The tinkle of her light laugh melts my heart, and I don’t think I could wipe the smile off my face if someone held a gun against my head.
Ah, screw it. This. This is what I need. Forget keeping it casual, forget just playing for fun. As crazy as it sounds for only just having met, I want this woman, body and soul.
I want to make her mine.
Chapter 15
Gabriella
A smile creeps across my face as I read his text.
I want you to do that thing you did to me yesterday. And the day before that, and the day before that.
I know exactly what Cole’s referring to, and let’s just say, complying with his request won’t exactly be a hardship for me.
I glance to my side. I’m sitting next to Sylvia in the rehearsal space as we watch the spawn rehearse their upcoming single. I’m here, as I always am, watching, ready to spring into action to do her bidding.
With Sylvia otherwise occupied, I type out a reply.
Don’t distract me. I told you, I’m at work.
I watch the dots flash on the screen.
Spoilsport.
The last few days have been nothing short of magical. Since our first time in Cole’s hotel room, we’ve been spending as much time together as we can. Of course, he’s been rehearsing with Rex, and I’ve had my endless Pop Princess and Sylvia demands to contend with. But when the penthouse is still but for the relentless fog horn snores from Sylvia’s bedroom, I sneak out to be with him. It’s been a whirlwind of fun and laughter, and the sex has been nothing short of mind-blowing.
Sylvia startles me as she leaps out of her seat beside me. “No, no, no! Girls, you’ve forgotten all the things we talked about yesterday.”
In one swift movement, I drop my phone in my lap and pretend like I’ve been hanging on the Pop Princesses’ every choreographed move. I know their dance routines and their songs inside out, having sat through these interminably long sessions too many times to count. Sometimes, I think I know them better than the Pop Princesses themselves.
“Remember what Jacinta said? You need to turn to the left then the right. Otherwise, it looks totally chaotic. And the Pop Princesses are not chaotic. They are the three Ps.” Sylvia looks at her daughters, expectant. When neither of them parrots what her three Ps are—something she likes them to do with sickening monotony—she claps her hands and repeats, “The three Ps, girls.”
“Polished, poised, and professional,” they rabbit with as much enthusiasm as someone on a death march.
“That’s right. Polished, poised, and professional. You are the Pop Princesses, the new darlings of pop. You need to remember that when you’re up there on the stage on Saturday night.”
“But Mom, I’m so tired.” Britney’s shoulders slump.
“Me, too. Can’t we have a break?” Kylie echoes.
Sylvia waves her hand in the air. “Five minutes. Gabriella? Get the girls drinks.”
“Of course.” I swivel my chair to face the spawn, who are now both flopped in chairs like a couple of scantily-clad rag dolls. “What do you want?”
“Coke. Diet.” Britney doesn’t even bother to look at me.
“Cherry Coke,” Kylie says.
“Make it a Diet Coke for her, too,” Sylvia says.
“But, Mom,” Kylie whines.
“You need to be able to fit in your costumes. The concert is only five days away. I don’t want any bulges where they shouldn’t be,” Sylvia says.
“Are you calling me fat?” Kylie retorts.
Britney snorts and Kylie shoots her a warning look.
Sylvia’s sharp features soften. “I’m just trying to keep you beautiful, darling. That’s all.”
Kylie harrumphs as she sucks in her tiny belly and sits rigidly in her seat.
I walk to the door, eager for a break. We’ve been closeted away for days now, rehearsing for the concert, when all I want to do is be with Cole. “Two Diet Cokes coming up.” I slide my phone into my pocket and push my way out into the hallway.
I spend most of my time getting drinks and snacks for Kylie and Britney, but today they could tell me to get ice chips from the Arctic and I wouldn’t care. Today, nothing can bother me, because today Cole is introducing me to Rex Randall.
It’s a freaking huge moment for me. Life changing. At least, I hope.
As I walk down the hallway to the vending machine, I type a new message to Cole.
I’ve managed to escape for two minutes. Are you still with Rex?
His reply is immediate.
