Wishing On A Star (A Shooting Stars Novel Book 3)

by Terri Osburn

  “Hello, Mr. Scary Dog. I promise I have permission to be in your territory.” The canine stepped closer and nudged her hand until Jesse patted him on the head. “That’s a good boy.” She rubbed around his ears, and black eyes rolled shut in euphoria. “You aren’t scary at all, big fella.”

  The tail was still wagging as Ash entered the room. “I see you’ve met Brutus.”

  “He’s gorgeous.” Jesse put her nose close to the dog’s face. “You could have told me you have a giant dog, though. He scared me half to death.”

  Ash picked up a guitar on his way to the desk, where he set down a plate of sandwiches and lowered into the chair. “I don’t own a dog. Brutus lives next door but uses the dog door to come visit.”

  That explanation made no sense at all. “Why do you have a dog door if you don’t have a dog?”

  “Because Ronnie wanted a dog, but we never got around to adopting one before the divorce.” He gave a half shrug. “I never bothered to take the door out.”

  “Must be a pretty big door for this boy to fit through.” She wiped a drop of slobber off her jeans. “Were you planning to adopt a St. Bernard?”

  Brutus took another step forward, and Jesse lost her balance when her heels hit the open guitar case on the floor. Afraid of crushing her Gibson, she twisted to the side, and Ash caught her less than a foot from the hardwood. She looked up to see the soft lines etched at the corners of his eyes. Eyes that dropped immediately to her lips.

  “You all right?” he asked, breath warm on her cheek.

  Jesse’s heart raced, but not from the tumble. “Yeah, I think so.”

  He held her a moment longer, eyes like crystallized honey locked with hers. As she wrapped her fingers around his warm wrist, Jesse’s world tilted once more as Ash lifted her back to her feet.

  “Sorry about that,” he said, turning away to click on the computer monitors. “Brutus doesn’t know how big he is.”

  Dazed, Jesse straightened her jacket and ignored the sudden weight of disappointment. “Thanks for catching me.”

  “No problem.” He pushed the plate her way. “I made us some sandwiches. Ham and swiss on wheat.”

  The sandwich was Jesse’s favorite, and he’d even cut it diagonally the way she liked. “You remembered.”

  “Yeah,” Ash replied, playing down the gesture. “So what other songs do you have?”

  Jolted by his abrupt switch from hot to cold, she took a second to retrieve her notebooks from beneath the guitar, and then set them on the desk beside the plate. “That’s everything I have.”

  While he perused her work, Jesse grabbed a sandwich and dropped into a rolling chair. Brutus plopped down at her feet and stared intently, but to his credit, refrained from openly begging. Ash flipped through the first book, which had her best stuff, and looked unimpressed. When he opened the more-tattered one, she cringed.

  “Those are old.”

  He slowly turned the pages, showing more interest than before. “Is this one about your grandmother?” Ash asked, flipping the book around for her to see.

  “It is, but the songs in there aren’t album material.”

  Ash ignored her claim. “I haven’t thought about Grandma Evie in years. How is she?”

  Appetite waning, Jesse put the sandwich back on the plate. “She passed away four years ago.” Though she’d meant to speak in a matter-of-fact tone, her voice caught on the passed away part. Unlike her parents, Grandma Evie had lavished Jesse with all the love and attention a young girl could possibly want. She’d often wondered how someone so loving and sweet could have raised a woman as frigid as Enid Rheingold.

  “I’m sorry,” Ash said, his voice laced with regret. “She was a special woman.”

  He’d get no argument there. “Yes, she was.”

  A beat of silence passed before he asked, “Will you play this for me?”

  Jesse never played her truly intimate writings for anyone. Not even Taylor. “I’d rather not.”

  “Come on. I’d really like to hear it.”

  Caving, she lifted the guitar onto her lap and paused to recall the chords. Once she had the melody clear, Jesse closed her eyes and began to sing.

  She had a smile that lit up a room

  Her laughter was contagious

  Blue eyes that sparkled bold and bright

  Always shining when she saw us.

