"Stop looking at that crap." Lola broke into my musings, kicking the papers back behind my chair. I knew she would have them thrown away before I vacated my seat. "Let's talk about how I can get you and Mr. Hottie Guitar-carrying Guy together." She lifted her eyebrows up and down at me in the mirror.
“Actually, I just met this other guy last night that I think would be perfect for you." Hopefully, that would sidetrack her. When she looked at me with interest, I continued. "He's Rhett's friend. Just as good looking, but think more brooding and mysterious."
“Oh, you know I love the troubled ones.” She beamed.
"His name is Gage, and he'll be at the party here tonight."
It seemed I had decided it would be impossible to avoid Rhett and his friends. I still had no idea why he could possibly be here meeting with my team, but Rose kept bringing him around and I trusted Rose.
If I was honest with myself, I liked hanging out with them. Sienna was sweet and funny. Gage was real and down-to-earth. And I felt like it was my mission to get Alex to open up his eyes about Sienna.
Yes, I needed this. I needed new people in my life, just like Beau had suggested.
— FIVE —
“What?” I blurted out. “I don’t need anyone new!”
So much for those thoughts I had not even two hours before. Now I was sitting around a vast wooden conference table staring at all the essential people who handled my career at Monumental Records. And they had just laid one hell of a bombshell on me.
They wanted Rhett to join my band.
As a vocalist.
Vocalist was my role.
Rhett sat quietly next to Rose across the table from me. I immediately felt ambushed and betrayed. No one had said anything to me about this. No one had warned me or briefed me. No one said anything.
I was told this meeting was about creative development. That usually meant they wanted to get a feel for the sound of the next album. Instead, I was basically getting demoted.
In front of everyone.
“This was your idea, wasn’t it?” I practically growled at that stupid pretty boy across the dark mahogany table. “That’s why you insisted on us playing together more?”
“It wasn’t his idea, Ever,” Rose quickly intervened.
I glared at him, and he said, "It wasn't. But I'm not dumb enough to turn down an opportunity like this."
“Ever, you’ve lost your say in the matter,” Keith announced. “Your sales are dropping. We can’t keep reviving your career for you. You need a boost. And we think Mr. Grayson is the perfect guy to do that.”
Rhett Grayson. What a stupid name.
I knew my sales had taken a little dip. But what did they expect? It had been almost two years since my last album was released, and they dictated every song that went on it. If they would just let me release my next one soon, we’d be golden.
“Grow up, Ever.” June joined the peanut gallery. “It's not all about you. We're running a business, not a preschool where we have to make sure everything is fair and fun.”
My mother was about two seconds away from being shipped back to Ohio. And I wouldn’t splurge on First Class.
I noticed Rhett glaring at June as well. Even he didn’t like her.
One of my label managers, Marla—who hadn't been at the bar last night—spoke up. "We saw the video. In fact, everyone has seen the video. It's gone viral, and everyone loves the two of you together. As do we. It's a good move, Ever." Her eyes were soft when she spoke, pleading with me not to argue about this.
My stomach started to feel queasy and I rested my hand across it before I asked, “What video?”
“Play it,” Keith said, rocking back in his chair while spinning his Rolex around his wrist.
A large projector aimed at one of the blank walls flickered, and I watched as the bar from last night came into view. Immediately, I recognized Rhett and me on stage. I had just called him ‘subway boy,' and his mouth was hanging wide open in shock.
Before the singing started, I waved my hands in the air. "Stop, stop. I know how this goes." I really didn't need to hear our voices together again. Especially not right now. Not today. Not ever.
They thought I wasn't good enough to handle this on my own anymore. Apparently, I needed help to sell records. Help in the form of the subway-playing guy I had only met yesterday.
How could they do this to me without even trying to appear as if I had a say?
Everyone at the table stared at me, more than likely waiting for me to say something. I knew they wanted me to shut up, smile and agree with this more than anything.
I continued staring at the now paused video of the two of us looking at one another. I thought about the layout of the bar. I pictured the small stage and the audience peering up at us. The angle of the camera indicated it was directly in front of us. I tried to remember who was sitting where. I glanced from the wall to… Rose.
"You didn't…" I couldn’t keep the pain of her betrayal off my face. "Please tell me you didn’t take this?" I whispered.
She shrank back in her seat, almost as if she could disappear right there in front of me. This couldn’t be happening. My assistant of eight years didn’t just breach her contract so she could get some guy we barely knew signed on with me, did she?
I looked away, not knowing what to do about her at that moment. I faced my producers and managers and took a deep breath. Then I released it slowly to avoid tearing anyone’s head off.
Jay sat up from his slumped position. “You hate it. I know. But once you get past this, you two will rock.”
I usually loved Jay’s calm practicality, but today it ruffled my feathers. “This could have been handled better.”
"Ever, it doesn't matter. You would have never agreed anyway," one of them declared. "You signed a contract stating that we can change up the band and albums as we see fit."
As we see fit. So basically, they owned me and everything I did.
“You know I’ll have my lawyer check that out, right?” Of course, that meant I needed to hire a new lawyer that wasn’t paid by my label.