Yup. Come now.
I stop in my tracks as a jolt of nervousness wracks me. Now? Although I know the song I plan to perform for Rex inside and out, the enormity of this moment hits me like a freight train. What if I fail? What if he says I have no talent? What if this is all a waste of my time and I should never have left NYU?
I let out a frustrated noise, annoyed with myself. I need to do this. I need to make this work—for me and for Cece. I type my reply.
Give me five minutes.
With speed, I make my way back to the Pop Princesses’ rehearsal room. “There’s a problem with the vending machine, so I’ll go out to get the Cokes.”
Sylvia waves me away with a flick of her wrist before she returns her attention to her daughters.
It’s exactly the response I was hoping for.
I turn on my heel and dash down the hallway toward the rehearsal room Cole told me they were in. Once outside, I press my ear gently up against the cold wooden door. The thud thud thud of music escapes the soundproofing. I recognize the tune as one of Rex’s hits from when I was a kid. After a burst of sound, the room falls silent once more. They must be between songs.
I pull away from the door and take a few deep breaths to try to calm my nerves.
It’s now or never.
I shake my hands out as nausea threatens. I’m so worked up, I fear I’ll freak out and hit the panic button at any moment, sending me into a total spiral. And I do not want that. I remind myself that Rex is my way out, that Rex can give me the career I want. I repeat it over and over in my head, my eyes closed as I take deep breaths.
It does the trick—well, mostly.
With false bravado, I place my hand on the door and push it open. They’ve begun to play a new song; the one Cole’s been playing to me in his hotel room. It has a different tempo to Rex’s usual pop, slower, more soulful—really beautiful.
I slip quietly inside and let the door close behind me, thankful to go unnoticed by the band.
I spot Cole and, despite my nerves, I’m hit by a wave of need, just as I am every time I lay eyes on him. Wearing his favorite combo, jeans and plain white T-shirt—and damn, does he look hot in it—he’s got his guitar over his shoulder, playing, as the drummer taps out a beat and Rex nods along.
Cole hasn’t seen me. I lean up against the back wall and relish the chance to watch him perform. I watch the way his head moves to the music, the way his fingers strum his guitar, the way he looks lost in the song, as he did that night at The Mandolin. Standing next to Rex, he looks like he belongs, like he’s been a part of Rex’s band forever.
Rex wraps a hand around his microphone and begins to sing. His voice is soft but strong, controlled, like the professional he is. It’s odd, hearing a familiar voice live, putting words to music I’ve only heard played on guitar.
I glance at the time on my phone. I’ve been gone from the Pop Princesses for almost ten minutes. I need to get back soon or Sylvia will be angry—and I do not need an angry stepmother. Not today of all days.
There is an instrumental break and Rex turns to Cole, who steps up to a microphone in front of him and begins to sing. I’m confused. I thought he was playing guitar for Rex, not singing. Maybe he’s harmonizing? But as he sings, I know this has to be a duet.
I wanted you before I knew you
You’re the arrow for my bow
His voice is lower than Rex’s but has the same tone, the same pitch, the same fluency.
When Rex joins him in the chorus, their voices mesh perfectly, like they were made to sing with one another.
I’m rooted to the spot, captivated as the music wafts over me. It’s a beautiful, heartfelt song, the lyrics poignant in their simplicity.
You’ve given me new hope
The one I did not know
“Hold it, guys.” Rex raises his hand, and the musicians trickle to a halt. “I think we need to mix up the chord change. Try a G minor,” he says to Cole.
Cole nods, adjusts his fingers on the guitar strings, and strums a few bars of the tune in the new chord. “How’s that?”
Rex nods. “Yeah, that works, don’t you think?” Cole nods. “Okay, guys, from the top.”
Rex’s drummer counts them in, and they launch into the song once more. I slide my back down the wall and sit, cross-legged, listening, my eyes trained on Cole and Rex.
“Who the hell are you?”
