by Elle Casey
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN I wake up with a hell of a hangover. All I had were three glasses of champagne, so this situation isn’t one bit fair. I clean my teeth using the toothbrush and toothpaste supplied by the hotel and put on the clothing that I was wearing yesterday, slipping into my real ballet flats—not the hastily constructed ones—as I head to the door. I need to eat some breakfast. I’m going to put it on my tab here at the hotel and send Lister some money for it when I get home. Screw going out to Central Park. After that terrible night’s sleep, all I want to do is hibernate until it’s time to leave. I’d order in room service if it weren’t so expensive. The phone on the small table by the door catches my eye because there’s a blinking red light on it. I pick up the handset, pressing the message button. A recorded voice plays. “Good morning, Amber. This is Red. I hope you don’t mind me contacting you at your hotel. I was just wondering if you might have time for a cup of coffee this mor
CHAPTER NINETEEN At first I don’t see Red. There are several people in the lobby, but I finally find him hiding behind an open newspaper. He’s wearing a cowboy hat, Western boots, and dark glasses, with rings on almost every finger. If he wanted to be incognito, he should have tried harder; he’s easily identifiable from a hundred yards as an aging rocker. But at least his hair is tied back in a ponytail and not teased up to the sky. The lines on his face are deep, and when he stands up to greet me, I can see he’s stiff by the way he moves. “Good morning, Amber,” he says in a gruff voice. “Don’t you look beautiful.” He reaches toward me and I stiffen, not expecting the warm welcome or the contact. It doesn’t stop him or even slow him down, though. His arms go around my shoulders and he gives me a short hug, patting me on the back. He smells like aftershave. There’s a man who used to stay at the farm who wore the same scent. He looked like Santa Claus and always made us laugh. It’s a poi
CHAPTER TWENTY Red leans in, resting his bejeweled hands on the tablecloth, fiddling with the silverware by his plate as he delivers his proposition to me. “As you mentioned before, we have a bit of an image problem and some issues with integrating Ty into the band. This is not news to us. But what you don’t know is that we’ve got a new deal on the table with another label that we’re real happy about for the most part, but they’ve mentioned some of the things that you have.” “The need for an update?” His mouth twists before he answers. “Pretty much. We’re not exactly comfortable with the idea, but that’s not the worst part of it. The worst part is that the person they’ve assigned to handle that updating process is a complete wanker.” I almost laugh but manage to keep it in. “What does that have to do with me?” “There’s room in our contract for negotiation. What would you think about helping us out? On a temporary basis, of course. Very short-term thing.” “I don’t think I’d be intereste
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE As soon as I’m in my room, I call my sisters, but the phone just rings and rings, and neither of them answers. I think about my next move and realize there’s only one for me to make. I can’t just sit here in this hotel room wondering what I should do. I’ll walk around in circles and wear a hole in this expensive carpet. I call the house phone at the farm and wait for someone to pick up there. “Yello.” “Is this Barbara?” “No, this is Carol. Amber?” I nod. “Yes, it’s me.” “What’s wrong? You sound like you’re crying.” “I am.” I take a deep, shuddering breath, trying to control my emotions. “What happened? Tell me what’s going on.” “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” She instantly goes tough on me. “I know you’re in New York City, and I know you’ve met with the band, so out with it.” “They told you?” I didn’t think to instruct my sisters to keep our conversations to themselves. Is everyone going to be angry at me when I get back? All that thought does is make me cry harde
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO I can’t wait around in this hotel room all morning for my sisters to get back from wherever they are—probably talking to the travel agent about a new ticket for me. I need to clear my head. I leave the room with my bag over my shoulder and take the elevator down to the lobby. I wave at James and Jeremy on my way out and stop just outside the main doors. I look left and right, trying to figure out which direction I should take. “May I help you find something? Would you like me to call you a cab?” I smile at the older gentleman who works as a doorman for the hotel. “Actually, if you could tell me how to get to Central Park from here, that would be great.” He points up the street. “Just head in that direction for two blocks. You can’t miss it.” Now that I look in the direction he’s pointing, I think I can already see it. Duh. “Thank you very much.” “Don’t mention it.” I walk with purpose, glad to be out. The fresh air is bracing. My mood has shifted considerably; today’
