“If you really don’t want to see a doctor yet, you can research your symptoms on line.” His mouth twisted. “Never mind. Every time I do that, I always end up convinced I’m dying.”
“If it doesn’t let up soon, I’ll see a doctor. I promise.” I ducked into the bathroom. My hair was a little messy, but impressing Sebastian was the last thing I should care about. After slipping into my boots, I returned to Sebastian who was leafing through the notepad I’d left on the coffee table. “Let’s go.”
Struggling through the smell of fish, I followed Sebastian into the main house. My dad was putting the final touches on what any normal person would consider gourmet—halibut steak marinated in garlic and rosemary, rice pilaf and asparagus spears. Potato soup already steamed from a small bowl in front of each place setting. My dad didn’t cook much, but when he did, it was usually pretty good.
Still, fish was a big no for me today, so I stuck to rice and vegetables. Once I’d dived in, I barely heard my dad and Sebastian talking business and only responded when they made it a point to get my feedback.
So Sebastian had a huge blank spot that night. Not only did he not remember the first round on his kitchen table before we’d gotten all my clothes off, he also didn’t remember ravaging me again in his bed after a few shots of tequila.
I speared the last asparagus, feeling full. It had been weeks since I’d had an appetite and even then, I hadn’t always kept it down. I hoped for the chance to fully digest all of it this time.
Sebastian’s question nagged at me. I couldn’t be pregnant, no way. I was a stickler for documenting my cycle and if I had missed a month, I would’ve realized it.
I glanced up at Sebastian who was enjoying another piece of halibut. He was way off about me possibly being pregnant, of course.
But what if he wasn’t?
Proving him wrong suddenly became my life’s mission. Not wanting to raise any red flags, I slowly pushed the chair away, dabbed the corners of my mouth with the cloth napkin and stood. “That was amazing, Dad, thank you. But I think I left the stove on earlier. I’d started to make tea and then fell asleep. I’ll be back in a minute and help clean up.”
My dad nodded while Sebastian shot me a puzzled look. I shuffled out the back door as casually as I could. When I knew they couldn’t hear or see me, I rocketed to the guest house and yanked my trusty calendar off the hook near my desk. I flipped to the previous month, October, examining each square. Nothing. Between arranging interviews for Full Throttle and working for my dad, as well as the other freelance public relations here and there, I must have forgotten to write it in. But I’d never once in ten years forgotten to mark it down.
There was a first time for everything though, right?
Unless I hadn’t gotten my period at all.
I stared at the calendar another moment, then snatched up my purse and bolted out the door. Sebastian and my dad would wonder where I went and I didn’t care. I had to do this, had to know.
Ten minutes later, I returned with two pregnancy tests. Very convenient since I really had to pee.
I’d had to pee a lot lately. And I was tired, napping at random times. My stomach had been more particular than ever and I’d never thrown up so much in such a short time in my whole life. And my breasts were painfully tender.
And there was no mark on the calendar for last month.
Oh, crap. I groaned, burying my eyes in my palms. Please, no. Please don’t let me be pregnant. I fervently hoped it was some odd hormone issue that would be easily rectified with black cohosh or maca powder.
After unwrapping the tester, I scanned the directions, then painstakingly followed them. I tapped my fingers as I waited the required minutes, my gaze glued to the clock on my phone. Finally, the time was up and I stared at the double blue lines.
My life was ruined.
In my heart of hearts, I had known before I got the results. Sebastian and I had made a real, live baby and it was growing inside me. It would gradually turn into an actual person and come into the world in about seven months.
And the father of the baby had no idea we’d even had sex.
With my elbows on the bathroom sink, I dropped my face into my palms. My stomach churned and I hoped I wasn’t going to throw up.
Getting rid of the baby wasn’t an option. I never judged other women for their decisions. Their bodies were just that—theirs. And the decision to have a baby was theirs and theirs alone. Everyone had their own beliefs and no matter how much anyone else disagreed with that belief, they had to suck it up. Because everyone had a right to think and feel however they chose. But I could never choose to consciously stop my own baby from existing. As much as I didn’t want a baby right at this exact moment, I definitely wanted children someday.
