“Deal.”
Three days later, I was standing backstage of a local talk show as Billie, Ryne, and Faith were being interviewed in front of a live audience. They were promoting the upcoming semifinal, and everything was going smoothly. There were no questions about our relationship, no mention of the hospital visit; everyone was focused on their potential musical careers and the style of songs they planned to release on future albums.
Donny had given the TV producers strict instructions about not approaching me. I ignored everyone around me by watching videos on my cell phone. I knew that even with orders from above, if I made eye contact with anyone, they would try to persuade me to greet the audience. Donny did have me promise the producers of the talk show that if they kept my presence backstage out of the tabloids, Billie and I would sit on their stage together for an exclusive interview once the competition was over.
That didn’t mean the production crew weren’t giving me knowing looks. Superstardom celebrity judges never accompanied any of the contestants on their talk show rounds. We had our own schedule. I knew canceling my appearances to follow Billie around would have everyone talking about us, even if it didn’t end up printed in a magazine. However, Billie and I agreed that we weren’t going to stop seeing each other, and that meant there would be talk. We would just have to deal with it the best way we could, addressing it once the competition was over and ignoring it while it was still going on.
We also spoke about her damn schedule and commitments that she refused to stop even though the security team still hadn’t determined a clear suspect. There had been too many people who visited the fitting rooms and too many with access to the contestants’ hotel. I worried that the next event would be even more serious. Every time we were apart, I kept thinking about her collapsing on a different stage without anyone to get her to the hospital in time, so she reluctantly agreed that I could join her backstage during public events and during rehearsals this week.
When the audience began applauding and cheering, I raised my head and saw the three of them making their way to me.
“That was so amazing,” Faith gushed to Billie and Ryne once they were officially off-screen. “I always watched this show at home and thought everyone seemed so nice, but they were even kinder than I expected.”
“You just like that the audience cheered the loudest when they were asked if you would win the competition,” Ryne muttered, rolling his eyes.
“Green isn’t a good color on you, cowboy,” Faith teased while Billie laughed and caught my eye. I gestured with my head to the exit, and she nodded.
As we made our way to the street, each of us were stopped at least once by members of the crew and audience to ask us to sign something for their friend, child, or parent. Each time a stranger approached, I would grit my teeth and swallow the words I wanted to say.
As Faith was stopped when we were just about to pass through the door, Billie took one look at my face and told the others, “We might go to the next stop without you guys, if you don’t mind catching up in the contestant bus? The Marine team have been asking us to join them anyway.”
“Sure, we’ll meet you there,” Faith cheerfully agreed before turning her attention back to her fan.
“I’ll keep an eye on this one,” Ryne said, before catching the eye of a female fan eagerly watching his every move and waving.
“Thanks,” I replied softly before nodding at Brian and finally making our way to their car.
Once we were outside, Billie whispered, “So, did you have fun backstage?”
“It was thrilling,” I replied dryly, and she laughed before leaning against my shoulder. “Where to next?” I asked, bracing myself for another mindless hour of staring at my phone.
“Apparently we’re to go to Santa Monica. We’re meeting with some music producers at the head office of Platinum Music Group to discuss our debut song choices.”
“Platinum is supplying all the contestants with singles?” I asked, shocked. My record label must have fought fiercely to get those rights.
“Yes, sir,” Billie responded, biting her bottom lip. “I heard rumors that if they don’t like you, they only give you terrible songs they know won’t sell.”
I wanted to chuckle, but I knew she was seriously freaking out. “Babe, Platinum’s entire slogan is they only support and produce platinum-selling records,” I told her, bumping my shoulder into hers. “They’ve signed up this year because they know with the show’s current ratings, it won’t matter what song you guys select. They’ll all sell a million copies easy.”
“I do believe you told me a story about vomiting in your signing-bonus car after your first recording session at Platinum,” Billie responded, raising an eyebrow, “and yet you tell me to relax?”
“You remember that, huh?” I laughed as I opened the door to our car. “The moral of that story wasn’t don’t ever step foot in the door at Platinum Music Group. It was don’t drink the shots in celebration.”
“Welcome to Platinum. Would you like a tequila shot?” a young assistant gushed. “It’s our little tradition for our new family members.”
Billie stared at the white liquid on the tray as if it were a contagious disease. “Thank you, but I think my nerves aren’t a good mixer with tequila,” she replied.
The assistant giggled. “Mr. Bone?”
“Maybe later.” I was too busy enjoying the way Billie’s eyes had enlarged the moment we stepped through the grand glass entry doors. She was like a deer in headlights staring at the eclectic decorating of Platinum Music Group, part distressed and part hypnotized. From the pretentious gold chandelier hanging in the center of the room to the white cushions and ottomans that graced the red entry rug, Platinum’s lobby was known for its eccentricity. It was if their decorator was trying to marry all of the styles of music together but forgot things like practicality and comfort.
