Rocked in Pieces

by Bayard, Clara

  Rocked in Pieces

  By Clara Bayard

  Copyright © 2014 by Clara Bayard

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  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  About this book

  Her big break is their last chance.

  When notorious gossip blogger Ellie Martin gets a gig with a new online network, she knows the hours will be long and the work challenging. Armed with her quick wit, a sassy new haircut and the only person she really trusts, the curvy beauty is confident she can make her professional dreams come true.

  The only thing standing in her way? The subjects of her new job, troubled rock band Dream Defiled. Tragedy and anger have left them barely hanging on to a huge tour that can make or break their careers and relationships, and Ellie is there to document every painful moment for the world to see.

  But the biggest surprise of all is the undeniable attraction Ellie feels for the band’s quietest member, the intelligent and mysterious Matthew. An attraction he feels too. As he reveals new and alluring aspects of himself, she has to wonder if there could be a lot more at stake than a new job. Like her heart.

  One

  The voice in my ear was tinny through the mic. “Throw to Ellie in five… four… three…”

  I smiled broadly as the countdown ended and began to speak into my microphone.

  “Thank you, Tex. I'm Ellie Martin, here in Louisville, Kentucky, for the second opening night of the Bright Dark Dreams Tour. That's right, folks. They’re trying again. In case you've been living under a rock, this tour – once hailed as the rebirth of the mega rock/pop tour – has been plagued by tragedy and drama. From the untimely accidental death of Dream Defiled’s manager to the numerous public meltdowns of the headliners, Bright Dark Dreams have been mostly dark. This may be the last chance the men of Dream Defiled have to make their dreams come true again. Tonight on Hot Sheet TV, we'll be catching you up on all the dirty details before my exclusive look behind the scenes as I join the tour – with an all access pass.”

  Big dumb grin and a pause until the control room gave me the all clear, and then I was free to sigh and roll my eyes at my cameraman. Was I making a huge mistake taking this job? If cheesy patter could kill, I was already at death’s door the first day.

  He chuckled as we broke down our equipment and piled everything back into the truck.

  “Don't laugh at me, Steven.”

  “Just be glad I didn't puke in the middle of your spot. Seriously, who is writing this copy?”

  “Someone truly lame,” I replied, shaking my head. “It’s even worse than the snarky punny crap I write, and that’s saying something.” As exciting as it was to get this new gig, it meant I spent more time promoting the site with cheesy quips than actually engaging in the informed and insightful commentary I'd supposedly been hired to provide. “What's the call time for tonight?”

  “Five. Plenty of time for you to trick the rock stars into trusting you.”

  “I wish. If they’ve read my columns, I’ll be lucky if they don’t try to kill me. Plus, these guys have had every camera in the world in their faces. And they were followed by a documentary crew for almost a year. They know all the tricks by now.”

  “Then you better come up with some new ones.”

  I smiled and smacked him on the arm. “Thanks a lot, dick. Remind me why I got you this job?”

  “Because I'm the best.” He tugged a little too hard on my hair. “And you know you always want your big brother around.”

  “Foster brother,” I droned reflexively, smiling. We joked about not really being related, but the truth was, Steven was my brother in every way that mattered. He was the only person who knew everything I’d been through, the only one who I could truly trust. Which was the real reason I’d made it a condition in my contract with Hot Sheet TV that he accompany me.

  I laughed to myself at the very idea of me not only making demands, but getting my way on such a huge project. Especially considering that a few weeks ago I was in a cubicle shitting out tired tales of celebrity exploits. And now I was about to document them firsthand. My life had gotten really fucking weird lately.

  “Earth to Ellie,” Steven said, snapping his fingers in my face.

  “What?”

  He shook his head. “Get your mind right, kid.”

  “Sorry.” I smoothed down my hair. “And don’t call me ‘kid’ you dick.”

  He grinned. “I’m never going to stop.”

  “And that’s why you’re a dick.”

  We shared a laugh as he stowed all the gear away with practiced ease while I looked around the stadium’s parking lot. There were a few other crews from local television stations, and a bunch of fans camping out.

  “Are they tailgating for a concert that doesn’t happen for three days?”

  Steven laughed. “Sure are. When I checked in the security guys were talking about it. Apparently they tried to kick them out, but the dumb asses keep coming back. As long as they’re not drinking openly or destroying anything, the stadium staff is letting them stay.”

  I shook my head, looking over the clump of people not much younger than me, sitting around in folding chairs and on sleeping bags. They were snacking and laughing and taking pictures. So carefree.

  “Can you imagine? Sleeping out here for no reason? I bet every one of them has a huge McMansion with two parents, a dog and probably a maid.”

  “Probably.”

  Something about it bugged me. “This is like urban camping for them or some shit.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  I could hear in Steven’s voice that he didn’t care. He was always so even-tempered about this kind of thing. It drove me crazy.

  “Stop humoring me.”

  “Why? You need to vent and your voice isn’t totally terrible background noise while I work.”

  That got a smile from me. “Shut up.”

  He closed the back door of the van and patted it. “Are you done griping for now? Can we go?”

