“Um…Matt?”
“Oh, right. Right. Come on in!” Matt took another step back and motioned for Vivienne to step into his dressing room. He closed the door and watched as she looked around the space.
After a few seconds, she turned back to him and smiled. “It’s not quite what I imagined.”
He smiled sheepishly. “Yeah. Not glamorous at all.”
“So how are you?” she asked.
“I’m good. I’m good,” he replied. “How…how did you get back here? No one is supposed to get backstage.”
She blushed, looking embarrassed. “Oh. Sorry. I know the head of security here at the arena, and then I spotted Riley, so…” She shrugged. “I’m sorry. I should probably go. I just wanted to stop and say hello.” Vivienne ducked her head and started to walk to the door when Matt stopped her. She looked up at him, those big, brown eyes filled with regret.
Matt cursed himself under his breath. “Hey, I’m not mad you’re here. I’m just surprised. Like I said, security never lets this happen. Sometimes fans get a little…overzealous, so we have a policy that no one gets backstage without clearance.” He had his hand gently wrapped around her upper arm and she was close.
Very close.
When the hell had Vivienne grown up? The last time Matt had seen her, she had been fourteen and wore braces. But this woman standing in front of him was… Wow. He took a deep breath before speaking again. “It’s really good to see you.”
She seemed to relax visibly. “Oh. Good. Me too.” She shook her head and murmured something to herself. “I mean it’s good to see you too.”
Matt knew he should step back, move away, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t take his eyes off her face. She was beautiful.
“I…I wasn’t sure if you’d even recognize me or remember me,” she said softly.
“It took me a minute,” he admitted, his tone equally soft. It hit him how quiet everything had gotten. The loud hum of activity on the other side of the door seemed to have died away, and the only thing he could hear was the two of them breathing.
He knew he should ask about her brother and stick to safe topics, but he was feeling a little buzzed from the liquor and his thinking was slightly skewed. In that moment, he didn’t really care about talking or making idle chitchat. Her lips—all soft and red and glossy—were beckoning him. When he began to lower his head, it registered that she wasn’t pulling away. If anything, she was slowly meeting him halfway.
The moment his lips captured hers, Matt was lost. He dropped his bag and the bottle to the floor, the latter hitting with a loud crash neither of them noticed. Vivienne’s arms slowly came up and looped around his shoulders as Matt’s banded around her waist.
She tasted so sweet he simply forgot where they were.
The door behind them crashed open. “Matty! Let’s go! The car’s waiting!”
Matt lifted his head and looked behind him to see Mick’s angry face staring back at him.
“What the hell?” Mick growled. “How did this one get by security?” He called out to someone in the hallway, and he stalked over, grabbed Matt’s bag off the floor, and then Matt by the arm. “Let’s go!”
“Mick…wait!” Matt stammered, doing his best to break free.
“Take him to the car,” Mick snapped, shoving Matt toward three security guys. “And you,” he said firmly to Vivienne, “I suggest you leave now, or I’ll have you escorted out and press charges!”
“No!” she cried. “You don’t understand. I’m—”
“Save it!” Mick turned back toward where Matt was struggling with the security guards. “Go!”
There seemed to be hundreds of people lining the hallway, and no matter how much Matt struggled to free himself from the security guys, he couldn’t. He called back toward where he last saw Vivienne, but it was no use. He could barely hear himself shout, how was she supposed to hear him?
Maybe it was for the best. There was no way it was a good idea to mess around with her. Aaron was one of his best friends and would probably kick his ass for even thinking about Vivienne.
Once he was in the limo with the door firmly shut behind him, Matt sagged into the seat. Yeah, maybe it was all for the best. He wasn’t going to ruin a friendship over a one-night stand.
Even if there was the merest possibility of her being more.
Chapter 1
“Matty! How does it feel to know you killed the show?”
“Matty! Are you going to reimburse the investors?”
“Matty! Is it true you were drunk on opening night?”
“Matty! Does this mean the end of Shaughnessy too?”
Every. Day.
Every damn day, it was the same thing. Every time Matt stepped out of his condo, there was a crowd of vultures just waiting to taunt and torment him about the epic failure that was his Broadway debut.
Three nights. Two years in the making and the damn show had only run three nights before getting axed.
Dammit.
Now he was the laughingstock of…well, pretty much everything. The media was having a field day with him. His picture was all over blogs and newspapers and tabloid magazines with phrases like “disappointing” and “no talent” and, his personal favorite, “fake.”
There was no way he believed any of it, but it was getting harder and harder to ignore. In a city of eight million plus people, it should be easy to walk around undetected. Clearly that was only the case when you weren’t in the spotlight for being a failure.
Everybody’s a critic, especially when you’re down.
With his cap firmly in place, Matt made his way through the crowd of people, doing his best to get to the curb. Ducking into the car waiting for him, he sighed with relief when the door closed and the driver immediately took off without asking any questions. Mick had sent the car to get Matt across town and to Mick’s office. He almost wished it was winter, so he could bundle up more in a disguise. The spring weather didn’t offer as many options.
