Becky Wicks - Before He Was A Secret (Starstruck #3)

by Becky Wicks

  ‘Guess that would’ve been too much craziness for one night,’ she says. ‘I might have spontaneously combusted.’

  I reach out, squeeze her hand. ‘Jackson. No one and nothing is going up in flames. We’re only just getting started.’ I catch Lou’s eyebrows raise next to me, right before Stephanie gets up to greet her friend Pete, who’s just walked in with the group we met at his house that time. I can’t help my eyes training her butt in her tight jeans as she walks over to him; her long hair curling down the back of her tight black shirt, the high heeled boots I’ve never seen before making her legs look longer, leaner.

  ‘Cutest ass in Nashville. So what’s the latest?’ Lou whispers not-so-subtly. ‘You guys seem to be getting along very well. Have you done the deed yet?’

  I frown at her, swig back my beer. Lou snorts, taps her phone on the plastic tablecloth. ‘Jesus Christ, Judge, you need to be tapping that before someone else snaps her up.’

  ‘Tapping that?’

  ‘He means getting some, as in sex,’ E-beth cuts in. ‘It’s a British term, I believe.’

  ‘You would know that,’ Tal says, rolling her eyes, but they’re both looking at me now, along with Lou, as though I could be about to divulge every secret from between the sheets. Lou tuts loudly.

  ‘Conor, Grace is gone, right? Finito. What’s stopping you?’

  ‘Perhaps what’s stopping him is the fact that he hasn’t told anyone yet about the break up, am I right?’ Tal says suddenly, narrowing her eyes at me. Her words make my stomach muscles clench, not to mention my fists but I draw a breath. I notice her look over to where Stephanie is now at the bar with Pete, ordering drinks. Tal leans closer over the table. ‘What’s the deal with that anyway?’

  ‘There’s no deal.’

  She frowns over her glasses. ‘As long as you don’t hurt her, Conor.’

  I feel my jaw pulse.

  ‘You’re leading her on,’ she adds.

  ‘We’re just hanging out,’ I say coolly. ‘Writing songs.’

  ‘So you both say,’ E-beth smirks.

  ‘Trust me, if he says it’s the truth, it’s the truth,’ Lou cuts in now. ‘This guy right here is the definition of a southern gentleman. Not that it helps much when it comes to getting laid. I keep telling him, sometimes you have to be a little assertive.’

  ‘No he doesn’t, not with her,’ Tal responds. ‘Stephanie’s a sweet girl. Really sweet. She’s been though some crap, like Grace.’

  ‘She’s nothing like Grace,’ I hiss. ‘You think I don’t know what she’s been through? We spend every day together…’

  ‘You can’t fix her like you tried to fix Grace,’ she says, ignoring me.

  ‘I don’t want to fix her. What is this, Tal, seriously? You’ve been talking to her about me? We don’t even know each other.’

  ‘I know,’ she says. ‘But with all due respect, Conor, everyone knows about you and Grace. And the other stuff. My cousin still goes to your church. If you can’t break things off properly with her you should not be letting Stephanie fall for you. I’m sure you are a gentleman but I’m just saying…’

  ‘Well, I’m just saying it’s nobody else’s business what we do.’ I stand up and push my chair back. ‘And you don’t know me, Tal. No one at that church knows me. You can tell your cousin to stop spreading rumors. And while you’re at it, it would be nice if you would keep your own mouth shut. With all due respect.’

  Tal’s eyes widen. Lou stands, puts a hand on my arm but I push her off, make my way through the crowded room, over to Stephanie at the bar. She’s deep in conversation with Pete. I hope to hell she didn’t see what just went down because my adrenaline is racing and my fists are still balled. I don’t usually lose it like that but bringing up Grace and “the other stuff.” Fuck.

  She got to me.

  I order another beer, try to control the need my fists suddenly have to punch something in my vicinity. I can’t believe Tal just had the audacity to imply I’m leading Stephanie on.

  The first act starts to play up on the stage and I lean against the bar, calming my breath. I watch a girl around our age with short, cropped blonde hair start to sing with her guitar. She has a soothing voice but I’m still on edge. I never considered I was leading Stephanie on. We are just writing songs. But yes, the overwhelming desire to kiss her consumes me every time I look at her now, and yes, I go to sleep with her voice floating round my head and her eyes locking onto mine at that piano stool. When my arm brushes hers, my throat goes dry like it did that time in the car, staring out at the lightning bugs with Grace...

