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

by Emma St Clair

  At first, she looked like she was trying to fight her way to a waiting Uber, but then she stopped just before the car. Rather than answer questions, she just started talking and they mostly listened, shouting out questions that she mostly ignored.

  “The truth is that Sterling isn’t seeing any of us. He isn’t the father of that baby, and DNA will prove that as soon as the baby is born. Morgan is just his best friend and I barely know him.”

  “Those kisses say otherwise! Were you and Sterling in a relationship?”

  “Again, we barely know each other. I was hired to help him with his social media and image. All of this is really my fault. The idea was that a bad-boy image might help with sales. There is a lot of pressure to fit into a certain rock star mold. But the truth is that Sterling is a really, really good guy. And an incredibly talented musician, as his sold-out tour shows.”

  “I look like a hot mess,” Reese said to Staci, who immediately hit pause.

  “You look gorgeous. Now hush,” Staci said, starting it up again.

  The clip played on. “It was stupid to try and spin his image. His fans are smart enough to like Sterling whether he is a bad-boy rocker or a good guy. They’ll stick with him whether he’s playing his old hits or moving into a new sound, like what he’s been showcasing on this tour at the end of every show. The truth is always better than lies, and all this was completely my fault. I messed up. It was a bad PR plan and I take full responsibility for it.”

  “Tell us the truth—were your feelings for Sterling real?”

  Reese wanted to cover her eyes rather than watch the way her mouth opened and closed and how her eyes darted from side to side in the video.

  “Honestly? I don’t know how any woman could spend time with him and not fall for him. He’s amazing.”

  The two hosts for the show came back on the screen, talking about Reese and calling her the Spin Doctor before Staci paused it. “Ugh. Spin Doctor? Is that what they’re calling me?”

  “I know, right? I personally would have gone for something having to do more with Reese’s, like the chocolate and peanut butter.”

  “That’s dumb too,” Reese said. “So, did that sound believable? I was able to say everything and not lie. Sort of push the truth a bit, but like 95% truth.”

  “You were just vague enough saying ‘the’ idea instead of ‘my’ idea, so you didn’t throw Kevin under the bus. You avoided answering the ‘in a relationship’ question effectively by saying you barely know each other, which is true. It sounded a little rehearsed. But then, I know you. I could tell the difference in that last part, though. You know, where you basically confessed your undying love for him.”

  Reese covered her face with a pillow. “I hope that this helps. I feel like it gets him out of hot water for being a cheater and will allow him to come clean about Morgan, while blaming me for the whole thing. I can just disappear, and no one will care in a few weeks.”

  “You also did a good job not outing the label for trying to pigeonhole him. But you dropped the idea of a new musical direction, while highlighting the success of this one. You’re brilliant. You know that, right? They should use this as an example in PR classes.”

  “Yeah. Brilliant, but my own life is a mess.”

  Staci took her hand. “We’ll figure it out. Have you talked to him yet?”

  Reese shook her head. “My phone is off. I can’t handle it today.”

  “What happened, though? I mean, I talked to you and one minute you were giddy and then you’ve broken up and now you’re here. What am I missing?”

  Reese thought of Sterling’s face as he stood in the hallway that morning. His whole body, so tensed with anger. It had been less about her and more about his own battles. She knew that. But she also knew that she couldn’t fix him. Right now, with whatever he was going through in his own internal struggle, a relationship was the last thing he needed. She couldn’t be with someone who flew into a rage over the idea of prayer. Sterling was wounded. Maybe if he wasn’t so wounded or was even open, not closed off. But he was.

  She shook her head. “We talked more, and it became clear that he has some baggage—maybe a lot of baggage. And anger. I don’t think he could handle a relationship. I definitely couldn’t be with him the way he is right now. It wouldn’t be healthy for either of us. It was just a silly dream.”

