by Price, Sarah
The young girl smiled nervously. “You are different from the other celebrities,” the girl said. “You care about your fans. Really care!”
Amanda nodded. “Ja, I do. But I do not consider myself a celebrity. I’m just a person. Like you.”
“Oh, you are nothing like me!” the girl gushed. “You are so beautiful and so kind. I wish I could be just like you.”
Amanda frowned. “You are beautiful,” Amanda said. “And I imagine you are kind, too. But beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Lucille, and kindness is something you must work on every day. I know that I do, that’s for sure and certain.”
The mother spoke up. “You have no idea what this means to Lucille,” she said.
Amanda gave a wistful smile. “I’m sure I do not.”
“She has issues at school, you see.”
“Mom!”
Amanda glanced from one to the other. She saw a desperation in the eyes of the mother that was countered by the humiliation in the eyes of her daughter. Immediately, Amanda understood what must have happened. Even in the Amish community, the teenagers often socialized in groups. While bullying was rare among the Amish, it wasn’t completely unheard of.
They stopped in front of the greenroom, and Amanda gestured for them to step inside. She let them get a cold beverage before she sat down on the sofa.
“Lucille, I want to tell you a story,” Amanda said. “I had issues, too. Not at school though. But in my church. They did not treat me well after the paparazzi came to the farm and the bishop wanted me to leave my family.” She paused and glanced at the mother, who smiled in appreciation of Amanda’s story. “I felt very alone, Lucille. Mayhaps just like you feel sometimes, ja?”
Reluctantly, Lucille nodded.
“Ja, I thought so,” Amanda said tenderly. “Feeling different or feeling alone is never fun, is it? But you need to stand up for yourself and take back the control in your life. If I had not done that, I’d still be on a farm in Ohio and not married to Alejandro. And I certainly would not be sitting here with you.”
The girl lit up and nodded her head.
“Now, I must go for a few moments.” She looked over her shoulder at the security men. “Security will make certain you have everything you need, and they will escort you to meet Viper before the show starts. Then one of these men will escort you to front-row seats just before the opening act starts.” She leaned forward and hugged Lucille. “Make certain that you give them your social media information so I can follow you, ja?”
Lucille gasped and looked at her mother.
Amanda did not wait for a response. She stood up and started to shake hands with the mother. But the mother also gave her a hug.
“Thank you, Princesa. You have no idea what you have just done for my daughter.”
Amanda pulled back and peered into the mother’s face. “Ja, I think I do,” she said. “Probably the same thing that Alejandro did for me.” She gave the mother a soft smile. “Good luck with Lucille.”
Andres stood outside the door to escort her from the room, just as Enrique walked by. He glanced over her shoulder and saw the girl sitting there with her mother.
“What have we here?” he said, curious.
“My personal guest, Enrique,” she heard herself say in a voice that sounded stronger than she felt when she was around him.
“Oh, sí?” He gave her a grin and walked around her into the room.
Amanda took a deep breath and turned back, giving Andres a look that implored him to keep an eye on Enrique. Even though Andres did not respond, she knew he understood her. She needed to go change her dress before the VIP Meet and Greet and did not want to leave Lucille and her mother alone with Enrique, even for a few minutes.
To her surprise, Enrique merely posed for a photo with the girl before grabbing a cold beer from the beverage table. He untwisted the top and tossed it across the room at the garbage can but missed. A few other people walked into the room, one of them a reporter, who immediately sat next to Amanda’s guests and began speaking with them. Satisfied that they were safe from Enrique’s roguish ways, Amanda retreated to her dressing room, where her small team of people would help her dress and fix her makeup before meeting more fans.
Chapter Fourteen
In the morning, Amanda woke early to find that Alejandro was not beside her. Curious, she slid out from beneath the sheets and quietly padded across the room. The double doors to their bedroom were shut to the outer living area. She had just started to open them when she heard voices on the other side of the doors. Geoffrey, Eddie, and Carlos were talking with Alejandro. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that it was not quite eight o’clock. She couldn’t imagine what was so important they would already be meeting at such an early hour, at least for them.
