Managing The Rock Star (Not So Bad Boys Book 1)

by Emma St Clair

  “You like your work?”

  Reese set down her slice. It was impossible to keep answering his questions with a mouthful of cheese. Sterling James was asking her questions. She had to push away the thought so she could appear like a normal, rational person having a conversation over pizza. It felt normal. Until she remembered how she used to fall asleep with a poster of him above her bed. Definitely needed to push that thought back.

  “I like what I do, but I don’t think I’ll stay at Azul long. I hope not, anyway.”

  “Why not? Do you miss Texas?”

  “I love Nashville. Texas will always feel like home. But I didn’t mind getting some distance between me and my family.”

  “Can I ask why?”

  Reese made a face. “Nothing serious. I mean, my parents are still married and they are really great. It’s just … I’ve got a big sister, Rachel. Just two years older than me. But she’s a beauty queen. Literally: Miss Texas. I pretty much grew up in her shadow. People always compared us. And it wasn’t like I wanted to be a beauty queen, but it was like everyone had to make sure I knew I couldn’t be. I had to be the smart one.”

  Sterling’s face was tight and his eyes seemed darker, almost angry. “Reese, you are beautiful. I’m sorry they made you feel that you weren’t.”

  Sterling James just called me beautiful. Reese tried to make her brain move past that thought. “You don’t need to say that. I mean, I’m comfortable in my skin now, even if I’m no Rachel. But it’s like, even after she was done competing and all that, I still couldn’t keep up. She got married her senior year of college to a doctor. He was an intern then. Full doctor now. They’ve got two kids, both gorgeous, of course. And then there’s me.”

  “You don’t need to be married or have kids to have value, Reese. Being a smart girl, I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that, but I’m telling you anyway.”

  Reese couldn’t keep the smile off her face. To deflect a little, she looked down at the untouched piece of pizza. She hadn’t meant to unload all this on Sterling. Earlier it was Johnboy. Now she was sharing her personal insecurities. And he was being so nice. She couldn’t quite get her head around this moment.

  “Thanks for saying that,” she said. “The thing is: I want that life. I want to get married to someone that I could see myself waking up to every morning for the rest of my life. Raising a family. Not the way Rachel is. My own way. But still, when people compare us, it makes me feel unsatisfied with my life and impatient for things.”

  As if Sterling could sense how hard it was for her to talk about this, he shifted the subject. “You mentioned that you like what you do, but you don’t want to stay at Azul. Why not?”

  “My job is fantastic. My boss is just … I don’t know. He’s not a people person. I don’t really jibe with his style either. I’m not sure I fully trust him. He’s pretty much in the old PR world of spin. I like to keep things a bit more authentic wherever possible. My hope is to go out on my own and manage clients and accounts freelance.”

  “Why don’t you just do that now?”

  “If I want to get my foot in the door with musicians and other bigger clients, I need the backing of someone reputable. People like you aren’t going to just randomly run across a solo person handling accounts. Not unless there is some serious word of mouth going on. How about you? Do you love your job? Based on tonight, I would say yes.”

  Sterling wiped his mouth, looking up to the ceiling in thought. She had expected a quick yes. The joy he found in his work was obvious when he came off the stage earlier tonight. But on day two of the tour and the first concert, Reese knew she didn’t know the half of it yet.

  He dropped a crust on a napkin. There was a pile of six there. Six! How had he eaten six slices in that little time? Reese resisted the urge to take his crusts. She loved eating other people’s crusts. But that felt a few steps too intimate.

  “I love some of it. I don’t want to complain, because I have been very fortunate to have the success and opportunities I’ve had. I mean, going from a normal high school kid writing songs in my bedroom and posting them on YouTube to packed stadiums—that’s like the dream. But it’s hard, too. You give up a lot.”

  His voice dropped as he finished talking. Reese could see his thoughts traveling somewhere else. Clearly there was something that weighed on him much more than what they had hired her to take care of with his image and the stress over a possible rebrand. The nosy part of her wanted to press him about what he had given up, but he probably had tons of people he could talk to about his personal life. He might think she was butting in. Of course, he had just asked some personal questions … but maybe it was time to stop being so personal.

  “Should we get started?”

  Sterling nodded and stacked the pizza boxes and cleaned up the table while she set up her laptop. He had finished the questionnaire, but Reese hadn’t had time to go over it yet. She skimmed his answers as he returned to the table, holding out a bottled water. As she took it, their fingers brushed. Even that slight touch sent heat to Reese’s skin. Sterling just had that physical appeal. Good thing the table was between them.

  But as they spent the next forty-five minutes going over his answers and more questions that she had related to his brand and social media usage, his bare foot found hers under the table. She had kicked off her sandals when they sat down.

  At first it was an accidental bump and he pulled away, both of them smiling across the table. “Sorry,” he had said.

  A few minutes later, his foot returned, stopping just inches shy of hers, though she could sense it there. She could have pulled away, but instead, felt drawn to lean her leg a little, angling her foot closer. When the side of his foot brushed hers, Reese avoided looking at him, focusing on her computer screen as she typed. It was clearly an intentional move, but one they could both pretend not to notice.

