I’m thankful for his help because it’s made a huge difference when it comes to being in the studio with Laurie.
It just sucks that I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to sleep with him even though I know we can’t. It’s hard not to daydream about a man like Laz Rawlings.
I really anticipated bonding with Candace during this experience, but I fear it might have done more harm than good to our relationship. While she hasn’t been mean to me or anything, things feel different between us. I’m trying my hardest to give her some space, like Laz suggested, and allow things to work themselves out.
I sit quietly next to Candace during breakfast and listen as she carries on a conversation with Annamea about different hairstyles the two of them envision for the look and feel of the group. It’s odd, considering how I thought the two of them weren’t going to get along since they were both battling for the lead position. I guess, since Laz appointed me to that spot, it’s taken the stress off and made it easier for the two of them to get to know one another because they both seem to have a common enemy to compete with for the lead now.
The moment Laz strolls into the room, my back straightens as he grabs my full attention. We’ve come to expect Laz to address us at the beginning of each day, and if I’m being honest, it’s my favorite way to start the morning because I get to openly ogle him.
He’s looking extra sexy today in a baseball cap and faded jeans paired with a fitted gray T-shirt that hugs every curve of his sculpted chest. It’s just too damn bad that he’s off-limits.
“Good morning, ladies.” He addresses the room as he steps behind Cam and Laurie, who are seated directly across from me. “Since we’ve had some time to work with all you, I think I’ve seen enough to make my decision on the final cuts for this group.”
My heart instantly leaps into my throat as I think back on all the voice and dance sessions I’ve had since I’ve been here. While I wouldn’t blame him for cutting such a shitty dancer like me, I really, really hope he won’t. Being here has made me realize how much I want to make music my career, and I am sure an opportunity like this happens only once in a lifetime.
I briefly close my eyes as panic threatens to choke me. This could possibly be the end of my dream.
His eyes scan the faces in the room. “I’ve discussed things over with my team, Cam and Laurie, and we’ve concluded that there should be no more than four ladies in this group, which, unfortunately, means that two of you will not be moving forward with us.”
Out of nowhere, Candace reaches over and clutches my hand. Without any hesitation, I turn my hand over and lock fingers with her, letting her know that I fully understand her fear and feel the same way. It’s nice to know she still depends on me for support even though things between us have been a little rocky lately.
“There’s no easy way to do this, so, Donna and Olivia, the two of you will not be staying with us.” Laz lifts his chin when he makes eye contact with the two women. “While we believe the two of you are talented, sadly, we don’t feel that either of you would be a good fit for the group.”
Olivia chews her lip, trying hard to hold in her emotions while Donna does nothing to disguise the fact that she’s crushed as her sob echoes in the large formal dining space.
As if on cue, Robert enters the room, and Laz’s gaze flits in his direction as he tells the two women Robert will help them pack and carry their luggage to their vehicles.
Everyone’s quiet as the women head out of the room. It feels wrong to erupt into any type of celebration, knowing their hearts were broken right in front of us.
When the room is clear, Laz says, “As for the rest of you, congratulations. You’re the official members of The Vixens.”
Candace turns to me and wraps her arms around my neck, squeezing me tight. “Oh, my God, Drea! We did it. Both of us! I’m so sorry I’ve been an asshole. I was scared I wasn’t good enough, and I didn’t know how to handle all my fear. Really, I was happy for you but sad for me at the same time. It was wrong of me to be jealous. Obviously, there’s room for both of us, but with how amazing you are, I was worried they wouldn’t need me.”
I hug her back as tight as I can. “You don’t have to be sorry. We’re sisters. I think you’re pretty amazing, too. There’s no one else I would rather have in my corner.”
She pulls back and smiles. “Ditto.”
We both laugh after she uses a phrase from one of our favorite romance movies. It feels good to have my sister back.
“As a reward”—Laz’s voice grabs my attention—“I booked a show for you tonight at a local nightclub. You’re going to perform a cover song, one you should all be familiar with. Laurie is here to firm up your routine, and Mickey, Cam, and I will help you get ready for tonight’s vocal performance.”
My eyes widen, and I freeze.
Perform? Tonight? Already? I’m not ready. Surely, I heard him wrong.
“Don’t you dare,” Candace’s voice says in my ear. “You’re going to be great. Don’t freak out. Backing out this time isn’t an option. I need you. This group and Laz need you.”
The thought of letting down so many people who are depending on me isn’t one I want to entertain. Even though the idea of standing in front of a crowd and baring my soul scares the absolute shit out of me, disappointing Candace and Laz freaks me out more.
“I need you all to be dressed to kill at eight, so we can make it downtown on time. This will be the first time we reveal you to the world.” He pauses and takes the time to make eye contact with each one of us, and my heart races when his gaze locks with mine.
I wish I didn’t crave him the way I do. It’s difficult when you’re in lust with your boss and know nothing can ever happen between the two of you. It would be so much easier to quit, but I can’t find it in me to walk away from my dream.
I’m just going to have to find a way to deal with it.
“Let’s give them something to discuss, ladies,” Laz instructs.