  Dammit. She’s nothing like Grace. But yes, OK, maybe I am leading her on. I don’t mean to be but everything’s just so screwed up. I have to tell her the truth before it drives us both insane. Before I hurt her.

  People are chattering over the singing, It pulls me back to the moment. It’s unusual for people to talk over anyone’s set. Stephanie’s pulling at my shirt sleeve suddenly next to me and I realize a group of people are drawing attention near the door. ‘Conor, it’s him. She brought him!’

  I look to where she’s pointing, and where the camera guy and the presenter in the neckerchief are now staring, too. I see Mel, curls bouncing, high heels treading the floor to a table I noticed had been reserved near the stage, close to ours. I see Tal and E-beth whispering to each other excitedly; some other guy, tall, lanky with long hair and a loud shirt with a pointy collar trailing them. And behind him, Noah Lockton. There’s a girl with him. Both are in dark glasses, which they’re lifting from their faces onto their heads.

  ‘Chloe Campbell,’ Stephanie whispers. ‘Noah’s girlfriend.’ Her hand is gripping my arm with iron strength as we watch them all sit down. People have stopped staring now; or at least, they’ve stopped being so obvious about it. Nashville’s not the kind of place to make celebrities feel uncomfortable. We see them all the time. It’s pretty rare however that celebrities come anywhere to see me. She really brought him. Holy shit.

  Stephanie’s drumming her nails on the bar in angst. ‘I wanted them to come but now they’re here… holy crap, Conor.’

  ‘You’re going to be fine,’ I say, turning to her, taking her shoulders. ‘They’re just people, Jackson.’

  ‘People who can change our lives,’ she replies with a wry smile.

  I open my mouth to respond but I can’t think of anything to say to that. ‘We got a slot at The Bluebird, what happens next is written in the stars,’ I say instead.

  She blows her bangs from her eyes. ‘Let’s hope it’s written in our favour.’

  Our names are called to the front. I take a deep breath, compose myself, follow her back through the crowd, where we both pick up our guitars and take our seats on the red covered chairs on stage. ‘Nashville,’ Stephanie says into the mic, switching into stage mode instantly and putting the strap over her shoulder. ‘What a week, hey! I never dreamed I’d find myself up on this stage, and I’m so honoured to be here, you have no idea. Watching all those YouTube videos just doesn’t compare.’

  Laughter bubbles round the room. I see Chloe Campbell smiling. They love her, three seconds in.

  ‘My name is Stephanie, and this is Conor Judge,’ she says, and my eyes find Mel’s. She holds her thumb up in a good luck gesture and I try not to look at Noah Lockton through the clapping and whistling, though it’s tough not to. His presence seems to fill the place somehow, sitting right here with his hand on his girlfriend’s knee and the other gripping a Corona, which the guy in the pointy-collared shirt just handed him. Even his famed curly hair, poking out from under the gray hoodie that’s hardly concealing him from the crowd, is pop star poster boy perfection. ‘We have time for three songs tonight,’ Stephanie says. ‘We hope you love them. OK, Conor, shall we Dance In The Rain?’

  ‘Sounds like a plan, miss Jackson. This one’s for everyone who’s ever been scared to take a chance,’ I answer on cue. And I don’t miss Lou’s knowing little smile as she looks pointedly between Stephani
e and I. I block her out; block out Tal too.

  We sing our way through our set and I speak between the songs, explaining a little about each one. Stephanie says the final thanks before we both bow to a rapturous applause. It’s louder than it was for the people before us and everyone’s on their feet. Even Mel and Noah Lockton. I know it’s Stephanie’s alter ego that has carried us through again, mostly. We charmed them. I can see the TV presenter and the women who gave us the slot all beaming. We charmed the goddam Bluebird.

  This is insane.

  ‘Go, Conor!’ I hear Lou yell as Tal, Pete and E-beth whoop from their respective places, but Mel’s beckoning us over to her table, where the guy with them has pulled out two chairs. I take a seat next to Noah Lockton, who holds out a hand. Stephanie leans over the table to hug Mel, but she reaches for my hand under the table when she sits down and I hold it and don’t let go.

  ‘Guys, that was spectacular, was that first one the one you were practicing yesterday at Ace?’ Mel asks, signalling for the waitress. I nod, noting the kohl lining her eyes, feeling Stephanie squeezing my fingers again against my jeans before releasing me. ‘Sorry I didn’t let you know we were coming, we were in another meeting, we came straight here,’ Mel says. In the corner of my eye I see E-beth pointing her cell phone at us. ‘Glad we could make it.’