  Staci leaned her head on Reese’s shoulder. “Aw, sweetie. I’m so sorry. Maybe …”

  “Nope. I’m not going to let myself think of maybes. I’ll turn on my phone tomorrow and deal with the fallout of all this. Tonight I need sleep. And probably to text Morgan and tell her I won’t be back.”

  “I’m sure Kevin has already been in contact with her.”

  “Oh, right. I’ll call him in the morning. Then we’ll look for new jobs and see if it’s a better idea just to move back home. But I really like Nashville. I’d rather stay.”

  “Me too. Austin’s not so bad, though.”

  “No, it’s not. As long as we can be together, I’m okay. I’m sorry I messed up all our chances to start our own company, though. I’ll be black-balled for sure after this.”

  “It’s okay, honey. That was your dream, not mine. I’d work for you, but I want to find a guy, settle down, and have a bunch of babies. Does that sound very 1950s of me?”

  “I was just thinking yesterday that I might fit in at an Amish community. Maybe we should move to Pennsylvania. Sorry—back to you. If you find the right guy and just want to be professionally married or professionally momming, who cares.”

  “Would it be weird if that guy is Moby?”

  She smiled at Staci. Reese had suspected that things were moving along with the two of them. Moby had seemed even happier the last few days and Staci had been unusually quiet. “You really like him, don’t you?”

  “I do. I feel like we’ve known each other forever even though we haven’t met. I think he’s going to fly here and see me the next three-day break on the tour. I just don’t want it to be too hard on you if it reminds you of Sterling.”

  “Everything reminds me of Sterling. I’ll be fine. I want you to be happy and you being happy makes me happy. Moby is a really great guy.”

  “Yeah, he is.” Staci got a dreamy expression on her face and Reese excused herself, saying that she was jet-lagged as she went to her room. But the truth was that she was heart-broken. And while she meant what she said about being happy for Staci, seeing the happiness on her face was only a painful reminder of how she had felt that same way, only to have her happiness yanked away as fast as it had been given to her.

  As she sobbed into her pillow, trying to muffle the sounds so Staci wouldn’t barge in and try to comfort her, she prayed.

  Lord, I should have sought you first in all this. Maybe it would have turned out differently. Help heal my heart. And if you’ve got someone out there for me, make it obvious that he’s the right one. Don’t let me make dumb choices without you again.

  * * *

  When Sterling got back to the tour bus after a bumpy flight to Denver, he hoped to find Reese, not Morgan, in his room. As he walked onto the bus, the reactions from the guys were way more chill than he expected. It was a practiced calm, a little too forced, but he was at least glad that he didn’t have to answer any questions. They obviously had heard about the news stories and had been instructed not to say anything.

  When he had finally gotten the chance to look at the headlines in his hotel room, he saw all the photos of him kissing Reese. This made him look like he was cheating on Morgan and gave more credit to the whole baby-Daddy story. They both knew this was a possibility but hadn’t anticipated telephoto lenses catching them on her hotel balcony or out by the pool.

  Morgan spun at the sound of the door opening. Crossing the room, she threw her arms around him. “I’m so sorry about all of this,” she said. “Are you okay? I can’t even believe it.”

  “Yeah, me neither.” He pulled back and dropped his suitcase. Morgan sat down in a chai
r and Sterling sank onto the bed. Where was Reese?

  Sterling had gotten back to the hotel after seeing May off and went straight to Reese’s room. But housekeeping had been cleaning it out. The front desk said that she had turned in her key card. He found the note in his room after asking at the front desk. If he felt bad before about how he behaved, he felt worse now. Especially seeing how she signed the note. Love, Reese.

  Did she … love him? Or was that just how she ended notes? He put it in his pocket, wanting to keep it close until he saw her. He tried calling Reese a few times, but phone went straight to voicemail and the voice mailbox was full. He wouldn’t have left a message anyway. His emotions weren’t trustworthy at the moment. For now, the note was all he had. He assumed she got to the airport and took an earlier flight. They left from LAX all day long.

