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How a Star Shines: A Pop Stars Romantic Comedy Book 2

Page 15

by Eliker, Rachael


  I turned back to a teenage boy with a mop of dark hair and surprising smooth skin for his age and handed back the paper he’d had me autograph.

  “Do I get a kiss?” he asked in his thick, Parisian accent.

  I quirked my head to the side and asked, “Excuse me?”

  “Do I get a kiss?” he repeated more slowly. He puckered his lips and made kissing noises.

  “No, sorry. I’m not running a kissing booth today,” I answered with a curt laugh.

  “Why is he then?”

  My eyes followed the young man’s gesture down the line of barricades, to see Josh unmistakably lip locked with the chesty ginger.

  Chapter Nineteen

  A hundred phones were pointed at Josh and the redhead within an instant, but I looked away, hurt and confusion swirled inside, eventually giving way to an indignant rage seething in my core. I thought I’d been wise and astute, but apparently, Josh had fooled me. It very much looked like he and Preston were cut from the same cloth.

  Josh kissing the woman sent the crowd into full-on rabid. The cheers and catcalls were deafening, and then, I felt a hand on my shoulder, then another. People were yanking me back so they could get a close-up selfie. I pulled away, but they pulled harder. I hated Josh even more now that he wasn’t there when I needed him most because he was too busy smooching with a stranger.

  “Bert!” I shrieked. He was crouched over, busy helping Ruby with her shoe. She’d managed to get the heel of her boot lodged in a crack in the pavement, and while Bert was helping free her, he didn’t hear me.

  Preston had returned to Monica, who’d been egging on Josh and the girl just as much as anyone. I wasn’t even sure he’d come to the rescue, even if I’d asked.

  Then, I felt it and it made my stomach curl: my wig slipped ever so slightly. It had gotten snagged by someone reaching for me, and I knew I had a terrible choice to make. I could either be sucked into the crowd before Bert or Josh—I’d even take George at that point if he wasn’t busy chatting up the producers backstage—could get to me, or, I could ditch the wig and free myself.

  I stalled, wondering if it would be worse to be torn to shreds by the frenzied crowd, or have an entire army of cameras catch every horrifying moment of my wig being ripped from my head. Then, someone reached under the barrier and squeezed a very generous handful of my rear end.

  I yelped and instinctually jumped away. Once Bert had helped Ruby get her foot unstuck from the crack in the concrete, he lumbered over to me as fast as he could. Shoving back a few unruly fans, he subdued the rest with a glare that might have made them burst into flames if he’d tried much harder. Putting his enormous, beefy hand on the small of my back, he pushed me toward the stage where Ruby already was slinging her guitar over her neck and tuning it one last time.

  Swallowing hard, I reached up to confirm what I already knew: the wig was gone. Mercifully, the wig liner had been pulled off with it, but I couldn’t imagine my hair looked very classy, since Casey hadn’t touched it other than to finish blow-drying it when we agreed on the wig.

  “This crowd is something else,” Ruby said with a laugh as I joined her.

  I wanted to strangle her for being so cheerful at a time like this, but I knew I’d only be trying to take out my frustrations on her. She didn’t deserve that. That was something I was going to reserve for Josh.

  Ruby’s blue eyes flashed to my head, then back to my face with a worried look. “Kiki, where’s your wig?”

  Putting both hands through my hair, I tried to fluff it up, then tame it into something that looked remotely like I hadn’t just rolled out of bed.

  “Someone in the crowd got a hold of it. I imagine it’s been auctioned off to the highest bidder already. It’s not even made from my own hair,” I grumbled.

  “But it was on your head. That seems to count for a lot with super fans,” Ruby said sympathetically.

  She helped me fix my hair as best as she could, reassuring me the whole time that it looked fine. Genevieve asked us to take our positions, so she could introduce us to viewers before we performed. Josh held Monica’s hand as she trotted up the steps and onto the stage. She smiled like she was having the time of her life and took her place at the microphone that flanked mine, humming a few arpeggios to refresh her voice.