  Lifting her eyes, she checked Ash’s reaction and caught the gentle smile on his lips. With a quick nod, he encouraged her to continue.

  I wanted to be like her

  So strong and yet so soft

  Her love for me was a precious gift

  Her time on earth not long enough.

  To Jesse’s surprise, Ash began to play with her as she rolled into the chorus.

  I had an angel in my life

  One sent from up above

  To fill the holes that others left

  To fill me up with love

  If she could see me here today

  I wonder what she’d say

  I hope that she’d be proud of me

  Sweet Grandma Evie May.

  She let the next chord fade and waved for Ash to stop. “That’s all I have. I never finished it.”

  Ash propped his arms along the top of his guitar. “That’s really good.”

  Brutus barked in agreement, and she laughed, giving the dog a quick scratch under his chin. “I had trouble sleeping in the weeks after she died. One night I heard a tune in my head, and those words poured onto the page.”

  Eyes alight, Ash scooted to the edge of his chair. “Let’s finish it. This is perfect for the album.”

  Jesse closed the old notebook and dropped it back into the case. “I can’t. There’s better stuff in the other book. Besides, no one wants to hear a song about my grandmother.”

  Ash rolled his chair closer. “Jesse, that’s exactly what people want to hear. Think of the listeners out there who feel the same way, but don’t know how to express it like you do. That’s a gift you can give them.”

  Jesse couldn’t imagine singing something so personal in front of a real audience, but she recognized the determined look in Ash’s eye. This was day one, and she was certain there would be plenty of other songs to knock this one out of the running. Letting him help her write a final verse couldn’t hurt anything.

  “Okay, then,” she said. “Let’s finish it.”

  “What rhymes with reminder?” Jesse asked, biting her bottom lip as her pen hovered above the notebook.

  “Kinder?” Ash offered.

  They’d spent thirty minutes working on the song, and Jesse had rejected all of his suggestions. He’d let her have her way, but only because her ideas were better.

  “Not what I was going for,” she replied, studying the page, “but if I reword the previous line, it could work.”

  The way she scrutinized every lyric made Ash wonder where the bubble gum songs had come from. They hadn’t been all bad, but this short session alone revealed what Jesse was capable of, and it wasn’t the shallow stuff she’d played earlier.

  As she flipped the pencil to employ the eraser, her cell phone rang. She tugged it from her back pocket and checked the screen. “It’s Ryan. I really need to take this. He’s on tour, and I don’t know if I’ll get another chance to talk to him today.”

  They’d made enough progress to earn a break. “Go for it.”

  Ash expected Jesse to leave the room, but she stayed in her chair.

  “Hey, baby,” she purred in greeting. “How’s it going?” There was a pause before she added, “I’m working with Ash at his house.” A second later, she visibly stiffened. “What does it matter where we work?”

  Glancing up, Ash caught the confusion in her eyes.

  “I didn’t like working in the label conference room, so Ash suggested we come over here. He has a studio and—”

  Full lips clamped shut, and the voice on the other end grew loud enough for Ash to hear. He couldn’t make out the words, but the ton
e was clear. Ryan Dimitri wasn’t happy.

  “You’re being stupid right now,” she said, spinning her chair to face the opposite direction. “Since when are you jealous of anyone?”

  Jealous? Based on reputation alone, Dimitri had no business suggesting Jesse would be the unfaithful one. The man had cheated on every woman he’d ever dated.

  “I am not giving you a reason to be jealous. He’s my producer. We’re working.”

  Ash fought the urge to snatch the phone from her hands and tell the asshole where he could shove his accusations.

  “I tried to come see you over the weekend so we could celebrate, and you told me not to come. That’s not on me.”

  Ash’s leg bounced as his anger grew. Of course he’d told her not to come. Having his girlfriend around would only curb Dimitri’s extracurricular activities. What was she doing with this dipshit anyway? Jesse knew better. She sure as hell deserved better.

