She rolled her eyes. “Okay, that’s seriously gross.”
I leaned forward. “That’s not what you were saying earlier when my tongue was out.”
Her face turned red, and I smiled wickedly.
We finished our food in silence, and she looked at her watch. “Do you need a lift anywhere before the funeral?”
I looked down at my clothes. “I need a new suit. Can we stop at my place?”
“Your place?”
“Yeah.”
She bit her lower lip. “I don’t want anyone to see us together. What if Icon finds out?”
I stared at her incredulously. “Icon? You’re still going through with the contest? After everything that’s happened?”
“Well, yeah… why?”
I sat up straighter. “Jesus, Taffy. I thought you’d come to your senses after my mom’s murder and what happened between us last night.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked, looking confused.
“It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you all along. This contest is a mistake. Seriously, you have no idea what it’s like, once you’ve signed the dotted line with Icon. It seems like the American dream, but it’s far from it.”
She frowned. “How can a television contest seriously be that bad? One that made you a star. A very rich and successful one at that.”
“Sure, it all looks awesome from the outside.” People at the next table stared at us, and I lowered my voice, “but, Icon is a cesspool of greedy assholes who will give you a contract, and in return, take away all of your freedom.”
“Explain what you mean by that,” she said, looking at me like I was nuts. “You seem pretty free to me.”
“That’s how it looks, but believe me, I’m a prisoner. Hell, being here without their permission, is against my contract. Sleeping somewhere in a place where they can’t monitor me, isn’t part of the contract. I can’t even take a shit without them knowing where it is, and what brand of toilet paper I’m using, because of the damn contract. Does that sound like fun to you?”
“Maybe you should have negotiated a better contract.”
“They don’t negotiate,” I said matter-of-factly.
“You know for sure?” she asked, her eyes searching mine.
I didn’t, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. If she actually won the contest, she’d be putty in their hands, and they’d have her sign whatever they wanted. She’d be too enamored with everything to care about the small print. They’d probably tell her it was no big deal, and it would be all over but the crying. I knew Taffy, and I also knew how Icon worked. “Yes,” I lied. “There is no negotiating. It’s all or nothing.”
She put her salad fork down. “Well, regardless, Ransom, I’m not some gullible little ninny who can’t read a contract, or make her own decisions. I mean, you’re kind of jumping the gun, anyway. I probably won’t even make it passed the second round.”
“I’m not saying that you’re gullible. I’m saying that it’s a lot of work to make it that far, possibly go all the way, only to have them dictate your life for the next seven years. It’s not worth it.”
“I’d like to be the judge of that. You’ve made it, and aren’t happy,” she said, staring at me angrily. “I see that. But you are not me, and I should be able to make my own decisions.”
“That’s the same way I felt at your age, but when it comes to this show, you definitely need someone to point you in the right direction, and that person is me.”
“You’re not pointing me anywhere; you’re just pushing me away from success.”
“Hey, I want you to be successful,” I said. “But there are other ways…”
She groaned. “Look, I appreciate your concern, but if you’re not going to support or root for me, then… well, then, get out of the way, because I’m not giving up on this contest. I’m going to the next round,” she said, her eyes hard. “I’m going to give it everything that I have, and I’m sorry that if you can’t accept that… but it’s my dream. You’ve had yours and now… I want to have a shot at mine.”
I opened my mouth to tell her that the dream she had shouldn’t be signing with Icon, and that I’d help her get into the music industry if she really wanted to, but then our waitress returned.
“Would either of you care for dessert?” she asked, staring at me curiously. I wondered how much she’d actually heard and looked towards Tiffany.
“No,” replied Tiffany, looking down at her half-filled salad plate. “In fact, I’m no longer even hungry. Can you please bring us the tab?”
“Sure thing,” she said, taking the bill out of her apron. “You can pay at the register. Have a good night, and come back real soon.”
“Thanks,” said Taffy, grabbing the tab.
The waitress stared at me hard one last time, and then walked away.
“Hey, I’ve got it,” I said, trying to take the bill from her.
“No,” she said. “I’m paying for it. I’d hate to make you spend money that you made from Icon, on this food, knowing how much it bothers you.”
Frustrated, I grabbed her wrist, and leaned forward. “I made the money for Icon. My voice made them millions of dollars.”
She snaked her hand away. “Good for you, and good for them. Look, I have a headache and just want to lie down before the funeral. Can you call your drivers, and have them come and get you?”
I sighed. “Tiffany-”
She scooted out of the booth. “Thanks. I’ll see you tonight at the funeral.”
“Look, I’m sorry if you’re upset. I’m just trying to help you.”
“Save it,” she said. “I’m seriously tired of arguing.”
I stood up, and watched as she grabbed her purse, and then stormed out of the diner.
Chapter Nineteen
Tiffany
I was so angry when I left the diner, that I barely remembered driving back to my apartment. It wasn’t until I threw my purse on the sofa, and sank down into my chaise that I realized I’d abandoned a famous celebrity like Ransom in an old, dumpy diner. Stifling a giggle, I closed my eyes, and began rubbing my temples. As my headache began to subside, my phone vibrated.
A message.
