by Tammy Coons
“Call him,” Cheyenne said, taking a seat and lighting a cigarette.
“Brilliant idea.” Phillip snatched the phone and began dialing. He listened and hung up.
“It’s busy,” he told no one in particular.
“Oh, that’s right. He told us to meet him here because he had a few phone calls to make. I guess you’ll have to wait.” Cheyenne flipped her hair with a smirk.
“Maybe we’ll have security haul your asses out of here,” Phillip mocked her.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” Steph apparently found her voice and Catholicism at the same moment. The entire group looked startled. “Ian didn’t tell you we were coming?”
“Who the hell are you?” Phillip demanded, looking down at her. She remained on the terrace and he was blocking her entrance into the room.
“Stephanie Brier?” Nathan exclaimed, his eyes wide. Realization appeared to crash down upon him like a tidal wave. “Holy shit! I am such a fan.”
The entire room of people turned to Nathan curiously.
“Photography is a passion of mine. I am so honored to meet you. Nathan continued as he crossed to Steph, nearly knocking Phillip off his feet as he brushed past him. Nathan took Steph’s hand in both of his.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Phillip looked at Nathan as if he were a traitor.
“And you,” Nathan scowled. “You broke her lovely camera.”
“So if you are who you say you are—where are your press passes?” Bret asked. His face morphed as if he’d been struck by a brilliant idea. Bret typed wildly on his phone. He stopped for a moment and looked at the group, holding his phone out to them.
“She’s telling the truth,” he announced. As Cheyenne suspected, he’d googled Steph. Phillip snatched Bret’s phone and began reading the information.
“You dated Kevin Wiley?” Phillip asked incredulously. Steph’s face was on fire. Cheyenne thought for a moment that Steph might have a stroke.
A knock at the door broke the tension of the moment. David opened it and two hotel security guards entered, followed by Ian.
“What seems to be the problem?” Ian asked, looking around the room and finally zoning in on Goddess. “What happened here?”
“She fainted,” Cheyenne offered.
“Why is security here?” Ian asked, still confused.
“Your children still don’t want to talk to strangers,” Steph replied, as she stormed past him out of the suite.
Ian looked at Goddess, then at Cheyenne, and then at the band. Cheyenne watched as he deduced the events of the past few moments. “I’m sorry, there has been a terrible misunderstanding,” Ian informed the security guards.
The guards looked to the band for confirmation. When Bret and David nodded at them, they walked out chuckling.
Ian shut the door after them. Goddess sat up and looked around, her expression blank.
“So you actually know these people?” Phillip asked.
“These people, Phillip, will promote the American tour. They will be traveling with you for the foreseeable future, so I suggest you behave yourself.” Ian crossed the room to where Goddess sat. As he attempted to help her to her feet, Cheyenne suppressed a giggle. She gave him an A for his efforts.
“Why didn’t you tell us they would be here today?” Scot appeared embarrassed.
“Look, you guys wanted this,” Ian snapped.” I went to The Sound Wave. They’re here now so let’s get this story over with.”
“Phillip had a temper tantrum and tossed Stephanie’s camera,” Nathan tattled.
“Phillip?” Ian fumed, his dashing face clouding over. Cheyenne felt like she was watching a tennis match.
“I thought they were paparazzi,” Phillip blushed.
“I suggest you get used to the attention,” Ian seethed, as he stormed toward the door.
“But—” Phillip began. Cheyenne interrupted him.
“When you gentlemen decide you’re ready to be interviewed, give us a call,” she said icily. “Goddess? Shall we?”
“Cheyenne—” Ian began, as she made her way past him.
“You have my number, Ian,” Cheyenne said coolly. She opened the door and stormed out, Goddess trailing behind her.
As the elevator doors closed, Cheyenne heard raised voices coming from the suite.
