by Eden Summers
“She grew up in a small town in Michigan. Didn’t go to college but had good grades in school. She’s played everything from piano to guitar to violin.” She spread out the pages, exposing black and white images of the dark-haired, light-eyed beauty. “I couldn’t find anything on past boyfriends or scorned lovers. No connection to drugs or alcohol abuse. In fact, there was nothing juicy at all. Nothing exciting. Nothing memorable. It doesn’t add up, but then again, who am I to judge a straight-laced rocker?”
“Nobody came out of the woodwork when they signed with Grander?” Ryan sat forward and shuffled through the information.
“No. There wasn’t any dirt at all.” Not a single thing to give her reason to stop the charade and keep another woman from setting claws into her rhythm guitarist. The band’s rhythm guitarist. “From what I can tell, she’s drama free.”
“She’s also fucking hot.” Blake picked up one of the pictures, his eyes wide with appreciation. “She’s got the goth, rock goddess thing going.”
Leah cringed and both their gazes fell upon her as if the reaction had been audible. Fuck, had it been audible?
She couldn’t refute the woman’s beauty—full lips and flawless skin framed by sleek blue-black hair, boy short at the back, chin-length at the front. Add the slim waist, perky breasts, and what seemed to be a firm butt, and the woman became a walking erection dispenser.
“Just keep it in your pants for the duration of the meeting,” she muttered. “I don’t want Scott thinking this arrangement is anything more than a huge pain in my ass.”
Blake smirked and she anticipated his filth before he opened his mouth and said, “If Ryan’s lucky, it might be more of a pain in Felicity’s ass, right, my friend?”
Ryan didn’t bite. There was no humor. No reciprocated perversion. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Leah shrugged. “Fucking her in the ass is probably something you should discuss with—”
“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”
Yeah, she knew, but like Blake, joking away the uncomfortable squeeze in her chest was a crutch. She still couldn’t shake the feeling that this situation was all wrong when it should’ve been all right.
“Yes.” She shuffled the pages together and closed them inside the folder. “If we’re successful in boosting Slicker’s popularity, it should be enough to placate Grander.”
“And if it isn’t?” Blake asked.
“I honestly don’t know.” Scott had made thinly-veiled threats over the past two days. Threats that couldn’t be ignored when Reckless wasn’t in a position of power. “Your current contract states the number of tour dates should be determined by buyer demand, not band availability. Even though Grander signed off on this tour being shorter than previous years because of the baby, it doesn’t mean they can’t change their mind. And we all know they only agreed because they were hoping to sweeten you up for another contract.”
“If only there was another way to go about it.” Blake stared at the closed folder, a hint of humor in his tone. “We need to boost this chick’s reputation and sex appeal, but we’re relying on a dude who hasn’t used his dick in ten years.”
“Don’t worry about my dick,” Ryan muttered. “Gabi seems to think it works fine.”
“Whoa.” Blake choked on a laugh. “When did you turn into a smart ass?”
Leah pressed her lips tight to fight a grin.
“I guess your taint has finally rubbed off on me.” Ryan turned his gaze to her, freezing her heart with those soulful eyes. “And now that I don’t have an ungrateful wife nagging me about my image, I can finally relax and not give a damn.”
“At least once this charade is over, anyway.” He shouldn’t have to wait. He deserved the world and everything in it after putting up with Julie for so long.
“I know.” He inclined his head. “It’s only a matter of time before I get what I want.”
She stiffened, inside and out. There was a warning in his tone. A threat. Fuck. Maybe it was a promise. No. She shook off the stupidity and pulled her professionalism back into place. Clearly, she was hallucinating. Blake hadn’t even noticed the tension she seemed to think was clogging the air. He was still smiling at Ryan’s comeback, oblivious to her skip down Daydream Lane.
The last awaited knock sounded at the door, breaking the silence and tearing a pathetic gasp from her throat. Motherfucker. She needed to stop being a temperamental Nancy around him. One kiss shouldn’t have the power to shake foundations. Not when she’d successfully ignored the topic for this long.
