The Complete Rockstar Series

by Heather C. Leigh

  I smile and drop my eyes again, “I know about the article, Gemma. That’s why I’m here. I need help. I’ve been trying to get a hold of Adam, but it’s as if he’s a bloody MI-6 agent! No one will forward a message to him or even admit that they can forward a message.”

  Gemma’s eyes narrow when I look up, and she gets a mischievous look on her face. “Good thing I’m an expert at being devious and sneaky.”

  * * *

  Surfing the internet isn’t something I do regularly. If I do, it’s usually on my tiny mobile which is too frustrating to use for much more than checking the news or finding a good place to eat.

  “Crap!” I shout, slapping my hand down on my kitchen table in aggravation.

  I’ve been searching for something, anything to use to contact Adam on my brand new laptop. All I’ve found so far is an address for some stupid fan club. Thanks but no, I don’t want an autographed picture of the band.

  I’m left wanting to pound my head into the tabletop, so I decide to lay my cheek down on it instead. It shouldn’t be this hard to find something, I mean, crazy people find celebrities houses all the time, right? Weirdoes and stalkers and such… Okay, so I’m not a weirdo or a stalker, but still! If someone mentally unbalanced can show up at Sandra Bullock’s home and get inside, my reasonably intelligent self should be able to find a way to contact Adam Reynolds.

  For four months I’ve been calling and leaving various messages with different people at his record label. I sent letters addressed to every single member of the band, hoping that just one might make it into their hands. Not a word from anyone. Gemma said she’s working on it for me, but it’s been three months since I poured my heart out to her and she hasn’t heard from anyone she’s contacted either.

  I snatch up my phone and ring one of only two people in my life that I can whine to about Adam.

  “Ellie? It’s the middle of the work day, are you alright?”

  “Yes Mum,” I rub my eyes tiredly. “I worked a long shift yesterday, so I’m off today.”

  “Oh, okay. I was wondering.”

  “Mum, I haven’t had any luck getting through to Adam. You don’t think he’s gotten my messages and is just ignoring me, do you?”

  That is the real reason for the acid-churning ache in my gut every day, why I hardly sleep anymore and have bags under my eyes the size of jumbo jets, why I’m so edgy and nervous that my friends are giving me looks as though I’m two steps from being committed to a mental hospital.

  What if Adam got the messages and doesn’t want me anymore?

  I’m not stupid. He was dating that terrible American actress, Kiera Radcliff for a while, then the red tops all said that he’s been in a tussle with actor Andrew Forrester over some red haired girl whose parents are actors as well. As far as I know he could have completely moved on from me.

  But that song says different.

  “El, that boy loves you and always will. I don’t think he’d purposely keep you out of his life.”

  My heart clenches at the thought and I shiver in fear. “I hope not, Mum.” I sigh into the phone and slouch back in my chair. “I’m at a complete loss here. I have no idea how to find him short of showing up at his record label and camping out until he shows up!”

  “Well, what about Dax?”

  “What about him, Mum?” I chew anxiously on my thumbnail as I wait to hear what she’s thinking.

  “Doesn’t Dax still have family here?”

  “What?” I sit up straight and take my thumb out of my mouth.

  “Dax dear. Doesn’t he have a big family in Hackney?” Mum asks.

  “No, he moved his parents out of Hackney… but, oh! Oh my gosh, Mum! You’re genius! I think I know a way. I have to go.” I end the call and jump up out of my seat. A surge of energy flows through me, sending unfamiliar waves of hope rushing to my heart.

  “Shit, I hope I know what I’m doing,” I murmur as I grab my handbag and keys and rush out the door.

  37

  Adam

  “Hello Lucy.” I’m as friendly as I can manage as I greet my old schoolmate at the hostess station of Dirty Bird, a restaurant owned by another old schoolmate of mine, Prescott Sharma. He could have mentioned that Lucy Collins worked for him. She pursued me back in sixth form, hard. Yeah, I gave in and shagged her once, but God she was a pain in the ass.

  “Adam,” she purrs, her eyes flashing with desire, the dollar sign kind of desire, not the sexual kind. Although, I’m certain she would be up for that as well. “Nice to see you again, it’s been ages.”

