It’s all fun and games…until someone falls in love.
Entertainment journalist Lita Matthews is on the verge of making it big. As in her-own-TV-show big. She just needs amazing inside scoop on the year’s hottest celebrity wedding. Instead, her big break is becoming a big nightmare—all thanks to rock star Rocky Cardano. Who apparently hasn’t gotten over what happened between them four years ago...
Rocky is pretty damn familiar with just how far Lita will go for a “scoop.” Hell, their unbelievably hot hook-up in Mexico years ago was the story of a lifetime. Rocky’s learned his lessons. He’ll do whatever it takes to keep her from the story—even if he has to seduce her to the point of distraction! But Lita has always had a way of getting under his skin. Only this time, he won’t be able to just walk away...
Playing with the Drummer
a Head Over Heels novel
Robin Covington
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 by Robin Covington. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Entangled Publishing, LLC
2614 South Timberline Road
Suite 109
Fort Collins, CO 80525
Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.
Indulgence is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.
Edited by Alethea Spiridon Hopson
Cover design by Liz Pelletier
ISBN 978-1-63375-161-3
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition December 2014
For all the musicians and singers I’ve been blessed to perform with over the years. The music. The Words. The bliss. Thank you.
Here’s to one more song.
Chapter One
Move over, Oprah. Get in line, Ellen.
This week was going to make her career.
Lita Matthews waved at the crowd of paparazzi confined by the police at the end of the long driveway of the Holmes Estate. She pulled her rental car in front of the entrance and came to a halt right in front of the valet parking attendant. There were probably two dozen more of them now, a testament to just how close the wedding date actually was and in direct proportion to the rising media frenzy. Her few days of prep in L.A. had demonstrated that every tabloid, legitimate entertainment news outlet, and blogger was talking about the nuptials, many of them only dishing the dirt and stirring the scandal pot.
To walk the fine line between her journalistic integrity and her loyalty toward a friend was going to be precarious in her high heels. That balance wasn’t always her strongest asset, and it would take every ounce of her training to get it right. This was the most important assignment of her life, and she couldn’t afford to mess it up. She didn’t report stories to hurt people, even though that was sometimes a by-product. She reported the truth. But it was her goal to always temper that truth with compassion and fair reporting. She’d screwed up very early in her career, had let her emotions guide the story, and it was the one time in her life when she was ashamed of her job. And now that her dream job was hanging in the balance, the risk was even more personal.
She grabbed her purse and Italian handmade briefcase and emerged from the controlled environment of the car and into the wilds of Montana. All around her, the mountains dwarfed the man-made structure—not that the mansion wasn’t stunning with its wood beams and gleaming windows—but Mother Nature was hard to beat when it was this pristine.
It didn’t surprise her that Lori and Callie had been raised under the watch of the clear blue sky. Both women were fierce in their own way, sparkling like the sunlight that glinted off the huge lake just beyond the lodge. California hadn’t taken their freshness, and that was the secret behind the success of Calliope Shoe Designs.
There was nothing fresh about her. Deftly hidden behind a mask of clothes and makeup, she’d grown up in the shadow of the Hollywood letters on the hill and cut her teeth on the Rodeo Drive sign. Raised by a former supermodel and an Oscar-winning film director, there was nothing fresh about Lita. The entertainment business was cutthroat, and you had to dodge a lot of stilettos in your back to make it to the top.
She was almost there. So close she could practically feel the glare of the studio lights of her own show on her face. This assignment was the thing that would push her over the top.
Lita leaned down and checked her makeup, smoothing down the tight pencil skirt she’d picked up in Milan a couple of weeks ago. If you wanted to be the next big thing in television, you needed to dress the part, even if you were out in the middle-of-nowhere Montana where they likely didn’t know a Gucci from a Gap.
Handing off her keys to the young man in staff uniform, she retraced his steps and entered the mansion. It was as gorgeous inside as it was outside—the perfect place for sweet Callie to marry her bad boy rock star, Jake Mitchell, the lead singer for The Rift. It would make for great TV; the “every girl” from the Heartland who captured the Rock God would play to so many demographics. She was looking at a ratings sweep when it aired. The only thing bigger would be an invasion from Mars.
“Lita!” Lori Hanover, her best friend and sister of the bride, two-stepped it across the slate floor of the foyer before engulfing her in a hug that almost knocked her off her platform pumps. This entire opportunity had fallen into her lap because of her friendship with Lori. Calliope Shoes had taken a nosedive when Callie had broken up Jake’s prior engagement, and Lori had asked Lita to do this exclusive, behind-the-scenes, no-holds-barred video special on their destination wedding. The goal was to attempt a rehabilitation of Callie’s reputation and put her shoes back on the red carpets in Hollywood.
“Hey you.” She hugged her back, laughing as she noticed the tall, gorgeous man hovering behind her friend. Dash Mills—the love of Lori’s life—and former member of The Rift. It was rumored that he might be re-joining the band, but so far, no one from the inner circle was talking. “Does he follow you everywhere?”