She hurried to the bathroom to get changed and fix her hair before joining the men.
“Ten-percent increase overnight,” Eddie said, handing Alejandro a piece of paper. “The numbers are printed here for each of the social media outlets.” He pointed to a line on the paper. “Check out the chatter numbers on Twitter.”
Amanda crossed the room and placed her hand on Alejandro’s shoulder.
He looked up at her and gave her a quick smile.
“So early,” she said. “Everything alright, then?”
He nodded, gesturing for her to sit in the empty chair beside him. Then he motioned for Carlos to bring her a coffee.
“Reviewing the impact on social media from your interaction with the crowd last night, Amanda.”
“From last night?”
He nodded and slid the paper across the table so that she could look at it. “Almost half a million new followers added to your social currency.”
She stifled a yawn. Social media. Social currency. It seemed like that was all she heard about it. She looked down the rows and columns on the paper; the names and numbers looked like a foreign language to her. “Is that good?”
Alejandro laughed at her innocent question. “Sí, Amanda, very good.”
Eddie glanced down at another folder in his hands. “And two entertainment stations contacted your guys in Miami last night requesting interviews about her.”
“Only two?” Alejandro lifted an eyebrow as though he was disappointed with that news. To her surprise, he said, “Deny both of them. That will up the interest for an exclusive.”
Amanda pushed the paper back to Alejandro as Carlos set down a mug of coffee for her. She gave him a quick smile of appreciation and lifted it to her lips, enjoying the feeling of the warm liquid sliding down her throat. Only when she set down the mug again did she trust her voice. “All from walking through the floor and taking that girl backstage?”
“Sí, Amanda. That was just brilliant.”
She didn’t see what was so brilliant about it, but she was glad they were pleased.
Geoffrey must have sensed her lack of comprehension, for he tried to break it down for her. “You see, the larger your presence, the more powerful your combined social currency.”
“Oh?”
“For marketing, Amanda. New people to reach for promoting products: concerts, albums, merch.”
She still didn’t get it. “If Viper has such a big following, wouldn’t my interacting with his fans mean that those new followers are only a subset of his?”
Alejandro looked at her with curiosity. “Go on,” he encouraged.
“I mean, they love Viper, attend a concert, and find Princesa because of him, ja?” She felt ridiculous referring to herself as Princesa, but had come to understand that these meetings, which usually took place on airplanes or during long rides in buses, were about marketing products, not people. When it came to Viper and Princesa, it was the image that people bought into and wanted to connect with, not the real people behind it. “Mayhaps reaching new people would be more meaningful if you introduce them to the real product: Viper.”
Geoffrey glanced at Alejandro before he responded. “What do you have in mind?”
>
She shrugged. “Vell, back in Lititz, when I lived there, I always had a garden. If I have one garden plot and I invite someone else to plant in it, I still only produce the same amount of vegetables, even if they are working that section, ja? It doesn’t really help me. Oh, mayhaps I have less work because they are doing some of that, but I also have less reward, ja? Now, if I expand the garden plot and let that person plant there, in the previously unplanted section, we increased the production of the crops. Mayhaps we need to expand the garden plot, if that’s what is so important. Reaching new people, I mean.”
“Interesting,” Alejandro said slowly. “Princesa does appeal to many different audiences.”
She nodded. “That girl last night . . . her mother brought her to the concert, ja? But is the mother part of your audience? Maybe reach out to the mothers who are struggling with their dochders, like this mother was struggling.” She realized that the three men were staring at her and suddenly she felt self-conscious, worrying she had said too much. She reached for her mug. “Mayhaps that’s a silly thing to say,” she said, wishing that she had not spoken out loud.