  She tries to go in for a kiss but I thrust out my hand and she’s forced to shake it instead. The evil look she gives me isn’t subtle, she’s pissed off.

  “Yes, nice to see you. Prescott reserved the chef’s room for me and a friend. Is it ready? I don’t really want to be out here in view of everyone for any longer than necessary.” Heads are already starting to turn my way and the loud whispering has begun.

  “Of course, it’s this way Adam.”

  I follow her through the restaurant, ignoring the way she’s blatantly swinging her hips in an attempt to be sexy. Christ, she’ll never give it up. It’s quite pathetic and overall makes her very unattractive.

  “Here’s your table Adam.” She opens the door to a private room near the kitchen. I’ve dined here before, so I already knew that the room has a wall of glass so you can watch the action in the kitchen as you eat. It’s brilliant really, a chef’s table without being in the actual kitchen where it’s hot and sweaty and sometimes a little crazy.

  “Thank you Lucy. Please bring my friend back here as soon as she arrives, and let the waiter know that I’d like two pints of Spitfire Ale, please.”

  Lucy scowls, clearly wanting to say something else, but she realizes that she’s being dismissed and leaves without embarrassing herself any further.

  That’s a first.

  I pull out my phone and read the latest updates regarding Kiera’s arrest. Turns out Dax was right, she went down spectacularly. Making threats to kill Sydney? I knew she was crazy, but she’s downright psychotic. Thank God we broke up a while ago.

  The door opens and Lucy escorts Sydney into the room. I put my phone away so I can stand and greet her. “Sydney, you look lovely. Much better than last night.” I give her a quick hug.

  Last night, Sydney asked me to meet her at a college bar near NYU. She said she just needed to get out and have fun, but she definitely seemed sadder than usual.

  She sits in the chair I pull out for her and smiles.

  Lucy speaks before Sydney can say anything to me. “If you need anything else, your server is Victor and he’ll be by in a moment.” With that, she’s gone, thank God.

  We eat while Sydney shows me her ideas for my new flat. They’re all brilliant, just like I knew they’d be. I’m hoping that the redesign of my flat will help to further raise her profile as a great designer. She deserves the recognition, because she is bloody brilliant.

  As she’s speaking, I realize that she honestly thinks I hired her to get her into bed. Which, since I almost think of her as Ellie’s little sister, is hilarious when it comes right down to it.

  “You still think I did all of this to get into your knickers, don’t you?”

  She bursts out laughing at my blatant question. “Oh my God! I don’t know Adam, it’s all too convenient. Don’t you think?”

  Convenient?

  Firstly, I don’t want in her knickers, not really. Secondly, she’s with that arsehole Forrester, therefore, not someone I would want to be with for personal reasons. Well, maybe to piss him off, but the resulting rift between Syd and me wouldn’t be worth it.

  I can’t think of a good reply, so I go with veiled honesty. “Actually, if I wanted to be with you, I would find it decidedly inconvenient, seeing as you’re not available and all.”

  She blushes at my response, but manages to change the subject gracefully. “Can I ask you something?”

  Interesting. Maybe I can
get the tight-lipped Miss Tannen to reveal some things about herself in exchange. “Only if I get an answer in return,” I throw back at her.

  Sydney thinks it over for a moment before answering. “Alright, you can ask your question, but I’m pretty private. You may not get the answer that you want.”

  Seems reasonable to me, so I agree. “Fair enough, what’s your question?” I lean across the table so I can see her eyes. She’s very evasive, but I can usually tell how she’s feeling by her expressive eyes. Even though it kills me to look in them, considering they’re identical to Ellie’s.

  “Ummmm…” She loses her train of thought for a moment, then shakes her head slightly and continues. “Why do you and Drew hate each other so much? It doesn’t seem as though it’s just about Kiera. It feels like it goes back further than that.”

  Great, the one question I don’t want to have to answer is the one she asks. I knew it would come up eventually, but I don’t want to be the one to let her know that the guy she’s dating is a massive prick.

  Sydney senses my discomfort. Being the kind person that she is, she refuses to press me for answers. “If you don’t want to tell me, I understand.”

