Maybe he remembered his dream and is afraid of what might come out of his mouth if I stay over.
I drop him at his apartment, only remaining long enough to change back into my other clothes. He walks me to my car, looking guilty. “Bria, I want …”
I wait five whole seconds for him to finish his thought. “It’s okay. You’re right. We both need sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Text me when you get home.”
I see him in my rearview mirror watching me as I pull out of the parking lot. And on the way home, I write a song in my head about the mercurial man I think I might be in love with.
Chapter Twenty-six
Crew
It’s our last day in the recording studio, and we’re putting the finishing touches on our second album. Bria’s in the booth, re-recording some of her parts. We lock eyes as she sings the lines we wrote together. Damn, she’s good. Bringing her onboard is the best thing we’ve ever done. We killed it this week. Bria and I sound better than ever.
Sometimes I wonder why she puts up with me, though. It’s been two weeks since I called her by Abby’s name. Neither of us has mentioned it. She’s figured out Abby was a big deal to me. I’m pretty sure Bria realizes that when I fuck things up, it’s not because I don’t like her. But tension is growing between us, and not in a good way.
“We’re going to get rich from this,” Garret says, coming up behind me.
Garrett always says that, which is strange, considering he has a trust fund waiting for him. But I hope one day it will be true. Money would be nice, but I just want to be on a stage, singing to thousands of people, and I want Bria right up there with me.
“You good with that?” Jake, the sound engineer, asks Ronni.
“Yes. We can break for lunch now.”
It doesn’t slip past me that Ronni rarely gives Bria a compliment though she raves about the group as a whole. It must be a woman thing. They’re both beautiful but in very different ways. Maybe that’s intimidating to them.
Ronni takes me to the conference room, where a catered lunch is spread on a table. “There’s a charity benefit in the city next Thursday. I’d like you to go with me. It would be good exposure.”
“I’ll check our schedule and make sure everyone’s free.”
“I’m not inviting Reckless Alibi. I’m inviting Chris Rewey.”
I give her a sideways look. “Why would we need exposure for me and not the band?”
“I’m looking out for you,” she says. “You have a big future in the music business.”
My bandmates are digging into a pile of sandwiches, and I wonder when Bria will show up. “Ronni, I’m part of Reckless Alibi. We’re a package deal. I don’t have a future without them.”
“I think you’re wrong, but don’t come as a singer then. Come as my date.”
Liam overheard Ronni. He stops eating mid-bite.
“Maybe Jeremy didn’t tell you, but I’m with Bria.”
Her lips curl in disgust. “You and Brianna? No. That’s a train wreck waiting to happen. I forbid it.”
Everyone in the room is listening to our conversation, and I’m glad Bria isn’t here yet. I reach for a plate. “It’s not a train wreck. We’ve signed papers protecting the band if anything were to happen.”
She addresses Jeremy. “Is that what the addendum was all about? You should have been up front with me. I’d have advised against any personal relationships among band members.”
“I advised them against it too, but do you know what happens when you tell someone they can’t do something? Forbidden fruit, Ronni. I took measures to protect the band, that’s all. There’s nothing more we can do.”
She growls and turns to me. “How serious is it?”
“I don’t know,” I say, taking a sandwich. “We go out sometimes. It’s no big deal.”
“No big deal, huh?” She scowls.
“That’s right.”
Bria comes in, and everyone looks at her. “Did I suck or something?”
“You were great,” I say. “Wasn’t she great, guys?”
Everyone agrees. Everyone but Ronni.
All through lunch, Ronni sits across the room, appraising me, appraising Bria.
“Brianna, you need to cut your hair,” Ronni says frigidly.
I protest mildly, “I don’t think that’s necessary. Guys dig chicks with long hair.”
“It’s true,” Liam says. “We do.”
“It’s unkempt,” Ronni says.
Bria looks offended. “Are you calling me sloppy?”
“Your hair is perfect,” I whisper to her. “Don’t listen to her.”
“I have to agree with Crew and Liam on this,” Jeremy says. “We want men and boys to follow us as much as we want women and girls. Bria’s beautiful. The young generation would even call her hot.” He smiles at Bria. “No disrespect.”
“None taken.”
Ronni clearly disagrees with him. “But I’m putting my foot down on the highlights. She needs them. Brown hair is boring. She needs to look more edgy.”
“What do you say, Bria?” Jeremy asks. “In the name of compromise, will you consider highlights? I think you’d look spectacular.”
She shrugs. “I could try it. It’s something I can undo if I don’t like it.”
“I’ll set it up,” Ronni says. “I know a stylist in the city. I’ll have him reach out to you.”
“I’ll go with you,” I tell her. “It might be fun.”
“Be sure to tell him no haircut,” Bria tells her.
Ronni gets up, leaving her plate for someone else to clean up. “Jake said he wants you both in the booth for the track-eight chorus. After that, we’ll work on Liam’s riff on track eleven.”
Track eight is ‘On That Stage.’ It’s become one of our favorite songs to sing together.