Alejandro leaned forward. “No, no. You might have something there. Those mothers come with their children to the concerts, sí? But they do not care about the music. If we gave them something to care about, that would expand our audience. Perhaps a private meeting with Princesa before the concert?”
She almost choked on her coffee. “What?”
Alejandro ignored her stunned expression and continued talking to Geoffrey. “Special tickets to talk with her backstage and then seating in the first ten rows.”
Amanda’s mouth fell open. “Talk with me? About what?”
“Simplicity. Self-esteem.”
Immediately, she shook her head. She couldn’t imagine that she would have anything important to share with these girls. “Oh no, that’s not for me. I can’t do that.”
Geoffrey dismissed her concerns by saying, “Princesa, you are already doing that. You just don’t realize it.”
But she remained firm. “Nee, Alejandro. I cannot talk to these people about that. Please don’t ask me to do that.”
Alejandro ignored her plea. “Think of school visits. These young girls have such low self-esteem. They need an ambassador of goodwill to help them realize their worth.”
Eddie nodded his head in agreement. “The younger women . . . the girls . . . they have poor self-image.”
Geoffrey gave a harsh laugh. “And how.” He glanced at Amanda. “They need a role model, Amanda.”
Now it was Alejandro’s turn. “And they already adore you, mi amor. Now we must find ways to capitalize on it to expand our other products. Cross marketing, sí?”
Amanda groaned and sank back into her chair.
Eddie tried to hide a smile while Alejandro laughed at her reaction. “You should have stayed in bed, sí? Waited for me to wake you up,” he said, leaning over to put his arm around her shoulders and pulling her toward him. He kissed her temple and gave her a gentle squeeze as he whispered, “Now you will know better next time.”
She blushed and lowered her eyes, too aware that the other men were laughing at her embarrassment.
The door opened and Enrique entered. He wore the same clothes from the previous night; they had all gone clubbing. His hair looked disheveled and, even indoors, he wore his sunglasses. “Yolo!” he said cheerfully and made a beeline for the coffee. “You ready to record, Viper?”
Alejandro released Amanda and his cheerful demeanor changed to irritation. “Walk of shame, chico?”
Enrique laughed to himself, downing one cup of black coffee before pouring himself another one. “Shame or glory: depends on how you look at it.”
Alejandro glanced at his watch. “It’s after eight o’clock.” If there was one thing that riled up Alejandro, it was tardiness. Amanda sensed his frustration and lowered her gaze away from Enrique and his bedraggled appearance.
“I’m on Parisian time, man. Eight o’clock means eight thirty, nine!” When he pulled off his sunglasses, it was clear from his glazed and bloodshot eyes that he’d stayed out partying long after Alejandro and Amanda had left last night. “Besides, I didn’t want to be rude to my company.”
That’s it, Amanda thought, disgusted with Alejandro’s colleague. How Alejandro put up with him was a mystery to her, although she reminded herself that, at one time, Alejandro had been no different. Amanda stood up, not wanting to stay in his presence. Gloating over his previous night’s conquest was Enrique’s specialty, and not something she wanted to be privy to. “Mayhaps I’ll see if Celinda’s up for breakfast downstairs, ja?”
At the mention of Celinda’s name, Enrique laughed once again. “She’s not. I can personally attest to that.”
For a moment, Amanda felt as if the floor fell out from beneath her feet. She remembered seeing Celinda and Enrique dancing when she’d left with Alejandro. With so many people together, Amanda hadn’t given it a second thought, although some of their moves on the dance floor were provocative and a little too sensual for Amanda’s taste.
She refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing his insinuation bothered her. Without another word, she walked to the bedroom, eager to leave the presence of a man who still stunk from last night’s sins.
As she shut the door, she heard Alejandro scolding him. “Come on, papito. Why you gotta be like that with her?”
Enrique responded with another laugh. If he answered, she didn’t care to know how. She sat down at the chair by the window, focusing her attention on the street below, where regular people walked down the sidewalks on their way to regular jobs, oblivious to the fact that they were being watched by the very woman who graced the cover of the morning paper. It was better that way, she thought. Watching them gave her a sense of reality, an escape from “la vida loca” that she had not only married into but of which she was now a contracted member.
