Legendary Rock Star: Enemies to Lovers Romance (Steel Series Book 1)

by Victoria Pinder

  She pressed her hand to her cheek and shook her head while she looked at the e-signature. She said, “Just like that, I’m a ghost who’s not credited on your comeback Christmas album. Guess it’s fitting.”

  She put her phone on the table and I took her hands and stared into her pretty blue eyes. and said, “You’ll never be forgotten in my life, Maggie. I’ve never been like this, with anyone.”

  She pressed her forehead on mine and neither of us moved. I didn’t want to break the connection, but she pulled away and took a piece of me with her. She asked, “Why don’t you set up a meeting with Mark for me once I win the show?”

  I swallowed my pride, as she was asking me to hold off on an opportunity too. I could push this album out regardless, but her contract would ensure she was given credit and paid fairly. I said with confidence, “Mark has already read the show’s contract. They have no claim to anything we did before coming to camp. If we recorded anything now, they’d get a cut. But I’ll do as you want and set up a meeting. I’d prefer if we worked together on this.”

  Her eyes welled up with tears. She wiped her eyes with her napkin and then said, “Thank you for waiting. The meeting with the judges and production made me feel like I was wasting everyone’s time.”

  I should have demanded to be there with her. Practice had been a waste of time. My shoulders squared. I wanted to argue with the judges now.

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “You’re a star in the making.”

  She curled her hand on my fist and unwound my fingers until our palms met as she said, “Thank you. I wanted to be discovered as a solo artist. So that’s why I came here, and why I listened to them lecture me on my figure today.”

  Solo. She didn’t want me. My back felt like it had a fresh stab wound, but I ignored the pain and said, “You’re beautiful as you are.”

  “Thanks.” She ate her banana and stirred her tea. Once she finished her fruit snack that subbed for lunch she said, “I’m excited to have a shot at a solo act, and to show them that singing matters more than looks.”

  That wasn’t how this city worked. Yes, she wanted to be famous on her own terms, but L.A. only cared about the superficial. Maybe that was what I was drawn to about her. Maggie was real. I massaged my scalp as I said, “You’ll have to beat me, and I know how to play to the cameras.”

  She sipped her green tea and then stopped to add lemon while I said, “Look, I’ve been Mark’s client for years. But the truth is, I think he feels sorry for me. I’m his charity case.”

  She sucked in her lips and then met my gaze. I waited for another attack as she asked, “Phoenix, why did you get kicked out of Indigo 5? The real story and not what I read in the magazines.”

  Yeah, this was it. The reason she’d leave me. I was a horrible person who should be in prison. I said quietly, “You won’t like me anymore if I tell you.”

  She squeezed my hand and said, “I think you need to tell someone who’s willing to be impartial.”

  Now that was something new. I’d not talked about this in years. No one ever asked. They assumed they knew the truth, and I’d lived in silence on the topic.

  But was I an idiot to tell her? The second I did, we’d be done. My body tightened but then cameras came running toward us, along with the host, who asked, “How are the lovebirds?”

  They focused on our hands and she took hers away as I said, “We’re doing fine. Thanks.”

  “We’re just friends,” Maggie said. “Nothing more.”

  “Sure,” the host said, as he sat across from us like he’d been invited. “What are you and Phoenix talking about right now?”

  My lips curled. I guess I should have expected to be interrupted. And I probably should be happy for the reprieve. But adrenaline coursed through me. It was better to just get through this. I patted my stomach like I’d just eaten and said, “Nothing that exciting.”

  He turned toward Maggie and gave her a gaze that made me stiffen when he asked, “Spill a little for the cameras. How is kissing Phoenix Steel?”

  Her face turned red and I held her hand tightly under the table as she said, “I’m here to show the world my singing voice.”

  The host laughed like he didn’t believe her and said, “Come on. The fans want to know.”

  Wait. Did they think last night was an act?

  My heart beat harder. This wasn’t good.

