by Bryce Oakley
“Very convincing,” Jake joked.
Collins scoffed, but still couldn’t stop grinning.
“Okay, okay. But maybe I could swing by sometime while you’re at work here in Denver ‘not making friends’?” Jake said with a laugh.
“Aw, it’s nice to have dreams,” Collins teased. “Alright, I have to get back to The Whiny Boys.”
“Oh, wait, it’s Just Beyond’s studio day?” Jake asked, his voice pitching higher.
Collins grinned. She couldn’t help feeling better about her choice to work with the band if it made her brother happy.
“Are they just as good in person as they are on the album?” Jake asked.
Collins held back a laugh. “Yeah, even I was surprised,” she lied. One white lie for Jake wouldn’t hurt anything, surely.
She and Jake had always been close growing up. Being close in age they usually had similar interests, and they both shared a deep love of classic country music. In fact, for Jake’s birthday, Collins was trying to come up with a fantastic, if not ridiculous gift. She had already ordered a Dolly Parton coloring book, but she needed more. Maybe she could find a Loretta Lynn pop socket on Etsy?
"Tell them I love them,” Jake said quickly.
“Sure will,” Collins lied again with a laugh.
They said goodbye as she hung up the phone.
The time outside of the studio had helped just as much as she thought it would. She was doing the right thing by going to Denver to work with The Shrikes, even if only as a good excuse to go home and see Jake and her family.
As she headed back in the front door, she put her work face back on. As goofy and carefree as she could be with her brother, that just wasn’t an option at work. And she definitely had her work cut out for her on Just Beyond’s album.
Collins took some deep, calming breaths and massaged her temples with her middle fingers. Her head was killing her after struggling with Just Beyond’s studio time all day, but she would never miss a work meeting for anything less than hospitalization.
She sat in the back corner of a rather dark and tiny martini bar. Not the martini type, she had ordered a scotch, which pissed off the bartender and ultimately made her enjoy her drink even more.
This was a particularly important meeting, because she was going to get more information from her inside source about The Shrikes project.
It wasn’t exactly common knowledge that Collins and Micah were related. Not related-related, Collins’ sister was married to Micah’s brother.
Collins never asked Micah to cross any lines or anything, but she was all for asking for nepotism when it was acceptable.
“Hi Collins,” Micah said, sweeping into a seat across from her. “Love those Ferragamo shoes.” Micah always looked put together, but she looked particularly stunning in a pencil skirt and perfectly arranged hair, already sipping a martini in her hand.
“Thanks,” Collins said. They were Collins’ favorite shoes, so at least Micah had good taste. “Now, tell me what’s happening with Sanders.”
“So much for small talk,” Micah rolled her eyes.
Collins cleared her throat.
Micah took a deep breath. “The powers that be would consider you for the role of director if it doesn’t work out with Sanders,” she held up a hand and silenced Collins before she could interrupt.
Micah continued, “Obviously I don’t know if it will work out with Sanders. All I know is what’s been circulating the rumor mill. I had my assistant call his assistant but he wasn’t able to get much more than we had already heard. It seems that Sanders is having a hard time. The phrase ‘mental breakdown’ has been floated. But the most likely of the rumors is that he’s on a bender again.” She paused.
Collins tried to keep her expression flat, sipping at the smoky drink in her hand. She wasn’t glad about Sanders’ hard time — she wasn’t a total monster. She knew about Sanders’ reputation. He’d done it a few times, and he’d pissed off a lot of powerful people along the way because it always happened at the worst possible times.
“There was a rumor that the whole debacle with that mini-series last year was because he got scolded for mistreating the actresses, and then instead of cleaning up his act and apologizing, he went on a three day long binge. He didn’t call or check in or anything, just disappeared. Then he had the nerve to act surprised that they fired his ass. He’s just always been a jackass,” Micah added.
Collins nodded, keeping quiet for a few moments before responding; she knew all the rumors, of course, but she had been trying not to get her hopes up. She was a very well respected music producer — she was very good at directing each aspect of a song so it would all come together seamlessly and highlight the best from each musician.
Wasn’t directing a music special the same thing? Hadn’t she been preparing for this new role all along without even knowing it?
Collins knew The Shrikes live show was the biggest break she could possibly hope for. And she secretly hoped everyone would take her even more seriously when she added director to her long resumé.
It was hard to break into a new business, and as similar as she found the two jobs, it was a completely different business.
She was thankful that she had Micah to give her more information when she could.
“I appreciate you telling me all this, Micah. Hopefully we figure out where he is and can move on to me directing,” Collins said with more confidence than she felt.
Micah sipped at her martini. “We’ll see,” she said.
“What do you mean?” Collins asked, suddenly wary.
Micah shrugged. “Nothing. We’ll just have to see what happens,” she said.
Collins knew that Micah was alluding to something, but didn’t press her further.
She’d make this happen, come hell, high water, or the four stubborn women of The Shrikes who might think otherwise.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Meg
Meg stood on the second floor of the newest trendy spot in LA, some club with a one word name — Mystery or Mystere or Mister or whatever — watching the people on the dance floor below.