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE We take several winding paths through the trees and over little hills. It’s beautiful in the park. There are lots of people walking with their dogs, with friends, with family members, or alone. There’s even a man with a tiny pup using a little wheelchair for the dog’s back legs. I wish I could take a picture to show Rose. I make a mental note to tell her about it later. “It’s just up here,” Ty says. We reach a small clearing with something embedded in the pathway in the shape of a circle. Ty points to a building across the street at the edge of Central Park. “That’s where Yoko Ono lives, at the Dakota. It’s the same place where John Lennon was shot and killed.” I look at the building that seems very much like many of the others I’ve seen. But it isn’t. Of course it isn’t. It’s where a music legend, known for preaching about tolerance and love, had his life taken by a madman. I feel very blue all of a sudden. Before, when I heard of a musician being killed, it was s
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR The first store we go into is way too foofy. There are turtlenecks on every mannequin and so much plaid I feel like I’ve been teleported to Scotland. I check out one of the price tags on a cashmere sweater and nearly choke on my own tongue. Fifteen hundred dollars? Are they insane? Ty is looking around with a pained expression. “You look constipated,” I say, trying not to laugh. “I think I am getting constipated looking at these things.” “Why are we even here?” I giggle. “Because our style consultant told me this is where I need to shop.” “Your style consultant needs surgery.” “Surgery?” he asks, looking at me all confused. “To get the stick removed from her butt.” “That’s what I’m thinking.” He grins. “You want to get out of here?” I nod. “Please.” This clothing is hurting my eyes. Everywhere I look there’s another dead animal: a fox fur collar on a suede coat; leather jackets; crocodile bags; snakeskin shoes. Ugh. It’s no better than a taxidermy shop. We head out
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE As we’re leaving the store, I hear my phone ringing in my bag. I stop immediately and dig around until I find it. I look at Ty apologetically. “I have to grab this.” He nods and takes my hand again, guiding me while I answer the call. “Hi, it’s me,” I say. I have an attack of the sillies now that I’m finally talking to my sisters. I have so much to tell them. I’m holding hands with a rock star! “Hi, Me,” Em says laughing. “You sound happy.” “I might be.” I can’t give her details because the man behind my happiness is standing right next to me, guiding me toward a coffee shop. “Yay! Tell me about it.” “What’s going on with you guys?” I say, trying to direct her away from the subject of me and the crazy emotions that I can barely control. “Well, we went and got you another plane ticket, but now I’m thinking that was a mistake.” “Why?” “Because I talked to Carol. It sounds like maybe you have other plans now?” “I’m not sure. I really need to talk to you about it, but n
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX The walk back from the café to my hotel remains mostly a blur, but the part where Ty comes up in the elevator with me to my room and then stands outside my door . . . that will be burned into my memory for the rest of my life. “What are you doing tonight?” he asks. He’s playing it cool, so I’m going to try to do the same. “I’m not sure. I have to talk to Lister and see what he says about all this stuff.” “All of what stuff?” I don’t know how much the band
has shared with Ty about this job they proposed to me; it can’t be much because he hasn’t mentioned it, and now he’s wondering why I need to talk to Lister. Outside my hotel room doesn’t really seem like the place to talk about it either. Best to be vague. “Just some things I discussed with Red this morning.” “Oh. So . . . are you going back home today?” “Maybe. It depends on what happens with Lister.” “Cool.” He looks over his shoulder down the hall and then at the floor between us. “If you’re going to be around, m
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN I cannot believe I just put my boobs on the glass of Lister’s copy machine. Am I insane? I think Em was right about me; when I see problems, I feel like I need to solve them, regardless of whether it’s a good idea or not. I need to learn how to control myself, because I’m in a city loaded with people who have issues. Lister goes into the conference room where my papers are still sitting and waits for me to take a seat. My face is burning so hot, I know it has to be flaming red, but he doesn’t say a word about it. “I see that you signed all the documents.” “Yes. I couldn’t remember the telephone extension Jennifer gave me, so I went looking for her and ended up . . . in that other room.” I finish weakly, knowing that this does not explain why my breasts were pressed up against the glass of his copier. “Wait here and I’ll have a check brought to you for the advance.” The jaw muscles on his face are clenching and unclenching. I look up at him as he towers over me. He’