Back in their room, Steph pouted by the window, her arms crossed. She’d returned to the room a few minutes after Goddess and Cheyenne with her sim card, which she claimed was all that was worth salvaging from her camera. For the following hour, Steph and Goddess worked on the limited photos they had managed to take of the band between the concert and the morning’s altercation. The next thirty minutes had been spent Googling camera shops in London. At present, Cheyenne paced back and forth, second guessing her comments to the band and Ian and Goddess was sprawled out on the floor, watching television. Everyone had been silent for a long time.
“I am going to go for a swim. I need a break from this debacle,” Steph blurted. She disappeared into the bathroom with her suitcase.
“Whatever,” Cheyenne mumbled.
Steph reappeared a few moments later wearing a swimsuit cover-up and carrying a beach bag. Without a word, she walked out the door and slammed it shut behind her.
“This has been the worst day.” Goddess gobbled down the last of her candy bar. “I’m so depressed. I can’t believe I passed out. Life sucks!”
“I think you had better learn to contain yourself, Goddess,” Cheyenne informed her. “You could blow this whole thing and I don’t think Mr. Brier would take kindly to that.”
Goddess looked away. Her pink and blue hair was matted on one side from lying on the floor. She finally looked up.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was meek, “It’s just that I have never met anyone this famous before.” She stood, towering over Cheyenne.
“I understand, but if you are going to work in this business you’d better get used to it. You can’t behave like a groupie or you’ll get no respect.”
“Ok.” She looked like a small child who was being scolded.
“You’ll be fine. Just remember why you’re here.” Cheyenne patted Goddess’s shoulder. “Now if only we could get started on this damn article—”
A knock interrupted her thoughts. Cheyenne answered it and her eyes flew wide. Phillip stood before her holding a gift box and flowers. Duncan (Goddess’ roadie from the night before) and another crew member stood flanked him.
“Is Miss Brier here?” Phillip looked past her.
“No. She went to the pool. What’s with security? Afraid she’ll go all Kung Fu on you?” she responded, not missing a beat.
Phillip looked at the floor then back up at Cheyenne.
“Ian asked me to invite all of you to tea this afternoon at four,” he started, appearing to be choosing his words with care.
“Ok.” Cheyenne folded her arms.
“Ian wants to talk to you and get a schedule set up. We’re scheduled for a lot of press conferences and radio interviews. Then there are the sounds checks, and of course the shows. We’ll have to work around all of that.”
“I think I’ll go talk to him now,” Cheyenne said. She turned to grab her laptop and cell. They both headed down the hall and rode the elevator in silence. She felt claustrophobic, what with Phillip, the hulking roadies, and the obnoxious smell of the bouquet. She turned to steal a glance at Duncan and he flashed his gold smile. Disgusted, she quickly looked away. When the doors opened, Cheyenne hurried off. She stopped in her tracks and turned back to Phillip.
“See you at four. And Phillip? A little friendly advice?”
“What?” She could hear caution in his voice.
“Ditch security and ditch the flowers. The sentiment will be lost on Stephanie.” She waved to Phillip as the doors closed.
She knocked on Ian’s door and waited for what seemed like eternity, shifting impatiently from one foot to another. She raised her hand to knock again when Ian finally opened the doo
r; she hurried in.
“I just want to say that this morning was ridiculous,” Cheyenne started.
“I know. I’m sorry. Here, I wanted to give these to you.” Ian handed her three press passes. “Do you have a schedule sat up yet for the interviews?”
Cheyenne looked at him as if he were an imbecile. “No, Ian, I don’t. That’s why I’m here.”
“Did Phillip tell you about tea today?”
“Yes he did.” Cheyenne seated herself on the sofa. “I want to schedule one on one time with each band member. I’d like to get as many interviews done as soon as possible. And Goddess… well, I had a talk with her about her behavior.”
“Good. It would be bad if Mr. Brier found out about that,” Ian mused, as he took a seat across from her. He sipped his drink. “Care for a whiskey?”
“No thanks. I can promise you—Goddess will not behave like that again.” Cheyenne stood. His casual threat to Goddess’s job struck a chord with Cheyenne.
“As long as we are on the same page.”