It was early, but the club was already busy. Surprising for a place where most people didn’t even start getting ready until 10pm.
She was happy that she had decided on her favorite boots for tonight. Meg’s style could be best described as comfortable clothes, and usually they were clean.
Zoey was the fashionista, not Meg, a fact that Zoey never let Meg forget. In fact, not long before, Zoey had come over and given Meg a full-on fashion makeover.
And sure, when people gave other people makeovers on TV, it seemed like a fun thing.
Not so much in real life.
Zoey came over every day for a week and each time it felt a bit like an eye exam. Zoey would show her two different styles of a shoe or pants or jacket and ask her which one she liked better. It gave her flashbacks to going to the optometrist, and being asked, “Which one is better, number one or number two?”
The end result though was that Meg had a closet full of clothes that she loved and felt comfortable in, and all with the stamp of approval of the fashion queen Zoey. Even her bright pink hair had won over Zoey in the end, especially because it looked so good with all of the blues and greens that Zoey had stuffed into her closet.
This evening in particular, she chose a simple tank and jacket paired with black skinny jeans and her favorite Givenchy boots. It was kind of her uniform these days, which was fine with Zoey since she had made sure Meg had the right fit and all the right brands.
She sipped her tequila on the rocks, looking around, and wondered for a moment about how she had gotten here. How had a quiet brainiac with no filter from a small town in New Mexico ended up in LA, flirting with the most beautiful woman in a room full of beautiful women?
She had moved to California at age 19 to get away from some pretty serious baggage. Sure, she pretended she had left all that behind, even with the knowledge that wasn’t ho
w baggage worked.
When she met the Rush sisters through other lesbian connections — seriously, the gay lady world was so small — and eventually joined The Shrikes, everything made sense.
Everything clicked.
Friends back home had told her she was crazy to move to LA with no prospects or connections in order to chase her dream of making music.
She revelled in the fact that she had proven them all wrong.
Meg spotted the woman she had been chatting with all evening — and had hoped to bring home that night. “Oh, hey! I thought I lost you—“ She stopped speaking mid-sentence when she saw who had accompanied the woman across the room.
“Hey Meg, I want you to meet Collins. I just ran into her while I was grabbing another drink,” Sienna had a strange smirk on her face, she sat down and looked at Collins and Meg expectantly.
“Nice to see you again, Collins,” Meg said with no hint of a smile on her face.
“Likewise,” Collins replied in much the same way.
Meg watched as Sienna looked back and forth between her and Collins, a pleased expression on her face.
“Wait, you two know each other?” Sienna asked, though Meg didn’t believe for a second that this was news to Sienna. How did she know? Was she trying to stir the pot and make them both jealous?
“I produced the last album they put out. They needed my help,” Collins said, raising an eyebrow at Meg.
Sienna didn’t strike Meg as the smartest person she had ever met, but she was beautiful and funny, and Meg had thought she was sweet. Meg was currently rethinking just how sweet she was since she was clearly loving this.
As a drummer in a famously lesbian band — not to mention cute, if she did say so herself — Meg didn’t have any problem getting dates. She liked to go out to clubs and flirt and dance and date around, but she really wasn’t in the market for a relationship. That being said, she was absolutely not going to walk away from a beautiful woman that had been all too willing to go home with her until Collins popped up trying to kill her vibe.
If a competition was what Collins was after, a competition was what she would get.
“Very true, Collins. You did help us and our album is doing great. In fact, Sienna, we’re getting ready to do a huge show in Colorado and they’re letting Collins come along and help,” Meg said, feeling smug about how she had spun that.
“Oh, awesome! We should order shots!” Sienna was clearly enjoying herself.
As Sienna ordered them some lemon drops — her “fave,” naturally — Meg took the opportunity to study Collins.
Collins was a very tall and striking woman. Meg thought the best word to describe Collins would be interesting, but interesting in the best possible way. She had black, close cropped hair that she wore messy, and intense green eyes. Her strong jaw line and flawless skin made her downright captivating.
And currently, Meg wanted to punch her in that interesting face very much.
It started to feel like a tennis match as the night wore on, Meg tried to get Sienna to pay attention to her, then Collins would try to get Sienna to pay attention to her. Back and forth, volleying and vying for her attention.
Meg noticed that Sienna was continually placing herself in between Collins and Meg, so neither of them could edge the other one out.
Sienna laughed at every joke — even the terrible jokes Collins made. She made a lot of physical contact with the person she was talking to, just a hand on the forearm here or touching a shoulder there.
This woman was good. She was doing a pretty decent job of keeping both Meg and Collins on her hook.
Sienna started asking more questions that made Meg think she was trying to figure out which one of them made more money and that was her cue to cut to the chase.
Meg figured the night was winding down enough that it was decision time. She cleared her throat, ready to make a case for Sienna coming home with her.
“It’s getting late, and I did promise you a tour of my beach house. You should come over, and you can meet the coolest cat in the world, Ollivander,” Collins said, shooting her shot.