After Ronni leaves, Bria throws her plate in the trash, covers the remaining food, and stashes it in the studio fridge. She’ll take it home; she’s been doing it all week. It makes me feel bad that she relies on leftovers to feed herself. The money hasn’t exactly been flowing in lately. We’ve been working more on the album than onstage performances. It’s been tough on most of us, having to put what little we do make back into the band, but especially on her, as she lives in the city. I wish I could help, but I’m barely scraping by.
Before I return to the booth, I take Jeremy aside. “Is there anything we can do to help Bria with expenses? She drives an hour both ways to rehearsal, five times a week. It hasn’t been easy.”
“We’re operating on a shoestring budget as it is,” he says. “Maybe she should move to Stamford, or even better, one of the towns nearby. Rent would be a lot cheaper, and she wouldn’t have to use her car as much.”
“I don’t know if she’d do that. Her brother lives in the city, and they’re very close.”
“I’ll ask Ronni if IRL will front her some money.”
“Don’t do that. They’re relationship is tenuous at best. We don’t need to make it worse.”
“Agreed.”
“I’ll think of something,” I say.
“I don’t doubt that you will.” He pats me on the back. “I’ll try, too.”
When I join Bria in the booth, she’s already got her headphones on and Jake has her singing so he can calibrate the synthesizer. I’m glad she doesn’t have to cut her hair. I like it the way it is. I pretty much like everything about her.
The music starts. Bria sings, then stops.
I missed my cue. “Sorry. Can we start again?”
She knows why I messed up. For the next half hour, we watch each other as we sing the chorus over and over until Jake is one hundred percent satisfied.
The way she looks at me when we sing. It’s like her hunger and need match mine. I’m surprised I don’t have a boner.
Hours later Ronni calls it a wrap. Jeremy pulls out several bottles of champagne, and we toast to the completion of our second album.
<
br /> “Give me a month to get a couple of these tracks on the radio,” Ronni says. “We’ll need that much time to master and market it.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Liam says. “More songs on the radio. I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”
“I have something else for you to drink to,” she says. “I spent the better part of the afternoon on the phone and I’ve lined up a performance next Friday at the most exclusive club in New York City. The band that was booked cancelled. I want you to sing your new stuff, so make sure you rehearse plenty. I’ll get you a playlist in a few days.” She turns to Bria. “And get that hair done.”
Jake finally kicks us out at seven. I hang back, knowing Bria doesn’t want the others, especially Ronni, seeing her take the leftover food.
She has the bag from the fridge in her hand when Jeremy walks in. Her cheeks flame. “It shouldn’t go to waste. You know, with all the starving kids in Africa and all.”
Jeremy hands me an unopened bottle of champagne. “Maybe you kids can put this to good use.”
“Don’t mind if we do,” I say.
He hands an envelope to Bria.
“What’s this?”
“A little something to help cover your gas. I know you travel a lot to and from the city.”
“Where did this come from?” I ask.
“Dirk,” he says. “He asked me to give it to her.”
I narrow my eyes at him. We only talked about this a while ago. How could Dirk have given him money?
In the envelope is a stack of fifty-dollar bills. I take it from her and give it back to Jeremy. “Please thank him, but she’s got it covered.” No way do I want her indebted to that slime ball. “We’d better get that food back to your place before it spoils.”
“We?” she asks, smiling.
“I thought I’d go back to the city with you. My mom asked me for dinner tomorrow. You can come too.”
“Tomorrow? But what are you going to do until then?” The amused gleam in her eyes is breathtaking.
My pants get tight. “I’m sure we’ll find something.”
We get in her car. “Crew?”
“Yeah?”
“Why didn’t you want me taking the money?”
“Because Dirk always has ulterior motives. He never does anything that won’t benefit him.”
“Maybe he thinks paying for my gas will keep me in the band and that could benefit him.”
I shake my head. “Like I said, you don’t want to be in bed with him.”
“Okay, but my credit card is getting a lot of use lately.”
“So is mine.”
“We’re paying our dues, right?”
“Yup.”
Halfway back to the city, she asks, “Why do you think Ronni wants me to cut my hair so badly?”
“Honestly? I think she’s jealous of you.”
“She drives a Porsche. How would she possibly be jealous of me?”
“You’re the one with all the talent, and you’re gorgeous too.”
“I believe you’re a tad biased. Maybe Brad was right. She wants you and she sees me as competition.”
I don’t mention what happened earlier. “That’s ridiculous.”
“You haven’t picked up on her subtle advances? Are you really that blind?”
“She doesn’t want me,” I lie.
“Maybe I’m jealous. She has looks, money, and power. Why wouldn’t you want a woman like that?”
“I wouldn’t. I don’t. You have nothing to worry about. We’re good.”
She squeezes my hand. “Is there a we?”
“Yeah, there’s a we.”
She smiles as she watches the road in front of us.
Me—I feel guilty for adding to the secrets I’m keeping from her.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Bria
I hand Crew my phone before we go inside. “Snap a picture of my hair. I want a before and after photo.” I strike funny poses as he snaps away.
“Did anyone ever tell you that you should be a model?”
“Actually, yes.”
“Really?”
I nod. “Back in high school, I was approached by someone after a choir performance.”
“What happened?”
“The guy made Brett uneasy and he scared him away.”