I swallow hard, doing my best to combat the butterflies banging around in my stomach.
“We want everyone to be buzzing about this hot, new girl group.”
Tonight is going to be one of the biggest tests of my life. I pray I won’t screw this up. People are counting on me.
16
Waiting for Tonight
Lazarus
Staying away from Drea the past few weeks has proven to be a problematic task, given that she’s living at my family’s estate. It’s difficult to only be her friend, but I have no other option in the matter. Part of Peter’s deal is that the girls in the group are off-limits. I don’t blame him for making the stipulation, considering what happened the last time I got involved with a young singer I was tasked with cultivating.
Not a day goes by when my mind doesn’t drift back to Jenna and how her death ultimately is on my hands. Back then, Peter and I were inseparable. We both did our best to take care of Jenna. He was in love with her, too, which is why she could never choose between us. Peter’s never forgiven me for getting Jenna into the drug scene, and had I known that partying would lead to a freak OD from some bad drugs, I would’ve stopped it all before it ever began.
I understand the whole “not fucking around with the girls” thing, but I’m a different man. Peter doesn’t believe that, though, and he doesn’t want a repeat situation where I drag another girl down the wrong path with me. So Drea and I can’t happen. It won’t matter to Peter that I’m clean and that I see a doctor for my recovery. He’ll never see me as more than a drug addict who fed the woman he loved drugs that killed her.
If it wasn’t for my father still owning Rawlings Records, I doubt Peter would have even granted me permission to step foot in the building.
I shake my head and refocus my attention back onto my father.
I lower Pop into his lift chair that’s positioned directly in front of his gigantic flat screen. I work quickly, hooking the ventilator hose back up to his trach. Relief floods me as
I witness his chest rise and fall with the help of his mechanical breathing machine. I arrange his hands and feet, and then I wrap his neck pillow around him to set his head in just the right position.
“You good, Pop?” I ask as my eyes scan over him.
Taking care of my father is a full-time job since his disease has deteriorated his muscles to the point of him being completely dependent. The past couple of years, I’ve learned how to do a lot of medical shit in order to take care of him. This disease has taken everything away from Pop, even his voice.
Pop has a little movement left in his left foot, which allows him to activate a switch to control his DynaVox speech device. On top of the device being able to speak for him in a robotic voice, it changes television channels, controls the lights in the room, plays music, and lets him use his computer. This one device accounts for all the control he has over things in his life. Everything else, he counts on Robert and me for.
“Y,” the voice says through the speakers, alerting me to our code for yes so that he doesn’t have to spell out the entire word.
I sit down next to him as he begins typing something out, and I wait to see what he has to say. It takes a while, and the one thing I’ve learned is, it requires patience when communicating with someone who isn’t verbal anymore. His brain is fully alert. It’s like my father is trapped in his own body. The entire situation breaks my heart, and it’s hard to see the powerful man I knew all my life be so dependent like he is now.
After a few minutes, the sentence becomes clear, and he presses the speak button. “Do you think the group is ready?”
I take a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I do. The four I narrowed it down to have some real talent. Cam, Laurie, Mickey, and I have really put them through the wringer this past week. If tonight goes as I envision, people are going to fall in love with them.”
“Lead?” he asks.
“Drea,” I confirm. “Her voice … it’s special, Pop. She’s really got something, and out of all the ladies, she’s the most talented.”
“What does Peter say?”
I grimace. “He hasn’t heard them sing yet. He’s coming to the showcase tonight.”
“Tell him to see me.”
I nod, knowing that he wants Peter’s opinion since he isn’t as close to the project and will be more subjective.
While my father is still the owner of Rawlings Records, Peter is the acting CEO—a job Pop didn’t feel I was up to when he got sick, given my abuse issues. I don’t begrudge Pop for that. A little over two years ago, when he initially started having problems, he made his decision on who would take over the company, and I was in no shape to oversee anything. I couldn’t even be responsible for myself, let alone a multimillion-dollar company. Peter was a logical choice—a longtime family friend whom my father knew well and trusted.
“You sing?”
My eyes flit over to Pop, and I shake my head. “No.”
It’s gotten easier for me to read the emotion in my father’s eyes since I’ve really started paying close attention. There’s sadness in them when I tell him I’m not singing. I haven’t done that in a while. I haven’t felt that passion in the pit of my gut in a long time—not since Mom passed away. Emotionally, pouring my heart into a song right now is too taxing, which is why I’ve stuck to producing other artists.
“I miss your voice,” Pop says.
I give him a small smile.
He and my mother were my biggest fans and cheerleaders. I’ve been around this business long enough to see the damage caused to young entertainers who don’t have supportive parents, and in that regard, I’ve been blessed. He and Mom loved to hear me sing. It makes him sad that I’ve stopped.
Mom always told me I was the best thing that ever happened to her and Pop. Bringing me home was the greatest day of her life. Growing up, I always thought I was lucky because these people chose me. I wasn’t an accident in their life because they’d sought me out and adopted me from a young teenage girl who had no clue who my father was. I can only imagine what my life would’ve been like had I not had my parents.