Meg glared at Collins over Sienna’s shoulder.
Sienna blushed and then looked at Meg to see what her next move would be.
“What good is looking at a beach house at night?” Meg leaned against the table and turned her whole body towards Sienna. She placed her hand on Sienna’s. “My house doesn’t have a view, but you won’t just be staring out the window, if you know what I mean.”
Collins’ eyes widened, the narrowed.
Sienna had the decency to blush, and looked like she was legitimately unsure what to do when Collins leaned in close to her ear.
Meg couldn’t hear what Collins was saying, but she could see the very obvious change in Sienna’s demeanor. It was visceral. Her smile fell, then a patchy red blush started forming at Sienna’s chest and spreading up her neck and into her face and cheeks. Whatever sweet nothings Collins was whispering in Sienna’s ear were clearly working and clearly not too sweet.
Sienna made stumbling apologies to Meg as she quickly grabbed her belongings and practically ran out the door with Collins.
Meg sat back in her seat, in shock. She watched as Collins walked away, the swagger in her step looking even more... swaggery, if it was possible.
Ugh, how had that gone so badly?
She sipped her tequila and acknowledged just how uncomfortable she was with what just happened.
Firstly, she had lost the battle over who could be more charming.
Secondly, she had lost to Collins. When had Collins ever been charming?
Thirdly, and hands down worst of all, when Collins was whispering in Sienna’s ear, she had maintained intense eye contact with Meg, mere inches away.
Why was that so sexy? She very much didn’t want to admit that she had been affected by whatever magic Collins was weaving, and yet, her heart was pounding at the thought. She took a look at her drink. Yeah, it was definitely just the tequila.
She downed the rest of the drink and set it on the table in front of her, then pulled out her phone to text the one person she knew would be just as enraged as she was. In this trying time, camaraderie was exactly what she needed.
Meg: Guess who just stole my date at the bar?
Domino: Jennifer Lopez.
Domino: Jennifer Lawrence.
Domino: Jennifer Aniston.
Domino: Any of the famous Jens.
Meg: I wouldn’t even be upset about any of the Jens. It was worse. Collins.
Domino: NO.
Meg: YES.
Domino: Dodged a bullet. That woman deserves everything that’s coming to her.
Meg: You think she’s going to brag about it next week in Denver?
Domino: I’ll punch her in the mouth.
Meg: Aw, you’re too sweet.
Domino: Go find Jennifer Lawrence and take her home instead.
Meg: On it.
Meg put her phone back in her pocket and stood, glancing around, then sighed.
She pulled her phone back out, finding her rideshare app. After that kind of blow to the ego, she’d be better off at home watching Netflix than trying to distract herself with some woman she didn’t even care about.
Ugh, who was she becoming?
Chapter Fifty-Three
Collins
Sunday
Collins hated to fly.
She dreaded every single flight she had to take. She would usually prepare for a flight with either a strong drink or a Xanax.
For her flight that afternoon, she opted for some vodka tonics at the airport bar. She loved her job all the more because she didn’t have to travel too much. She could when she wanted to, but she commanded enough respect these days that people came to her.
As she collected her bags at Denver International Airport, she rolled her eyes for the millionth time that they built an airport in Colorado with a circus tent for a roof. Who designed such a monstrosity?
She to
ok a rideshare to her hotel in hopes of a nice room, a hot shower, and a cold beer. She had a big week of long hours ahead of her.
While checking in, she thought she saw Meg’s pink hair, but lost it too quickly to make out if it was her.
With so many hotels in Denver, it was unlikely that the band would be staying there, too. It would make things easier, Collins thought, if they were at another hotel altogether.
Always better to keep work at work, especially when the lines were blurred like on a work trip.
She grabbed her room keys and navigated the maze to find her room on the fifth floor. She paused in the hallway when she saw Meg unlocking the room directly across the hall from hers. Great. So much for work/life separation.
She hadn’t seen Meg since that night at the bar when they had a pissing contest over who could impress a woman. Collins sighed.
She hadn't even wanted to sleep with Sienna once she knew that Meg was in the picture. She had only wanted to win.
The second she left the club, she had put Sienna in a rideshare to her own home.
That woman didn't deserve the kind of mind-blowing pleasure she could have given her — not after taking obvious delight in pitting Collins and Meg against one another.
Of course, Meg didn’t and would never know that.
It wasn’t like she had the idea of taking Meg home instead of Sienna.
Definitely not.
Definitely not for more than one split second.
Now, seeing Meg steps away from her hotel room stirred those thoughts again.
She squashed them down and cleared her throat.
“Hello, Meghan,” Collins said. She didn’t sound overly friendly, but not outright mean either. Official was the tone she aimed for.
Meg jumped nearly a foot in the air and yelped. “What the fuck?” She shouted as everything in her hands went flying. Her bag spilled all over the floor, mints and headphones and pocket change going everywhere.
Collins held up her hands in an attempt to signal that she came in peace. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to terrify you.”
