The Rookie and The Rockstar
Page 25
“You’ve been nominated for best album and best song.”
Me?
Nominated?
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I ask, that adrenaline I feel from time to time rushing through my body.
Janice laughs, “No, I’m not kidding you. The nominations were just announced. Looks like I’ll need to make you some travel plans.”
“What?” Bo asks, sitting up beside me and letting the sheet fall to his waist, almost giving me the full show.
“I’ve been nominated for best album and best song...at the MTV Music Awards,” I whisper, my smile growing with each word. “Can you believe it?”
Bo’s smile matches mine when he grabs me and manhandles me into his lap, kissing the side of my head and squeezing me to him. “So proud of you, baby,” he says against my hair.
Remembering I’m still on the phone with Janice, I confirm what she’d asked. “Yes, please make travel plans,” I tell her. “Casey will definitely accompany me. I’ll let you know if my parents can make it, but I’m assuming they will—”
“And me,” Bo interjects, causing me to turn in his lap to face him.
His pointed stare makes me pause. “You have games,” I tell him, not even bothering covering the receiver.
“We’ll work something out...I’ll check my schedule and see if it’s an off day. If not, maybe it’ll be a day game and I can fly out afterward,” he tells me, his expression leaving no room for argument.
“Bo will be my plus one,” I tell Janice, looking back at him once more. Just in case he can swing it, because I’d give anything for him to be there.
When I get off the phone with Janice, Bo gives me a congratulatory orgasm.
Returning the favor, I give him a thank you blow job.
And then we have nomination sex.
I can only assume award sex will be out of the park.
August
Bo
Stepping out of the limo behind Charlotte, I know I should be nervous. All of the cameras. All the people. And not a baseball diamond in sight. But I’m not, because holding my hand is the most beautiful woman in the world, and she’s mine.
Fortunately, the Revelers were playing a four-game series in Seattle that ended today. I was able to get a flight to L.A. instead of New Orleans, and I’ll have to fly back out at the ass crack of dawn tomorrow for a home game, but it’s worth it. Being here, with Charlotte, is worth all the lost sleep and fucking airport bullshit. Anything to be by her side.
“Lola,” reporters and interviewers call out when they spot her in the long line of celebrities, everyone from the hottest box office star to the latest boy band is here.
“Lola, over here!”
“Bo!”
Hearing my name makes me turn around, a flash nearly blinding me, Charlotte’s grip tightening. “Stay with me,” she whispers, but she doesn’t need to tell me that. I’m not going anywhere without her. Ever.
“Lola, are you and Bo engaged?” one reporter yells, more flashes.
“Lola, what’s next?”
“Will you be touring next year?”
“Lola, will there be another album in your future?”
All of the questions they’re asking are things we’ve talked about, but I know she won’t be giving them answers tonight. Charlotte wants to finish out the season on the road with me, which makes me the happiest person on the planet. She’s ready to take a step back for a while. That’s not to say she won’t consider doing a tour at some point or another album, but she’s keeping her schedule clear for the foreseeable future.
After posing for a few photos, Charlotte takes a couple scheduled interviews, talking briefly about her album. Janice, Charlotte’s new manager, giving every reporter strict instruction on what they can and can’t ask.
This woman is amazing. I don’t know her very well yet, but right off the bat, she came across honest and like she has Charlotte’s best interest at heart and that’s enough for me.
Once we make it to the auditorium, we’re guided to our seats, and not long after, the show begins. Having watched things like this from my living room hundreds of times, it feels a bit surreal seeing it in person. Charlotte’s parents are here with Casey, but they’re sitting behind us somewhere. We have plans to meet up after the show.
I find myself amazed at the production, my eyes constantly jumping from one thing to the next, but every time I look at Charlotte, she’s looking at me. Every person in this place is looking at her, but she’s spent the whole night looking at me
“You okay?” I ask.
She offers me a soft smile, her eyes roaming my face. “Never better.”
“Nervous?”
Shaking her head, she leans over and places her lips on my cheek. I wouldn’t doubt that a camera somewhere is getting all of this, but I don’t care.
“And the award for best song goes to…” The girl announcing is someone I’ve never heard of, but she’s wearing a ridiculous dress, the sequined skirt barely covering her ass. Charlotte’s hand squeezes mine and I stroke the top of hers with my thumb, letting her know it’s okay. I know she wants this, but if she doesn’t win, it won’t change anything...definitely not the way I feel about her.
“Lola Carradine for Hard Hitter!” The squeal the girl lets out and the way she bounces on stage makes me like her a little more. If she’s a fan of my girl, then I guess I can let her poor choice in clothing slide.
Charlotte’s gasp, followed by a loud exhale brings me out of my stupor and into the moment. We stand in unison and I wrap her in a hug, kissing her passionately. “Congratulations.”