Well, guess what, Violet, someday is now.
I’d gotten my master’s degree three months ago and my career had just begun to roll. I was barely making enough money for food, gas and insurance for my car. How was I going to get through the next seven months, then deal with a newborn and still nurture my career? I was totally screwed and my eight-year plan just went kaboom!
Chapter Seven
Sebastian
By the time Violet sauntered back into the main house, her dad and I were just wrapping up the meeting. Her pale face matched the white of the walls, but her eyes resembled the Italian flag—red, white and green. I assumed she’d been worshipping the throne in her bathroom, which made me even more suspicious she was pregnant.
Maybe she was right and she had a virus. Guilt consumed me for making her work so hard on my reputation when she really should be resting. She should be in bed.
With me.
I shook off those thoughts. I was a glutton for punishment to consider sleeping with her when she had made her feelings about me extremely clear. She wasn’t interested. I shouldn’t have been interested either.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Aidan beamed at her. “Feeling okay?”
“Been better, but I’ll survive. Sorry I missed most of the meeting.” She sat on the coffee table in front of Aidan, giving me her profile. “Anything I need to know?”
“TMZ picked up footage of Sebastian’s broadcast this morning,” Aidan said. “As of a few minutes ago, he had already gotten over five thousand replay views. I’ve had several calls this morning wanting interviews, but they’re smalltime. I told them to contact you.”
“Good. It’s already working,” she said, still not looking at me. “And it’s not even one thirty yet. Who knows what will happen next?” She held up her palm for a high five from her dad.
“I talked to Emerson today and he’s got some plans for Sebastian,” Aidan said. “He wasn’t too cooperative a month ago, said he wanted to see how things went with Sebastian before they invested in PR. But he seems to be warming up now.”
“Thanks, Dad. I appreciate you getting the ball rolling on so much of this. We’re still on for three today with Emerson?”
“His secretary hasn’t called to cancel.”
“Good. We’ll see him shortly and see for ourselves his attitude toward Sebastian.” She ran a hand through her thick hair, exposing a handful of freckles on her shoulder.
My tongue yearned to play connect-the-dots on her skin.
“I was planning on lining up some musical gigs, like solo acts.” Violet shifted so I couldn’t see her face anymore. “Maybe have him sing backup on another track. He has a strong and unique voice.”
“Or he can play guitar, maybe start with Outlaw Dogs.” Aidan scratched his chin. “They’re doing a lot of special appearances right now. They’d probably love to have him tag along on one of their spots.”
“Good idea. I’ll see if I can hook him up with some female singers who’d like him featured on their album.” Violet tapped that full bottom lip. “I’ll make a list and maybe you can get in touch with some of them.”
What about me? Didn’t they want my input? I huffed, leaning toward them so I could see their faces.
“I’m sitting right here.”
Violet twisted around, looked me square in the eye and lifted one brow. “No one’s stopping you from pitching in. Wouldn’t hurt you to share in the load, actually. It’s your mess, after all.”
“I guess my reprieve is over. Should’ve known the last twenty-four hours of you being nice were too good to be true.” I tunneled my hand through my hair, shaking my head, then rose from the sofa. “I guess you guys can wrap up the meeting without me.”
As I turned to go, Violet’s voice had my legs rooted to the floor. “See you at the studio in forty-five minutes,” she said.
With my back to them both, I raised a hand and wiggled my fingers, then I let myself out through the front door. I’d thought Violet had chilled a bit, but apparently not. I’d thought we had a moment in my gym earlier when she’d fallen on top of me. Wrong again.
But she’d never been a prospect anyway. I’d known how she was before she’d taken me on as a client. No surprises there. She’d had a kind and generous moment at the hospital yesterday, her saving grace. Other than that, and her amazing ass, she had no redeeming qualities. For her sake, I hoped she eased up or she wouldn’t have any clients. Or she’d better be a miracle worker. Either way, I’d have to put up with her for the next few weeks. And, who knew? Maybe she’d get the job done faster and I could fire her ahead of schedule.