Keith nodded his head and stated, "You are more than welcome to, but we are moving forward with this. You aren't selling alone anymore. The sooner everyone is on board, the sooner we can get into the studio."
"Not selling anymore? My last album went platinum. That’s a bullshit excuse. And I have no say whatsoever? We've worked together for over eight years, and this is how you decide to convince me of a major change to not only my career, but my life?"
He sighed and stared at me as if I were an insolent teenager throwing a tantrum about curfew. In actuality, all I wanted was to know why it had to be handled like this. The room stayed quiet.
Rhett’s guitar case lay across the table in front of him. He was leaning over it, hugging it to himself. I doubt he went anywhere without that thing.
“And what about that?” I pointed to the case. “Is he just doing vocals with me, or is he playing as well?”
“It will be beneficial to have him play,” Keith said. “You heard how good he is.”
“He has to play,” Jay piped in. “It would be wasted talent if he didn’t.”
“So what about Abe? What about Nixon and Jared?” I asked, already knowing I wasn’t going to like whatever he’d have to say. “And why aren’t they here? Shouldn’t my band be here for a meeting like this?”
Nixon was my cousin and my bassist. He wasn't the best bass guitar player out there—and we all knew he only got the job because he was family—but he was always on point with me. Abe had been my lead guitar from the very beginning as well, and I considered him one of the best in the business. Then there was Jared on drums, but I didn't expect his position was in any danger. Unless Golden Boy could play those as well. Hell, we might all be in danger of losing our jobs.
I watched Rhett cringe for only a fraction of a second before he tried to wipe it from his face. Oh no, I wasn’t goin
g to like this one bit.
"We've informed Abe that there has been a change," Marla said. "Jay knows many bands. We are confident he will have a new position very soon."
“What?! How could all of this have been decided behind my back? And don’t you think it’s all a bit rash? This is the shadiest deal you guys have done yet!” I blurted out. “Why don’t you just fire me while you’re at it, huh? I mean, Golden Boy over here can sing, play an instrument, and hell, he can probably dance and smile pretty for all of his interviews too. Why do you need me anymore?” I stood from my seat, feeling too much all at once.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Keith scoffed. “Your fan base is too large to disregard.”
I looped my arm through my purse straps and stared down at everyone looking back up at me. This group was supposed to help me. They were put together for my best interests. We were supposed to be business partners. Now I felt as if I’d been stabbed in the back.
“Once I contact my lawyer, we can talk more about this.” I pushed my chair out of the way and stepped around it. “In the meantime, don’t contact me.”
“Ever, we need to get the two of you in the studio. Like yesterday,” Jay said. He was all about the music.
"Let Golden Boy have at it… I'm sure it'll all come down to whatever he wants anyway." My heels clicked across the wood floor as I made my way out of that hellhole. Beau stood as my silent guard right inside the door, and when I approached, he opened it and moved aside for me to exit. "Oh, and Rose…" I looked at her, still shrinking in her chair. "You're fired."
She gasped, but I didn't stick around to hear what she or anyone else had to say. I might not have control over much, but that was one thing I did get to decide.
“Rough day at the office, kiddo…” Beau huffed as we walked down the elegantly decorated halls.
"I wish I had the guts to give them all the middle finger and quit this shit show." The words barely made it past my clenched teeth. "I should just move back to Ohio and waitress in Dad's diner."
“You love it too much to do that,” Beau said, his eyes glancing in a hundred directions all at once. He was always on the lookout, yet he still made me feel that I had his undivided attention. When we reached the private elevators, his hand reached out to press the call button after inserting a key. “Besides, can you imagine your poor father’s diner being overrun with screaming fans all wanting to see Ever James waiting tables?” He chuckled under his breath.
“Do you know if Lola is upstairs?” I asked, not in the mood to laugh along, even though I knew he was just trying to cheer me up.
“I believe Miss Masters stepped out to buy a few things for your photo shoot this afternoon.”
I really needed someone to talk to, and Lola was usually my go-to gal. Her, or Rose. And well… I just fired Rose. Noah was like talking to a brick wall. He offered nothing in return if it wasn't about him. It was always in one ear and out the other.
Beau gently pushed my lower back to guide me onto the elevator when I heard someone call out for us to wait. Beau stopped abruptly and spun on his heel, instantly on the defensive.
“Ever, wait up,” Rhett called out again. He reached the elevator and collided with Beau’s arm that was barring him from moving any closer.
“Whoa… easy.” Rhett stepped back.
“Close enough,” Beau growled.
“You know I’m not a threat. I was just in that meeting with her.”
“I do not know if you are a threat,” Beau simply responded.
Rhett sighed audibly and looked over Beau’s arm at me. “Hey, can we talk?”
The elevator began to ding when the doors were prevented from closing. I stepped out with Beau still glued to my side and let the doors close behind us.
“I’m sure we can talk, but I just don’t feel like it right now. I have a shoot to get ready for, a new lawyer to find, a new assistant to hire… oh, and now I have to deal with the huge embarrassment of having to share my career. So, yes I’m sure we can talk, but do I want to? No.”
“Look, I realize how rough that was…” he began.
