Turn up the Tempo (Lyrical Odyssey Rock Star Series Book 4)

by Charli B. Rose

  “Filming for your show tonight?” I asked, tipping my head in the camera’s direction.

  “No particular agenda tonight. Just getting filler material for the upcoming season. But I can tell him to get lost. You remember when we ditched him a few months ago? Man, that night was amazing. I still think about it when I’m by myself now.” She squeezed my arm as her other hand dropped under the table to caress my leg.

  “I never did thank you for the photo-op our last outing provided for the band. So, thanks.” I took a swallow of my beer as her hand moved to my inner thigh.

  When I met her gaze, her eyes were hooded and filled with lust. “I know a way you can thank me.” Her fingers slipped higher, and her tongue darted out to lick her lips.

  I didn’t respond immediately, choosing to remain silent and still.

  “We could go back to my place and have some fun.” She fluttered her lashes up at me. We’d always gone to her place or a hotel.

  I really wanted to get out of my head, so I seriously considered the possibility for a bit. Her fingers were resting on my dick. It didn’t even twitch beneath the weight of her hand. Even if I did want to escape all the crap that was pressing down on me—the worries about my mom, the obstacles with the song I was trying to compose, my conflicting feelings over wanting Brittany so desperately, my unchecked anger with Wilder, everything—a night with Giselle under me wasn’t going to give me the escape I needed.

  I reached under the table and latched onto her wrist. Lifting her hand to my lips, I pressed a kiss to her palm. Not wanting to embarrass her with a rejection on camera, I leaned in and whispered in her ear, “I don’t think so. I wouldn’t make for good company tonight. That’s a sure thing. Sorry.”

  I pulled out my wallet and threw down some bills on the table to cover my bill. With my hand on Giselle’s hip, I eased her out of the booth and to her feet. I stood up behind her. She gave me a sad pout then kissed me on the cheek.

  Without another word, I walked out. As I drove home, I prayed Wilder wasn’t back at our place with Britt. In my current state of mind, I wasn’t sure how I’d react to that sight.

  Chapter 9

  Britt

  Excited when I woke up, I left early carrying a duffel bag filled with dance clothes inside. The Uber driver dropped me off in front of Gravity Dance Complex with time to spare. When I walked inside, I stood there in awe. Dancers milled around the building. They all seemed to know where they were going. Since I didn’t, I made my way to the receptionist.

  “Hi. I’m Brittany. I’m supposed to meet with Dub about a dance video.” I nervously fiddled with the strap of my bag.

  The pretty, dark-haired woman consulted her computer screen. “They’re in studio two, which is down that hall, third door on the left.” She pointed in the direction I needed to go.

  Squaring my shoulders, I moved in the direction she indicated. When I stepped inside, I found Dub waiting with a few other people.

  “Brittany, it’s so good to see you,” Dub greeted when I made my way to the front of the room. “Let me introduce you to everyone else. This is Will, one of my lead choreographers.”

  A handsome guy with dirty blond hair and a brilliant smile offered his hand to me. “Nice to meet you.”

  “And this is Rico,” Dub said, sweeping his arm wide to indicate the man with dark hair and dark eyes. “He’s the guy whose video I think you’ll be perfect for.”

  The shorter man stepped forward. Instead of shaking my hand, he kissed the back of it. “Good to meet you, bella.”

  “You’re a charmer I see,” I teased, pulling my hand back.

  He laughed good naturedly. “I can’t wait to see your moves.”

  The last guy stepped forward. He oozed swagger. His lip tipped up in a smirk. “And I’m Tyler. One of your potential dance partners for the video.”

  I shook his hand.

  “It’s nice to meet all of you.” I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Am I dressed OK for what you need? I brought other options.” I was in a long, flowing, wrap-around skirt with a halter top. It looked kind of Spanish, so I thought it would fit with what little I knew about the song.