I grabbed my purse, and checked the message. It was from Ransom.
Are you okay?
Yes, I answered. Just a headache.
Do you feel better now that you left your headache at Zeke’s?
I laughed. Sorry. Did you find a ride?
Yes.
Well, I’ll see you in a couple hours.
I hope so.
You will. I’d never miss your mom’s funeral.
I already miss you.
Feeling my heart flutter slightly, I smiled. You’re such a flirt.
I’m not flirting. I’m telling it like it is. Can I give you a ride to the funeral?
I hesitated, knowing that the media would be close enough to possibly snap a picture of us together. No, I can drive.
He paused for a few seconds. No, I’ll pick you up. I know what you’re worried about and I promise, nobody will know.
I groaned. Fine.
I’ll pick you up in the lobby at four-thirty.
Okay.
He didn’t send another text, so I put my phone on the charger. As I walked away, the phone began to ring.
I picked it up and cringed, ready for the tongue lashing. “Hi, Remy.”
“What’s going on between you and Ransom?”
I smirked. “Well, you certainly don’t mess around.”
She sighed. “I’m worried about you, Tiffany. He’s a womanizer, a drunk, and not somebody you want to get involved with. Hell, he’s a fucking mess.”
“Oh, come on. He’s not that bad.”
“Yes, he is. You have no idea how fucked up he is. Just stay away from him. For your sake, for my sake. I don’t want to lose you as a friend.”
“You would never do that.”
“Just, please, keep your distance from my brother. I kno
w him a lot better than you do, Tiff.”
“That’s going to be a little hard since he’s giving me a ride to the funeral.”
She coughed. “No, absolutely not. I’ll pick you up.”
“There’s no need to.”
“Yes, I am picking you up. Besides, you know you’re not supposed to be near one of the Icon judges.”
“I know, but I’m going to the funeral. Besides, I probably shouldn’t be around you either, since you’re one of the judge’s sisters.”
“Fine, I’ll send a limo for you.”
“Look, I’ll just drive myself. I’ll be there at five, sharp.”
“You don’t have to risk it, hon. Mom would understand.”
“I’m paying my respects. I loved your mom.”
“She loved you, too.”
“I know.”
“Just do yourself a favor, Tiffany, and stay away from Ransom. He’s no good for you or your career. I know he bitches and complains about Icon, but seriously, I think you have an excellent shot at going all the way.”
I smiled. “Do you really think so?”
“I really do. You know, your mom would be very proud of you. Hell, so would mine.”
“I think our moms are proud of both of us.”
“I don’t know about that. Just remember what I told you, though, and stay away from Ransom if you know what’s good for you.”
“I know you’re right.”
“I am. Listen, I have to go. I’ll see you soon?”
“Definitely.”
She hung up, and I stared at the wall in the kitchen, wondering what I was going to do about Ransom. He was so persuasive, and saying “no” to a man like that, wasn’t easy. The fact that I couldn’t stop thinking about him didn’t help matters, either. I closed my eyes, picturing his hands and lips on my skin and released a ragged sigh.
Damn, but I wanted him so much…
I knew the timing wasn’t right for us, but I couldn’t help the way I felt. Not only did he drive me crazy in bed, but every time I pictured his smile, I felt all warm and fuzzy inside. The same way I’d felt as a teenager, only this time it was much more intense. If I wasn’t careful, I’d let him talk me into shrugging away all of my plans for a singing career. But deep down, I knew that I’d never forgive myself if I walked away from the contest that easily. I had to see how far I could go. It’s what my mother would have wanted.
Sighing, I decided to tell him the truth, that it was too risky to arrive at the service together. Not only would it be bad for me, but Icon would be furious with him. No matter how much he disliked them, he was obviously still under contract.
Making up my mind, I called and left him a message, telling Ransom that I’d see him at the funeral, but at a safe distance, and that if he wanted to talk, he could stop by my apartment later that evening.
He returned my call shortly, obviously frustrated. “So, you’re coming to the funeral, but you’re going to just ignore me.”
I rubbed my forehead. “Ransom, we’ve went over this so many times.”
“Taffy, I need you by my side today. It would really mean a lot.”
I closed my eyes and pictured my mother’s face, urging me to not give in. That Ransom and I didn’t even know each other that well, and he was expecting too much. “Ransom, I just can’t take any chances,” I pleaded.
He didn’t say anything.
“I’m sorry about your mom, really I am. But you’re going to have so many people surrounding you, people that love you, and support you. And hell, I’ll still be at the funeral, wishing you the best.”
“It’s not the same thing,” he replied, in a clipped voice.
I bit my lower lip. “Look, when the funeral is over, come back to my place and we’ll talk.”
He was quiet.
“Ransom?”
“Yeah.”
“Just think about it, okay?”
“I’m leaving tomorrow afternoon. For New York to judge the first round of Icon in that city. After that, I’ll be traveling to the other locations, and won’t be back for another month or so.”
“I understand,” I said, feeling emptiness in the pit of my stomach. I was already missing him, and he hadn’t even left yet. This wasn’t good.
“Shit, I’ve got to go. Sonia’s beating down my door already.”
