by M. S. Parker
Fortunately, I’d gotten ahold of Candra Hammel, a college classmate of mine who now ran a community program where kids could go both after school and on the weekends. While, most of the time, they had the usual games and such, sometimes they brought in people to offer specialized classes or workshops. Today, they were getting rock star Reb Union to teach music to the kids.
I just hoped I’d made the right call. If he showed up drunk or behaved like an ass, I’d be lucky to not get fired. Reb wasn’t the only one putting things on the line today.
“Candra.” I smiled at the woman standing by the front door. She looked just as polished and professional as ever. “It’s good to see you again.”
“You too,” she said as she gave me a hug. “It looks like all that hard work you put in is paying off. Representing Reb Union.” She let out a low whistle, her turquoise eyes sparkling. “I know a lot of women who’d give their right arm to get that close to him.”
I didn’t have to ask if she was one of them. Candra had been an out and proud lesbian since well before I knew her. She’d appreciate Reb’s beauty the same way I appreciated hers, but it wouldn’t be an issue. That wasn’t the main reason I’d gone to her, but it was definitely a bonus.
“He’s my first client,” I admitted. “The first one I have by myself, anyway. I have to get it right.”
Candra nodded. “At least you’ve got a good guy to work with.”
“You know him?” I was pleased to hear that I didn’t sound as surprised as I actually was. I didn’t want her getting the wrong idea, because I wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t her type. And even if he was, it wouldn’t have mattered because he wasn’t my type.
“Only by reputation. He has a good one.” She frowned, and her gaze drifted away from mine. “At least he did until recently. His break-up appeared to have really hit him hard. It’s good that she’s gone though. Mitzi was clearly using him.”
I stared at her. Candra hadn’t been as much of a workaholic as me, but she’d always been focused. The attention to the entertainment industry was new.
She laughed at the expression on my face. “My girlfriend works at Entertainment Weekly.”
“So, you know that I–”
“Leaked that Reb would be here today?” She finished. “I figured that’d be the case even before I got Lena’s message.”
“I don’t want you to think I’m using the program. I think it’s amazing what you do for these kids.”
She smiled. “I know. It’s okay. Generally, when celebrities come to something like this, it’s for publicity reasons, and I’d much rather have someone like Reb come in and actually do something other than write a check.”
“I’ll make sure he behaves himself,” I promised. I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage that, but I’d think of something. My ears grew hot as I remembered telling him that I’d make sure he ‘got something’ out of this. I’d come up with something appropriately professional. No way in hell would I give in to the thoughts I knew had accompanied his request for a ‘reward.’ I didn’t want that.
“Speak of the devil,” Candra said, looking past me.
I didn’t need to turn to know he was coming right for us. I could feel him staring and prayed that Candra didn’t read anything into it. The last thing Reb needed was rumors that something was going on between him and his PR rep. I didn’t even want to think what it would do to my reputation.
“I’ve got to get inside,” Candra said. “Two of my usual volunteers called in sick this morning. The kids that get here this early always have far too much energy, and if I don’t give them something constructive to do, I’ll end up cleaning paint off my ceiling.”
The expression on her face said that she hadn’t pulled something that specific out of nowhere. I really hoped Reb was up to this. Maybe scheduling things without talking them through with him wasn’t such a good idea. I’d figured making the decisions on my own would keep him from arguing about them. The longer this dragged out, the harder it was going to be to stop the momentum. He needed to do something as soon as possible to show that he was trying to change his image.
Reb stopped next to me as Candra hurried off. “Did I do something to offend her?” he asked.
I shook my head as I turned toward him. “She’s a bit understaffed this morning.” I glanced down to see that he’d brought a guitar with him like I’d asked. “Thanks for bringing that.”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve played an acoustic guitar with nothing else backing me up.”
I gave him a sharp look, but he wasn’t complaining like I’d thought. He almost looked excited by the idea. “The kids who come here are pretty much all from this neighborhood. Mostly good families, but ones that don’t have the money or time to send their kids to lessons. It’s not gangs or drugs that are the biggest danger here, but rather the inability to do anything else.”
He looked around, a thoughtful expression on his face.
“Some will be talented enough to become electricians or mechanics, and they’ll do well. They’ll be the success stories. But the kids who might’ve become doctors, lawyers, teachers, counselors – the sort of occupations that need a college degree – they’ll find themselves working in stores or on construction crews. They’ll never have the chance to reach their full potential. Maybe some will be able to get into college, get some small scholarships, but they won’t be able to afford to go.”
I remembered when I first realized what it meant that I was going to college. Mom had always made it clear to me that I either had to learn a trade or pursue a degree. Both were equally valuable, but I was expected to excel in whatever path I chose to pursue.