  When his foot shifted again so that his toes covered hers, Reese felt her entire body shudder to a halt. Her fingers froze over the keys, eyes on the blinking cursor in front of her. Even her breathing hitched in her chest. Slowly she dragged her eyes up to meet Sterling’s gaze. His hazel eyes sparkled with humor and a small smile lifted one corner of his mouth, as though he was daring her to say something about the small touch.

  Her thoughts were moving too fast for her mouth to catch up, even if she wanted to respond. It was a tiny touch. Not an inherently romantic one, though Reese couldn’t remember the last time she had touched someone else’s foot at all, in a friendly way or otherwise.

  Did this mean something to him? Probably not. Even though Morgan said he had changed, he had a history that involved probably a lot of women and a lot more than foot touching. This meant something to Reese, even though it was such a tiny thing. She tried to push through the fuzziness that had settled into her brain and ignore the tingling in her limbs. It was just a touch. From Sterling James.

  She had to stop thinking about him like that. Like Sterling James, the famous rock star. Most of the time now she didn’t. He was simply Sterling, the incredibly handsome, sometimes moody guy who happened to have a job playing music in front of thousands of screaming fans. But every so often the realization hit her of exactly who he was and she had to reconcile the guy across from her with the guy whose music she knew by heart. It was more than a little disconcerting, even though she was starting to feel more comfortable around him. Especially now that he didn’t think of her as some rabid fan.

  How did he think of her? Yesterday he had told her that she wasn’t his type. Had that only been yesterday? Morgan was right in saying that time on tour moved differently.

  Her thoughts moved from what he had said to how he had been standing when he said it. So close that all she could think about was what it might feel like to bridge that distance and feel her lips against his. Thinking about that now while his foot sat on top of hers was dangerous. He had said she wasn’t his type. He was a client. This should be a non-issue.

  And then
there was Morgan. They hadn’t known each other long, but Reese really liked her. And was going to spend the next two months with her as well as Sterling. Maybe she hadn’t spoken her feelings out loud, but Reese could see them very clearly. What would happen to their friendship if Reese and Sterling started dating? How did you even date on a tour bus?

  What would happen to her job if the public got wind that Sterling was dating her? Kevin would fire her in an instant. Even if she didn’t want to stay with Azul long-term, she needed to do a good enough job that Sterling would recommend her so that she could freelance and get clients by word of mouth.

  Reese considered pulling her foot away. But how harmful could it be to just let her foot stay where it was? It’s not like he was holding her hand or something overtly romantic. She knew that she was justifying, but in that moment, she just didn’t care. She craved his touch.

  His phone buzzed to life on the table and he checked the screen, his lips turning down. “I’ve got to take this.” He stood and her skin was screaming at the loss of contact as he made his way out to the balcony. “Hey, Mom.”

  Sterling hadn’t mentioned his family at all. Because she knew basically all Sterling James facts and trivia, Reese remembered that his mom lived somewhere near L.A. with his younger sister, who might be high school age. Morgan had mentioned that his dad was an alcoholic and had left them when Sterling was younger, but Reese didn’t know details.

  He was probably a great older brother. She remembered seeing the sweet way he interacted with the younger fan at the meet-and-greet last weekend. He had made her feel special, focusing all his attention just on her. That was part of the reason she had made him write what he did on her photo. Because in her glass-of-wine-haze, her ovaries had been working overtime as she had watched the interaction. It had her thinking only of Sterling holding a little girl with his hazel eyes and brown hair like hers.

  Reese closed her eyes. She probably needed to get out of this room. She needed space from Sterling. His magnetism on its own pulled her tightly to him. But the smiles and the joking banter and the way he’d put his foot on hers—it was too overwhelming for her heart to handle. Unless she wanted to lose it all to him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sterling stepped out onto the balcony, wanting to put as much distance as possible between this conversation with his mother and whatever he had been feeling in there with Reese. The giddy lightness that had descended over him just being around her crashed to the ground as soon as he saw his mother’s name on the phone screen.

  “James, how are you?”

  His mother likely had no idea where he was on tour. They didn’t get into specifics about his life anymore. That had stopped after this first year in the business, when she used to ask about his songs, his shows, and how he was really doing. Sterling didn’t know if the shift had to do with May or something else, but the distance between them was cavernous. It shouldn’t still hurt. To be fair, he didn’t know what was going on in her life either.

  “Fine. How’s May?”

  She sighed. “The same. But we have a date for the intervention. We’re doing it in ten days.”

  “Why wait? Why not right away?”

  “We were waiting for a spot to open up at Calm Springs. It’s a rehab facility nearby that specializes in addiction in young people. They have a very high success rate. We were on the waiting list and they called today that they’ll have a spot open for May then.”

  Her words got faster as she went, a sign of nerves. More specifically, a sign that the place was expensive, and she was about to give the big ask. He could at least make that easier on her.