  I rolled my eyes and cast one last look at the group of kids. Maybe I wasn’t so much annoyed as jealous. The kind of life they led was so different from mine. We might as well been from different planets. Hell, different solar systems.

  With a sigh I climbed into the car. I didn’t have time for thinking about shit that I couldn’t change. There was work to do.

  By the time we got back to the hotel and secured all of our gear, it was getting late and Steven was hungry. We ordered room service to my room so I could get changed while we waited for the food.

  I showered and washed my hair and was in the process of blow drying it when Steven barged into the bathroom.

  “What the hell? I could have been naked in here,” I chided, tugging my robe tighter around me.

  “Gross, El. You’ll make me lose my appetite.” He was grinning.

  “As if that’s possible. You’re a human garbage disposal.”

  “Damn right. And that’s why I came to tell you the grub’s here. Hurry up if you want any.”

  “Great. Thanks. Now get out.”

  He flipped me off and shut the door, laughing.

  I shook my head and went back to work on my hair, knowing he wasn’t kidding. Steven loved me enough to try to keep from devouring my food along wi
th his, but he only had so much self-control.

  “Figures,” I muttered to myself. “He eats everything in sight and I’m the one with the huge gut.” Not like the burger and fries waiting for me was going to help with that. But I was nervous and needed something yummy to distract me.

  My hair was dry quickly and I pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of yoga pants. I’d have time to finish getting ready after lunch. Good thing my hair was shorter now. For my new job I’d had it cut and styled somewhere I couldn’t really afford, hoping the combination of trendy bob and fun pink highlights would make me seem more confident than I actually felt. So far it wasn’t working, but at least I did look cute.

  When I opened the door to the bedroom, Steven was sitting on the edge of one bed in front of the food service cart, holding his burger in one hand and reaching for my fries with the other.

  “I will murder you right now, big brother,” I swore solemnly.

  He snatched his hand back and took a bite of his own damn food, saying, “Sorry,” with his mouth full.

  I giggled and went over to join him. We chowed down together, enjoying the quiet, private moment.

  With a mouthful of food muffling his voice, Steven sighed happily and elbowed me. “Can you believe this?”

  “What, your terrible manners? Yes. I’m used to them. Just try not to drop chewed burger bits on my bed, please.”

  He opened his mouth wide and grinned.

  I rolled my eyes and laughed.

  He swallowed. “Okay if I talk now, Princess?”

  I glared at him, finishing a hot crispy fry. “If you must.”

  “Brat. As I was saying, it’s kind of crazy, right? Two loser orphans with a van full of expensive camera equipment about to cross the country with a rock tour.”

  I nodded. “Don’t forget the credit card. Someone gave us access to their corporate account. Deal with that madness.”

  “That is the best part. If no one watches our videos at least we can run up a big bill before we get fired.”

  I frowned. “Nice. Very optimistic tone to set right before we get started.”

  “Bah, whatever. We’re going to do great. I’m a brilliant cameraman and you’re not too terrible. How can we fail?”

  Drowning another fry in ketchup, I thought for a moment. “Well, the band could refuse to speak to me. The HSTV site could crash and lose all our footage.”

  Steven slung an arm over my shoulder and laughed. “All true. ‘Very optimistic tone,’ Sis.”

  I elbowed him and then rested my head on his shoulder.

  He wiped off his hands on a napkin and tapped each of my fingers twice with his.

  I smiled at the familiar routine, watching his warm brown fingers against my pale ones, and counting out the gentle taps silently. “Thanks,” I whispered.

  “For what?”

  “For always knowing how to make me feel better even if it means annoying me.”

  “That is my sacred duty as your brother.”

  “Don’t forget it. I have a feeling I’m going to need it a lot over the next few weeks.”

  “No worries. I’ll never get tired of annoying you.” He grinned broadly and went back to devouring his food.

  Feeling calmer and more like myself, I joined in with a slight smile on my face.

  Once we finished eating, I shooed Steven out of the room and went to get dressed. I stood in front of the closet where I’d carefully hung the few outfits I thought I might need in town before we moved on. But suddenly, everything I’d chosen looked wrong. What could I wear to say everything I wanted? Did indigo dark jeans suggest confidence or lack professionalism? Would a silky, draped blouse hide my belly but show too much cleavage? Was a v-neck sweater classy or trying too hard?

  I groaned, shut my eyes and took five deep breaths. I was making myself crazy for no reason. There wasn’t a stich of clothing that would make this easier. Nothing I could wear would erase my nerves or make the band trust me.

  “When in doubt, pick something comfortable and flattering,” I advised myself. The dark jeans and the sweater. Casual, but nice. And the sweater had tiny flecks of pink that matched my highlights. I got dressed and pulled on a pair of low-heeled boots. After adding a few bangles I’d found at a dollar store I went back into the bathroom to apply a touch of makeup – knowing I’d have to do a full face for camera later – and smooth down my hair.