  “What happened to your hair?” Josh asked.

  At that moment, I wanted to talk to anybody but him. I had been so naïve, so foolish, and all I had to show for it was broken trust. I refused to let any tears fall, even though they were already brimming at the edge of my lashes.

  “While you were over there, face-sucking with that fake redhead, I got pulled in by the crowd, and someone stole my wig. So now, thanks to you, I get to go live on an international morning show—”

  “Thirty-seconds, ladies!” Genevieve called to us.

  “In thirty-seconds, looking like I stuck my finger in an electrical socket.”

  Josh looked mortified as I chewed him out, and it almost made me want to dive into his arms and have him make it right. Almost. The smudge of red lipstick on the side of his mouth was a potent reminder of his betrayal.

  “Go away, Josh.” I said, my voice thick. “You’re going to ruin my shot.”

  He didn’t argue and took a few steps back, taking up position with Bert and the other security personnel. I could tell my words had stung, but I was beyond feeling for his well-being.

  For the first time since he’d walked back into my life, I sincerely wanted nothing more than for Josh Coleman to disappear.

  * * *

  Whenever something embarrassing happened, I did my best to put on a face for the rest of the day and pretend like I’d meant for things to go that way. It was on the second day that I felt like hiding under my covers and drowning my sorrows in boxes of rich fudge and gallons of ice cream. That was when photos and stories were published and began circulating with gusto, becoming viral thorns in my side. Of course, I couldn’t ever really indulge in downing a pan of brownies solo because some cruel celebrity critic would pick up on the three pounds I gained from it and shame me relentlessly. I couldn’t win.

  Aside from my unkempt hair that looked anything but chic, the whole performance was a disaster. There had been too much to process in such a short time—Josh making out with another girl when we’d almost kissed only the morning before was the biggest blow to my confidence. The entire time I was on stage singing, it felt like I was choking on my own tears. Only You had become synonymous with Josh. He’d helped brainstorm the subject of the music, had become my co-star in the music video, and was there when I performed it live for the first time. All of that kept racing through my mind while I had tried to dance and sing for the morning show, and my performance had suffered terribly for it.

  There was a knock on my door. Pulling the covers over my head, I pinched my eyes shut, hoping the tighter I closed them, the faster I could fall back asleep.

  “Kiki, I know you’re in there,” Ruby called through the door. When I didn’t answer, she pounded harder. “If you don’t answer the door, I’m going to go get Josh and hotel security and tell them I thought I heard you slip and fall in the tub. Now open up.”

  Begrudgingly, I slid out from under the sheets and dragged myself to the door. Unlocking it, I pulled my door open and returned to my bed without waiting to greet Ruby, diving headlong at the mattress and back into my pity party.

  “Good morning to you, too.”

  I grunted back at her, too tired to say much. Flopping down on the mattress, I cocooned myself in the silky white duvet, leaving only my face peeking out.

  “That bad, huh?” Ruby asked, tossing her purse onto the desk. Before sitting down in an armchair next to the window, she flung open the drapes, letting in a blinding stream of sunlight.

  “I’m not ready to be conscious yet,” I grumbled, covering my face with a pillow. Rubbing my eyelids, they felt like they’d swollen to twice their normal size from all the weeping. I hated that feeling.


  “Yeah, well, you have to suck it up. We have rehearsal again in an hour and a half.”

  “What time is it?” I asked.

  “Ten after noon. You’ve had plenty of time to mope. Time to get up, take an invigorating shower, and put your best foot forward,” Ruby coached.

  “I’m not going today.”

  When Ruby didn’t say anything, I moved the pillow to see what she was doing. It was entirely possible she was engrossed in a mushy, love-struck texting battle with Collin, completely oblivious to my pain. She wasn’t. Staring right at me with one eyebrow cocked higher than another, she looked like she was preparing to give me a lecture.

  There wasn’t much I was able to do to salvage my performance of Only You. My makeup and wardrobe had been spot on, but my voice kept cracking while I tried to sing. It wasn’t pretty.