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT I thought the bank was going to be a hassle, but the people in there were really nice. An hour after arriving, I’m walking out the door with a thousand dollars cash in my purse and a brand-new debit card. They also offered me a credit card, but I declined. My mothers have told my sisters and me for years and years that living on credit is a bad idea, so I’m paying cash wherever I go. And the first place I need to go is the underwear store. After the driver opens the door and helps me get settled in the car, I lean forward, holding on to the front seat. “Mr. Blake, I need to get some clothes. Do you know a good place where they have everything, including underwear?” He clears his throat, staring straight out the front window. “Yes.” “For regular clothing, I like the vintage stuff. I already went to a few stores around town I liked. My favorite was over in Brooklyn. But they don’t really have underwear, and even if they did, I probably wouldn’t buy it because it’s us
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE I’m glad I decided to go shopping and buy some new things. Now I can finally have a nice hot shower and use all these new products I bought to make my hair and skin smell delicious. In the vintage shops I directed Mr. Blake to, I was able to find some fabulous clothes for not a whole lot of money, and if I wear every outfit three times, I have enough clothing for my entire two weeks here and I won’t have to go shopping again. I even bought a new purse that goes with everything. It’s totally wild—sporting every color of the rainbow with sparkles sewn onto it. I love it so much, it’s my favorite thing about New York so far. Except for Ty . . . and my new job. I drop my new wallet, my key card, and my telephone inside the purse along with a few odds and ends, and put it on the front table near the door of my hotel room. Ty left me a message with his address, but I still have a half hour to kill before I leave. All dressed up and nowhere to go. I stare at myself in the
CHAPTER THIRTY Ty is back in just a few minutes, and he takes the chair next to me. He’s holding a remote control, which he aims over the back of his head to start a film rolling. The lights dim with another touch of a button. “What is this?” The film that starts to play looks very amateur in style. “These are some home movies I had put together from some old films my parents had.” The first few minutes of the show are of a little boy. He’s holding a guitar. His hair is messed up and long. It makes my heart go soft. “Is that you?” He’s pudgy, running around in the backyard with the plastic instrument, his body covered in dirt. Next to him in a baby seat is an infant with a blue blanket over him. “Yeah. That’s me and my brother, Sam.” “I didn’t know you had a brother. Is he your only sibling?” “Yeah. It’s just the two of us.” A big man comes in and fills the screen, beefy with a large gut. He grabs Ty by the wrist and swings him up into his arms, causing the little boy to drop his guita
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE I follow Ty through the apartment, and he brings me into his family room. He flicks on the television and messes around with something in a nearby cabinet and then comes back over to hand me a small black box. “Go ahead and have a seat,” he says. I look down at what’s in my hands. “Are we going to play video games?” “Yeah. Do you like ’em?” He presses some buttons on his controller as he aims it at the TV. Several screens flash by. “I’ve never played one before.” He pauses. “You’re not serious.” He’s looking at me and smiling like a little kid. “No, I am serious. I almost never watch TV either.” He walks over and flips a switch on the wall, leaving just the dim glow from the television to light the room. “I’ll try to take it easy on you, since this is your first time.” “I am a video game virgin.” The words come out before I think too hard about what they could mean for us. He smiles devilishly. “Is that so?” “Can we forget I just said that?” “Not on your life.” He ta