I almost slapped Beau’s arm out the way but instead pushed it roughly in my anger, getting as close as he would allow me. “You know nothing—absolutely nothing—about this world.”
"You're right," he stated. "But I just wanted to say you should really reconsider firing Rose. She wasn't trying to be malicious."
"What is going on with you two? Are you fucking each other?" The words slipped from my mouth. To most, it may have sounded like jealousy, but thankfully, it didn’t appear as if Rhett took it that way.
“What? No,” he scoffed. “I just met her a few weeks ago. I really believe that she thought she was genuinely helping you out when she suggested this idea to the label.”
"She went behind my back. She recorded a video of me and let the tabloids get a hold of it. That's a direct violation of her contract."
"She only gave that video to the bigwigs in there. I think you need to blame the tabloid leak on someone else." He pointed behind him toward the conference room of traitors.
I sighed, even more frustrated. I could fight this. I could hire a lawyer and have this whole video leak investigated because it was illegal for my own label to give out a personal video of me without my permission. But that would burn even more bridges, and I already felt exhausted at the thought of the fight.
“You sure you want to get into this backstabbing, shallow world? Sure, I have more money in my bank than I’ll ever know what to do with, but I’m starting to wonder what it’s all for…”
“No, I’m not sure. That’s why I’m only signing a partial contract, for now.”
“What’s that mean? A partial contract?” I asked, intrigued.
“Means I’m only signing on for a few months at a time. Gives me an out if I decide I hate this.”
Wow, I couldn’t believe they allowed that. Why didn’t I think of that? Oh yeah, I was sixteen at the time, my mother was my manager, and more than likely, my contract was written with my blood smeared across the dotted line, promising a lifetime of commitment and my firstborn child.
I sighed. “You’ll love it. They’ll love you.”
"Wow, you sound… happy about that," he said, chuckling.
“I have somewhere I need to be. Beau, the elevator please.”
I turned from Rhett’s burning gaze and watched Beau summon the box to come back down again.
"We should really try to hit the studio. See if we can learn to just… vibe together. Okay… well, we already know we can do that, but we should get to know each other's style."
“I need time to think by myself. Today has been a lot and it’s only noon.” I sighed. “Look, I realize this is something I’ll just have to get over. And, I’m sure we’ll get around to working in the studio together. But, right now, I need time.” I turned away from him and then quickly turned back to add, “Don’t think that this little conversation made me like you any more. Because I don’t. I still feel betrayed.”
I stepped into the elevator and Beau followed me, making it clear that Rhett was not allowed on.
He didn’t appear to be affected by the snub in the least. The smirk on his face stated that he was still enjoying himself. “Well, we should work on that, shouldn’t we? I mean, we should really spend a lot of time together. Days and nights. I'll win you over." He winked right before the doors closed, and I didn't even get a chance to roll my eyes at him.
Beau stood to my left, and I could see the smirk on his lips.
“Don’t you dare…” I warned.
“I like him.”
“Well, stop.”
He chuckled, and I huffed in frustration. It seemed that just like Alex had warned at the bar, everyone was falling under Rhett’s stupid spell.
— SIX —
Hey, let's hang out tonight.
My phone beeped with the message just as I finished changing out of my war
drobe for the magazine shoot. It was close to eight at night, and we finally wrapped up after six hours of costume changes and makeup adjustments. They even had to wash and re-style my hair at one point. My cheeks were officially sore from smiling and holding certain expressions for long periods of time. My body ached from contorting it every which way for hours on end. I was beyond relieved to see my hotel again, even though I knew I had another long night ahead.
I turned the screen and let Beau glance at the unknown number. “Do you know this person?”
He was already jotting it down when he shook his head. “Don’t respond.”
Too late. My fingers hit the reply button before he could get the chance to stop me.
“You just did, didn’t you?” he asked, sounding frustrated.
I looked down at my response. Who is this? It was innocent enough.
Subway Boy or Golden Boy or whatever cute loveable nickname you have for me now.
My teeth ground together. Cute and loveable? "Call off your manhunt, it’s… him,” I almost growled to Beau.
No.
His response was almost instantaneous. No? Seriously it’s Rhett.
That was my answer regarding tonight.
No biggie, maybe tomorrow, he replied. Huh, that was a little too easy.
“The boy is trying,” Beau said quietly as we made our way through the hotel.
I shrugged it off. “Too bad. I’m busy tonight.”
I heard the huff pass through Beau’s lips. “God forbid you miss yet another party in your hotel suite.”
“You’re more than welcome to join us,” I teased.
"Hmph… old men don't party with twenty-year-olds. On second thought, old men don't party period," he grumbled.
“Old?” I laughed. “You’re what, maybe ten years older than me?” I was fishing but knew, like always, I wouldn’t get a straight answer.
“Ten, twenty, thirty. Doesn’t matter how much older I am. I keep you safe. That’s what matters.” He held my hotel door open for me, letting me pass.
“You’re so boring, Beau. I’m going to find you a good woman one day. And she’ll be nice and wild. Someone to keep you on your toes.”
Ever Lonely (Ever James Band Book 1) Page 6