  I had my purse in my hand and was a foot from the door when another bout of nerves gripped me. I fled back to the mini bar, grabbed whatever was closest and went to go get Steven. I knew he’d tease me mercilessly about the liquid courage, but I could handle that. Meeting the four men who potentially held my entire future in their hands? Not something I was ready to face completely sober. Besides, I figured. They drank a lot, maybe a little hint of booze on my breath would help us bond.

  Two

  Standing in the mostly empty hotel bar, I felt like I was on a job interview. A rather unconventional one, but an interview no less. At the table in front of me sat my best chance for an ally. Becca Hall was on the phone and typing something into a tablet at the same time. She hadn’t looked up to notice me yet, and I took the time to size her up a bit, figure out the best plan of attack, so to speak.

  The blonde was pretty, even with stress and severe sleep deprivation written all over her face. She wore her hair pulled back in a low ponytail and had on jeans and a dark long-sleeve t-shirt. There was no makeup on her face that I could see other than some pink gloss on her lips. Her nails were trimmed short and bare. All of which told me what I’d expected about her. She was focused and busy, professional and unpretentious. The last one was impressive, considering her boyfriend was a smoking hot Brit rocker and her father a music legend. Not to mention that from what I’d managed to pull together, she’d been acting as the band’s road manager since the death of the previous one. Very impressive indeed.

  Finally, she looked up. Her eyes widened and she held up a finger telling me to wait.

  I nodded and was about to look away when she cursed softly.

  “Hold on one sec,” she said into the phone. “Ellie?”

  “Yes,” I replied. “I can wait a minute.”

  “Thanks, but at least sit down. Order a drink if you like.”

  I sank down into the chair across from her. “Thank you.”

  She smiled quickly and then went back to her call.

  While I waited, I looked around. When Steven and I had checked in, we’d been in such a hurry I hadn’t really paid attention to the hotel. It was much fancier than anyplace I’d ever stayed before, but that wasn’t saying much. Except for one very regrettable one-night stand, I’d never slept in a hotel room.

  Man, that’s kind of pathetic.

  I rolled my eyes and went back to checking out the bar and restaurant. Everything was black and shiny, from the floor to the chairs to the tables. Even the ceiling lights, the long, sleek bar and the glasses. At first it was weird, but then I noticed the people. Everyone looked amazing. Vibrant and glowing in the darkness. The drabbest clothes looked impeccable. The dullest hair gleamed. It had to be intentional. I dug it and wondered idly if I could do something similar in my studio apartment. Probably not, but… maybe.

  I was in the middle of estimating prices when Becca finished her call and returned her attention to me.

  “Sorry about that,” she said, crossing her legs. “I can’t promise it won’t ring again in five seconds.”

  “It’s no problem. I understand how busy you are. Thanks for agreeing to sit down with me.”

  She shrugged. “I’m happy to make time for it. I think us chatting for a few minutes will help things go a lot smoother.”

  “I agree.” I relaxed a little, glad to see she was open and friendly. Considering her history of having people she loves savaged by the entertainment press, I hadn’t expected her to be very welcoming.

  “Well, most of the guys are off doing their own thing right now, but they’ll be at the meeting at
five.”

  “Great. Oh, we don’t have to call it a meeting, really. I mostly just want to introduce myself and my camera guy, so we’ve met and got a chance to chat before we start shooting.”

  “Of course.” She scanned her eyes over something on her tablet. “I have the proposed shooting schedule here. The rest of the team is looking it over but we should be able to get any changes to you by tomorrow morning. Does that work?”

  “Sure. As long as we’re still on for tonight, everything else is flexible. We won’t need much footage up front, mostly background and color stuff to ramp up to the live interview.”

  “Okay, good. I don’t anticipate any problems with what you recommended, but I do have to run it by everyone.”

  “I get it.” I leaned back in my seat and smiled. “You should see the approval process for things on my end. The Hot Sheet raised a shit ton of money to start this new project, and they’re stuck in New York and Los Angeles while we and a few other teams are doing the work across the country.”

  Becca smiled, but the expression didn’t reach her eyes, and she didn’t say anything. I guessed we weren’t bonding about corporate bureaucracy like I’d thought.

  After a very long, very awkward silence, she picked up her phone and tapped at it for a while.

  I cleared my throat, not sure if I’d been dismissed or not.

  “Oh, sorry. Again. Lots to do. Is there anything else you want to go over?” Her voice was flat and distant.

  “Um, I guess not.”

  “Okay.” She looked up at me again. “I have one last thing.”

  “All right.”

  She smoothed down her already perfect hair and bit down on her lower lip before continuing. “Before you meet the guys, I just feel like I should make one thing clear.” She paused, tilting her head. “As everyone on Earth is aware, this has been a hard couple of months for all of us. This tour re-launch is incredibly important to the guys for both professional and personal reasons. And having you here can help a lot with the professional side. No question about that. But know this. At the first sign that anything you’re doing or saying is hurting them on a personal level, I’ll do everything in my power to shut it down. A bunch of guys in offices on both sides made this deal, but none of them are here. None of them care about the members of this band the way I do. I’m the one left to protect them, and I’ll do it. No matter what it takes.”