  “I can’t come now, I’m working. We hit the studio next week, and I need to be prepared.”

  Why hadn’t she hung up yet?

  “Jesse,” Ash said, voice loud enough to be heard down the line, “we need to get back to work.”

  She spun the chair and gave him a hold on one damn minute look. As if he was the problem here.

  “Baby, I need to go, but I won’t be here much longer. I’ll call you back, okay?”

  The placating tone infuriated him. She’d done nothing wrong, but Dimitri had her practically apologizing for his bullshit. And who said she wouldn’t be here much longer? They still had nearly two hours before Ash had to be at his mom’s place, and if Jesse thought they were cutting the day even shorter to please the insecure shit on the phone, she was sadly mistaken.

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, and Ash ground his teeth to keep from butting in. “We’ll talk later. Love you.” Jesse pulled the phone away from her ear, and he could tell the last sentiment hadn’t been returned. Spinning back around, she dropped the phone into her guitar case. “Where were we?”

  Leave it alone. Her personal life is none of your business.

  Ash tapped a finger on the notebook as the muscle in his jaw twitched.

  “What’s wrong with you?” she asked, giving him the attitude she should have given her boyfriend.

  That was it. Jesse was his business, and she always would be.

  Eleven

  “What’s wrong with me?” Ash exploded. “What’s wrong with you, Jesse? Why did you let him talk to you like that?”

  Jesse was not in the mood to deal with another cranky man.

  “My conversation with my boyfriend is none of your business.”

  “Bullshit,” Ash snapped, and Brutus leapt to his feet with a whine. “Nobody gets to talk to you like that. Not when I’m around.”

  “You haven’t been around for years, and I’ve taken care of myself just fine. I don’t need you telling me what to do.”

  “He accused you of cheating on him.”

  “He has a right to ask,” she snapped back, reaching for the notebook. “We’re alone in your house. Ryan doesn’t know you. How’s he supposed to know if he can trust you with his girlfriend?”

  “You cannot be serious. How about he should know he can trust you?” Ash shoved a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. “And where does a guy with his reputation get off even suggesting that?”

  Jesse bolted from the chair, catching the guitar before it hit the floor. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Ash held her gaze. “You know what it means. Why are you with him, Jesse?”

  Realizing her mistake, she fit the guitar into its case and clicked it shut. “I am not doing this. I don’t have to sit here and be insulted.”

  “Your boyfriend is the one who insulted you. Why didn’t you get this angry with him?”

  “Why would I be angry with Ryan for caring about me?” Jesse snagged her jacket off the back of the chair. “That’s more than I can say for you.”

  Without looking back, she charged from the room, hurt and shame clogging her throat. In her heart, she knew that Ash was right, but hearing him voice the reality she’d denied for so long raised her defenses. Jesse’s vision blurred with the threat of tears, and she picked up her pace.

  “You can’t leave,” he said, following behind her. “We have work to do.”

  “We’re done.” Wiping her eyes with her sleeve, she pushed on, blowing through the front door and rushing down the steps. Despite her best efforts, Ash reached the Jeep before she could start the engine.

  “This album is too important to walk away because of a stupid argument.” He leaned on the door. “I crossed the line, but I couldn’t let him walk all over you like that. You deserve better than that asshole, Jesse. Don’t let him ruin this for you.”

  Brutus barked from the porch, and she couldn’t decide if he was yelling at her, too, or scolding them both for fighting. Neither made her feel any better.

  Eyes locked on the steering wheel, she said, “You’re the one ruining this. Thanks for nothing, Ash.” Jaw tight, she finally turned his way. “Again.”

  Slamming the Jeep into gear, Jesse backed from the drive and with a quick shift, she peeled away, paying little attention to where she was going. Several blocks later, she pulled into a parking lot to pull up the GPS on her phone since she wasn’t familiar enough with the area to find her way out. Once the lady in the phone started giving directions, Jesse got back on the road and tried not to think about what she’d just done. But, of course, that was all she could think about.

