”