I cruised into the parking lot of the Burbank Mall, ready to walk the two blocks to the record label’s office. I strolled toward Coffee Bean for some caffeine, my head bent down so I wouldn’t be recognized—yeah, I needed exposure, but after being around Violet, getting a breather was a bigger priority. As I neared the entrance door a few yards ahead, a voice stopped me.
“You broke the ice, became my friend. I broke free, was on the mend. Then you broke it off, despite my plea. You broke my heart, you broke me.”
I zeroed in on the skinny black kid wailing away and strumming a custom Gibson in two-tone green. His guitar case lay open in front of his feet, crumpled bills lining the bottom. I hoped he made a good living. My head swaying to the music, I waited through the last note. “Nice runs, man. You have a great voice.”
His mouth dropped open and he blinked. “Thank you, Mr. Trevino.”
“If you get to keep all the money, would you mind if I backed you up?” I jerked my head toward the guitar. I could make time for one song. Besides, it had been too long since I’d performed in public just for the sheer joy of it.
The boy swallowed, then nodded briskly as he held out his Gibson. “Hell, yeah. You wanna do a Full Throttle song or something else?”
Hands tingling and my pulse racing, I reached for the guitar and tossed the strap over my head. “Liam’s songs are working for you. How about Blood is Gonna Spill?”
He wiped his sweaty hands on the thighs of his jeans and took a deep breath. His toes began tapping and I counted along. I hit the first chord and the boy smiled, his head rocking with every strike of the string. “Again you hurt what’s mine. Again you crossed the line. Say you didn’t break the law. And that’s your fatal flaw.”
Damn, this kid was good. I could feel my face splitting into a grin. The boy beamed at me and went into the chorus. “You won’t get another chance to put me in a trance. This time I won’t stand still. Your blood is gonna spill. Will overflow onto the road, until you’ve paid what’s owed.”
I hitched up a thumb when he ripped into the next verse and he visibly relaxed, pacing in front of the crowd that had formed around us. His body moved to the music and he made more eye contact with the audience. I grinned as arms shot out from the crowd and people leaned toward the guitar case to fill it with money.
He drew out the last note and the crowd cheered and clapped. I returned the guitar to the boy, then held out my hand. “What’s your name?”
He gave my hand a brisk shake, then let it go. “Diego.”
“Good to meet you. I have to go, but thanks for letting me sit in. Best of luck to you.” I nodded, but Diego just stood there dumbstruck. I would’ve loved to do another song with him, but then I’d be late for the meeting with Emerson. The record label executives already thought I was a jackass. They didn’t need that opinion fueled by me being late and wasting their time. I was already on thin ice with Violet, and didn’t want her any harder to deal with.
Skipping my coffee stop since I’d already used up any extra time, I continued to the meeting. And Violet. Though it had been less than an hour since I’d left her dad’s place, my stomach tightened at the thought of seeing her again. I tried to convince myself that my reaction to her was purely a side effect from my stress level going up due to her crazy mood swings. That lie lasted about a second.
How I would’ve loved to finish what we’d started in the gym of my house, just turn off the damn phone and run my hands up her side, maybe get a bigger handful of her ass as she pressed against me. I shook my head to clear out those thoughts. Man, if I could be that attracted to a girl like Violet, I really needed to get laid.
Inside the building, the elevator door dinged, then swished open and I dashed inside. It climbed and dinged again before stopping. As soon as I stepped out and into the reception area toward the wide, circular counter, Aidan and Violet each rose from their chair and met me halfway. Aidan clapped me on the shoulder, then whispered, “Remember what we talked about at lunch, the three Ds for success: decision, direction, discipline. Decide what you want to do, set your goal, then stick to it. Show them you can do it.”
That didn’t seem like any fun at all. Not that I required a nonstop party and I was perfectly capable of focusing when necessary. I didn’t mind working long hours or sacrificing sleep for something I loved. But passion had led me to music. The three Ds sucked all the passion out of anything. I would play along anyway and do my best to make Aidan and the execs happy. Not like I had a choice.
