The Monster of Fame (The Price of Fame Series)

by Duffy, Aimée

  Miles laughed at her frustrated rant and she found herself unable to take her eyes off him. Straight, pearly teeth shone between his parted lips and she was distracted by remembering the feel of those lips on hers.

  “Well, how about something older? Have you ever heard I Know Him So Well?”

  Anna nodded. She loved that song, her gran used to play Barbara’s records around the house. “I never thought of that.” She was getting more excited by the second. It didn’t last long though. “But that’s not on the discs. I checked them all.” There was no way she’d be able to find that song, change it, and rehearse it properly before Saturday. For one, she wasn’t great at remixing music.

  “I know.” They were outside now. The mid-day July sun shone down on them from above and she noticed that there was barely a cloud in the sky. Even the drab, concrete parking lot looked almost pretty on such a nice day.

  Anna inhaled the warm air and turned to Miles. His forehead was creased like he was having an internal debate about something.

  “Thanks. I’ll just have to think of something else.” But even as she said it, she knew that was a lie. Where and how? That wasn’t Miles’s problem though. He had his own acts to watch out for.

  She turned to walk away, but he caught her by the arm and turned her around. A jolt of heat shot up from his touch. “Wait. Can’t Safri get it for you?”

  Anna shrugged. “I’ve not been able to get in touch with her this week.”

  His scowl was filled with rage, but she thought she could see a flicker of guilt in his eyes. Weird. “I’ll help you. I can download the song and we can work on it tonight if you want.”

  “Isn’t that against the rules?” she asked.

  The guilt and anger vanished and a warm smile curved his lips. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

  Anna couldn’t help herself, she grinned back at him, feeling like a load had been lifted off her shoulders.

  * * * *

  Miles opened the door to his flat, nerves and excitement almost overwhelming him at the thought of spending the evening with Annabelle. Of course, it wasn’t like she was there to see him. She was there because he’d offered to help.

  Her smile lit up her face and he was lost for a moment, gazing into her wide, blue eyes. Her top was the same color and only made them brighter. “Hey,” he managed to choke out before clearing his throat. “Come in.”

  She did and glanced around the hallway with her lips parted. For a moment, he was thrown back to the night he had his mouth on hers, remembering the feel of her soft breasts crushed against his chest and the silky feeling of her dark red curls sliding through his fingers.

  His heart started thrumming out an unsteady rhythm, pumping heated blood around his body. He turned quickly and led her down the hallway.

  He bought the flat a few years ago. The stylish, yet minimal space screamed ‘bachelor pad’. No woman who ever visited would get the impression that he was a family guy from this house and that’s exactly how he liked it—after all, he didn’t deserve a family of his own. Not that he had many women back to his home, especially since the incident when his little boy soldier wouldn’t stand to attention.

  Off-white walls showcased prints, some replicas of famous pieces, others designer canvasses picked out by his interior designer. They passed the front room, his game room—which he’d never used since he’d bought the place—and continued on to the room at the end which was supposed to be for dining. Miles, however, had redone it like a mini recording studio for when he brought his work home with him.

  Machinery was crammed into almost every corner and there was a drop down mic in the center of the ceiling. He mostly used this room for remixes.

  “Wow, it’s…wow.” Annabelle gasped.

  A smile tugged the corners of his lips despite the shame threatening to engulf him.

  “It does the job.” Miles sauntered over to the sound system and hit play. “Let me know what you think.”

  The music blared out of the surround sound speakers in an upbeat rendition of the song he’d suggested. The words were the same, but he wanted to modernize it so he underlined the slow piano music with a subtle drum beat.

  “It’s great, Miles! Um, I’m guessing it goes something like this?” Annabelle began to sing the chorus, almost the way he’d imagined, led solely by the music.

  He swallowed against the rising lump in his throat. He nodded.

  “Can I practice some more? I think I went a bit off key.”