There are unshed tears in her eyes when she leans back. I know those are for a lot of things—the years, the hours, the struggle, the heartache, as well as the triumphs and gains.
Stepping back, I make room for her to slip past me and I fight the urge to follow her to the stage, wanting to make sure she’s okay, protect her from any bad that could possibly come her way. But I know that I can’t...she doesn’t want a bodyguard. She has one of those. She wants someone who will be there for her, stand beside her, support her, and cheer her on.
I’ll gladly do that. Every day for the rest of my life.
Whistling like only a true baseball player can, I watch as Charlotte takes the stage, her eyes coming back to me. I love you, she mouths, blowing a kiss in my direction.
I say it right back.
“Wow,” she says, holding the award out to get a good look at it. “I...uh...wow.” She laughs, her bright eyes and wide smile winning over the crowd. When they cheer, she holds the award up in the air. When the room quiets again, she unfolds a small piece of paper. “This is crazy,” she continues, glancing back up, so calm and collected, even in the face of all of these people. “After all these years, being on television and writing music...performing...I’ve never won an award, but it’s fitting that this would be my first.”
She pauses, her gaze scanning the crowd and then settling back on me.
“This song was inspired by someone who inspires me. Thank you, Bo, for everything.” Taking a deep breath and turning back to her piece of paper, she continues. “I’d also like to thank my parents and my sister. Without your support, I wouldn’t be here today. I love y’all so much. To my label, thank you for believing in me and giving me the freedom to write my own songs. To my new manager, Janice, thank you for agreeing to go on this journey with me. And to my fans, thank y’all so much for loving this song as much as I do.” Her smile so wide, it lights up the stage. “This is for you!”
Pete Rose once said he’d walk through hell in a gasoline suit to play baseball.
I used to feel that way too, but now I feel that way about Charlotte Carradine.
I’d do that for her, whatever it takes to be with her. Baseball will always be here, it’s in my blood, I was born to play, but I was also born to be with her.
She’s my true home plate, where I want to be when everything is said and done.
Acknowle
dgements
And now for the part where we say thank you, which seems entirely insignificant because everyone we mention plays such a big part in this process.
To the VIPs in our lives—our kiddos, family, friends, and readers. What is life without amazing people to share it with? We think this is a valuable lesson Bo Bennett and Charlotte Carradine learn throughout TRATR. We all need people...and we’re so thankful for ours.
First, we’d like to thank Pamela Stephenson for being our beta reader! She’s always there from the beginning, watching and reading as the story takes shape. Thanks for being you, Pamela!!
We’d also like to thank Nikki, our editor. Thank you for always approaching every new story we throw at you with an insightful eye. We knew this book would need your expertise and you came through for us. Also, to Mr. Strauss, thank you for the baseball insight.
Our proofreader, friend, and drinking buddy, Mrs. Karin Enders. Thank you for everything! We appreciate your time, effort, and most of all, your friendship!
We’d also like to thank our cover designer and formatter, Julianna. Thank you for the creativity and time you put into this one...making it something different that stands out. We love your attention to detail!
Also, a huge shout-out to our pimp team—Pamela, Lynette, Megan, Shannon, Candace, Stefanie, Laura, Kat, Debbie, Polly, Letica. Thank you for always putting your two-cents worth in and giving us a safe place to bounce ideas! We love y’all!
Thank you to all of our readers and everyone in Jiffy Kate’s Southern Belles. All of you make our days better. BTW, if you are a reader and you’re not in our group, you should join! We have a lot of fun and have frequent giveaways. You don’t want to miss out.
Would you like to read more books by Jiffy Kate?
Check out their other works...
Finding Focus Series (complete)
Finding Focus
Chasing Castles
Fighting Fire
Taming Trouble
Table 10 (complete)
Table 10 – Part 1
Table 10 – Part 2
Table 10 – Part 3
The French Quarter Novels
Blue Bayou
Come Again
Turn of Fate (previously titled The Other One)
Standalones
Watch and See
About the Authors
Jiffy Kate is the joint pen name for Jiff Simpson and Jenny Kate Altman.
Jiff was born and raised in Louisiana, but she now lives in Texas with her two teenagers and her two English Bulldogs, Georgia Rose and Jake. She loves Project Runway, Queen, 80’s music and movies, and the color purple. When she’s not shaping the lives of our future generation, you can find her planning her next vacation to Disney.
Jenny Kate is a small-town girl from Oklahoma. She’s a self-proclaimed coffee junkie/connoisseur. Her husband stays annoyed at her taste in music and her teenager thinks she’s weird, so basically, she’s winning at life. Between a full-time job as an accounting assistant and her three rambunctious fur babies, she’s often dreaming about maid services and vacation days.
Together, they spend their evenings and weekends spinning tails and hoping one day they hit a best-sellers list.
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