  “It’s perfect,” Rico said before Dub could answer. “Have you ever heard the old song ‘Come a Little Bit Closer’ by Jay and the Americans?”

  ♪ Come a Little Bit Closer by Jay and the Americans

  “I’m not sure. I’m not good at remembering song titles,” I said honestly.

  “It came out in the sixties. My great grandfather worked with the band. He’s turning eighty this year, so I’m covering his favorite song of theirs and releasing the song in his honor. Let me play you the original, so you can hear the story in English.”

  Dub indicated an empty seat for me to sit in while Rico cued up the music. Some cross between Carolina beach music and doo wop came from the speakers in the corner of the room. As I listened to the story being told by the lyrics, an image of a seductive, desirable woman toying with a man’s emotions entered my mind. The woman in the song was taken by a cruel man, but she became smitten by a stranger. I began to imagine how she would move, how she’d smile, how she’d dance.

  My shoulders started to subtly sway as my feet shuffled slightly against the floor. I needed to dance.

  Once the song ended, Rico turned to me. “So, my new take on the song uses the same melody with more bass and a slightly faster tempo. The story is very much the same. I rap the verses and sing the chorus. And I added a third verse. Much of the song will be in Spanish.”

  “And what’s the story of the new verse?” I asked, curious to see if the new version of the song would have a happy ending.

  “The stranger returns later and whisks the woman who stole his heart away, saving her from her cruel husband. My grandmother always complained about the ending of the song and how it left the beautiful woman with the bad man. I thought it would be a nice treat to give her romantic heart the happy ending she wanted.” Rico blushed as he explained.

  “I think that’s awesome. So, will you be appearing in the video? I mean do you dance or just sing?” I asked.

  “You’re asking me if I can move, bella?” he asked, his accent getting thicker as he teased me.

  “I guess I am.”

  “Yes. My grandmother taught me to dance as soon as I could walk.” He threw back his head, laughing, no doubt recalling his childhood dance lessons. “I stomped on her toes so many times. But don’t worry, I’m much better now. Your feet will be safe with me.” He gave me a wink.

  “Before we start, let’s discuss the terms of the agreement,” Dub interrupted, his voice all business. He handed me a piece of paper and began explaining as I read. “Rico’s record label pays $250 for a full day of your time. If it doesn’t take eight hours to get the necessary footage, you’ll still be paid for the full day. Rico has also agreed to pay an additional $100 bonus if you fit the bill and agree to start tomorrow since time is of the essence.”

  I read through the rest of the agreement, which seemed pretty standard, giving the record label permission to use my photo and image to promote the song and video. “This all sounds great.” I reached for a pen.

  “I know you don’t have an agent to look over it for you,” Dub said, halting my hand before I could sign. “But I do want to assure you, this contract is pretty normal, and the compensation is actually a little higher than average for a day of dancing. But if you have any concerns, you could ask someone to look over it for you. We have a little time if you want to take it to be sure.”

  “No. I’m sure.” I scrawled my name across the bottom.

  “OK. We’ll run through the choreography and blocking for the video now to let us see how you do. Maybe do some behind the scenes kind of filming for Rico’s social media pages. Then I have some other opportunities to discuss with you,” Dub said.

  “Of course, this all contingent on me being a good fit for the video,” I said.

  “You’re a good fit, bella. Trust me …
I can tell,” Rico said with a smirk.

  I blushed at his appraisal. “Let’s get started then.” I hopped to my feet.

  “OK, Britt, why don’t you get a feel for the music. Tyler will guide you since he helped develop the steps. After you’re comfortable, Rico will step in and work with you for his parts,” Will said.

  I moved to the empty floor space and closed my eyes, waiting for the music to start. As soon as it did, my hips began to move as my feet found the rhythm, adding my own flair to the basic salsa steps I figured would be the foundation for the dancing.

  After a few beats, a warm hand slipped around my waist, pressing against the small of my back. I opened my eyes and found Tyler in front of me. With my other hand gripped in his, he moved us around the room in perfect time to the music. His eyes twinkled when he spun me around and added a seductive move which pressed my back to his front.