  “Of course. That’s why you’re here.” And it was why he spent all afternoon putting more effort into this piece of music than he’d ever spent on any of his client’s songs, just so he could hear her sing and spend time with her. Both were becoming unhealthy necessities for him.

  Annabelle closed her eyes and listened to the music all the way to the end. When it finished she opened them. “I think I’ve got it.”

  He hit the play button again and watched her. She met his gaze head on—for the first time—and began to sing. The blue depths of her eyes were filled with joy and gratitude, while her whole face lit up. Pride inflated his chest as he watched her and listened to her bell-like voice, softer than an angel’s, yet more powerful than some opera singers.

  Here, with him, she wasn’t nervous or weak. Her eyes were wide open. She was just a woman singing her heart out and enjoying herself completely. In that moment, Miles wished Annabelle was strong. He wished from the bottom of his heart she was the kind of person who could survive in this industry. If she was, she would be spectacular.

  “I think I’ve nailed it,” Annabelle said some time later with a huge grin.

  Miles smiled back, but held off on telling her exactly how much she’d nailed it. He didn’t want to encourage her too much, but he couldn’t bear to see her in the bottom three again either.

  He slipped the disc out of the player and put it in a case. “Here,” he said, handing it over to her.

  “Thanks, Miles.” Annabelle beamed, rose up on her tiptoes and then kissed his cheek. Before he could react, she stepped back. “You’re a life saver. I’d have ended up singing the Highland Fling or something just as horrible.”

  He barked out a laugh. “I bet you’d make it good.” It was getting easier and easier to be with her. Without stress or worry weighing her down, Annabelle was a kindred spirit, all smiles and happiness, and she made him feel lighter than he’d ever felt before.

  “I better get going, it’s getting late.”

  A glance at the clock told him it was almost midnight. His brows furrowed and his light mood instantly shifted. He didn’t want her to leave. “You could stay, have a drink, and I’ll call you a cab later,” he suggested.

  The surprise in her eyes made his blood pound in his ears. What if she said no? After a moment, the smile she’d been sporting all night came back. “Sounds like a plan.” Her conspiratorial wink was so adorable and artlessly sexy that he wanted to crush his lips to hers.

  “What’s your poison?”

  “Do you have wine?” she asked hopefully.

  He nodded and escorted her through to the lounge, one hand on the small of her back. She shivered at his touch and his palm seemed to tingle in response.

  After gesturing to the large cream sofa, he walked over to the mini-bar at the end of the lounge, removed a bottle of wine from the fridge, and poured two glasses. He brought them over to the sofa and handed her one, sinking down next to her and running an arm along the edge behind her back. She didn’t flinch away from his proximity, nor did she look uncomfortable, and he smiled to himself, without knowing why this pleased him.

  “You have a lovely home. This room’s bigger than the ground floor of my house,” she observed, her gaze taking in the strategically placed prints on the walls, the large fireplace which radiated heat and appeared to flame, but in actual fact was only a mixture of ribbon like strips. “Don’t you ever get lonely here all by yourself?”

  Her question was so unexpected that he was
shocked into telling her the truth. “Sometimes,” he admitted, and then regretted the admission when he saw the concern filling her expression.

  Annabelle placed her hand on top of his and squeezed. “I’m sorry. That was none of my business.”

  He reached out and tucked a curl behind her ear, trailing his fingers down the column of her throat before he pulled his hand back. Her skin flushed pink and those crystal-like eyes darkened. She was so sweet and caring. He’d not met anyone like her in a long, long time.

  “It’s okay,” he assured her. And it was. This was the first time in years he’d not felt like he was suffocating in a cloud of depression and grief. She was helping him just by being there.

  Another sparkling smile spread across her face before she took a sip of wine. He asked, “What’s Limekilns like?”

  “It’s a seaside village on the East coast of Fife. In the summer, the beach and harbor are always swarming with tourists and locals. Everything is really old, but full of charm. The little houses along the waterfront and shops have a magical quality…” Her excited babble trailed off, and a look of utter defeat and despair clouded her expression.