I had pushed myself academically, even doubling up on credits so I could graduate a year early. I’d earned several scholarships, but if it hadn’t been for my mother’s determination that I get to do what I wanted, I wouldn’t have made it. For as long as I could remember, she’d worked two jobs, gone without so many things, all so she could make sure I didn’t need to work. It was thanks to her I’d been able to accept an unpaid internship my senior year, and I’d felt like all the hard work had paid off when I’d gotten hired as a paid employee.
Any time I’d gotten tired and considered quitting, I’d think about my mom and how, some nights, she’d fallen asleep on the couch, half-way through her dinner.
“Paige?”
I gave myself a mental shake and smiled at Reb. I hadn’t asked him if working with kids was okay, and now I wondered if he’d even be able to relate or if I’d set us up to fail.
“Candra wants you to play a couple songs, then work on teaching the kids about music. Once we see how things go, she’ll probably have you repeat things every few hours so kids who come in later will get the same chance.”
“All right,” he agreed. “Let’s get started.”
I watched him as he walked toward the double doors. He didn’t look drunk, despite being a little rough around the edges. I hoped that meant he was going to listen to me when I told him what to do. He didn’t give me the impression that he was a man who was accustomed to taking orders, much less obeying them. In fact, something about the way he carried himself made me think that not many people bossed him around, not without repercussions of some kind.
Something low in me throbbed at the thoughts of rewards and punishment, but I didn’t let it linger. We had work to do.
Any doubts I had about how he’d do with kids vanished the moment we stepped inside the community center.
“Holy shit!” A boy who looked to be about ten or so shouted as soon as he saw Reb. “That’s Reb Union! He’s a total badass!”
“Tyler!” Candra scolded him. “What have we said about language?”
He gave her the sort of charming grin that I bet he used on most authority figures to get away with things. “That the study of the English language is fucking important?”
“Tyler!” She was trying to stay firm, but I could tell she was trying not to laugh. “Mind yo
ur manners.”
He bounced up and down on his toes, but stayed where he was, and didn’t shout again.
“Kids,” Candra addressed the whole group. “Mr. Union is our special guest today. He’s going to be playing some songs for you, and then he’s going to teach you a bit about music.” She gave Tyler a stern look. “Which means, I expect all of you to be on your best behavior. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Ms. Hammel,” the whole group chorused.
Candra turned to Reb. “Think you can take it from here?”
He swallowed hard, and I wondered if anyone else could tell that he was nervous. “I can. Thank you.”
He smiled and led the kids over to a place at the other end of the building where a stage was set up. He sat down, taking out his guitar as the kids pulled chairs into a half-circle. I leaned back against the wall to watch.
Because I needed to make sure this worked.
Not because I wanted to watch him.
“All right,” he said as he settled his guitar on his lap. “I’m guessing at least one of you knows some of my music. Do I have a request?”
“‘Under the Waves,’” Tyler immediately spoke up. “That’s my favorite song.”
Reb nodded, plucking at a few strings. “That’s one of my favorites too.” His gaze flicked to me. “One of the first songs I ever wrote but fits my life now more than ever.”
I ignored the warmth that spread through me at his look. It didn’t mean anything.
Still, as he began to sing, I couldn’t help but think about what it would be like to have someone like him singing to me. The lyrics of the song weren’t romantic, but I still felt them. He meant every word, and that had nothing to do with trying to look professional.
“He’s amazing.”
I glanced over at Candra as she came to stand next to me. I didn’t want to agree with her, but there was no way around it. She was right.
“The kids seem to like him,” I said, hating myself for how non-committal it sounded.
“They do.”
Reb finished up the song, and another kid piped up with a suggestion. They came, one right after the other, and he kept playing. He didn’t complain, not even when one quiet looking girl shyly requested a song that was definitely not one of Reb’s. Instead, he gave the kids a silly grin and began playing the cute, bouncy pop song.
After a couple hours, Candra pushed herself off the wall and interrupted, “Who’s ready for their mid-morning snack?”
A chorus of cheers answered the question. Three kids hung back as the others rushed to the window where fruit and bottled water waited. One was Tyler, the boy who’d been scolded for his language, and he was hanging on Reb’s every word. Another was the girl who’d asked for the pop song, and she looked like she was torn between wanting to talk to him and wanting to disappear. The third was a small, skinny boy who was trying to hide behind Tyler.
Curious to see how Reb would handle his little admirers, I waited and watched.
“Are you going to teach us how to play the guitar?” Tyler asked. “I’d be awesome.”
“I bet you would,” Reb said. He clapped a hand on Tyler’s shoulder, then looked at the other two. “Hi.”
The girl’s cheeks flushed, and she ducked her head. “Hi.”
“She’s Mags,” Tyler said. He smacked the other boy on the shoulder. “He’s Larry.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Had he seriously just said nice to meet you to three kids who hadn’t quite hit puberty? And now he was talking to them like he was their friend. Joking with them. Asking them questions about school and the things they liked to do. He told Larry to be proud of his photographic memory. Told Mags that she should just be herself. He sat with the kids as they ate their snacks and there wasn’t a single trace of insincerity in anything he said.