  I laughed when he expertly maneuvered me back into his embrace. “And you’re going to be playing that bad man, Josè, in this video?”

  “That’ll be me,” he said easily, still keeping time with the song.

  “You don’t look like a villain.” He looked like the boy next door who’d grown up and gotten muscles or something.

  “Just you wait and see,” he said as the song ended, and he let me go.

  “How’d I do?” I asked as I walked over to the others.

  “Perfect,” Rico said before anyone else could speak. “But wait until you dance with me.”

  They started the song over, and this time, I danced it with Rico. He was a natural. Maybe the moves were in his blood because some of the steps he led me through were unlike any I’d ever seen in the Latin dance classes I’d taken. But he was such a good partner that my steps never faltered.

  Once the song ended, some woman approached Rico. I hadn’t seen her come in. She offered him her phone so we could watch the video she’d apparently just filmed of us dancing. “I think a clip from the first chorus would be perfect. The part where you seemed to have caught Brittany off guard with that dip and she looks so vulnerable. Your fans will eat it up,” the woman said.

  “What do you think? Is my assistant right about which part of the footage I should tease my fans with?” Rico asked.

  “The whole thing looks great to me. I’m sure whatever you decide your fans will like is going to be fine,” I offered, not wanting to pick the wrong section of video.

  His assistant took her phone back and got to work, her fingers moving furiously on the screen. “OK. It’s ready. I just need your social media info, Brittany, so I can tag you.” She held her phone out to me so I could add myself to the Instagram and then the Facebook posts.

  “Rico, we’ve gotta go. You’ve got to be across town in less than an hour,” the woman said when I handed the phone back.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, bella.” He brushed his fingers along my cheek. And with that, the charismatic man sauntered out of the room.

  “I’m out too,” Tyler said, waving and heading for the door. One by one, everyone bid us goodbye until I was left with Dub.

  “Have a seat, Brittany.” Dub nodded toward one of the chairs. Will walked back in with a bottle of water for me and some forms. Then he disappeared again.

  Once I was seated, Dub said, “You looked great. Natural. Everyone else we tried for this video seemed to give off the wrong air about them. The moves were stilted. The chemistry was missing. There was something wrong with every take. And since Rico is doing this for his grandparents, he wanted it to be perfect.”

  “I completely understand. It’s like when you have a vision of a dance move in your mind, you aren’t satisfied until you manage to execute it perfectly,” I offered, taking a drink from the water bottle.

  “With the way you move and adapt to the music, I think you’d be perfect for another job. How are your acting skills?” he asked, lacing his fingers together and leaning toward me.

  “Well, acting hasn’t ever been my ambition. But a lot of recitals growing up required a certain amount of acting. And I did participate in a few plays in high school. But I’ve never had any professional training,” I answered honestly.

  “I’ve been in talks with a hip-hop artist who needs a female to star in a series of interconnected videos. It does involve some acting.”

  “I completely understand, and I’d certainly be willing to try to do whatever the video called for. I’d love to hear more.” Inside, I was squirming with excitement.

  “Great. I’ll get the info together for you. Now show me what you’ve worked on for Lilac’s song.”

  I toed off my shoes. Eagerly, I hopped to my feet and rewrapped my skirt to make it shorter and even less constrictive.

  As soon as the melody started, I began to move through the steps I worked on yesterday, making sure to tap into the pain and frustration the lyrics seemed to bleed. It wasn’t hard. I just needed to envision Brooks.

  The music flowed into my veins, giving life to my body. Hopping left, I landed lightly on the eight-count. I did my variation on krumping, spinning into an fouetté. My body melted into a fondu. Stiffening my limbs, I popped and locked. Then I executed a series of couru across the floor, matching the tempo of the music. I danced like my heart was on the line, and with the final beat of the chorus, I collapsed to the floor in a graceful heap.