  “Annabelle, what’s wrong?” He shifted closer to her and tilted her chin up with his finger.

  Her breath caught and her eyes flew open in surprise. “Nothing,” she whispered, but he knew it wasn’t true. Her gaze flickered to the side as she answered. Still, he didn’t press her, instead he ran his thumb along the length of her lower lip.

  Dazed by the darkening of her eyes, he tried to rein in his composure. It wouldn’t be fair to kiss her now, not because she was on another team, hell not even because he knew it wouldn’t be able to lead to anything. He couldn’t kiss her because if he did, he wouldn’t want her to go home to that little village she so obviously loved. With a sigh he realized that he would have to let her go, whether he wanted to or not.

  He released her chin and relaxed back into the sofa. “It will work out all right in the end, you know. I promise.” Her family’s debt troubles couldn’t be that bad. If they were at the point of being kicked out, the press would have had it in black and white by now.

  Eyes wary, she asked, “What do you mean?”

  “I mean in general. Things have a way of working themselves out.”

  She pondered that for a moment, chewing on the corner of her lip before taking another sip of wine. “Have things worked out for you?”

  Startled, he took a gulp of his wine to give him some time to think. Yes, some things had turned out all right. His company was doing better than ever and he’d won the show the last few years running, which not only boosted his bank balance, but also encouraged some of the biggest names in showbiz to come to him.

  Other than work, had everything else worked out for him? He thought about the lingering guilt of his wife’s death, the empty feeling he had in this house by himself, and the fact that his manhood was on the fritz. No, things hadn’t worked themselves out for him—not completely—but he didn’t deserve it anyway.

  “Mostly,” he lied. He supposed his business and success should take up a big part of his life, but he felt empty inside. Money didn’t seem to matter very much anymore.

  The corners of her mouth turned down as if something he said displeased her. “But you have everything…” Her eyes grew wide and remorseful. “Sorry. That was insensitive of me.”

  A lump formed in his throat and his chest tightened—with remembered grief, he told himself. She remembered. Most women and men looked at him and thought he had everything he could ever want. She didn’t and it was refreshing, even though he didn’t know what it was he wanted. How could he want to be rid of the grief and guilt over losing the woman he loved when he deserved far worse for not stopping her from killing herself?

  Annabelle rose and placed her wine on the mahogany coffee table. “I better get going, it’s late.”

  He couldn’t ask her to stay this time. He felt too raw with his emotions so close to the surface. She had a way of seeing right through him, to the very heart of who he was, but he didn’t need that right now. Besides, tonight was supposed to be about helping her with a song, since Safri was too much of a selfish witch to do it herself.

  “I’ll drive you home,” he said, placing his half full glass on the table next to hers. The corners of her lips turned up a little, but her eyes were still wary. “You weren’t being insensitive, Annabelle,” he assured her, reaching out and running his thumb down her cheek. “Most people assume I have everything I want. Truth is, I have more than I deserve.”

  Why did he tell her that? What the hell was he thinking? Lately he was wondering whether he was going mad. Annabelle studied his face for a moment and he hoped his regret didn’t show there. Thankfully, she didn’t ask the dreaded ‘why’. Instead, she picked up her purse and the CD he’d burned for her.

  Miles smiled in gratitude and went to get his car keys. He’d never told a soul the way he felt about Cassie’s death, he didn’t think he could. But more and more, especially in her company, he wanted to tell her. Everything.

  That would be a mistake.

  He had no idea what Annabelle thought of him. However, telling her would surely change her opinion greatly. After all, how could anyone feel anything other than disgust for a man who let his own wife die?

  * * * *

  After a quick shower, Annabelle returned to her room and slipped the CD Miles burned for her into her boom box-like music player. She wasn’t practicing; she just wanted to hear the music he obviously spent a great deal of time mixing for her.