I look up to see Too-Smooth-Man-Bun, the guy who came to get Cole the day we met. I push myself off the floor. “Oh, I’m here to see Cole. I’m Gabby Davis.”
Recognition dawns on his face. “That’s right. You’re the girl with the crap all over her from last week.”
Yes, that’s how I want to be known: the girl with the crap all over her. “That’s me. It’s Nashville, right?”
“Look, Gabby, Cole’s busy right now. I’ll let him know you were here, okay?”
I stand my ground. “He’s expecting me.”
“Sure, he is.” He takes me by the arm. His hand is warm and clammy against my skin. “All right, groupie. Let’s go.”
“I told you, I’m here to see Cole. I am not a groupie.” I try to tug my arm away from him, but his grip is too firm. “Let go of me!” I’m not going to let some Jason Momoa wannabe get in my way.
“What’s going on?” Rex says into the microphone from across the room.
The music peters out and all eyes turn to us. Too-Smooth’s fingers are still wrapped around my arm, digging in painfully.
“Gabby?” Cole says.
“Hi,” I manage.
Cole pushes his guitar around so it’s resting against his back and walks toward us. “Nashville, you can let go of her. She’s with me.”
Too-Smooth throws me a disdainful look and releases his grip with obvious reluctance. Maybe he gets off on manhandling Rex’s groupies? I’m sure he’d much prefer the satisfaction of chucking me out on my ear than having me stick around.
I rub the white marks where his fingers dug in as the blood returns to my arm. “Thank you so much,” I say to him. My voice drips with sarcasm.
Cole gives me a hug. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“As I said, she’s with me,” Cole says to Nashville, a harsh note to his voice.
“Sure. I didn’t know.” Nashville puts his hands in the air.
“I think ‘sorry’ might be the word you’re looking for,” Cole continues.
“Yeah. Sorry,” Nashville mutters to me like a berated kid.
I acknowledge his lack-luster apology with a curt nod. “Cole? I don’t have much time before I need to get back.”
“Got it.” He takes my hand in his and leads me over to Rex. My nerves ratchet up a notch or fifty, right on cue.
“Take five, guys,” Rex says to the band as we approach.
“Rex, this is the girl I told you about,” Cole says.
Despite feeling shaken from my encounter with Man Bun, I extend my hand, just as my dad taught me to do when meeting someone new—even if they are a global superstar. “Hi, Mr. Randall. I’m Gabby Davis.”
Rex takes my hand in his. “It’s great to meet you, Gabby. Call me Rex, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Cole here told me you’re a pretty amazing singer. I’m looking forward to being dazzled by you.”
Pressure much?
“And she writes her own music, too,” Cole adds as he gives my hand a squeeze.
His obvious pride in me bolsters my confidence. “I hope I can dazzle you. I’ll do my best, anyway.”
“The floor is yours.” Rex gestures to the microphone he was using only a moment ago. The members of his band having vacated their positions and the performance area is now empty.
Cole gives me an encouraging smile before he and Rex take a seat on some comfortable-looking chairs. As I position myself in front of the microphone, I pull my hair out of its ponytail and ruffle it with my fingers, a mental cue to shake off my glorified minion persona and become Gabby the Singer: confident, in control, ambitious. I close my eyes and picture myself up on a stage in front of an audience, ready to perform.
I try to tap the rhythm on my thigh but am so aware of my trembling fingers that I momentarily lose the beat. After a silent prayer to calm my nerves, I try again. While not perfect, I find my way through the jitters and give myself over to the haunting lyrics of my song, and only fully return to the room when the last word falls from my lips.
Rex, Cole, and the rest of the band applaud. Cole beams at me and I know I’ve done well.
I’ve got to hope it’s enough.
Springing up from his seat, in a few short strides, he’s at my side, collecting me in a congratulatory hug. “That was incredible! Gabby, I’m so proud of you.”
“Gabby, that was great,” Rex says from across the room.
I turn to face him. “Thank you. I’m glad you liked it.”
“Liked it? I loved it! Cole was right. You’ve got a real talent there, something you should foster and grow.”