  ‘Loved it mate, crowd loved it too,’ the older guy says now, drumming his fingers on the plastic table covering. ‘Mel here was just telling me all about you – she knows talent when it hits her earholes. I’m Denzel. I look after Peter Pan here.’ He motions to Noah and I smile at the reference to one of his songs, which was a massive hit, based on Peter Pan. Denzel’s shirt is louder than his cockney British accent. He sounds and looks like Russell Brand.

  ‘I’m Noah,’ Noah says needlessly. ‘This is Chloe.’

  ‘It’s an honor to meet you,’ I say at the exact same time as Stephanie, who blushes instantly. Chloe laughs and makes an aaaww sound and Denzel rolls his eyes.

  ‘Bloody hell, you’re as bad as this pair ‘ere. Anyway, loved your stuff. I don’t say that lightly. Keep writing. I like that one about the stars.’

  ‘I loved Stars,’ Chloe Campbell says, half to Noah, half to us. She’s beautiful; long brown hair twisted over one shoulder, bright red lip-gloss. She’s in a matching tight red dress and I notice the infamous Tinker Bell necklace round her neck. Stephanie told me before that it was a gift from Noah, from back when they were kids. Theirs is a famous Hollywood story. I know a little; not as much as Stephanie, clearly. I feel like I’m sitting in a teen magazine.

  The waitress appears. I order whiskey and Coke. I need something strong. With everything combined my nerves are shot. ‘Noah,’ Chloe says, putting a manicured hand on his arm. ‘That would be perfect for the duet, right? Stars?’ She turns to us. ‘Did you sell it yet?’

  ‘No,’ I say, glancing at Mel but Chloe’s frowning now, scrutinizing Stephanie suddenly. ‘Do I know you?’

  Stephanie shakes her head, smiles wryly. ‘No. But you know my friend Alyssa, I think.’

  I watch Chloe’s eyes widen. ‘You know Alyssa?’

  ‘The island,’ Noah cuts in, twirling his beer round on the table. ‘On Deserted, right? I remember your pink bikini.’

  Chloe laughs and pretends to whack his shoulder. ‘You would!’

  ‘And her voice, of course! The voice of an angel!’ I watch him wrap an arm around her and smack a kiss to her forehead. She pushes him away jokingly.

  ‘That was you?’ Denzel says incredulously. Even Mel looks shocked.

  ‘Still paying the price,’ Stephanie says in mock remorse as her drink is placed in front of her.

  ‘Small world,’ Noah replies, as we all raise our drinks and clink glasses. ‘Congrats on making it in Nashville.’

  ‘Well, we haven’t exactly made it yet,’ I say, taking a swig.

  ‘You have, once you’ve won over this crowd,’ Mel replies, gesturing around her. ‘Trust me. If they give you a regular slot, take it. And don’t ever miss one.’

  ‘No ma’am,’ I say. I can’t help looking at the way Chloe is twisting Noah’s ring around in a circle as we talk. She’s tapping into her phone with the other hand.

  ‘Hey! You’ll never guess who I’m sitting here with in the Bluebird Cafe!’ Chloe cries suddenly at the screen. ‘Hang on, let me turn the camera on.’ She turns the phone round till both her and Stephanie are on the screen and I hear another girl shrieking from the other end.

  ‘Alyssa! Oh my God, I miss you,’ Stephanie says, pulling the phone closer. The girls chatter on and Noah turns to me, shaking his head.

  ‘So, what brings you to Nashville?’ I ask him.

  ‘Meetings. Same as what takes me everywhere,’ he says. ‘We’re flying to Tampa tonight. You guys were awesome, seriously. So what’s the deal? You just started writing for Ace?’

  ‘Yeah, it’s early days,’ I tell him. ‘Mel wants to sell Stars first.’

  ‘I’d sing it,’ he says. ‘You’re a great writer.’

  ‘Great performers too, the whole package,’ Denzel cuts in.

  ‘I just want to write,’ I tell them. Whenever anyone asks if I want more, I picture photogs chasing me down alleyways and cringe. Fame and all its trappings terrify me. Like I told Stephanie when we first talked, that’s never been my dream.