  “Where’s Reese?” Sterling asked, sinking down onto his bed. Morgan gave him space, staying across the room. Hopefully this meant that they were done with the whole fake relationship debacle.

  “She didn’t come back with you?” Morgan asked.

  Sterling felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to his gut. A shaky breath escaped. “She was gone this morning after—uh, she left sometime earlier this morning. I thought she’d be here, doing damage control or whatever it is she does.”

  Morgan looked a little sad. “Her boss called. You are no longer her client.”

  “He fired her?”

  “I guess? Or at least she isn’t working for you anymore. Her boss hadn’t heard from her either. Maybe she went home? Probably trying to lay low after what she said to the paparazzi.”

  “She talked to them?”

  Morgan blinked at him. “You haven’t seen it?”

  Sterling shook his head. “I’ve been ignoring everything since I left. The last time I looked at anything was a few hours ago.”

  “Right. They probably aired it while you were flying. You should watch. Sit down. I’ll pull it up on my tablet.”

  Sterling ran his hands through his hair, raking his fingernails over his scalp, trying to take all of this in. Reese had left this morning—why? Because she was worried about her job? Because she was upset with him? She had sent that message about praying and then nothing else. No one had heard from her, which made a queasy worry move through him.

  “Here it is,” Morgan said, sitting down beside him. Her hair brushed his arm and all Sterling could think about was the day before, how he had been able to finally touch Reese’s silky hair. The sense of loss shocked him.

  When the clip was over, Sterling sat stock-still, his palms on his knees. “I don’t understand.”

  Morgan gave him a sad smile. “It’s genius, really. She came out looking like the bad guy, you look like an amazing guy, and she gave a call-to-action for your fans to support you and even kind of a nod to the labels to pay attention to your new music.”

  Sterling could see it all, then, and it made a feeling of love and gratitude bloom in his chest. “I have to talk to her.”

  “What exactly happened in L.A.?” Morgan asked. “Also, I guess we are officially not fake-together. It was nice not-actually-dating you.”

  Sterling choked out a laugh, but all he could think about was Reese. Where was she? Why had she done this for him when he had been so horrible to her?

  “What if she’s not okay? I mean, her phone’s been off all day. She didn’t call you, she hasn’t talked to her boss, and she didn’t take my calls. What if something happened to her?”

  “Sterling, I think this seems like a goodbye.” She put a hand on his arm.

  But all Sterling could see was Reese’s reaction when they asked her if she really had feelings for him. He could see it in her face. It was the only time in the interview that she was out of control. She did have feelings for him. He had hurt her, but if she was upset, she wouldn’t have taken the fall for him. He had to talk to her. Standing, he went through the bunk room and back to the lounge, where Moby was hanging out with Chuck and David.

  “Moby, I need a favor.”

  “Anything, boss,” Moby said.

  “Can you call Staci and just make sure Reese is okay? I can’t reach her and no one else has been able to either. Not even her boss.”

  Moby hesitated, then leaned forward and picked up his phone. Sterling had seen him video-chatting with Staci most of the time, but today he just called. David and Chuck disappeared back into the bunk room. Obviously, everyone knew what was going on. That was one of the things he hated most about his job. When he did become the center of the public eye, it was like everyone knew his business.

  “Hey, baby,” he said, smiling. “I’ve got a very worried rock star diva over here who wants me to check on your girl Reese.”

  Sterling could only hear Moby’s side of the conversation and the sound of a woman’s voice in the spaces between. He felt like his nerves were going to burn through his skin. Moby chuckled. “Yeah, baby. I know.” His eyes flicked up to Sterling. “You too. Bye, baby.”

  Fists clenched to his thighs, Sterling stared at Moby as he set the phone down. “Well?”

  “Reese is back in Nashville. She flew back after everything blew up. Staci said she’s cool but taking a few days off from everything.”

  “What does that mean? Everything? Like, work stuff or she doesn’t want to talk to me?”