“Let’s do this.” She shoved back in her chair, more aggressive than necessary. “And please, for the love of god, think before you speak.”
She made for the entrance, trudging her grumpy ass forward, feeling Ryan’s stare follow her for the duration. With a heavy yank of the knob, she swung the door wide and glanced at the unwanted guests in turn.
“Scott…”
The Grander representative gave a smug grin.
“Felicity…” The woman, on the other hand, was subdued. Her smile was in place, yet her eyes were filled with scrutiny. Judgement. For someone who had been given the golden goose to skyrocket her career, she definitely wasn’t showing a worthy dose of excitement. “Come in. Take a seat.”
Leah hung back as her guests shared nauseatingly merry greetings and made themselves comfortable around the dining table. This was it, the moment where Ryan jumped from one bad decision to another. One unworthy woman to the next. All for the sake of the Reckless Beat family.
“I gather you’ve informed Felicity on the publicity stunt.” She pulled out the chair at the head of the table and took a seat.
“Yes.” The woman nodded. “But please, call me Flick. Only my mother calls me by my real name.”
“Sure.” How cute. She focused on Scott, ignoring the way Ryan and Blake eyeballed the singer. “So, what’s the plan?”
“You tell me. As far as Grander is concerned, we have nothing to do with this. It’s all on you.”
“Right… So you’re demanding this publicity stunt take place but refuse to be a part of it?” Yippee fucking ki-yay. She couldn’t wait to add Fake Relationship Facilitator to her resume.
“I don’t think we need our hands held,” Ryan said to Felicity. “Do you?”
The woman cringed. “God, I hope not. I feel embarrassed enough already.”
“I’ll try to make it as painless as possible.”
Ryan grinned at his future conquest, fucking grinned. It was such a sweet, gentlemanly gesture that made nausea and discomfort tag-team in Leah’s chest. He didn’t even know her, couldn’t trust her, and yet, here he was, diving in head first. If he wasn’t careful, this would be another divorce waiting to happen.
“We’ll be in Atlanta tomorrow,” he continued. “After the show we can hit a nightclub and let the paparazzi take it from there.”
Felicity turned a lighter shade of pale as she nodded. “OK.”
Was the woman morally conflicted over the thought of a fake relationship? She certainly wasn’t this timid on stage last night when she was screaming her enthusiasm to the audience and gyrating against the microphone stand.
“Leah?”
She snapped her attention to Ryan. “Yeah?”
“I asked about how we will get the paparazzi involved.”
“We’ll leak it somehow. Don’t worry, they’ll swarm as soon as they hear word you’ve moved on from Julie.”
“You really think they’ll swarm?” Felicity’s voice was panicked, her ruby-stained lips tight with disbelief. “What happens if I can’t make this look plausible?”
“Then you try harder.” Scott stole the words from Leah’s mouth.
This woman still had celebrity training wheels, her cluelessness evident for everyone to see.
“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” Blake answered. “The paps will want this story as much as we do because it sells. They’ll wait for the money shot and they’
ll consider any unrealistic behavior as puppy-love nerves.”
“And between now and tomorrow night, we can get to know each other.” Ryan gave her another one of those consoling smiles. “I’ll make sure you’re comfortable.”
“Can I suggest taking a few photos on our terms first?” Leah grated through a clenched jaw. She didn’t want to pussy-foot around this woman’s apprehension. It was bad enough her men were already fawning over her, jumping through unnecessary hoops. Felicity was supposed to be a rocker, an upcoming star. If she couldn’t handle a small dose of media manipulation, she didn’t have the skills to be in this industry.
“What do you mean?” Felicity met her gaze.
“Mitch’s wife is the official Reckless photographer. We can get her to take some staged shots and leak them under an alias. That way you’re assured you’ll look good—” not that this woman could ever appear anything less than fuckable, “—and you’ll be prepared for the first wave of craziness.”