“Okay,” I replied. “I’ll see you at the funeral.”
“Right.”
“Goodbye.”
He sighed. “Goodbye.”
I hung up, and leaned back against the wall, wondering if I was making a big mistake. My dream was to become a singer, a famous singer. But, was it worth pushing away the man I finally had. The one I’d also dreamed about?
Chapter Twenty
Ransom
Sonia was pissed off as all hell, and railed on me for an hour about being a douchebag.
“What the fuck? You didn’t check in at all last night. Dammit, your mom was murdered, and nobody heard a peep out of you in the last twelve hours? I’ve left you several messages, which you didn’t even have the decency to respond to!” she snapped, pacing back and forth. “You could have at least sent me a message, telling me that you were still breathing!”
“Sorry,” I replied, staring up at the ceiling as I lay back on my sofa. I’d turned off my phone again, knowing that it was the only way to keep anyone from hounding me. “I’ve had a lot of shit on my mind.”
She sat down across from me on one of the leather club chairs. “I know, I get that, hon, but… you are giving me a fucking ulcer.” She leaned forward and put her head in her hands. “I just can’t do it anymore. I’m tired of babysitting. It’s just too much work trying to get you to where you need to be, lying through my teeth to the studio about your whereabouts, and keeping your shit together for you. Dammit, Ransom,” she looked over at me, “when are you just going to grow up?”
She just didn’t get it.
“Sonia, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, really. And I’m sorry for all of the trouble I’ve caused you, I really am, but the truth is - I want out. I really want out. After Icon.”
“You want out?”
“Yeah. I want to hire a lawyer, and see if there is any way out of these fucking contracts.”
She pursed her lips, and stared at me.
“Sonia?”
She rubbed her forehead and then nodded. “Fine, you want to leave Icon? There is a way, Ransom, but let me tell you, you will lose everything. Everything.”
I stared at her in surprise. “You’re telling me that there is really a way out?”
She snorted. “You look surprised. Yes, and there always was. But you’ll lose the rights to all of your songs, and walk away without a dime.”
I sat up. “The songs were theirs. They wrote them anyway.”
“Well then, if you’re okay with giving up your money, your homes, your cars, hell, that island you invested in… I’m talking everything, then, you can walk away. Hell, it’s all in the contracts. I read them, didn’t you?”
I grinned sheepishly.
“Skimmed them?” she replied with a snort. “Read only what you wanted to?”
“Hey, I was young and stupid. I didn’t know anything back then.”
“Obviously.” She sighed. “Ransom, normally, I’d fight you on this, and tell you that you’re making a big fucking mistake. A monstrous one. But, I’ve seen how miserable you are and I know you have one hell of a voice, so you’ll recover. If this is really what you want, I’ll do what I can to help you.”
“Even if you’ll lose me for a client?”
Her eyes lit up. “I never said anything about that. Those fuckers don’t own me, Ransom.”
I raised my eyebrows. “I thought it was Icon who hired you as my agent.”
“They did,” she said. “But unlike you, I read the contracts, and negotiated before I signed anything. I never read anything, anywhere that indicated I couldn’t represent you, should you leave Icon, and believe me, I wen
t over them several dozen times.”
I smiled. “You’re good.”
She put her feet up on the coffee table and grinned back. “Fucking-a-right, I am.”
“I owe you.”
“You’ve owed me for a long time, now Ransom. You’ve just been too busy feeling sorry for yourself to realize it.”
“I’m finished with that. I’ll do whatever I can to pay you back.”
“Good. One thing though, Ransom, I’m going to have to insist that you stay sober while we figure this thing out.”
“No problem. Gladly.”
Now that there was hope, drinking was the furthest from my mind.
“You need a ride to the funeral?” she asked, checking her watch.
“You’re going?”
She frowned. “Of course I’m going. Do you think that I dressed up like this for shits and giggles?'
I glanced down her black dress, and was reminded of how much she loathed wearing anything but pants. “You look nice.”
“Thanks. I’m only doing it to pay my respects to your mom, God rest her soul.” Her eyes softened. “You know, I only met her a few times, but I could tell that she was a special woman.”
I blinked back tears. “Yeah, she really was.”
“Well, I’ll let you get ready. Meet me in the lobby in an hour, and we’ll take the limo.”
“Okay.”
“And Ransom, remember what I told you, lay off of the booze. We need your head clear.”
An image of Tiffany popped into my head, and I knew there was already one thing in my mind that was clear, I wouldn’t leave Icon until she walked away first.
Chapter Twenty-One
Tiffany
After taking another shower, I slipped into a conservative black dress, and heels, then pulled my hair back into a loose bun. Knowing I’d eventually look like a raccoon if I wore eye-makeup to a funeral, I skipped the mascara, adding only a touch of lipstick. I topped it off with a spritz of perfume, stuffed a handful of tissue into my purse, and left my apartment.
It was a short drive to the funeral, which was in Glendale at Woodland Springs Baptist Church. Although it was a private service, the chapel was already packed by the time I arrived, which was twenty minutes before the service was to begin. Trying to remain inconspicuous, I sat in the back of the church, and read through the funeral program.
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