“I like your brother.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered. I’ve never had any desire to be on the cover of a magazine unless it was a result of my singing.”
“Rolling Stone?” he asks with a smirk.
“That’s the holy grail, isn’t it? But I was thinking more like Spin or Billboard.”
“You’ve got to think bigger than that.”
A girl passing by stops. “Are you Chris Rewey?”
Crew smiles and offers his hand. “I am.”
“Oh my God, I love your songs. Reckless Alibi is like my favorite band of all time, and now you’re on the radio. Can I have your autograph?”
He signs a page in her notebook, and she takes their picture. “This is like the best day of my life. You really are my favorite.”
“Thanks. We have a new album coming out soon.”
She squeals.
“This is our other lead singer,” he says. “Brianna.”
I look at him sideways. He’s never called me that before.
“Nice to meet you,” she says, looking about as impressed with me as the bum on the corner bench.
“We’d better get going,” Crew says.
“Right. Thanks again,” the girl says before bouncing down the street.
I put my hand over my heart. “O-M-G,” I say dramatically. “I can’t believe I just met the Chris Rewey. Isn’t he dreamy?”
“Shut up,” he says, yanking me to him.
“And he touched me. I’ll never wash my hand again.”
“Will you quit it?” He pushes me against the side of the building and kisses me. “You’re the only one I want to touch.”
“Are you famous or something?” a man asks, taking his phone out. “I saw you autograph something for that girl and then you posed for a picture with her.”
“Nope,” Crew says sharply. “Not famous. If you’ll excuse us.”
He hurries me toward the hair salon and I’m left wondering if he’s always nicer to the female fans.
As soon as we open the door, a flamboyant man dances toward us. “Ah, my dear Brianna. I’ve been waiting for you. I’m Carlos.”
“Uh, hi. You know who I am?”
“I make it a point to read up on my clients.” He circles me. “Ronni’s description didn’t do you justice. You’re simply gorgeous, darling, and once I’m done with you, you’ll be nothing less than breathtaking.”
“I don’t want my hair cut.”
“Why would you? It’s perfect.” He runs his fingers through my hair. “I’ll give you a few layers here and some highlights there. I’ll sculpt your brows. Oh, my. I must thank Ronni for sending me such a fine specimen.”
“This is my friend, Crew.” I blush. I’ve never had to introduce him to anyone before, and I’m not sure how to do it. He did say we’re a we the other day.
“Friend. Right. The two of you together will burn down the house.” He squeals. “Oh, the hotness. I wish I could bottle it.”
“Where do you want me?”
He escorts me to a chair in front of a large mirror, then drags another one over for Crew. “Sit, my boy. Your blond hair is simply delicious. I’m sorry to say there’s not a thing I would do to it.”
We sit and listen to Carlos gossip about his other clients, most of whom are either famous or rich. An hour later, I’m taken back to the sink to get my hair washed. It’s heavenly the way Carlos massages my scalp.
“You’re going to look fabulous. Trust me,” he says, wrapping my hair in a towel. “Now don’t peek until I’m finished, okay?”
He turns the chair so I can’t see myself in the mirror. My back straightens when he gets out his shears. “Carlos�
��” I lean away from the scissors. “I know Ronni wants me to cut my hair, but I’m really against it. I mean it when I say please don’t.”
He puts down the scissors and leans in, his hands on the arms of my chair. “Sweet Brianna. I don’t care if the Pope himself tells me to cut your hair. I won’t do it unless you say so. A few layers only. I give you my word.”
“Okay. My friends call me Bria.”
Carlos smiles and picks up the scissors.
I’m still nervous, especially when I see hair falling on the floor, but Crew’s smile assures me it’s okay. I watch him the whole time.
After Carlos blow-dries my hair, Crew’s smile fades. I try to get a glimpse in the mirror, but Carlos won’t let me. “What is it? Is my hair orange or something?”
“It’s magnificent,” Carlos says. “You’ll see soon enough.”
Crew is looking at me like he’s seen a ghost.
“Crew?”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Carlos, is there a bathroom I can use?”
Carlos points to the back of the salon. “I hope your friend is okay. He looked a little green.”
“I’m sure he’s fine.” But I’m not sure. His violent mood swings confuse the hell out of me.
Carlos gets out his curling iron and does things with it. “Perfect,” he says. “Do you want to wait for him for the big reveal?”
I shake my head, wondering what’s taking him so long.
“Here we go,” Carlos says and turns the chair around.
I’m stunned. It’s me, only better. Sun-kissed highlights span the length of my hair and wispy long layers give it a casual, beachy look. My brows are sculpted in a way that make my eyes stand out more than they did before.
I turn and hug Carlos. “I love it!”
He hugs me back. “Of course you do. I’m a genius with hair. Tell all your famous friends.”
“I don’t have any famous friends.”
“I suspect you will soon, honey.”
Crew returns, and his eyes are glued to my head. Carlos was right. He looks green. I twirl around in a circle. “What do you think? I could easily pass for a California girl, right?”
Crew heads for the door. “I’ll wait for you outside.”
Reckless Obsession (The Reckless Rockstar Series) Page 16