A quick rap on the door draws my attention.
Robert enters the room. “Does he need anything else?”
Pop draws his bottom lip down a bit, his way of saying no.
“I think he’s good.” I turn my attention back to Pop. I stand and then lean over and kiss him on the top of his head. “Night, Pop. I’ll tell you all about the show tomorrow. Cam’s taking his camera, so he can cut a video and get it up on the internet to start some buzz. When that’s done, I’ll show you it, too.”
“Luck,” the voice says for him.
“Thanks. God knows I’ll need it, throwing these newbies on the stage without much prep.” I turn to Robert. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll be downtown for a few hours, but I don’t plan on sticking around to celebrate.”
I’m glad I don’t have to elaborate any more than that. Robert has been around for a couple of years and is well aware of my struggle with addiction. It’s something Pop felt he needed to be aware of since he would be living here with us. In reality, it was so that he could help keep an eye on things for my old man.
“Good luck tonight, Lazarus—not that I think you’ll need it. You’ve got some talented ladies, so I’m sure all will go well,” Robert says.
I give him a nod before I turn to head out the door. I hope he’s right. Tonight will be a great indicator of what this group needs to work on. Live performances bring stress, and cracks in the group will make themselves evident.
17
Drumroll, Please
Lazarus
Outside the small office, I pace back and forth as I wait on the girls to touch up their makeup. I don’t know who’s more fucking nervous—me or them.
“Jesus, dude, calm down. You’re a wreck. They’re going to kill it. Trust the talent we’ve found and cultivated,” Cam says as he does his best to get me to chill out. “I haven’t seen you like this since our first performance. Don’t you remember how great we did? All your worrying was for nothing.”
I raise my eyebrows. “I don’t think we recall that night the same. We totally screwed up the routine. Jimmy forgot the lyrics.”
Cam dismissively waves me off as he adjusts his baseball cap. “Semantics. The crowd went nuts for us. Don’t you remember that?”
“I do, but we were also six cute teenage boys, singing like grown men, and people ate that gimmick up. This is a whole different situation.”
He shrugs. “The four women behind that door are smoking hot. I’m pretty sure this place will go nuts even if they got up there and sang the alphabet. Trust me, Laz, the girls got this. It’s going to be rocky—all first performances are—but we’ll use this as a tool to work out the kinks.”
“Maybe you’re right,” I concede, knowing I do tend to overreact.
“Damn straight, I’m right. Now, relax and be confident that our women can handle this.”
I shake my head and chuckle. “Our women?”
“Yeah, Drea and Candace—our women.”
I defensively hold up my hands. “Whoa. I think you—”
“This is me you’re talking to here. And are you forgetting that I walked in on you giving Drea a little private dance lesson?” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“That was nothing,” I defend.
Cam smirks. “Sure, it was. It’s okay to admit that you want Drea. I don’t give a fuck about Peter’s stupid rule. God knows, if Candace gave me the green light, I’d be all over her, not giving two shits about what Peter would have to say about it.”
“Yeah, maybe, but you don’t have your royalty checks riding on the deal like I do. If I cross that line, everything I’ve worked to obtain on my own will be flushed down the damn toilet, and Peter will get what he’s always wanted—me completely out of the Rawlings Records picture.”
“Peter’s a douchebag,” he chimes in. “I really don’t see how the two of you were ever friends.”
&n
bsp; I sigh. “Me either.”
The bar manager walks over to Cam and me, wearing his white dress shirt and black slacks and looking like he belongs more in a bank than at a nightclub. “Your girls ready?”
I nod and then pound on the door before I open it and poke my head inside. “Let’s go, ladies.”
Laycee and Annamea are the first to come out of the room, and the manager’s eyes move appreciatively over them. They both have on the agreed upon black spandex outfit for the group, each outfit varying a tad on length in style, but the overall concept the same—tight and revealing.
I stick my head back inside the door, looking for my two missing group members, and my eyes land on Candace. She is squatting down with her hands on Drea’s bare knees like she’s pleading with her.
Drea is incredibly shy and still doubts herself even though I’ve told her over and over how amazing she is. I wish there were some way I could make her see what I see when she sings.
I step inside the room and close the door behind me. Concern fills every inch of me. “Drea? You okay?”
She stares up at me wide-eyed, making her seem so innocent, which is a stark contract between the form-fitting outfit she’s wearing that shows off entirely too much cleavage for the crowd full of men to see. The idea of other guys looking at her, causes me to feel jealous as hell, but I know entertaining a crowd, and stage costumes are a part of the business.
A deep frown etches into Drea’s face. “I don’t know if I can do this. I’m not ready. I’m not … I can’t … I’m not good enough.”
“You are good enough,” I confirm, doing my best to give her confidence a last minute boost. “You wouldn’t have made the group otherwise.”
“I told you, Drea. Since the first time I heard you sing, I knew that you were born to do this. Your fear of messing up or not being liked is crippling you. You have to dig deep and overcome it,” Candace says, doing her best to instill faith in Drea.
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