  “I know better than most how much it sucks when a performance doesn’t go as planned,” Ruby said.

  I felt a hot tear trickle down my cheek and soak into the sheets. I blew out a long breath and answered, “It’s not only that.”

  “If I had to guess, it might have something to do with the reason you sounded like you were going to cry the whole time you were singing.”

  I wiped away another tear, and then another. I’d bottled up most of my emotions for years, so when Josh came along and brought these intense emotions, they kept overtaking me. I don’t know how long it’d been since I’d been so happy and with that peak, he’d also sent me crashing to the lowest point I’d been in a long time.

  “Josh and I…” I sniffled. “The morning of our first rehearsal, we had a really special moment. I got caught up in the notion that we could actually make a relationship work. And then at the morning show, he’s there, making out with some carrot top woman who he’d been talking with for all of two minutes.”

  “Yeah, I heard about it,” Ruby said softly. “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for it.”

  I sat up in bed and scowled at Ruby. “What on earth would possibly be logical about him being lip locked with a woman, other than he was attracted to her?”

  “It is Paris,” Ruby offered.

  I scoffed bitterly. “Ruby, they give kisses on the cheeks as freely as breathing here, not French kisses.”

  “I’m just saying maybe she needed mouth to mouth because she got so excited that she choked on a piece of hard candy…”

  I laughed and threw a pillow at her. “You’re absolutely ridiculous, you know that? There’s a limit to how much on the bright side you can see.”

  Ruby pushed herself out of the chair and went to the closet, searching through my clothes. “Maybe so. And if he really was kissing her on a whim, then you’ll get revenge by making him realize what a prize he’s missed.”

  She pulled out a bohemian-style romper and paired it with cute espadrille sandals that tied around the ankles. It wasn’t exactly the outfit I would have chosen—it was something I would wear when wandering the city on a shopping spree.

  “Really? That’s what you think says ‘revenge’?”

  “Sometimes less is more,” she said. “I think Josh fell for your sweet side and this will remind him of that.”

  I’d sat up on the edge of my bed but felt my shoulders slump. “I think he actually fell for that awful redhead.”

  “Trust me, Kiki. He’ll be sorry when he sees you.”

  Chapter Twenty

  A hot shower and Ruby’s pep talk had been enough to break through the gray cloud that had been hanging over my head. I’d managed to make it through rehearsal without any hiccups and was headed back to my dressing room with a cool face towel and a bottle of water.

  Pacing outside my door was Josh. He kept his hands in his jean pockets, rattling a few loose coins, and focusing on the floor as he walked. The ride over had been awkward—neither of us spoke much, and when we did, it was all Ms. Loveless or Mr. Coleman. Bert even looked uncomfortable, and not because he was squashed in the middle.

  “Is there something you need, Mr. Coleman?” I asked stiffly.

  “Yeah, we need to talk,” he said, raking a hand through his unruly blond hair, keeping his eyes on my shoes.

  I pushed my way past him and into my dressing room, where Cinnamon had been napping on the couch. The dog stood and stretched, sticking his tongue out as far as he could while he yawned. He licked at my hand as I ruffled the fur on his head, then looked over, wagging his whole body at seeing Josh. We were going to have to have another talk now that Josh was back on the do not like list.

  Josh stepped into the doorway but didn’t come in, first grabbing the frame, then stuffing his hands into his back pockets.

  “What is it that I can help you with?” I asked but was met with silence as Josh wrestled internally, trying to figure out what to say.

  Bringing his stormy blue eyes up to meet mine, he locked me in his gaze, working his jaw muscles. There was so much emotion in his look that I took a step back, feeling his pain. Well, I was hurt, too, thanks to him. While he thought about it, I packed up my things and stuffed them into my bag, with Cinnamon sitting on top of it all.

  “I wanted to apologize about yesterday.”

  “Really,” I asked sarcastically. “Which part?”

  “I failed to protect you as I’ve been hired to do.”