  ‘What about her?’ I watch Denzel’s eyes linger on her. She’s laughing at something Alyssa’s saying now; radiant and out of her shell. ‘She’s got it, mate,’ he says softly.

  ‘I know,’ I reply, but something in his voice, in his eyes makes me feel uncomfortable.

  ‘I need your demo. When you’ve got it cut, make sure I get it. I’ll pass it on.’ He turns to Mel. ‘Mel, make sure I get it, yeah?’

  ‘Will do.’

  ‘Stephanie’s a star,’ Denzel tells her. ‘A little twinkling star.’ He looks at his flashing BlackBerry. ‘Lockton, time to go mate. The car’s here. Chloe.’

  ‘We just got here,’ Chloe says, looking up from her conversation.

  Denzel stands. ‘Mel, love, pleasure as always, thank you muchly for tonight. Stephanie…’ he pauses, reaching for her hand across the table. He brings it to his lips before slipping her a card. ‘Keep in touch. Right, let’s get a wriggle on. Oi, no cameras.’ He’s talking to E-beth now, still pointing her cell phone at us all, but she stands up, crosses over to him in her cowboy boots and flowing white skirt.

  ‘You’re English,’ she says.

  ‘And you’re very observant.’

  ‘Are you his manager?’

  He looks her up and down. ‘Another time, another place, love. Guys, we’re already late.’ Denzel turns and marches towards the exit. E-beth looks after him. Disappointment is etched all over her face.

  ‘He’s my manager,’ Noah tells her, holding out his hand for her phone. She stares at him, lips parted like a guppy fish, star struck. He takes the phone, pulls her close and snaps a selfie of them both. ‘How do you know Stephanie?’

  E-beth looks frozen. ‘I… er… she’s…’

  ‘We’re roommates,’ Stephanie tells him as he hands her the phone back.

  Chloe tugs on Noah’s sleeve. ‘Let’s go before Denzel flips.’

  ‘Good call,’ he replies, shaking our hands before making his way across the bar, stopping to sign a couple of beermats and pose for a few more photos on his way.

  Stephanie turns to me, shell-shocked. ‘Wow.’

  ‘I’m making this my profile photo!’ E-beth says out loud. She’s still staring at her phone as we take our seats at their table. ‘Can you believe Noah Lockton just did that?!’

  ‘Tell us everything,’ Tal says, pulling Stephanie closer by the arm. ‘What the hell did you just talk about with Chloe Campbell? How pretty is she up close by the way…’

  I order another beer, listen to them all talking. I can’t concentrate for long enough to really join in. I watch Stephanie through all the acts that get up to play next. I watch her ey
es, her lips, her hands, the way her hair moves, remembering the way Denzel just looked at her like she was some prized pony he was mentally fixing to parade in front of the world.

  By the time everyone gets up to leave and Lou announces she’s heading to the club, I’m more than a little buzzed, but instead of following her roommates out the door, Stephanie throws me a look, tells them she’ll see them later. I know she wants to talk about tonight, make plans to make the most of all this. I also know Tal doesn’t like it one little bit, judging by the look on her face.

  ‘Drink?’ Stephanie says when they’re gone.

  I look around us. ‘Sure, but they’re closing soon.’ I motion for the check. ‘I know another place,’ I tell her as the waitress idles over.

  ‘It’s already covered. HotFlush picked it up,’ she tells us, shifting her tray of glasses into one hand. ‘By the way, Marge saw you talking to Noah Lockton and she didn’t want to interrupt, but she asked me to give you this.’ She hands us a note from her apron pocket. I open it up as Stephanie looks over my shoulder.

  Same time, same stage, Friday nights, 8.30. Good job!

  ‘We got a slot?’ Stephanie asks in shock.

  ‘We got a slot!’

  In a daze we collect our guitars and head around the block on foot to a tiny dive I know is always open late. I order us both more whisky. She doesn’t complain. ‘I can’t believe this is my life,’ she says yet again as our drinks are placed before us. ‘Did you see how gorgeous Chloe Campbell is up close?’

  ‘I prefer blonds,’ I say, picking up the drinks. The words are out of my mouth before I’ve thought about it. She looks at me in interest as I lead her to a table in the corner, pull out two wooden chairs next to each other. A group of older guys are laughing in the other corner, the jukebox is playing country hits and two college kids are making out between playing pool on a tattered table. It’s dark. The barman who served us is still looking at Stephanie like he recognizes her, which he probably does. Even Noah Lockton recognized her from that damn show.