My gaze landed on Violet, who was riveted to her phone screen. Aidan followed my line of sight. “What’s the status, sweetheart?” he asked.
Her eyes bugged out. “It hit TMZ and YouTube, already has over seven thousand views. Facebook has close to three hundred shares. Unbelievable.”
“What are you guys talking about?” I asked, trying to get a glimpse of the screen.
“In less than ten minutes?” Aidan asked as if I were invisible, eyeing her phone more closely.
“People perceive it as something with heart, something they didn’t expect at all. Actually, some people are saying it was staged. But we know it wasn’t.” Violet squinted her eyes and touched the screen with a fingertip. “Just refreshed. Another fifty shares on Facebook.”
I opened my mouth to interrogate them when the president of Vista Records approached, his arms wide in welcome and a bright smile on his face—which I would’ve appreciated if I thought Emerson was sincere. Not that he was a complete douche, but ultimately money was his only god.
“Sebastian, good to see you.” He clasped my hand an instant before taking Violet’s and bending to drop a kiss on the back of it. He straightened again, refocusing on Aidan. “Let’s step into my office.”
“You look radiant,” Emerson told Violet as he ushered us into his lavish office. He offered us seats and then took the chair behind the gleaming walnut desk. “Never seen you look more beautiful.”
“Thank you.” She offered him a warm smile. “How are Charlotte and Nathan?”
Why didn’t she share those sweet smiles with me? She’d been nice to the wait staff when we’d gone out to eat, she’d been kind to my fans, and she’d even treated the hospital staff with respect. Except for that brief period when I was looking for my mom and a few moments while we were on Periscope, she’d treated me like vermin. What the hell did I do wrong?
“Charlotte’s graduating high school and Nathan just got his braces off.”
“That’s wonderful.” She flashed him another smile. “Give them a hug for me.”
“So…,” Aidan began, relaxing into the chair next to me.
“Looks like we’re on track for the concert tour. Sebastian should be appearing totally cleaned up in the next few weeks. Violet, would you like to fill him in on our most recent victory?”
“Fill me in on what?” Emerson asked, his brows pinched in skepticism.
“See for yourself.” She abandoned her chair to stand beside Emerson. After tapping her phone a few times, she aimed the screen at him. An extremely poor-quality recording of Blood is Gonna Spill streamed from her phone. I’d just heard that a few minutes ago down the street. That was Diego’s voice. “Wait until the end,” she told Emerson.
I heard myself thanking Diego for letting me sit in and wishing him luck. Okay, so someone had recorded it, but I didn’t get why Violet was showing it to Emerson.
“Already hit TMZ and has thousands of YouTube views. Fans are thinking he’s a god.” Aidan sat straighter in his chair, a proud look on his face.“A little more coverage like this and you won’t have to worry about record sales due to the band’s reputation.”
“Are you kidding me?” Emerson laughed once. “Record sales are based on bad reps and notoriety. I’m just worried about getting sued.”
“Guys, I’m right here.” My mouth skewed in disgust. “You’re not going to get sued, Emerson. I’m not drinking or partying anymore. Honestly, I kind of lost my taste for it.”
Emerson slapped his palms down and pushed off his desk to loom over us. “I’m glad to hear it. If everything goes as planned, you’ll be on tour in a few months. Thanks for coming by.” He did the rounds, shaking our hands, then showed us to the door.
Once in the elevator, Violet rounded on me. “If you could refrain from public performances without my approval, I would appreciate it. You got lucky that this one worked in your favor, but next time, you might not be so fortunate.”
“I’m a grown man, Violet. I’m capable of mature activities without adult supervision.”
She gritted her teeth, then whirled around to face the front of the elevator. As soon as the door opened, she bolted like she couldn’t get away from me fast enough, and threw over her shoulder, “I’ll be at your house in two hours, Sebastian. Please try not to make any waves until then. I’ll meet you at the car, Dad.”
The Baby and the Rock Star (Rock Star Kisses Book 2) Page 6