If anyone needed role models, she thought angrily, it wasn’t the people walking in the streets below but many of the very people they looked up to, that was for sure and certain.
When she finally saw Celinda, it was backstage at the arena as they prepared for the evening show. Celinda breezed into the room, practically floating on air as she headed to the table set up with food. When she saw Amanda, she smiled, grabbed a soft drink, and hurried over to plop down on the sofa beside her.
“What’d you do today?”
“Alejandro took me to the Notre-Dame Cathedral and for a walk along the Seine. And you?” Amanda tried to sound neutral, knowing that Celinda’s choices would be judged by someone far more important than herself.
Celinda gave a little shrug. “Not much. Stayed in bed most of the day.”
They were interrupted by some of the crew members, who barely greeted them as they hurried to grab some food before it disappeared.
“Paris is beautiful,” Amanda said. “Did you know that during World War II the townspeople took the stained-glass windows out of the cathedral piece by piece so they wouldn’t be damaged?”
Celinda glanced at the door behind Amanda as she responded. “I did not.”
“Ja, and the statues on the inside. Why, they are just the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen . . .” She hesitated as she thought back to the opulence of the cathedral. “Nee, the paintings were beautiful, too. Ach, I don’t think I can decide between the two of them!” she declared, tossing her hands in the air.
Laughing at her, Celinda leaned her head back and shut her eyes. “I’ll have to take your word for it. I’m too tired to do just about anything right now.”
Amanda wanted to remind her that she had just said she spent the day in bed, but she didn’t want to pry. Besides, it was Celinda’s choice to stay out too late the previous night and to waste a perfectly fine late-spring day in Paris. As for Amanda, she was glad that she had not missed seeing the cathedral.
One of the stagehands walked into the room. “Celinda, a change in the set list tonight,�
�� he said and handed her a piece of paper.
“Tonight?” She groaned. “They expect me to actually remember a new set list? Just when I was used to the other set list.” Her eyes scanned the paper and a smile crossed her lips as color rose to her cheeks.
Amanda couldn’t help but wonder what type of change would bring such a reaction.
Celinda looked over at Amanda and, with a girlish giggle, handed her the paper. Amanda scanned it but couldn’t immediately see what was different. Then, on her second look, she saw the big change: Celinda would be performing two songs with Enrique, one of them a song called “Loving You Last Night.” Disgusted, Amanda handed the paper back to her friend.
“I got together with him last night,” Celinda whispered.
So I figured, Amanda wanted to say. But she reminded herself that it was not up to her to judge others.
“He’s really not as bad as you think,” Celinda gushed, her hands clenched together and pressed under her chin.
Amanda wanted to warn Celinda that he was much worse than what she’d originally thought. His inference to having slept with Celinda that morning was crude and inappropriate. It was bad enough that he engaged in such reckless behavior, but there was no excuse for sharing the story with other people.
“I thought you loved Justin,” Amanda said at last.
“Why, of course I love him!” Celinda responded hastily. “But we’re apart now, and a little Enrique-dating-Celinda news being leaked to the Shiny Sheet or onto social media would not necessarily be a bad thing, Amanda.”
Amanda couldn’t imagine loving one man and sleeping with another. She said a quick prayer, thanking God that she would never be in such a situation. While she may have become more worldly, she still had her morals.
Chapter Fifteen
The car had barely stopped when Amanda opened the door and jumped out. She had been counting down the days, waiting for their return to Lititz. Despite her daily phone calls to her family, she often had to leave messages for Anna, who did not always carry the phone with her or sometimes forgot to charge it. Based on the lack of returned calls, Amanda suspected she didn’t check the voice mail too often either. But on the few occasions when Amanda had managed to talk to Isadora, her heart felt as if it broke all over again.