  As the first melody chimed out from the speakers, her heart gave a little jolt and a warmth spread through her chest. She sighed blissfully and lay back on her crisp purple bedsheets.

  Although last night she was sure she put her foot in her mouth a few times, Miles seemed okay with it. Being sensitive about death didn’t come easily to her. She’d never experienced that kind of grief and couldn’t even imagine how it would affect someone. Still, she could see the emotions, more powerful than any she’d felt, shining from his enchanting eyes and had to try to make him feel better.

  Not wanting to delve too far into his private life, she tried to lighten the conversation in the car, opting for friendly banter and goading him about the competition. Even then, his smiles didn’t quite reach his eyes and she’d wondered if she’d messed up again.

  When he dropped her off though, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and held her cheek for a few moments, like he’d done earlier. Her heart had been jolting again then too and a warm, liquid sensation swirled in her stomach.

  Maybe Miles Oliver wasn’t indifferent to her. After losing his wife, he probably felt guilty about caring for someone else. Anna thought that’s what he meant when he said he didn’t deserve the things he had. But he did, and he deserved all those things he needed too.

  She’d googled his wife last night when she arrived back at the shared house.

  Cassie Oliver was a beautiful woman, but in the pictures of her from more recent years she looked far too slim for her tall frame. Her olive skin and dark hair still looked healthy, but Anna thought makeup may have had a lot to do with that. Especially knowing she was hiding a drug addiction.

  She rolled over on the bed and snatched her phone from the bedside table. After hitting the application for EconEkt, she waited while it loaded.

  Maybe the guilt she’d seen occasionally in Miles’s eyes was because he missed the signs. It was a silly thing to feel guilty about. Anna knew only too well that people with addictions were experts at hiding them. Take her dad for example. The man was addicted to gambling. Horses and dogs were his favorite, but from time to time, he’d tell her mother he was working the night shift and then clear out their account for spending money at the casino in town.

  Irritation flared through her, taking the happy warm glow away, and she pushed the memories back. Her dad was gone now—and good riddance. He wasn’t going to get her down again.

>   Her home screen popped up and she scrolled through all the encouraging messages. Some from friends, Jess especially, but most of them from people she didn’t even know. They’d all been so supportive over the last week that she didn’t feel half as bad about being at the bottom as she thought she would. Still, she hadn’t posted since, having spent most of the week running around like a headless chicken searching for this week’s song.

  Hey guys. Thanx for the support. Really glad Miles gave me another chance. This week I’ve got something better in the pipeline. Hope you all like it x

  She hit send and noticed the warm feeling was back tenfold. Thinking of Miles did that, and thinking of Miles was something she was doing on a regular basis these days. Especially since he seemed to be less and less controlling. Maybe there was hope for them after all.

  * * * *

  Frustration and betrayal were making her voice falter. Annabelle sighed as Safri shook her head fiercely and held a hand up. “You’re killing it, Anna. Focus,” she demanded sharply, and Anna bit her tongue to stop the rude retort from flooding out.

  On Thursday, Safri had actually appeared at the house to see what Anna was going to sing tonight. She’d told her about the song Miles downloaded, with a happy sparkle in her voice. Safri instantly shot the song down, saying it was too old-fashioned.

  When Anna protested, Safri pointed out that Miles was in this competition to win it and as Anna was one of the stronger acts, he’d obviously give her something that could hurt her chances of going through. Now, she was trying to sing a modern rock song by a famous Scottish band, knowing full well it didn’t suit her voice.

  A part of her still didn’t believe it though. Miles had put her through last week while her mentor was ready to chuck her out. But Safri hadn’t left her with much choice and demanded that she sing this song. If Miles had given her the song to destroy her chances, why did he want her to stay after the rehearsal? And why would he bother to be so nice to her? Still, Anna couldn’t deny that Safri’s logic made sense. If he wanted to win, making sure she left would thin out the competition.