“I’ll bring the tray into the meeting with Mr. Anderson,” the assistant continued. “I wanted to let you know I’m such a big fan of you both. I watch Superstardom every Thursday with my mom. She thinks you’re going to win,” she whispered to Billie, causing her cheeks to flush red.
“That’s very sweet,” she replied.
“They actually told me you would be traveling with the two other contestants. Are they on their way?” the assistant asked, her excitement clearly making her a little jittery.
“They got held up by some fans. They should be here any—”
I hadn’t even finished my sentence when she looked past our shoulders and let out a feminine sigh of appreciation.
Ryne walked in, whistling through his teeth. “Now this is a life I could get used to.”
“Hell yes,” Faith squealed, approaching the giant vertical garden that ran the length of the hallway and pressing her face into the palms. “It smells so good.”
“Hi, I’m Mandy,” the young assistant greeted, her tray of tequila wobbling a little as Ryne moved closer. She sounded breathless when she explained, “I’ll be escorting you all to the conference room.”
“Lead the way, little lady,” Ryne drawled, making Billie roll her eyes at me. I had to grin.
Mandy led us down the narrow hallway. There had been some renovations since I had been there last. I avoided coming to the main office as much as possible. As far as I was concerned, dealing with contracts was Donny’s gig; I preferred recording my songs in my own studio.
“Your albums and concert posters are taking up the entire hallway,” Billie whispered beside me as we moved closer to the glass doors of the conference room. “How does that make other artists feel?”
“No clue. They might have put them out because they knew I would be joining you. The hallway could change when Carey Leigh visits.”
“I doubt it,” Billie murmured, pausing to stare at the album that had launched my career.
It was a black-and-white photo of me sitting on a replica 550 Porsche wearing jeans, my shirt open and a cigarette dangling from my mouth. �
��Modern-day rebel,” the press had called me, “with the voice of a fallen angel.” Total marketing scam.
“If your album eclipses mine in the billboard charts, they’ll pull mine down and replace it with yours,” I told her, nudging her shoulder. “I would bet fifty bucks on it.”
She snorted. I just shook my head. She still didn’t see how far her talent could take her.
When we walked into the conference room, I was surprised to find nearly the entire crew of Superstardom in the building. I had expected the camera crew, but I hadn’t anticipated Claudia lounging on a chaise with a glass of champagne and Russell leaning back on his chair, taking a tequila shot from Cindy, who was holding another tray of clear poison. Connor Graves was also whispering to the show’s director with disgust in the corner of the room.
It amazed me.
It took a hell of a lot of people to promote one person from ordinary to celebrity.
“Ah, the stars of the hour have finally arrived,” Graham Wright, Platinum Music Group head honcho and one of the smartest men in the music industry, announced. He was one of the few men who worked in this building who I didn’t dislike.
He approached me, chuckling. “I heard you decided to hang with the cameraman this morning. How was it being behind the camera for a change?”
“Well, if the music thing doesn’t work out because the people here screw up my distribution, it’s always good to have a backup plan,” I told him, shrugging.
“I’ll tell Caroline that you said that about distribution. She won’t let you come to dinner with us again or play with the kids.” He winked at me before demanding, “Now, introduce me to your better half. God knows I’m going to need to give a detailed description over dinner tonight.”
I laughed and felt Billie freeze beside me. She knew she stood in the presence of music royalty.
“Billie, meet Graham. Listen to everything he says and then make him believe it was your idea. He’ll have forgotten between flights from Heathrow and JFK and will pay you double for being so clever.”
Graham chuckled. “Not bad advice. I’d be insulted about the memory thing if it weren’t true. Why they insist I constantly travel everywhere is beyond me.”
“You’re the boss,” I reminded him.
“That’s right.” Graham sighed. “At least being the boss means I get to be at moments like this. Billie, Faith, Ryne, you all ready to select the song that will be played across the globe?”
“I’ve never been great at making choices,” Billie confessed to the room.
“Darling, that’s why we’re here,” Claudia chimed in. “We’re here to help you work out your style. We’ll all read the lyrics to some of the songs they’ve short-listed for you and see if we think it fits your vibe.”
“Narrative,” Russell announced. “As long as a song tells a story, girl, it’ll be a hit.”
“I was hoping for something that had a little girl-power twist to it,” Faith responded confidently. “I have a few original songs I’d love to share if that’s allowed?”
“Of course it is, girl.” Graham grinned. “You’re a songwriter. That’s why the audience has chosen you. We won’t be forcing you to be something you aren’t.”
“Any country love songs short-listed?” Ryne asked, staring at Mandy, the assistant, who blushed. Faith and Billie looked at each other and rolled their eyes.
“Definitely,” one of the producers announced. “Most of them are love songs. Only a couple are about heartbreak and infidelity.”
“I wouldn’t mind singing about heartbreak,” Billie suddenly announced, causing them all to look at me with curious eyes. I just smirked.