  “Just let me know who to call to set it up.”

  “There’s a reservation fee—”

  “It’s fine. I’ll cover it. Where is the intervention?”

  “We’re having it at home.”

  “Who is involved in this?” Sterling didn’t even know who his family was close to now. May’s friends were obviously worthless if they were helping or watching her go down this path. But as far as family friends and adults or people that might be involved in an intervention like this, he had no idea. The thought made him realize how long it had been since he went home.

  “Your Aunt Rebeeca and May’s old art teacher and her best friend Sara.”

  “They’re still close?” Sterling remembered Sara, a sweet, awkward girl with braces and legs that had looked too long for her body when she had been thirteen.

  “Not so much anymore. But Sara has always been a faithful friend and she cares about May.”

  It seemed like such a small group of support for something so consequential. He should be there too.

  “I want to come. This is important and I want her to know that I care. I want to help.”

  He could almost feel the shift in tone before his mother spoke. “I really don’t think it would be a good idea. May is making her choices, but the impetus for all this was your career. You being here might really set her off. I think she holds a lot of anger. Negative emotions are not a good thing in these kinds of situations.”

  “Have you asked her how she feels? Or is this just what you think?”

  “I think I know what’s best for May. You haven’t been here for us in years. It would be disruptive to pretend like you are actually part of the family.”

  His hand gripped the balcony railing tighter. Though he had well-developed callouses from playing guitar for years, after a show—especially the first few on a tour, his hands were a little more sensitive. Not sore, but just aware they’d been used. The metal railing dragged over his skin and he felt a sting of pain.

  “Just text me the info and I’ll make sure it’s paid for.”

  “Take care, James.”

  “Sure, Mom.”

  He heard an intake of breath, like she might say something else, and he hung up the phone before she got a chance. Sliding the phone into the back pocket of his jeans, Sterling leaned his elbows on the rail. The suite, nice as it was, looked over a parking lot. The tour bus was in back, parked over almost a whole row of spaces.

  A couple argued down below and Sterling watched as they emerged from the building and walked out to a car, gesturing with their hands. He couldn’t hear the specifics, but recognized the tone. When they got to the car, the man suddenly turned and wrapped the woman up in his arms. They stood there for a few seconds, quietly hugging. Then he pressed his lips to her cheek and held the door open for her. Sterling saw a flash of a smile on her face under the harsh parking lot lights.

  Most people thought arguing meant that you didn’t get along. Lots of people avoided arguments and conflict. Sterling knew that arguments were actually a sign of love. You cared about someone enough to get passionate about what they were doing, saying, or feeling. His conversations with his mother weren’t arguments like that. They were one-sided. She created a boundary or wall and he butted up against it until he gave up. It wasn’t the same. There was no hug or kiss at the end, no promise of love.

  The balcony doors opened behind him. “Sterling?”

  He had forgotten for a moment about Reese. He didn’t turn. “Yep.”

  “I think we’re probably good for the night. I was going to head back down to my room and get a last good night of sleep before I’m tucked into the coffin bunk on the tour bus.”

  “Okay.”

  Sterling knew he was being short with her, but he couldn’t shake the bitter taste in his mouth. A nice, normal woman like Reese didn’t deserve the hell he’d unleash on her life if he dated her. It was out of the question.

  Maybe she wouldn’t end up like May, but Sterling had seen the way being linked to him had impacted people. It wasn’t healthy for them.

  Reese put a hand on his arm. The touch jolted through him and his whole body stiffened. She hesitated and he thought she might pull away, but she leaned closer instead, pressing her palm against his forearm. That simple, kind touch conveyed a whole host of emotion. Sterling turned his head away, staring
over toward a fast-food place next to the parking lot.

  “Do you want to talk?”

  The question almost broke him. If she had asked if he was okay, it would have been different. That was a common question and an easier one to wiggle out of, pretending things were fine. She skipped right over that, sensing that he wasn’t okay and offering him an outlet to talk about it.

  The moment stretched out while he debated, feeling like a much longer time than it realistically could have been. Sterling felt poised on the edge of something, like he had to make a choice right now. Either choice would change things.

  “My sister, May, she’s … addicted. Pills, alcohol, I’m not even sure what. My mom is staging an intervention for her.”

  “When do you have to go?”

  Sterling’s smile was bitter. He looked down at his hands when he answered. “They don’t want me there. My mom was just calling to make sure I could pay for rehab.”

  Reese pulled her hand away and Sterling instantly felt disappointed. But relieved, too. He had shifted into that dangerous place where he felt like he didn’t deserve anything good. Only pain. Loneliness. Harsh treatment. She should pull away. She should just go.

  But then Reese ducked under his arm, standing between him and the balcony. He straightened in surprise and saw her determined expression before she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest. It only took a moment for his arms to drop over her. He put a palm against the small of her back and another closer to her shoulders where it tangled immediately in her hair. It felt just as silky as he had imagined. He closed his eyes and dropped his cheek to the top of her head. She smelled like toffee and springtime. She smelled like hope.