  Moby gave him a half smile. “Staci said she probably needed some space.”

  Sterling nodded and went back to his room without saying another word. Thankfully Morgan was gone. He didn’t think that he could talk to anyone else. The emotional tempest of the last two days was swirling around him and he was exhausted. He had a show tomorrow night and needed to get his head straight.

  Space. That was the kind of thing people said when they were breaking up. Another kind of it’s-not-you-it’s-me kind of explanation.

  He knew he hadn’t imagined the way Reese felt about him. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to know her. Being without her today felt like someone had ripped off his arm and now he was just supposed to act like a fully-functioning human. He didn’t know if he could pretend that well.

  Even if he had only known her for a short time, even if their official “relationship” had lasted all of twenty-four hours, Sterling knew that this was different. He would not be getting over Reese anytime soon. The last thing he wanted was space. Not an hour away, not even an inch.

  If she wanted space, it looked like maybe she didn’t want him to win her back. But he didn’t know how he couldn’t at least try.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Sterling kept the guitar over his shoulder as he walked to the front of the stage, waving and smiling to his fans. He spent a little more time tonight and even bent down where he could reach to touch a young girl’s hand. Her father had braved the area closest to the stage just to get her near. Sterling’s sound wasn’t hard enough for a really wild mosh pit or anything, but still. The girl had brown hair, but big blue eyes that shone when he squeezed her hand. She made him think of May and a smile lit his face.

  Since this was his last show, he could fly back out to L.A. soon to see her. They were driving back to Nashville tomorrow and he would fly back to California in two days. He didn’t want to think back to the very first time he visited, where May was still in withdrawal. But her weak smile and careful way she had carried herself were gone at his last visit, replaced by a huge grin and a bounce in her step. Her eyes had been bright and clearer, and she laughed long and loud with him.

  May was changing. And she wasn’t the only one.

  “Good night, Charlotte!” Sterling shouted. “Thank you for coming out and for supporting my music. You guys know how to close out a tour!”

  More screams. People held up phones with the lit screens shining toward him and his bandmates joined him out front for one last bow. At one time, this had been the high point of his life: performing a great show. But almost immediately after, a crash had followed, every single time. As soon
as the adrenaline left his body, Sterling would go back to a tour bus or an empty hotel room and remember that the joy was short-lived. He would have to do it all again. Crowds were fickle. They could turn on him at any time. Then what would he have?

  The post-performance depression he sometimes had was just one of the things he had talked about with his therapist. Because of his schedule, they had sessions over the phone, not in-person. Sterling thought that might be weird, but he was much more open to sharing this way. He found it easier to be honest. Morgan had recommended the service when he mentioned wanting to get counseling.

  “I’m proud of you, big guy,” she had said when he enlisted her help. They had finally gotten back to normal, the weirdness of their fake dating gone. Morgan had met someone as well while on the road—a guitarist for another band they played with at a show in Seattle. That took away some of the tension as well, letting them fall back into their easy friendship. Sterling was glad. Between Moby, his therapist, and Morgan, he had a lot of listening ears.

  Sterling wouldn’t say that he had fully dealt with his anger toward his father. But he had made strides. He was still working. He would say the same thing about his faith. It wasn’t the childlike wonder he’d had when he was young, before his father left. He asked a lot more questions and challenged more things but was open and could sense God working in him. The fact that he believed in God again would have shocked him a few months ago. Coming to this point made him realize that he had been fighting for years. He didn’t realize how exhausting it had been until he let go.

  Moby surprised Sterling by telling him that he grew up in the church. He had fallen away a bit as well and Staci had challenged him to reconnect with God. In the back lounge of the tour bus, Sterling and Moby had long and sometimes impassioned debates about the Bible. These discussions had really helped bring the words to life for Sterling. Faith was not weak, as he had thought to himself for years. For him, faith was engaging daily with his doubts and fears and his shortcomings. Sterling felt like he was really living for the first time he could really remember.