  Maggie then stared at the camera and waved as she said, “Look, Phoenix is a sweetheart of a guy who’s here for his second chance. But I’m here to show the world who I am and let America hear my voice. That’s all that’s happening.”

  The host had a “yeah, right” expression. They really did think this was all a lie. Part of me was wound up as the host asked, “So are you worried your parents might think he’s a bad boy?”

  Maggie shook her head and said, “I’m over eighteen. My father might be a minister, but I’m here to follow my own path and my own heart, and sing.”

  “We’ll leave you two alone for now,” the host said.

  I watched the cameras go away. I needed to hit a gym to calm down.

  Or maybe do one of those acrobatic dance numbers that made me not think.

  Maggie shook her head and said, “I wasn’t expecting that.”

  My eyes followed the cameras and I swore I still saw a red light on. “We should have,” I said.

  She put our hands on the table and said, “You were going to tell me what happened with your old band?”

  “Not here,” I said, and pulled away.

  I traced her sexy thigh and she gave me a shy smile as she asked, “Why not?”

  I leaned closer like I’d kiss her, but said, “I think they are spying on us. After the show tonight, they are having a party post production. No matter what happens and who’s at the bottom, let’s get out of here.”

  She stayed close like she’d kiss me any second, but asked, “And go where?”

  Her lips were more inviting than dinner after a long workout. I moved closer and said, “Anywhere we can talk for a little while.”

  “And then you’ll tell me?” she asked. But then I claimed her mouth.

  Her kisses were my undoing.

  She was sweet and she was what I wanted far more than anything else, including winning.

  With her, I’d already found myself. The kiss ended and I said, “I hope I don’t destroy your faith in me when I do.”

  She didn’t pull away as she said, “Only one way to find out. And I’m sure it’s not as bad as you believe.”

  Almost killing someone wasn’t easily forgotten or forgiven. I knew that. Maggie was a church girl and I was her ruination. I said, “I’m not so sure.”

  She shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal and said, “Clearly you’ve changed since then.”

  “I have?” I asked and tugged her thigh over my lap.

  She wrapped her arms around my neck and let me get closer as she said, “Sure. You don’t drink or do drugs, and there are no other women in your life, are there?”

  “You’re the only one I’ve wanted since we met. And you’re not my type at all,” I said and scooted closer.

  The only barrier between us now was our clothes. She held her breath. “What’s your type?”

  If I was right and the cameras saw us, then her parents would see this too. I might not get a chance to tell her if they talked sense into her. “Girls who don’t ask me questions.”

  “That will never be me.”

  I should tell her to leave me right now, I thought, but instead I said, “Tomorrow we’ll talk.”

  And then she sat up and pulled me closer for another kiss.

  I wanted her like I wanted to believe that I had a shot at happily-ever-after. I didn’t deserve it. I should be in hell. And I would be when she tossed me over. For now, though, I wanted her. And her kiss was just the beginning.

  I needed to know what it would be like to have all of her.

  And that made me the bad guy because I refused to
let anyone else have her, ever again. Maggie was mine.

  8

  Maggie

  What could I do? I knew he was using me to redeem his bad boy image. The Christmas songs were another means to an end.

  And I had played into his hands. He could potentially never pay me for singing a song that ended up on the radio.

  Another reason to never kiss him or trust him.

  Yet my entire body tingled like I’d never actually lived or experienced anything in my entire life before, and somehow I’d discovered now who I was.

  Because of Phoenix’s kiss. How was that possible? I couldn’t explain it.

  However, my brain wanted to shout to the rooftops that I had already won. This wasn’t good.

  I was here to win the competition. Maybe he’d set me up with a meeting with Mark Powers. Or maybe he was just pulling the strings to confuse me.

  It was hard to follow my heart when it was pulling me in two different directions.

  Trust Phoenix or stick to my plan? My brain said to stick to the plan.