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO This is my first time in a recording studio. Before arriving, I had only a vague idea of what to expect. This one, being in Manhattan, is pretty small, though, I think. There’s a booth with a large window at the end of the long, narrow room. It has a collection of things inside it, mostly instruments and microphone stands with headphones hanging next to them. Outside the booth on one side of the room are couches, chairs, and small tables, plus a few mini fridges, and on the other side, across from the furniture, are various mixing boards and computer screens with two seats in front of them. There are windows above the furniture, making it possible to look out at other brick buildings in this more industrial area of the city. Ty and I walk in together, but we’re not holding hands. That would be totally weird. The car ride over here was strange enough. There’s nothing like that awkward day after unplanned sex together when you can’t really talk because somebody else is
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE I’m standing in front of the group of men again, still without Ty, but I have a lot more confidence now and newfound hope that things just might work out. “Okay, so that was a good little meeting.” Cash looks over at Red. “And he’s only missing part of his ass. You failed to chew it all off.” I smile. As if I could ever chew these guys out. “Ha, ha. Very funny. But seriously . . . let’s talk about Ty while he’s not here.” “He’s gonna love that,” Paul says, rolling his eyes. “No, he probably won’t if all he hears is that we talked about him behind his back. But when I have a chance to tell him what we discussed, I don’t think he’s going to be too upset.” “I’m not sure if you know him well enough to say that,” Mooch says. “The kid is pretty sensitive.” “Maybe because you keep calling him a kid and treating him like one.” I give him the look that my mother gives me when I’m being sassy. He presses his lips together and nods slowly. “From my perspective, which is total
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR I enter the lobby of the Four Seasons, searching for James. I’m confident he’ll be able to direct me to a hairdresser who can solve my problem. My first stop is the check-in counter. The receptionist directs me to a special office where I find James sitting behind a desk shuffling papers. He looks up at me and smiles. “Hello, Ms. Fields. It’s nice to see you again.” “You too, James. I’m here to see if you can help me out with something.” He stands and points at the chair across from his desk. “Please, have a seat. I’ll do whatever I can.” “Cool.” I sit down and arrange my fancy purse on my lap before I begin. “I have a group of men who need new haircuts. These are people who have been living in the eighties all their lives, so I need somebody who can do an updated look but not something so shocking that they can’t adjust to it.” He folds his hands in front of him, resting them on the desk as he nods. “Let me think about this for a couple seconds.” I know I’ve come t
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE Aft
er chatting with the hairdresser and securing an evening appointment tomorrow for the entire band, I finally have time to talk to my sisters. I press the speed dial button and pray they’ll pick up as I walk down the sidewalk. Mr. Gerald Blake is on his way back to the Four Seasons alone; I need some time to get my head straight. “Hello?” “Rose? Is that you?” “Yes! Amber, I’m so glad you called. I was starting to get worried about you.” “Why? I’m fine.” “Because . . . you haven’t called in a while, and I know you have a lot of news.” “You’re right. I do.” I fill her in on the details, including the fact that the band is about to start their makeover tomorrow. “That’s pretty amazing that you were able to get them appointments in one day. I thought those New York hairdressers had waiting lists.” “This one does, but when you walk in and say you need to get a bunch of celebrity haircuts, the waiting list gets a lot shorter. Normally, they close at eight o’clock at nig
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX I’m about twenty feet from the front door of the Four Seasons when a woman who I think is going to walk right past me stops and smiles. It’s a little disconcerting, but I sidestep, smile back, and continue on. “Excuse me . . . ,” she says loudly from behind me. I pause and turn around. “Yes?” She’s definitely talking to me; she’s staring right at my face as she positions herself in front of me. “Hello. Are you, by any chance, Amber Fields?” I stare at her, blinking in shock. I don’t recognize her as an employee of the hotel, but she knows me by name, so she must be. “Yes, I am.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a small black device. “Hi. I’m Elizabeth Mathers from OMG News. I hear you’re dating the lead guitarist for Red Hot, Ty Stanz. Is this true?” My jaw drops open. I thought the black thing in her hand was a cell phone, because it looks a little bit like mine, but now I realize it’s not a phone at all; it’s some sort of recorder. “Who did you say you are ag