“I actually had one in mind for you,” Graham admitted. “It’s a bit of a power ballad about the strength of a mother called ‘You’re Always There.’ A favorite artist of mine wrote it a while ago after going through some family hardship, but refused to sing it themselves on one of their albums. Too personal. After hearing you speak about your relationship with your mother, I thought it would be a perfect fit. It starts softly about the cruelty of life but then builds to the chorus about how during all the ups and downs—”
“You’re always there,” Billie finished, her eyes lighting up. “I would love that. You sure they wouldn’t mind a Superstardom contestant singing it?”
Graham handed over a copy of the music sheets. “I’m sure I can persuade them to let you sing the song.”
The entire room watched as Billie read the lyrics silently. A single tear fell down her cheek. “It’s perfect,” she murmured.
“Did someone get that on camera?” Connor Graves asked, reminding everyone in the room that they were part of a television show. “Linda, I thought your vision was for me to hand each of them their final songs?”
“We haven’t started filming yet,” Linda informed him as if he were an impatient toddler. “Once the contestants have selected their favorite songs, we’ll recreate this moment for the audience. And yes, Connor, you will be the one handing out the lyrics.”
It took another two hours of decisions, edits, and filming before all the contestants were in their own recording booths practicing their semifinal song as well as the one they selected to be their debut single should they win the competition. Brian had accompanied Billie. I decided to hang back in the conference room with Graham.
The moment we were alone, I turned to him and asked, “How long have you had that song ready to give away? You didn’t think you should have asked before offering it up on a silver platter to a Superstardom contestant?”
“Was I wrong? Were you going to perform that song ever again?”
“I wasn’t, but a warning would have been nice.”
“You wrote it for your mother, but you might as well have written it for that girl. Part country, part soul. Sure, your latest song, ‘Strong Enough Alone,’ was good, but that was your pent-up anger fueling the lyrics. This has always been your masterpiece. It’s the best thing I’ve heard since ‘I Will Always Love You,’ and you had it sitting on a shelf, refusing to let anyone record it.”
“I had my reasons,” I huffed.
“You had fear. Why do you think I made the suits fight so hard to get those contestants in this building? The moment I saw her and watched her audition, I knew she would be the one person you would let sing that song.”
“You are the smartest bastard in this whole industry,” I told him reluctantly.
“And here I was thinking you’d stayed behind to let me know you were still pissed at me for not being able to convince the board of directors that your being a judge on a television show was a waste of your time,” Graham teased.
“You know I’m glad I did the damn show,” I confessed. “She’s special.”
“I know it. But if you don’t bring her around for Caroline to meet soon, I’ll deny ever saying that out loud. I believe I might just end up calling her a groupie not worth our time.”
“Always afraid of your wife, Graham?” I laughed.
“One day you’ll know the same feeling,” he stressed. “A day that’s coming sooner than I think you realize. Unless of course you screw it up and someone moves faster than you.”
“I won’t be letting that happen,” I insisted.
“Then why are you hanging with an old man right now and not watching that girl sing your song?” he challenged.
It was enough to have me sighing and heading to the door. Sometimes it was annoying spending time with Graham.
Always the smartest man in the damn room.
She deserved better
Zach
“It was just a song,” I overheard my momma tell Michelle while sipping from her wineglass and relaxing on the back porch.
“I don’t know, Cora. It looked like there was something more between them during that duet. The way she touched him while they sang together. I’ve also never seen her look at a boy like that before,” Michelle replied. “And those photos from before the live shows and now that one in the litt
le Mexican restaurant? It makes me wonder if she’s falling for him. Hard.”
“Singing together and holding hands does not make a relationship. If it did, Zach and Billie would practically be married. And those paparazzi people edit celebrity photos all the time to make them more interesting. If there is something really happening between them, I’m sure it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, and it won’t be worth worrying about until the competition is over,” my mother remarked. “They eliminated four contestants last night, and she wasn’t one of them. She’s wonderful on that stage, but the fact that he’s a celebrity judge and people are curious about their relationship surely doesn’t hurt Billie’s chances. Plus, she’ll always have the story of how she once dated Jax Bone. I wish I had a few more daring stories in my past than being duped by my childhood sweetheart.”
“You’re forgetting he’s a rock star, Cora, not just some everyday celebrity television personality. Rock stars aren’t usually known for their belief in monogamy. And he’s nineteen with millions of girls around the world lining up to be with him. He could break her heart, and we’re too far away to eat ice cream with her. I don’t want my daughter to have to go through heartbreak with the entire world watching and without someone to reassure her about all the other fish in the sea.”
“Do you really think she’d be foolish enough to fall in love with a judge on Superstardom?” my mother asked Michelle softly.
“At eighteen, weren’t we foolish enough to—”
I didn’t hear the end of Michelle’s statement. I couldn’t listen to any more of their late-night discussions about Billie and Jax. Since their performance and the elimination, it was all they and anyone from school could talk about. How hot it was. How intense it looked. How great they were together.
Everyone, even our mothers, apparently thought Billie and Jax were an item.
I grabbed the keys to my truck and headed for the front door. I didn’t think about where I was going, just got in and drove on autopilot, my mind replaying that damn duet.
Childish Dreams Page 17