  So here I was, behind the practice studio, waiting for Phoenix, who was helping to tweak the arrangements of the bottom three singers from last night’s show. I had goosebumps on my arms. I had no idea why he was helping the others when he should be keeping his talent to himself.

  Once the red lights went out, I stood straighter. They were finished. The band came out, happy to be done.

  But I had a fire under my skin the second I laid eyes on those brown, sultry eyes of his. This was distracting. He hugged me and my entire body melted into him like butter into corn fresh out of the oven. As the hug ended, I said, “I’m so sad for Sawyer, Rihanne and Wyatt.”

  He shrugged and said, “It’s not us.”

  That sounded callous. It was me not that long ago. And he’d spent his day helping them, far more than the judges had. My lips curved into a frown as I stared at him and said, “For now.”

  He glanced up and down at my black knee-length dress and black heels and beamed. While I never wanted a man’s opinion, Phoenix’s warm gaze just made me love being with him even more.

  He said, “Let’s just smile for the cameras at the after party and then we’ll find our way to the back door.”

  If I went with him, did I betray my hopes and dreams? I was aware he was pressuring me to go. We stopped at the men’s dorm and he left me to throw on a change of clothes.

  When he came back out, we went back to the studio and waited for the stage crew to direct us to the hotel conference room via a golf cart. I hopped on and Phoenix took the seat beside me, while Wyatt, Sawyer and Rihanne jumped in after him, pretty much squishing us closer.

  Yeah. I needed a few minutes. I whispered to Phoenix, “What do we do then?”

  He came closer like he’d kiss my neck and I tilted my head to let him. He said, “My driver is waiting for us behind the kitchen, in the limo.”

  Cash wasn’t a problem for him. But then, it shouldn’t be. I grew up admiring him, along with a million other fans. The cart stopped and we all climbed out. I fixed my dress to ensure no wrinkles while we let the others pass us. Then I asked, “And we’ll be back before we’re missed?”

  He winked at me like all was arranged. Then he held up his fingers in a Boy Scout salute and said, “Two hours and then we circle back.”

  The plan was amazing. I nodded at him and said, “Okay. I’ll go with you.”

  We headed into the party and I glanced around. We left each other’s side to circulate, snapped a few photos with different people, and offered various hellos. As we made our way fully around the room, he came up beside me again near a side door. My heart blossomed like a flower as Phoenix squeezed my arm.

  It was time. Excitement made my bones jumpy but I followed his lead and rushed out the side door with him.

  Two minutes later we were inside his limo. Suddenly his face turned white and he said to the driver, “Hank, can you turn on K102 FM? And turn it up.”

  “Sure thing,” Hank replied and hit the button.

  “Why are we listening to the ra—,” I asked. Then I sat still.

  Phoenix ran his hand through his hair and shook his head. I heard my own voice singing, A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices.

  Goosebumps grew on me as Phoenix recited the next line. For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn …

  I’d signed that waiver giving him free use of the recordings. So I got nothing from this. I was silent and staring at Phoenix as I heard myself sing, Fall on your knees …

  I’d been used and I was frozen with anger. It was like my spotlight had been stolen. My limbs were shaking when I finally found the words to ask, “How did this happen?”

  “Mark texted me. The label let the demo slip,” he said, and his thumb massaged my arm to calm me down. “He wants to meet with you to make this right.”

  Lies. His kisses were all a distraction from the goal. I had moved my parents cross-country in a three-day road trip from Kansas City to Los Angeles in our minivan to chase my goal. And now, here I was.

  On the radio, but penniless. I’d been warned L.A. was full of thieves.

  The radio announcer was saying in a smooth bass voice, “So, I hope Phoenix Steel and his new girlfriend, Maggie Carrigan, have put you in the holiday mood. I’m sure they did, with that romantic rendition.”

  Girlfriend? Dropping my name didn’t change anything. He was the only one who would profit from this. A small laugh came out of my throat as the limo pulled up in front of some fancy bar. I said to him, “You used me and God with that O Holy Night recording.”