“That’s the plan,” I reply breathlessly.
“Look, how about I introduce you to someone at the label? I can’t make any promises, of course, but I think they’d be foolish not to at least meet with you.”
I feel a rush of gratitude so strong the room goes blurry. “Seriously?” In my excitement, my voice is about an octave higher than usual.
Rex laughs. “Seriously. I’ll get your details from Cole and we’ll set something up.”
“Thank you so, so much,” I gush. I come within inches of hurtling myself at him as I had Cole that day in Central Park. This time, I manage some restraint.
“No problem. I’ll come back to you before we go to Boston next week. Now, unfortunately, I had better get back to it. Big concert this weekend.”
“I know. Good luck with it,” I say.
“I’ll see Gabby out,” Cole says.
Once outside, and with the door closed behind us, I wrap my arms around Cole and kiss him. “You are the best, you know that?”
“If I get this reaction every time I introduce you to a pop star, I’m gonna keep doing it.”
“Do you know a lot of pop stars?”
“No.”
“Well, then, enjoy it while you’ve got it, Tennessee.”
“I plan on it.” He kisses me again, and it’s so sexy, so full of want, I swear I could forget my name.
“See you in the morning?”
“As soon as I can get away from my step—” As I realize my mistake, I cut off before I finish the word.
I know it’s too late when Cole furrows his brow in confusion. “Your step?”
I chew on my lip, torn between opening up and telling him about my home situation (least preferred option), and pretending I’d simply used the wrong word (definitely preferred option). But as I look up into his face, the sincerity in his eyes, and knowing he just gave me the biggest break of my fledgling music career, I make a call.
“My stepmom. Cece and I have a stepmom.”
“That’s good?” he questions. I shake my head. “Oh.”
“It’s Sylvia.”
“Sylvia, the bitch on wheels band manager? She’s your stepmom?”
“Yup. And the Pop Princesses, Britney and Kylie, are my stepmonsters, otherwise known as stepsisters.”
“Huh. I did not pick that. But, they’re horrible to you.”
“You don’t know the half of it. Sylvia’s not exactly a fan—of me or of Cece.
We were the part of the deal she didn’t relish when she married my dad. And now that we are effectively on our own, I need to take care of Cece. I’m all she’s got. I need to get her away from Sylvia’s clutches.”
Realization dawns on his face. “That’s why this audition was so important to you.”
I nod as the weight of that phone call Rex has promised to make settles heavily on my shoulders. “Well, it’s a strong motivator. That and the fact that I want my own career in music. So, now that you know my deepest, darkest secret, do you still want to hang out with me?” I try to keep the note of desperation from my voice.
Cole snakes his arms around my middle and kisses me on the mouth. “More than ever.”
“I had hoped you’d say that. But, I really have to get back to them, and you need to get back to Rex. I don’t want to blow your chances with him.”
“Go.”
I take a step away from him, then turn back. “And Cole? Thank you. This could change my life.”
“I hope it does. For your sake, and for Cece’s.”
I dash down the hallway as quickly as I can. I’ve been away from the Pop Princesses for far too long, and I need to grab the sodas and get back a-sap. But I know, even if Sylvia comes down on me like a ton of Botoxed bricks, nothing can stop this feeling, nothing can get me down from this high. I’ve just gotten my big break, and I have to believe the right words in the right ears from Rex will change my life.
And not only that, Cole has glimpsed the part of me I’ve been too ashamed to share, and he hasn’t run for the hills.
Perhaps fairytales really can come true?
Chapter 16
Cole
It’s early when Gabby greets me with a kiss, and I’m hit by that feeling I get every time I see her—the one where her sheer beauty gets me right in the chest and I’ve got to remind myself to breathe.
“Good morning, Tennessee.” She wraps her arms around me as I close the hotel room door behind me with my foot.
I haven’t seen Gabby since she auditioned for Rex yesterday, and I know she’s eager to hear my news. “Rex loved you, you totally nailed that audition.”
Manhattan Cinderella Page 17