  Hopping to my feet, I shuffled over to the table. “That’s all I managed to put together so far. There’s a shift in emotion in the next verse, so I think it needs something different. Something more empowering. I just haven’t figured it out yet.” I shrugged. “Sorry I don’t have the whole thing done yet.”

  “Nonsense. You only had a day to work on it. I’m impressed with what you did. It was powerful and unique. If you have time, work on it some more this week and maybe we can meet up at the end of the week so you can show me a full routine.” He got to his feet and began rummaging through his backpack.

  “I should have time to get the rest of it figured out.” I stood as well.

  He held out a USB drive to me. “This has the series of hip-hop songs on it. The NDA from before covers this as well. Start listening to the songs so you can get a feel for the music. Jot down any story ideas and dance moves that come to you while you listen.”

  “I can definitely do that.” I took the drive. “Thanks so much for all your help. I’m really looking forward to using my dance skills in a way other than teaching little kids how to pop and lock or plie and pirouette. Don’t get me wrong, I love teaching. I just … imagined more.”

  “Perhaps you’re just ready for a change. And that’s OK. You should be doing more than teaching. Not that teaching isn’t necessary. There’s a certain amount of reward that comes with helping others learn. But you need more to feel fulfilled as a dancer. You’re not just a technically trained dancer, you’re a natural. And your kind of gift demands freedom to express and interpret itself. Music videos are a good opportunity for you to stretch your wings,” he said, erasing my guilt over wanting more.

  “I hope so. It’s an honor to dance for you. I’m so excited for tomorrow.” I barely repressed the urge to squeal.

  “Come without makeup or product in your hair. There will be stylists here who have a vision of how you should look.” He gathered up his belongings and shoved them all back inside his bag. “I probably won’t see you until later in the week. If I’m unavailable, Will can meet with you instead. Good luck tomorrow. And have fun.”

  After he left, I sat there, just basking in the opportunities I might get to take advantage of in the near future. I winced as I pinched my arm. Everything seemed too good to be true.

  Chapter 10

  Brooks

  ♪ Little Drops of Heaven by Pretty Maids

  I’d managed to stay away from Brittany for a week. No dirty texts. No phone call check-ins. No impromptu visits to Dawson and Izzy’s, hoping to run into her. Nothing.

  Unless stalking her on social media counted. The first peek was innocent. Becaus
e Dub was a friend, the post he’d tagged her in popped up on my feed. The tiny snippet of her dancing in the arms of the suave rapper had been just one more thing to make my blood boil. Yet, I watched the clip at least once a day. And checked out all the other images from her account.

  Wilder had been oddly scarce from home the past week, which infuriated me because I assumed he was with her. He and I had never gone so long without hanging out. It hurt.

  But today I had to go over to Dawson’s. I needed some studio time. Wilder’s bedroom door was shut as I slipped quietly down the hallway. He must have come home after I’d gone to bed last night. I glanced back at the door but didn’t go back to talk to him. Another day was going to pass, driving us farther apart. I never thought it would happen, but I couldn’t try to fix it today.

  When I got to Dawson’s, I did the courteous thing and rang the bell. No puppy barking greeted me, and no one came to let me in. I waited a beat longer before I pulled out my key and let myself in.

  “Hello! Brittany?” I called out.

  There was no answer. My heart dropped at her absence. Taking a deep breath, I headed down to the studio and turned on the equipment. I grabbed the guitar I kept here and settled on the worn couch. Closing my eyes, I let my fingers move across the strings, plucking the melody which had been playing on a loop in my mind for months. The song had started as a faint stirring of notes. But for the past several weeks, it was becoming a full-fledged song with chords and bass and guitar licks and rhythm. I needed to get it out of my head.

  Hours later, my stomach growled. My fingers throbbed with mild numbness from being pressed against the strings for hours. Déjà vu.

  I set my guitar aside and leaned my head back as I used the remote to play back some of what I’d created.