  Hank opened the door for us and I stepped out to have my feet on the ground for this conversation.

  Phoenix said, “I’ll set up a meeting with Mark whenever you’re ready. I won’t touch a dime of that money unless you’re paid fairly.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Look, my aunt and uncle died a few months ago. Once the contract is sorted out, all my initial profits for the Christmas album will go to my cousins so they aren’t penniless.”

  Was this for real? Or just emotional manipulation to get me to listen? I held my breath and walked inside. The restaurant sparkled with white crystal and pink undertones. As we followed the hostess to a table, I asked, “When do I meet with Mark Powers?”

  “Whenever you want,” he said, while the waitress handed us menus.

  She asked if we wanted anything to drink and I ordered white wine. Maybe it would make the bitter taste in my mouth dissipate. I said, “Have him come here then, and tell me why it’s okay to stab me in the back.”

  Once the girl in the white shirt had brought my drink, Phoenix folded his hands on mine and said, “He’s at the label’s office, trying to uncover the leak. He’ll call me later.”

  “Convenient.”

  “I’d not hurt another singer again.”

  “What do you mean ‘again’? What happened?”

  “Are you still going to listen impartially?”

  My heart pounded a little less with the glass of wine in my hand. I’d never be alone with Phoenix again. People who hurt me aren’t worth my time. But it wouldn’t cost me anything to listen to him.

  So after I took a sip, I nodded and said, “Why not?”

  The waitress came back and he ordered a chicken sandwich for me and I didn’t complain. I hadn’t had bread since the battle over my wardrobe, and I probably shouldn’t eat it.

  Once the waitress left, he said, “Until you and the show, I’ve only been around people who are constantly reminding me of my need to reform. Or around types just seeking attention.”

  I wrapped my head around that thought. I hated it when I was continually being reminded of my mistakes. And going through rehab meant reliving the wrong thing, over and over.

  “I craved the excitement of the stage because it takes away the gnawing hunger of being alone,” he said.

  “I’ve been to your house,” I said. “You don’t need anyone or anything.”

/>   “I don’t have anyone to share things with, except for a few cousins who have their own lives, thousands of miles away,” he said.

  “You have friends,” I said.

  “Who I never see.”

  I said, “Yeah, that would make me lonely, too, but that’s not an excuse for using me.”

  “I’m not.”

  The waitress refilled my wine and brought his iced tea and a plate of guacamole with some chips. She glanced at Phoenix and gave him a flirty smile but when he didn’t respond, she left.

  He didn’t even notice. He pressed his hand on my thigh and asked, “So what about you?”

  “What about me?” My breathlessness wasn’t attractive, and I was hot in the face. “We didn’t come here to talk about my life.”

  His gaze narrowed and he pressed his forehead to mine and said, “We don’t have to talk at all.”

  “Then we’re done?” I ran my hand over my updo as the waitress came back with our dinner.

  “No. Just give me a minute.”

  “Fine.” I pushed the teriyaki chicken off the bun and started cutting it up with my fork and knife.

  He waited till I was finished cutting my food, all at once, like I was a little kid. Then he asked, “So why me? My friends played more interesting characters on the show. As a boy, I was the nerdy one.”

  “I’ve always preferred nerdy music types,” I said.

  I could see the waitress looking him over. My stomach knotted and I knew I was jealous. Countless women must have tried with him. And ones far more experienced. I ignored the obvious glance she gave him from her station, and said, “You had the sweetest voice as a kid. You have more talent in your pinkie than most people have in their entire bodies.”

  He held up his little finger and showed it to me while he said, “And that’s why you had a crush on me?”

  I pushed his finger down and shook my head as I said, “You were my preteen fantasy and I had your photo on my bedroom wall. So when I met you, I reacted to you like I’d lived my life in the desert and you were the first person to ever offer me water.”

  “Wow. That’s intense,” he said and picked up his fork. “I didn’t pick up on that. Your guard was always up.”