Was it possible that this was who Reb really was? That he was a decent guy who loved kids? That the alcohol and bad decision making was a fluke?
No. I made myself look away, ignore what I was seeing. I couldn’t afford to think that he was different. One morning spent with kids didn’t make him a good guy.
I needed to remember that, and everything would be fine.
Thirteen
Reb
I hadn’t been dreading the community service itself – being sober again wasn’t that great – but I hadn’t expected to enjoy myself. I’d been looking forward to seeing Paige, even though I knew she was off limits, but when I walked into that community center and Tyler had yelled my name…I hadn’t felt anything like that in a long time.
As I followed Tyler, Mags, and Larry over to where the rest of the kids were sitting, I realized that I was having fun. I’d loved performing unplugged, singing songs as the kids called them out. Hell, I’d even liked singing that pop song because it’d made Mags smile.
“So, how many of you think you might like to learn how to read and write music?” I asked.
Hands shot up, and I immediately started thinking of all the ways to best teach them how to read music. I’d never thought of myself as a teacher, but in that moment, I could see it. Showing the kids how to love music the way I did.
“Do you write all your own songs?” Tyler asked.
I nodded. “I do.”
“Not all musicians do though, right?” Larry asked.
“Right,” I said. “Sometimes, people are good at playing instruments or singing, and sometimes they’re good at writing music and lyrics, but not always both.”
“But you do both,” Mags said.
I nodded again. “I do.”
I didn’t tell them that it’d been a while since I’d written anything. That the songs I’d sung this morning had been written years and months before. In my opinion, the quality had been going downhill too. The studio had been threatening to send in writers for me, to create an album that would take the charts by storm. Only the fact that I’d had it put into my contract that I had veto power on album content had kept them from doing it. If things were going to suck, I’d own it.
It was one of the reasons Chester had been on my ass. Fucking up my image would’ve been bad enough if I’d had a new album out or one coming out, but that could’ve been spun positively. The fact that they had to keep asking me when I was going to get into the studio and finally record something meant they hadn’t been feeling very friendly toward me when the shit hit the fan.
But that was why I had Paige. She was going to fix all of that.
I forced my mind off of Paige as Candra announced it was time to move into the teaching music part of the morning. It was funny. I’d spent so much time drinking over the past few months because I wanted to forget, to get out of my head, and I hadn’t been able to turn to music like I had in the past. Then I met Paige, and she became another thing I couldn’t get out of my head, no matter how hard I tried.
Until I came here, stone cold sober for the first time since the beginning of summer, and found that I could focus on the music again. Playing it, at least. I still couldn’t find it in me to focus on writing it, but I’d take what I could get.
“All right, listen up!”
Paige’s friend, Candra, clapped her hands and waited until everyone’s attention was on her.
“That’s all for our special guest today.” She held up her hands when several of the kids protested. “Please make sure to thank him for spending time with us, and then it’s time for team sports.”
We were done already? I looked at the clock and was surprised to see that it was nearly three in the afternoon. How had the time flown by so fast?
I didn’t have a chance to think about it too much, however, because the kids were all coming over to say their goodbyes. Unsurprisingly, Tyler, Mags, and Larry all hung back, waiting until the others cleared out before they approached.
“Do you really have to go?” Tyler asked. “You’re the first cool person we’ve ever had here.”
The mutinous look on his face reminded me of my niece, Josie, wh
en my sister would tell her she couldn’t do something. Annette always blamed me for that.
“I think Ms. Hammel has some things planned for you guys to do now,” I said.
“Team sports.” Larry made a face. “No one ever wants us on their team, so we always play together.”
“And we always lose,” Mags added.
I glanced up to see Paige coming toward me, but as much as I wanted to try and get some alone time with her, I wanted to see these kids smile more. “How about if I play on your team?”
Their faces lit up.
“For real?” Mags asked, grabbing my hand.
I nodded. “For real.” I smiled as they cheered. “So, what are we playing?”
“Soccer,” Tyler said. “Come on!”
I followed the kids over to the area where an indoor soccer pitch had been set up, and Paige came after me. “You don’t have to babysit me, you know,” I said as we went.
“Who’s babysitting? I love soccer.”
Before I could strike up a conversation, we heard Tyler arguing with some kids who’d come in only a few minutes ago.
“You aren’t our boss!” He glared up at a bigger kid without a trace of intimidation on his face. “Ms. Hammel says everyone who wants to play can.”
“Well, nobody wants you on their team,” the kid said, his face twisted into the kind of scowl bullies seemed to perfect.
“I do,” I said, raising my hands. “So why don’t Tyler and I have our own team, and we play against you and whoever you want on your team. Sounds like that’ll be fair.”
The kid’s hands curled into fists, and I wondered if all my good work today was going to get thrown away by a kid with a bad temper. I wouldn’t hit him back, obviously, but I had no doubt the media could make it my fault.
“We got Mags and Larry,” Tyler said. “That’s four of us.”