  What was she going to do now? Obviously, she and Ash couldn’t work together. Even if they managed to establish hard boundaries about where Ash did and did not poke his nose into her life, he’d already made his opinion on Ryan abundantly clear. His reputation, as Ash had put it, was in the past. Ryan was different with her. He was faithful, and there was no reason to think otherwise. Yes, she had her doubts, especially when he was out on the road, but if he was out there hitting up every eye lash-fluttering chick in a mini-skirt, Jesse would know.

  The other members of Flesh and Blood weren’t exactly the responsible type, and they certainly weren’t good at keeping secrets. If there was evidence of infidelity, she’d have seen or heard about it by now. Davy alone lived on Instagram, and if he managed not to blow a secret like that, then the secret flat out didn’t exist.

  Drying her cheeks, Jesse approached a traffic light, and the phone told her to hang a left. A few more turns and she reached the interstate. Jesse closed the app with a deep sigh as reality set in. This was bad. Very, very bad. Clay Benedict was going to be furious, and she didn’t blame him. Jesse was proving the rumors to be true—she was impossible to work with.

  Desperate to save her career, she took the next exit and found a spot to pull off to use her phone. Silas would know what to do.

  Clay spent Monday morning reviewing resumes. The label had been in operation for a year and a half, and thanks to the success of Dylan’s debut record, followed by Chance’s album entering the charts at number one, Shooting Stars was ready to hire an A&R Director.

  Otherwise known as the Artist and Repertoire division, he was looking for an individual to handle talent scouting and artist development. Until now, Clay had filled the role himself. His first two choices had proved successful, and he had every faith that Jesse Gold would do the same. But as the label grew, so did Clay’s responsibilities, and he needed someone on the task full time. A new batch of hopefuls arrived in Music City on a daily basis, and he didn’t have the time needed to unearth the true stars.

  That meant adding a new member to the team.

  So far, he’d printed off three resumes for consideration. One in particular stood out from the rest, and he’d already scheduled the applicant for an interview the next day. As he checked his schedule for when he could schedule the others, the cell phone in his suit coat pocket vibrated to life. The screen revealed the caller to be Joanna Rossi. After the little revelation during h
is golf game with Silas, Clay had no desire to take the call, but he now knew not to underestimate her. Or tick her off any more than he already had.

  Teeth grinding, he answered the call. “Hello, Joanna.”

  “Hello, Clayton,” she purred, feigning the posh accent she’d donned in recent years. Clay, of course, knew she’d once been a country-bumpkin waitress with a thick Carolina drawl. “I hadn’t heard from you in so long, I feared you might have deleted my number from your phone.”

  He’d considered taking that step but kept the number for this very reason. “I haven’t had a reason to call you.”

  The purr evaporated. “Is that your way of saying you’ve replaced me?”

  When would she give up this stupid game? They’d had an affair—a choice Clay would regret for the rest of his life—but he’d ended things two years ago. She lacked any semblance of a heart, so the endless pursuit was not motivated by undying love. She’d also made her intentions clear when it came to her husband. Joanna would not divorce Tony for any reason.

  So why the hell wouldn’t she let this go?

  “I’m not seeing anyone, if that’s your question. I also haven’t initiated any more regrettable affairs.” Clay should have held his temper in check and stopped at the first statement, but he didn’t like being manipulated and had endured enough of her threats. Up to now, he’d been firm without engaging in an all-out battle, but her decision to share their secret with Silas amounted to a declaration of war.

  “You didn’t seem to regret our affair when you were buried inside me on your desk at Foxfire. Or in that limo on our way to dinner in New York. I’m sure the driver would agree with me. Surely he heard the whole thing.”

  Clay’s jaw tightened. “What do you want, Joanna?”

  “You know what I want.”

  “Why?” he asked, truly perplexed. “We both know you can find someone else. Or better yet, try limiting your bedroom exploits to your husband.”

  The snap in her voice softened. “I’d rather have you, Clayton. It was always you.”