Closing his eyes, Matt rested his head against the seat cushion and tried to scrape off the negative feelings. It wasn’t easy to do. It had been two weeks, and there hadn’t been any other scandals to get the focus off him. He had thought he’d be over it by now—or that they would—but it wasn’t happening. Cheryl, his publicist, had done her best to put out statements with positive spins; she’d done as much damage control as she possibly could, but Matt was unwilling to speak to the press directly. At least until some of the ugliness died down.
Maybe that was what Mick wanted to talk to him about—a way to get over this nightmare. Although, wouldn’t Cheryl have called first? A one-on-one meeting with Mick was never good. Riley Shaughnessy, lead singer and cofounder of the band, didn’t mind having them back when they were still functioning as a group, and maybe—now that Matt thought about it—it had been intentional. Riley obviously knew how to handle Mick and took it on so the rest of them didn’t have to.
Unfortunately, this was a situation Riley couldn’t handle for him. He had to do this on his own since it was a situation of his own doing.
Dammit.
With nothing left to do and refusing to get himself worked up even more, Matt leaned forward, pulled a bottle of water from the stocked bar, and decided to let his mind go blank for a little while.
At least, that was the plan until his cell phone rang.
Looking down at the screen, he smiled. Since the debacle of the show, he had decided to keep his phone turned off as much as humanly possible. Right now, he was glad it was on.
“Hey, man! What’s going on?”
There was a brief chuckle on the other end. “I’m calling to check on you and see how you’re doing.”
Matt took a quick drink of the bottled water before answering. “I’m not gonna lie, Aaron, it pretty much sucks to be me right now.”
�
�Yeah. I know.” He sighed. “So why are you still in New York? Get out of there for a while. Without the show, there’s no reason for you to stay.”
Matt had been struggling with that idea himself. Leaving meant running, and he didn’t want to appear to be a coward—which was exactly what he told Aaron.
“You’re not being a coward, Matt,” Aaron replied. “New York wasn’t your home before the show; no one expects you to make it your home now. Seriously, it’s time to move on. You can’t tell me you’re enjoying being harassed every time you open the door.”
“Hell no,” Matt said with a mirthless laugh. “The thing is…I don’t even really have a home base anymore. I’m used to living out of hotels. I sold my place in L.A. because I was never there and I thought I’d be here for a while. Where would I go?”
“Anywhere. Pick a spot on the map if you’ve got to.”
How could he possibly explain that as much as he hated the harassment he was currently getting, it was easier than dealing with the unknown? Right now, Matt knew what to expect when he went out in public. But if he moved someplace else, he had no idea what the reaction would be. What if the media was worse at an unknown location? What if he was followed? What if—
“You could come here,” Aaron suggested, interrupting Matt’s thoughts.
“What?”
“You could totally come back to North Carolina. My property is pretty secluded. No one would have to know you were here.”
Matt’s immediate reaction was to say yes, but he reconsidered almost as fast. “I couldn’t do that to you, man. You have no idea what it’s been like. I’d hate to have the paparazzi climbing all over your house and property. It’s not fair to you.”
“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t sure. I have a ten-foot privacy fence around the property and a gate at the driveway. There are security cameras all over, and I’d make sure the place was stocked so you wouldn’t have to go out for a while.”
“Dude…paranoid much? What’s with all the privacy?”
Aaron chuckled. “I’m making a healthy living now, and this house is an investment for me. I put every bell and whistle into it that I ever dreamed of, and I want to protect it. And besides that, I really do enjoy the privacy. It’s kind of fun making the locals wonder what’s behind the fence. And it looks like it will work to your advantage too.”
“You’re talking as if you wouldn’t be there.”
“I’m getting ready to head over to London for a couple of weeks for business. I figured you might enjoy a change of scenery in a place no one really knows you.”
Matt chuckled. “You forget we both grew up in the same town. The same town you’re currently living in. People know me.”
“You haven’t been back here since the day after we graduated high school. No one’s expecting to see you here.” Aaron paused. “Come on, Matt. My offer stands. You find a way to get here undetected, and I’ll make sure you have peace and privacy for a couple of weeks. What do you say?”
It was so tempting. He was about to say that when he realized the car had pulled up to Mick’s building and was heading to the underground parking garage. “Listen, Aaron, can I call you back in a little while? I’m just pulling up to Mick’s, and I need to know my options before I pull a disappearing act.”
“Okay,” Aaron agreed. “But promise me you’ll think about it.”
“I will,” he replied and then paused. “And, Aaron?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
Matt shut the phone down and slid from the car as soon as it came to a stop. He was immediately whisked up in a private elevator to Mick’s office on the twenty-fourth floor. It was late in the day, and only Mick’s assistant was in the office.
“He’s waiting for you,” she said softly with a smile—the kind of smile that said I’m so sorry.
He was beginning to hate that smile.
Closing the door behind him, Matt strode across the room toward Mick’s desk and sat in the chair facing him.
“Did anyone give you trouble downstairs?” Mick asked.