Cheyenne’s blood boiled. She absolutely despised him. His nonchalant attitude and carefully crafted statements seemed to imply that she and her coworkers were the cause of the most recent turn of events.
“Don’t be late; tea is at four.” Ian stood and turned away from her.
“We’ll be there. Just make sure everyone knows we are coming this time.”
Cheyenne shut the door and hurried down the hall, wanting to place as much distance between herself and Fury’s manager as she could.
The cool water enveloped Steph as she dove in and swam the length of the pool. As she surfaced, she smiled. Moving her limbs through the water felt so delightful and soothed her boiling blood. Having the pool to herself, she swam a couple of laps, cherishing the privacy. She stopped at the side and rested her head on her arms; her eyes closed. She felt briefly refreshed and calm. Part of her was aware she should be out shopping for a new camera, but the rest of her was pleasantly in denial. Steph cursed Phillip silently. That camera had been an extension of her for years. She fumed; he was idiotic and his arrogance made her think of Kevin. Her thoughts drifted to her ex and the last phone conversation they’d had. She missed having a man in her life, though she would never admit it to him or speak of it to Cheyenne. Loathing herself for thinking of him at all, her pride took over and empowered her to thrust Kevin from her mind.
“Excuse me,” a voice drifted down from above her.
Apprehension gripped Steph as she opened her eyes to see Phillip looming above her. Her anger reappeared and she pushed off the side and swam away.
He heaved a dramatic sigh, his blue eyes looking up at the glass ceiling.
“I understand you’re angry,” Phillip began, as if reciting a speech someone had prepared for him.
“Do you?” Steph scowled, tilting her head to the side slightly.
“The other guys wanted me to give this to you.” He held out a box.
With reluctance, Stephanie got out of the pool on the side farthest from him and snatched her towel. Painfully aware of how revealing her attire was, she felt his eyes on her and looked over her shoulder. Phillip glanced around the pool area with an unconcerned look on his face. She continued around the pool toward him, drying off. Approaching him cautiously, she was struck by his hulking physique and felt slightly bothered being alone with him. He thrust the box at her. When she opened it, she was delighted to see a camera virtually identical to her own. A newer model, it had all the bells and whistles including some excellent new features she’d recently read about. She looked from the camera to Phillip, gratitude on the tip of her tongue.
“So, are we good? Can we put this ugly incident behind us?” His casual attitude about her passion perturbed her.
“Do you have any idea how long it takes to adjust to using a new camera?”
So much for gratitude, she thought. He clearly didn’t feel remorseful whatsoever. She heard her father’s voice in her mind suddenly, scolding her for acting spoiled and ungrateful.
“Actually, yes. Nathan told me. He picked this one out.” Phillip’s tone seemed nonchalant.
Steph eyed the camera; admittedly, it was actually better than hers.
“You should really learn to control that violent temper, Phillip.” Steph wrapped her towel around her. She could feel Phillip’s eyes on her exposed flesh and it made her agitated.
“What the hell would you have done if you were me? Invited strangers in?” Phillip retorted.
“I wouldn’t have broken your microphone.” Steph felt like an idiot as soon as the statement crossed her lips. She fumbled with what to say next. “I’m a little more mature than that.”
“Are you?” Phillip crossed his bulging arms. His eyes twinkled condescendingly.
“I am.” Steph raised her chin proudly. “I don’t know who you think you are.”
She turned to flee before she could make more of an ass of herself. The conversation was preposterous.
“I, my dear, am your paycheck.” She turned back to Phillip, who had a sarcastic smirk painted on his face.
Steph saw red and her eyes narrowed. Without a second thought, she pushed Phillip into the pool.
When he surfaced she realized she was holding her breath, but her blood was still boiling.
“Tell Nathan thanks for the camera,” she fumed, then waved her middle finger at him in salute.
“You certainly are mature,” Phillip sputtered.
Steph shook her head and kept walking without a backward glance.
“Do we have to have tea with them?” Stephanie asked Cheyenne, who primped in the mirror. She sat on the bed fiddling with her new camera. She’d been quite tight lipped with Cheyenne about her encounter with Phillip.