“That sounds good.”
Curse her and her appreciative smile.
“Are you good with that?” Felicity focused on Ryan in hope.
He nodded. “I’m happy with whatever puts you at ease.”
Gagging noises filled the room, or maybe it was only in Leah’s head. This situation was becoming more unbearable by the second. She could only imagine what it would become once the two fake lovers were nauseatingly familiar with one another.
“Great. I’ll call Alana and—”
“No.” Ryan spoke over her. “I’ll do it. You’ll have enough on your plate trying to organize the PR team and track the success of this stunt.”
He was dismissing her? She’d never been relegated to the back seat when it came to publicity. This was her domain. Her job.
“We’re good.” He looked at Felicity. “Right?”
“Yeah.” The woman shrugged. “I’d actually prefer fewer witnesses. I’m not the best actress.”
“You won’t need to act, sugar.” Blake ruffled Ryan’s hair, receiving a scowl in return. “You’ll happily succumb to this guy’s charms within minutes.”
Felicity smirked, the first unscripted reaction of the day. “We’ll see.”
The rest of the meeting was dedicated to how Grander would deem this a success. A social media explosion was expected. There needed to be an influx of followers and friends and tweets. Paparazzi and news outlets had to recognize Felicity as an up and coming celebrity. And the clincher, Slicker was required to hit a chart on at least one major online retailer for this nightmare to be over.
There were also stipulations on the type of attention they were aiming for. Even though any publicity for Felicity would’ve been welcomed, Scott made it known they were only aiming for favorable hype. Meaning—if someone had to take the fall for a stunt gone awry, it would be Ryan. His reputation would be the one tarnished in the event of a social media backlash. His hard earned gentlemanly status would be ruined. And his future happiness would be at stake.
“Like I’ve previously stated,” Scott drawled, “if this doesn’t work, we’ve already got staff and venues on standby for the additional shows.”
“Yeah,” Blake grated. “You’ve mentioned that once or twice already.”
“We understand the terms.” Leah didn’t require a caustic tone. She made sure her stare was enough. “I’ll just need them in writing.”
“No problem.” Scott pulled a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket. “The terms plus the standby dates.”
She didn’t move to claim the offering. “I want it in an email.” What she really wanted was an evidence trail.
“You don’t trust me?”
“I don’t trust my mother.” She’d learned to cover her ass early in her career. Nobody had loyalty when money was at stake. And morals were in short supply when the industry thrived on greed.
“I’ll send the email. But leaking this information won’t be in your best interest.”
She ignored the threat and smiled. “I’m well aware of what will happen if this gets out.”
Fans didn’t like to be manipulated, even though PR teams bent them over and did exactly that on a daily basis. The majority of trending scandals instigated by artists were more prevalent than those that were unexpected.
Tina Costintia caught buying a pregnancy test two days before her album release—staged. Jensen Peters snapped half naked on a secluded beach the day his latest award nomination was announced—staged. Baby photos of Hillary and Jackson Miller’s baby leaked as their celebrity status slowly dwindled into obscurity—staged.
If an artist wanted to put their career in the spotlight, it was far easier to create a scandal than it was to earn hype on the merits of something legitimate. But on the flip side, if you were caught, it was a sure-fire way to kiss a bright future goodbye.
“I guess we’re done.” Scott stood and made his way to Leah’s side. “Here’s your list. And I’ll email you a copy later.”
“Thanks.” She stood, unable to tolerate him peering down at her, and took the paper from his hand. “No doubt I’ll be in touch.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
She glared at his back as he strode to the suite door.
“I better go, too.” Blake pushed to his feet and came to her side. “I need to call Gabi and pack my bag.” He squeezed her close and planted a kiss on her temple.
“Thanks for the reminder.” And the excuse to kick the remaining two out of her room. She turned to Ryan and Felicity, maintaining her professionalism with an amicable curve of her lips. “Do you lovebirds need anything else from me?”