Matt shook his head. “I don’t think anyone followed us here, so—”
Before he could say anything more, Mick slid a newspaper across his desk toward Matt. “This isn’t good.”
Great. More bad news. Picking up the paper, he scanned the article, his ire growing with every word. “This is bullshit!”
Mick nodded.
“So…do something!” Matt yelled. “Get Cheryl on the line! Release tapes! Do whatever you have to do to prove these bastards wrong!”
“Already working on it,” Mick said calmly. Almost too calmly.
“But…?”
“But,” he began, “this just means you’re going to be thrust into the spotlight even more around here. You need to leave town and lay low for a while.”
His conversation with Aaron immediately sprang to mind. And while he hated the thought of having to pack up and leave like a thief in the night, obviously it was his only option.
“Look, Matty, I know this all sucks, but it is what it is. It’s been hard enough trying to reel in this media circus when it was just about you. Now they’re going after the band and trying to screw up your reputation as musicians. I can’t allow it. It’s not fair to the guys.”
“What about me?” Matt snapped. “So because this stupid show flopped, it’s okay to call me out as a fraud in every aspect of my life? How the hell is that fair?”
“Okay, let me rephrase that,” Mick said patiently. “It’s not fair to any of you. You know we dealt with similar bullshit when Riley was working on his solo album. The press had a field day with him for a while, claiming he had no talent without the band.” He shrugged. “Now it’s your turn.”
“Yeah, but—”
Mick cut him off. “We’re already working on releasing tapes to prove you can sing, that no one’s singing or playing for you. The producers of the Broadway gig aren’t being cooperative, but luckily we had people there recording you and taking video during a lot of your rehearsals, so we can show you were the one singing the whole time. We’re going to say it was just…stage fright or an illness that made you sound…”
“Like shit?” Matt finished for him.
Mick grinned. “There’s no point in calling it anything else, is there? The fact is, you sucked. You know it, I know it, and everyone who saw the damn thing during those three days knows it. So why sugarcoat it?”
He hated when the man threw logic at him.
“All I know is that I don’t want anyone questioning the integrity of Shaughnessy.” He held up a hand to stop Matt before he could say anything. “I hate that you’re going through this, kid, I really do, but you guys worked your asses off for far too long to let something like this take you down. I need to do damage control, and to do it quickly and shut down the rumors, I need you out of the way. You’re a distraction right now.”
Again. Logic.
Matt waited a minute and let his knee-jerk hissy fit calm down before he spoke. “Have you talked to the guys? What are they saying?”
“Riley’s going to do the late-night talk show circuit starting next week. You know it’s a topic that’s going to come up, so he’ll do what he can there. We’re putting out press releases, and I have people who owe me favors. This whole thing should die down in the next couple of weeks.”
Matt jumped to his feet. “You have favors and you’ve waited until now to call them in? What about when it all hit the fan for me? Why the hell weren’t you doing anything about it then?”
Mick nearly leveled him with a glare. “You wanna know?”
Matt held his ground. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”
Slowly Mick came to his feet. “Because this Broadway thing was your own fault. I warned you not to do it. You’re not an actor, Matty. You’re a guitar playe
r. You’re great at backup vocals, but you’re not a front man.” He threw out his hands. “You did this for your ego and you weren’t going to listen to anyone who didn’t think it was a good idea. This was all on you.”
It was on the tip of Matt’s tongue to tell Mick to go to hell, but he refrained.
It was obvious Mick knew exactly what he was thinking. “You can cast me as the bad guy all you want, but it’s not going to change anything. I want you to get out of town for a while. Let’s say a month. I’ll call you when the smoke’s cleared. Okay?”
“Like I have a choice?”
“Sure, you have a choice. Stay in town and keep getting harassed. Become more of a joke than you already are.” He shrugged. “And know you’re the reason your bandmates are going to go down with you.”
It was one thing to be defiant when he was only hurting himself. There was no way he was going to take Riley, Dylan, and Julian down with him. No matter how much he wanted to stick it to Mick.
Raking a hand through his hair, Matt nodded. “Fine.” He turned and headed toward the door.
“Where are you gonna go?”
He stopped with his hand on the doorknob and faced his agent. “Probably better if you don’t know. The fewer people who know, the better. Right?”
Mick gave him a sympathetic look. The first one he’d ever seen on the man. “It’s not forever, Matt. You know that.”
“Yeah” was all he could say. Pulling open the door, he stepped out and shut it quietly behind him.
Now he just had to figure out how he was going to get out of the city and to Aaron’s without anyone knowing.
* * *
Vivienne Forrester was on top of the world. Spinning in her office chair, she giggled with pure glee at the current turn of events in her life. For years, she had been blogging and freelance writing for any online site that would let her, and now all of her hard work had finally paid off.
As of ten minutes ago, she was officially an assistant editor for Modern Lifestyle, an online lifestyle magazine. All of the food and restaurant trends, reviews, and blog posts were now her domain, and she couldn’t be happier. No more doing it all on her own and hoping for a site to pick up her work; now Vivienne was in charge of picking the topics and which posts were going to be used.
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