“Are you ready?” Cheyenne asked, purposely ignoring her question.
“Yes,” Steph mumbled, standing. “Where’s Goddess?”
As if on cue, Goddess appeared in the doorway.
“I can’t believe we are going to eat with Fury!” she squealed.
Steph shot Cheyenne a disbelieving look.
“Seriously?” Steph cocked her head to the side.
“Remember what I told you,” Cheyenne whispered to Goddess.
Goddess saluted her. “You don’t have to worry about me Cheyenne.”
“Worry about what?” Steph asked.
“Nothing.” Cheyenne grabbed her laptop and purse. “I forgot to tell you both. Ian gave us our press passes.”
“’Bout time. He’s probably kissing up.” Steph took her pass. Goddess chuckled.
When they arrived at the conference room the table was set with an elaborate tea service. Ian and Scot sat at the bar where David and Bret were pouring Bloody Mary’s.
“Hello,” Ian said in a gracious manner. “Welcome.”
Steph pulled out her camera and began taking a few shots.
Scot flashed a dazzling smile at Cheyenne. Then he looked past her toward Goddess.
“Are you going to behave yourself?” His tone was lighthearted.
Goddess nodded, blushing.
“That’ll be the day,” Steph commented under her breath and Cheyenne elbowed her in the side.
Phillip and Nathan walked into the room. Nathan waved with a crooked smile. Phillip looked around awkwardly.
“Everyone is here…let’s eat!” Bret proclaimed, and began piling a plate full of food.
“Can I get any of you a drink?” Ian maneuvered behind the bar.
Cheyenne nodded and pointed at the vodka.
“I’m sorry for the misunderstanding earlier,” Ian began.
“I really should have known the way the blokes were going to react. I guess I like to believe their behavior will improve with age.”
Cheyenne grinned, a look of understanding plastered on her face. “Apology accepted Ian. Considering your policy on publicity, it’s understandable.” Her dark eyes met his. Cheyenne didn’t like Ian much, but they understood each other. They both were shrewd bus
iness folk.
“I’d like to think of this tea as a fresh start.” Ian handed Cheyenne her drink.
She took a sip.
“Agreed.”
“Stephanie!” Nathan called, making Steph lower her camera. He motioned for her to join him by the fireplace. Across from him was Phillip, staring at the empty hearth. Steph joined them.
“Do you like the camera?” Nathan asked, making room for her to sit next to him. Steph sat, now face to face with Phillip, and felt uneasy and foolish.
“It’s perfect, Mr. Clayton.”
“Please do me the honor of calling me Nathan. I cannot believe I am having tea with Stephanie Brier. This is a real treat.” Nathan grinned.
“Likewise.” Steph realized Nathan was being genuine. “We had a great time at the concert last night.”
Nathan continued to shower her with compliments and picked her brain about different photographic techniques. She looked over at Phillip who was now staring back at her thoughtfully. Surprising herself, she felt a blush spread over her face.
“So when can we begin the interviews?” Cheyenne asked when there was a lull in conversation.
“Probing little thing aren’t you?” Phillip headed for the bar.
“That’s my job,” Cheyenne retorted. She and Steph locked eyes. Cheyenne’s face said it all; Another temperamental artist, the world was full of them.
“It would probably be best if we waited until after we get settled in Paris. We have a couple of days of downtime,” Ian offered, shooting Phillip a disapproving look. “That will give the little brats the naptime they need.”
“Hey!” Bret feigned disbelief. “I’m always well behaved.”
“Me too,” Nathan replied, raising a naughty eyebrow at Cheyenne.
“Liar,” Scot uttered a disbelieving chuckle aimed at Nathan. “I seem to remember a few incidents...”
“Shhh.” Nathan winked at Cheyenne. “Don’t soil my reputation with The Sound Wave.”
Steph and Cheyenne laughed.
“I would be glad to go first. You could interview me on the plane to France.” Scot appeared next to Cheyenne.