“No, I think we’re good.” Ryan’s stare bore down on her, drilling holes into her soul. “We’ll talk somewhere else and leave you in peace.”
Goodie. She couldn’t wait to start planning someone else’s love life when she didn’t have one of her own. For the first time, it seemed like she was unqualified for her position. “Have fun.” She strolled for the bathroom, baited breath and all, as she waited for them to leave.
“Hold up.”
She stopped at his command and wished his voice couldn’t control her more than her own mind.
“Flick, can I meet you in the lobby?” he asked. “I want to speak to Leah for a minute.”
The unintentional seductress pushed to her feet. “Sure.”
Leah remained immobile as Felicity’s footsteps trekked to the door, the latch clicking shut seconds later. Her heartrate increased. The slightest hint of claustrophobia settling in with the thought of being alone in a room with him. But like always, she had to maintain the professional persona. She had to hike up her chin, straighten her shoulders, and face Ryan like he was any other band member. “What’s wrong?”
He moved closer, the few steps done in a gradual assault. “You’re not yourself. I want to make sure this situation isn’t stressing you out.”
“Me? I’m fine.” She placated him with a laugh. A fake and delirious laugh. She had this shit under control. Everything was peachy in her world. “You’re the one who offered to sell yourself like a hooker. I should be asking you the same thing.”
“It’s a small price to pay, I guess.”
“Maybe, if it all goes well. But if it doesn’t…” The possibilities were endless. He’d never tasted the bitter filth birthed from Internet trolls. He wasn’t used to drama. “I know the guys appreciate you taking the bullet on this one.”
“And what about you?” He took another step, creating havoc on her nervous system. He was close. Unprofessionally so.
“What about me?” Her voice grew in pitch.
“Do you appreciate it?”
Jesus. How did she answer that? Lying wasn’t an option. She couldn’t say she loved how he’d put his reputation on the line, because he’d know it wasn’t true. She would’ve much preferred anyone else to take the fall. He was too vulnerable. “Why does my opinion matter?”
Another step. Another dose of fear to add to the growing
pile. “It’s always mattered. You know that.”
Don’t. The demand shoved to the forefront of her mind, begging to be set free. “I should start packing.” She slid backward, putting necessary space between them.
His eyes were killing her. They didn’t focus on her in friendship. They looked at her as if she instigated the start of world peace.
“Leah…”
He took another step, breaching personal space and snapping something painful inside her. “Stop.”
His face fell, his agony heavier than a beach-load of sand. “What’s wrong?”
She tried to recover, tried to pull her shit together and fake a brilliant smile. “I’m busy. That’s all. You should go.”
“No.” He stood firm, his agony turning to anger. “What have I done?”
Everything. Nothing. And neither answer made sense. “Please, I’ve got a thousand people to call before the end of business today.”
“Right… So Blake can hug and kiss you but I can’t get within two feet? I thought we were trying to get back to the way we were.”
And there it was. The confrontation she should’ve prepared for. “We’ve been trying for months. Obviously, we’re going nowhere.”
“No.” He shook his head, his stare narrowing, shrinking her. “You’re going nowhere. I’m more than happy to revert to normal and forget that kiss ever happened.”
But it had happened, and now her lips would be forever haunted with his affection. “It’s not that easy for me.”
“Why?” He straightened, preparing for battle.
She had to shut this down, extinguish any chemistry or attraction, or whatever the hell made this situation unbearable. This had to end. Now. “Because you carelessly risked my job with that kiss.”
He recovered from the verbal slap quicker than anticipated. “And now you think I’m going to smack one on you whenever I get within arm’s length?”
“No. It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?” His voice softened. “I need to make this right somehow. We both know I messed up. But it’s time you let me fix it.” He inched closer. “I need you. This divorce and the stress with Grander is killing me without my best friend to talk to.”