  I can’t look at those eyes of hers as I respond, I don’t want to see the disappointment in them. It’s too painful, too much like Ellie. “No, it’s not that Sydney. I just… I don’t want to speak ill of your boyfriend in front of you.”

  “Well, I appreciate your discretion Adam.” Naturally, she’s understanding of my reluctance. Fuck! She’s too good for that tosser! She’s too good for most people I would guess.

  I suck it up and meet her confused gaze. “Can I still ask mine?”

  “Sure, but like I said, I’m extremely private and don’t like discussing myself.”

  What a shock, I think sarcastically. She’s only the most insanely private person I’ve ever met. I smirk at her. “I’ve noticed. I think the fact that I had no bloody clue who you were and you never said a word to me sums it up nicely.”

  Sydney smirks right back, playfully teasing me. “You never told me who you were either, Adam.”

  “Right, I forgot. The only female I’ve ever encountered who didn’t recognize me. It was fucking brilliant!” I grin as I remember her innocence when we first met, how contained and cautious she was.

  “Yes, well, I couldn’t let you get a big head thinking you were all that. Someone had to crush that massive ego you have,” she laughs.

  Yeah, I’ve got plenty of experience having my ego crushed. Ellie rejecting me by text message comes to mind. “Well, you’re not the first one to crush it, Sydney.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  Crap. I didn’t mean to worry her. I wave my hand indifferently. “Don’t worry about it Sweetheart, it’s nothing.”

  I change the subject, not wanting to discuss Ellie, it’s too painful. “So, my question?”

  “You didn’t ask me yet, I forgot.” She looks scared, miserable actually.

  “Are you alright?” I’m genuinely concerned for her wellbeing. Sydney hasn’t looked well lately, in fact, she’s looked downright depressed. The urge to wrap her up in my arms and protect her flares up stronger than usual.

  “I’m fine,” she whispers, clearly lying to spare me her burden.

  “I’m not trying to push you Sydney, but I know a lot has happened to you and you seem… I don’t know, really sad lately.”

  “I’m coping. As best I can, I guess.” Her glistening eyes meet mine and my heart breaks for her. Something is eating away at this beautiful, sad girl. All I want to do is fix it, make it better for her, but I can’t.

  “It doesn’t seem like you are.” I get up and circle the table, crouching down next to her chair. Her small hand fits right in mine as I take it and reassuringly squeeze it. “The spotlight is a bitch Sydney. I know that, I’m sure you know that damn well now too. It can be… suffocating.”

  “Yes, it is,” she answers quietly.

  “Don’t give up your life for it. You’re strong; you’ve overcome a lot to get here. It’s not worth it to let those bastards destroy you.” I don’t want her to become the hollow shell that I am, used up, thrown out, emotionally ruined.

  Sydney takes a shaky breath, her voice wavering as she speaks. “What if it’s not someone that’s destroying you? What if it’s your own memories?”

  Fuck. She could be talking about me. We’re going through the same shit even if it’s not literally the same. My memories make me turn to alcohol and an Ellie-look alike for comfort, what are Sydney’s memories making her do? She was hung over the other day when she came to my flat. She isn’t turning to the bottle as well, is she?

  “Then you need to be stronger than the past. Embrace it as something that happened. You can’t change it, you can only move on from it. I would know,” I murmur, more to myself than to her.

  When I look back up at her, a single tear is making its way down one freckled cheek. Yeah, I’ve felt that way too, we’re kindred spirits, me and her.

  “Don’t cry, love.” I reach up and wipe away the tear. The despair in her eyes draws me right in, makes me feel like I have to do something to make her pain lessen. I’d do anything to help her.

  My hand is still on the side of her face, gently caressing her cheek. I focus on those glistening eyes and see Ellie there, the desire to comfort nearly overwhelming my senses. I have no fucking clue what possesses me, but I lean in and kiss her, a swirl of emotions confusing the hell out of me as our lips touch.

  Sydney stiffens and jumps out of her chair. “I-I’m sorry, I have to g-go.”

  Shit! Stupid fucking prat!