Lori pulled out of the embrace and launched herself at Dash, snuggling in when he pulled her close. “He loves me. What can I say?”
“Dash, my offer to get you that psych eval still stands,” she said as the man-of-questionable-sanity drew her into a one-armed squeeze. “She’s a freight train, and you can still get out alive.”
“Hey!” Lori protested.
“People have been calling me crazy for years, now I have a legit reason,” Dash said, pressing a kiss on Lori’s nose when she pouted. “She’s my freight train. I love her.”
“Uh huh.” Lita placed her sunglasses on top of her head, peering down the hallway and ready to get down to business. “You guys. Laz and Syd—”
“How do you know about Laz and Syd?” Dash asked. She’d been back in L.A. when that love connection had happened, and while bad news traveled fast, good news made decent time as well.
“Honey, it’s my job to know stuff like that.” She patted his face, giving it a little pinch as he laughed and shook his head. “Anyway, I hope this love thing isn’t catching. I’ve got too much work to do.”
“You hardened cynic. Whatever happened to make you such a man hater?” Lori asked.
“I don’t hate men. I love them. I just love them to leave in the morning.”
“Oh, that’s harsh. You sound like Rocky,” Dash said and then waved a frantic hand in her face when she raised an eyebrow. He looked alarmed. “Not about the men in the bed. Women. Women only. H
e likes them to leave, too.”
“Yeah, I heard that about him.” It was more like she knew first-hand just how quickly Rocky Cardano could kick a woman out of his bed without a backward glance. His position as the drummer of the world’s most loved rock band meant that his sexual escapades were legendary, and she was glad that her inclusion on his list of conquests was the best-kept secret in Hollywood. Probably the only secret.
She’d thought he was different from all the other guys in Hollywood who’d used her for their own careers and public image. It never hurt to have a daughter of two A-listers on your arm or in your bed. Rocky had been the final straw on the already broken back of her belief in love.
He’d gone from attentive lover to accusatory jackass in the span of three short days, confirming her opinion that love was just a plotline in a movie. She’d made the mistake of thinking that maybe she was the heroine in their love story, but it ended up that she was the punch line.
And then, in her anger, she’d gone way too far and published a story that told the world where he was hiding. She’d known that he was working through his pain, needing the space to get his head together, and she’d led the hounds of hell to his door. Not her best moment, and even though she’d apologized many times, their tentative trust had been broken.
His presence was the only thing that could potentially spoil the absolute best gig of her life. They’d seen each other over the past four years. She covered stories about him and the band, attended the awards shows, and partied at the same clubs. And even though their social circles looked like the center of a Venn diagram, they’d proven that you could ignore someone for prolonged periods of time without raising too many questions. This week, stuck together at this estate, would be challenging, but they’d manage. No biggie.
It was her heart that would take the beating. She’d fallen hard for him those three days in Mexico, and the knowledge that they could not be together made her stomach tighten in a way years of crunches had never achieved. But the worst was knowing they might as well live on different planets, with her on the one that embraced the glare of the camera flash and his spent on the dark side of the moon, avoiding any spotlight. They were the definition of “opposites attract”, and while she might be willing to bend, Rocky had made it clear that he was not budging one little inch. But this was one week. She could make nice with him for seven days and the front row seat at the wedding of the year.
“So, where is the blushing bride?” Lita looked around, her brain quickly shifting into reporter mode. She could already picture conducting her exclusive interviews in this room, the mountains and lake in the background. It would look awesome in HD on millions of flat screens across the world. She turned her attention back to Lori and Dash just in time to see a glance pass between them. “What’s that look?”
“Callie is, ” Lori didn’t finish the sentence, looking back at Dash with a “help me” expression on her face.
Dash put his arm around both of their waists as he led them down the hallway, his tone calm and soothing. “Callie is losing her fucking mind.”
“What?” Lita asked.
“I’m sure it’s just wedding jitters and all that jazz,” he said, only to be cut off by Lori.
“The paparazzi is driving her nuts, and she can’t figure out what shoe to wear.”
Screw the press. This shoe thing was serious.
“No shoe?”
“No shoe.” Lori sighed, her hand rubbing the back of her neck with stress. She was a great big sister, if Callie was freaking out, then Lori was overcompensating to remain calm. As Lita knew, it could be exhausting to be the yin to someone’s yang. And if Callie, world famous shoe designer to the stars, couldn’t figure out what she would wear on the big day, the yin was seriously out of whack. “As the day gets closer, the more the press coverage ramps up, and the more stressed she becomes.”
“Why not impose a blackout on the coverage? Just keep her from seeing it.”
Lori sighed as they rounded the corner that led to the mansion’s Main Hall, the place Callie and Jake had made into an impromptu living room. It was in the back of the mansion and safe from the prying of unwanted eyes. “I’ve tried, but she can’t stand it. She cheats. I finally caught her in the staff office using their computer, and we gave her back her electronics.”