  My jaw dropped to the ground, and I blinked slowly at him. “Are you serious?”

  Josh angled his head slightly. “Yes.” He sounded uncertain. Apparently, he had no idea he was wading through a minefield of danger with me.

  “Of all the things you did wrong yesterday, not keeping me safe, surprisingly, didn’t top the list.”

  “Is this about the redhead?”

  “Ding! Ding! Ding! We have a winner!” I threw my head back and laughed bitterly. “I can’t believe you. Only a day before, you and I were about to…” I couldn’t seem to get myself to say it. “But then, you were willing to make out with that woman in front of all those people. Did you even know her?”

  “No. She—”

  I sliced my hand through the air to cut him off. “Even better. Kissing a total stranger on the job.”

  “She kissed me.”

  “That’s rich,” I snapped. “My bodyguard can’t even fight off a woman. I mean, come on, Josh. She wasn’t a bodybuilder or anything.”

  Josh’s face turned red, and I felt slightly apologetic for the low-blow to his ego, but my pride wasn’t going to let me vocalize my sympathies any time soon.

  Josh frowned. “You of all people should know that not everything is as it appears.”

  “Really?” I scoffed. “Your lips were on her lips. That seems pretty straight forward.”

  Josh clenched his jaw. Why did he have to be so handsome when I was angry? I folded my arms in front of my chest and stubbornly looked away so I didn’t have to look at his attractive face.

  Josh patiently waited for me to look back at him. When I finally gave in, he said, “I’ve done some thinking, and it would be best if Bert and I switched places. I’ll be point for Ruby, and Bert will be your primary bodyguard from now on.”

  My throat constricted tightly, and I cleared it, shrugging and trying to remain indifferent. “If that’s what you think, Mr. Coleman.”

  “This is a decision I’m confident will be for the best.”

  His assertion started an avalanche of emotions that, hard as I tried, I did not have the power to stop. My face felt flush, and the room started to spin. It seemed like I couldn’t prevent my tear ducts from leaking. I cursed my weakness and clenched my eyes shut, forcing them to stay put. I wasn’t going to let a man break me ever again.

  In the end, my rage won out. Yes, boyfriends like Preston had left me feeling betrayed and hurt, but what Josh had done to me was far worse. I was hollow inside, scraped clean of any belief that there was such a thing as true love.

  “Alright then, Mr. Coleman,” I said coldly, my voice thick with anger. “That sounds like the best course of action. Bert will be my
primary contact, should I have any concerns.”

  Josh nodded, not saying a word, but his eyes told another story. His strength had been sapped, and he leaned against the frame of the door, his expression as if I’d stabbed him in the back. I told myself, if he didn’t like it, then he shouldn’t have done it to me first.

  We stood there in silence while the occasional cluster of dancers or stage crew walked passed, blissfully unaware our barely conceived relationship had already crumbled. Reaching his hand up to my cheek, I shied away and scowled at him. How dare he? Leaving me with an ounce of hope was worse than leaving me completely robbed.

  “See you around, Kiki,” he murmured.

  Josh pushed himself off the wall and walked away from me, toward the stage where he was going to take up his post, keeping an eye on Ruby.

  I took one final glance around to make sure I had gotten everything I needed, refusing to let myself feel anything. Not until I made it back to the hotel. If I did it now, there would be no leaving without it being blatantly obvious to everyone in the vicinity that I’d ugly cried.

  Closing the door behind me, I bumped into Preston, who had appeared outside my room. Slipping on my oversized sunglasses, even though I was still inside, I didn’t bother apologizing to him.

  “I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” Preston said. His lower lip pouted a bit, and I rolled my eyes at his pretended sadness.

  “You too?”

  “Your reviews of yesterday’s performance have been brutal. Did you not see them?” He held up his phone with an article already pulled up.

  I glanced at his phone but pushed his hand away. I didn’t need to read that kind of garbage when I knew plenty well that I’d botched it big time. Pushing my way past him, I kept a determined march toward the car.

 

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