  “Sydney, I didn’t mean anything. You don’t have to leave. It’s not you. It’s someone else…” I can’t explain to her about Ellie and it’s looking as if she’s not going to let me explain even if I wanted to.

  “I can’t stay Adam. I’ll work on the ideas you gave me.” Her voice is shaky, on the edge of losing it.

  I can’t let our friendship end this way, because I’m a stupid bastard who let his own misplaced feelings fuck everything up. I grab her arms, holding her in place in front of me. “Look at me.” She won’t meet my insistent stare. “Sydney please!”

  She finally gives in and raises her eyes to mine, her lashes wet with tears. Jesus, I’m such a selfish asshole.

  “I’m sorry. It was just the moment Sydney, trying to comfort you. I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s, it’s all me, Syd. Some shite I’ve been dealing with back home…” My fucked up heart attempting to hijack my feelings for Ellie and substitute you in her place.

  Sydney nods quickly, “I understand Adam. Please let me leave now.” Having no choice, I release her from my hold. She immediately grabs her bag and bolts for the door. “Thank you for dinner. I’ll call you when I’ve finished the designs.”

  “Useless fucking bastard!” I curse myself under my breath, dragging my hands through my hair.

  The door shuts behind her and I want a drink so badly that my mouth is watering and my hands are shaking. I shove them in my pockets just so I don’t have to look at them twitch. This is the first time in my life I’ve actually wished I smoked. I laugh cynically, the reality of what I did sinking in. I’ve probably ruined one of the only real relationships I have left in my life.

  What a goddamn disaster I am.

  I throw down some money and figure I’ll talk to Prescott later. He’ll understand. Dodging Lucy is difficult, but I manage to outsmart her by going out through the kitchen.

  A passing cab slows when I raise my hand. “Sixth Ave. and Spring, please.” I jump in and tell the driver distractedly.

  God, I really fucked up this time. I’m contemplating stopping at a liquor store on the way home when my mobile rings. I don’t recognize the number, but it’s a U.K. code, so I decide to pick up.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello?” the female voice responds.

  “You rung me love, so what is it you wanted?” The cab stop
s in front of my building. I hand him some cash and hop out, waving to the concierge as I pass him in the lobby.

  “Is this Adam?”

  “Who’s this?” I ask cautiously. It’s been a while since anyone managed to get my private mobile number. I’d really hate to have to change it again.

  “My name is Gemma Spencer and my best friend is someone you know. Her name is Ellie Palmer. So… is this Adam?”

  My mouth goes dry and my heart starts pounding beneath my shirt. A friend of Ellie’s? No one in the press has ever managed to dig up Ellie’s name, but I’m still hesitant to believe this random stranger.

  “How do I know that you’re telling me the truth?” I input the code to my flat and shove my way inside. Exhausted, I collapse onto the large leather sofa and put my elbows on my knees to help hold my head up as I speak.

  “Well, I know that you used to date, that she was supposed to go with you to California, but lied when her dad died. I know that you met her in a hotel room three years ago and think that she blew you off afterwards.”

  “Wait…” I interrupt, my palms sweaty from the adrenaline rush I’m experiencing and my stomach queasy with nerves. “I think she blew me off? No, I’m sorry, I received a text from her telling me to fuck off. That’s not a supposed dismissal, that’s an actual dismissal.” I wipe my sweaty hand on my jeans and switch the phone to my other ear. “How do you know Ellie anyway?” I’m not sure that I should be speaking to this woman, let alone giving up personal information, but she knows an awful lot to be a fake.

  “I work with Ellie. We’re both nurses. And she never sent you a text, her phone was destroyed the day after she saw you at the hotel.”

  Jesus, she’s for real. No one, and I mean no one knows this much about her, not even my band mates. She’s wrong about the text but I’ll worry about that later.

  “Why are you calling me?” I put my feet up and lie back on the sofa, completely overwhelmed by this unexpected conversation.

  “Because Ellie’s been trying to reach you for ages. She can’t seem to get a message through to you. She’s emailed, called, and even written your record label with no response. Unless… unless you got them and don’t want to speak to her,” Gemma says cautiously.