Callie and Jake, providing onsite accommodations for the wedding party and the guests in the various guesthouses on the property, booked the whole estate. The Main Hall boasted a living room, a mini-bar, and a huge private terrace that overlooked the lake and the mountains. With an entire back wall of glass panels, the space could have total access to the outdoors with the push of a button, but even with the doors shut, the view was breathtaking.
Blue sky. Green grass. Lake as clear as crystal.
A perfect place to get married. Out under the heavens with everything in the universe a witness to your vows. With a start like that, maybe marriage could work. She’d only seen it happen a handful of times, but there was always a first. Like comfy clogs making an appearance on the red carpet— it could happen.
“Lita!” Callie turned from the table full of food on the terrace and rushed over to hug her. She was thinner, not alarmingly so, but she wasn’t eating all the yummy food Sydney was surely pushing in front of her at her current weight. Pulling back from the embrace, Lita checked out her friend and wasn’t crazy about what she saw. No bags under the eyes, but definite signs of fatigue and strain around the mouth and on her forehead. Not exactly the coveted bridal glow.
“How are you holding up, kiddo?”
“Holy crap. I’m ready for all the wedding stuff to be over.”
“Hey.” Jake came up behind her, his voice teasing as he kissed Lita on the cheek. “Marrying me is the highlight of your life.”
“It is, baby. It is.” She turned to hug him tight, gazing up at him with eyes full of the love that had landed her in this mess. “I want to be married, but the wedding…”
“We can take off for Vegas with an hour’s notice. You tell me, and I’m on it.” Jake looked back down at her, his depth of feeling for his fiancé the clearest thing in his expression.
It was that love that had compelled him to break off his engagement with the country-singer-diva-from-hell-who-shall-not-be-named and pursue Callie. The ex was stirring up trouble every chance she got, and that was why Lita was here—to add their side of the story to all the noise.
But the ex had jump-started the latest frenzy, giving a tell-all interview on primetime TV two days ago, and the pendulum of public opinion had swung back to her side. If Callie had seen even a fraction of what was being said, then no wonder she was stressed. Your head told you that you shouldn’t care, but the heart and soul had a hard time avoiding the punches. Lita had watched her parents, their friends, her friends in the business, take the hits, and no one emerged without a little soul scarring.
This was going to be harder than she thought.
“I’m not going to Vegas. We’ve planned the most beautiful ceremony.” Callie snuggled in closer, her smile not quite reaching her eyes as she gazed around the room at her friends. “Laz is going to be your best man, and Sydney is going to serve the best food anyone ever tasted. My sister will stand up with me, and I think we can persuade Dash to play the gorgeous song Rocky wrote for us if I ask nicely.”
Lita glanced around the room; Rocky wasn’t there. The tension in her belly that was always present when he was nearby loosened ever so slightly, and she took a deeper breath. She was always on edge, a little bit on the defensive, and a whole lot ashamed of the one petty thing she’d done in her career, exposing him to the press when he’d needed solitude. She’d apologized, but it was always between them, making sure the chasm never got any smaller.
What she couldn’t figure out was why their three days together still haunted her. Lovers had come and gone, and yet, the only one she could remember with perfect clarity was Rocky. It was probably the way it had ended that drove her nu
ts, nobody liked being kicked to the curb.
“Only if you ask very nicely,” Dash answered with a smile.
“And Lita is going to make sure we have the best wedding video ever.” She smiled wider, her spirits lifting visibly. “I can’t wait.”
“Okay then, can we talk business for a little bit? I want to make sure everyone has the ground rules going in,” Lita said.
“I think that calls for drinks all around,” Jake said and headed to the outside bar. They all followed him onto the terrace as he played bartender.
“I’m here in a dual capacity this week, as a guest and as a journalist, so I think we need to be clear on how this goes. I’ll be conducting interviews with you, people in town, and chronicling the festivities up to, and including, the wedding.” She smiled at Callie, accepted her drink, and took a sip of the cool wine. “My cameraman, Eddie, will be around at certain times, and when he’s here, you should presume that he’s filming unless we say otherwise. But, unlike most interview sessions, you are off the record with me until I tell you we’re on. Any questions?”
“Yeah. I’ve got one.”
Everyone spun toward the voice. Low. Deep. So sexy it made her stupid.
She was the last to turn, knowing what she was going to find. Rocky. He was huge, a mountain of a man well over six feet and pushing two hundred twenty pounds of muscle. His dark hair was shoulder length with thick waves, a thick beard covering the strong line of his jaw, his eyes the sexiest color of dark coffee she’d ever seen. He was leaning in the door opening, arms crossed like a firmly muscled barrier to any part of him, eyes dark with distrust and anger. He looked at everyone but her.
And in spite of his obvious disdain, her stomach did the typical little tumble. Her heart sputtered, forcing her to take a deep breath to steady her nerves. She stomped it all down, getting control over her physical reaction in order to be able to fight the inevitable battle ahead.
“What’s your question, Rocky?” she asked, keeping her tone neutral.
Playing With the Drummer Page 1
