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

by Victoria Pinder

  It still was. We both ate. I finished quickly as I wasn’t eating the fries or the bread.

  In that meeting with the producers, I’d signed an agreement to stick to a strict diet. And I refused to let the cameras catch me cheating. Maybe after the show ended I’d eat carbs again.

  I put my fork and knife down and said, “But that was only the beginning.”

  He finished eating and said, “What else, then?”

  My entire body had a thrill of desire rushing through my veins now. The heat of my anger had dissipated. I told him the absolute truth. “Well, after getting to know you, I see you’re kind, smart, and, honestly, you should be one of the judges, not one of us. But that doesn’t forgive what happened tonight.”

  His blush was cute as it amplified those dimples of his. He said, “We’ll find out what happened, and I swear I won’t profit off you.”

  I didn’t know if I believed him. His lifestyle was high end and nothing like mine. So his cost serious cash. Sure, he’d been a child star on TV, and then briefly in one of the most successful bands on the planet, until he’d been kicked out. But he still lived in a mansion and made money writing music.

  I should hate him. He was seriously overqualified compared to the rest of us on this eight-week show. I waited as the waitress took our plates away and he motioned for the check. Once we were alone again I said, “Maybe. But every contestant on the stage is better because you’re helping us all and not treating it like a competition, like you should be.”

  “Can I be honest about why?”

  “Absolutely,” I said, and stilled as I waited for the news.

  He gave me an intense stare that made my hair stand on end, while he said, “I want to win, but I can’t destroy more careers.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  He stared into his glass as he said, “My old band mates still have me helping with compositions. Music has always been in my veins and it’s a small way of giving back to my muse.”

  “There’s more to it than that. Way more.” I ran my hand through his slightly too-long hair, though I knew I shouldn’t touch him. It threw me off course. I said, “You’re re-rendering every genre. Most people are only skilled in one area, but you make the most obscure songs relevant again.”

  His thumb stroked my cheek and he said, “Rewriting your songs is fun. You’re an angel.”

  This didn’t answer the question about why we were here, and what he was holding back. My lips parted and I tilted my head while he added, “An angel who doesn’t want to get in trouble. Let’s get going.”

  I wasn’t an angel. I was here to be a star and get my own concert tour. I closed my eyes, and let the tingles rush through me, betraying my singing dreams.

  “One second,” he said.

  “Mmhmm,” I said quickly, and then his lips met mine.

  And the intensity inside me made me forget who I was, where I was, or anything else. He still hadn’t told me anything. What had happened to get him kicked out of the band, or what caused him to help everyone on the stage. And I wasn’t sure I could believe him when he said that he’d not use me. He had been using me all along, right?

  But in that second, I was in heaven itself and never wanted this to end.

  Somehow we made it out of the restaurant. The specifics were hazy. I remember holding his hand and feeling like I was on a different level of existence at the same time.

  Kissing him sent warm trembles through me.

  How was I channeling so much energy from a few sweet kisses?

  Yet we made it into the limo and back to the hotel reception in time.

  My lips still held his savory-sweet taste.

  Part of me wanted to forget everything and just be alone with him all night.

  I’d imagined discovering the joy of being with a guy, and it had been his face I saw most of the time.

  I was happy to find I could trust him a little, at least, as he kept his promise to get us back to the reception.

  We slipped back inside and I fixed my hair that had fallen out of its upswept style.

  Jane found us, looking chic in her purple leather jacket and black catsuit that framed her perfect figure. She locked arms with us and said, “So, you two were missing for a while.”

  I crashed back into reality fast and stumbled over my words when I tried to defend us. “We … we were …”

  “Kissing,” Jane said and stared at me like it was obvious. She then called out loudly for the crowd, “I found the lovebirds for the cast photo.”

  Oh no. They’d been looking for me? This was how I failed.

  I wasn’t here when I was wanted.

  And tonight, I should be furious for being used. My parents had probably heard the song on the radio.

  We walked where Jane directed us, and the seven remaining contestants all posed for a group photo with the three judges.

  When it was done, the host zoomed in on us with his camera crew that followed him everywhere. He shoved the microphone in Phoenix’s face and asked, “Are you two spending your day off together after the next elimination round?”

  Phoenix had been right, then. Our relationship made good TV. The fans would want to know us. I held my stomach to stop the butterflies as I asked, “With the cameras following us?”

  He turned toward me and stared at me like I didn’t matter. “That’s the deal,” he said. “Anywhere you go, we get to go.”

  Phoenix quickly captured the camera’s attention. He knew how to talk with lights in his eyes. He said, “I’ll probably just go home and order pizza for the crew while I watch TV.”

  The host turned his back on me and asked, “That’s your plan?”

  A coldness washed through me. I refused to be ignored. This wasn’t who I was. I was here to win. I lifted my chin and said, “If Phoenix wants to spend time with me, he still has some unanswered questions to answer.”

  “I’ll do whatever you want.” He grinned and showed those dazzling teeth.

  I had the cameras now, but fake flirting was horrible. Eventually the cameras moved on to Jane. I patted Phoenix’s back and said, “Okay, but I still want to know about your parents.”

  “I’ve been warned,” he nodded.

  I raised my eyebrows and asked quietly, so no one else heard me, “And you’re okay with answering, knowing you can’t kiss me to distraction?”

  He didn’t even blink but placed his hand on my lower back like he needed to keep me close, as he said, “It’s fine. I separated from my parents long ago.”

  The world knew that, but details were scarce. And maybe that had something to do with why he was helping the rest of us when he shouldn’t.

  I said, “I’m going to want details, and I’m used to hearing full confessions.”

  “Really?”

  I smiled and nodded. “My dad is a minister and talks a lot about family.”

  He laughed and said, like he had nothing to hide, “The show is going to have a field day with that one, then. Ratings will be high.”

  I hoped he was right and the story about his parents was no big deal to repeat to the world. But something had happened to him that I didn’t know.

  Next time we were alone, I’d ask him again about why he was kicked out of his band. And if Mark was really on the level. But for now, I saw a different side of myself and Phoenix; one I wasn’t sure I could trust.

  Tomorrow was soon enough. Maybe then I’d find out for certain that the guy who kissed me like this wasn’t betraying me and using me to further his career. I wanted to believe that. I wanted to believe in him.

  9

  Phoenix

  A televised date of sorts wasn’t something I’d ever thought about doing. Maggie spurred too much emotion in me and I wasn’t sure how to pretend that wasn’t true. So my shoulders were tense.

  If I insulted her, I hurt my chances but helped hers. The audience would side with her as the young innocent girl she was.

  If I showed interest in her, I helped my o
wn chances on the show but hurt hers. The audience could only empathize with one of us.

  I wanted my comeback, but not by hurting other singers with anything but my voice.

  I had no answer, but I straightened my tie and checked that my suit was good in the dorm mirror, saluted the camera crew and pointed toward the door.

  In the staff area, I saw Maggie, a vision in a white dress with yellow flowers embroidered along the flared hem.

  She’d be America’s sweetheart.

  Every time I held Maggie’s hand, I felt peaceful. My last girlfriend had never stayed at my house overnight because I hadn’t wanted to see her first thing in the morning. And Maggie wasn’t even my girlfriend, but I knew her soft smile would be even sweeter in the morning, without a spot of makeup.

  For now, we walked together in silence to the golf cart that took us to the lunch place the studio had set up for us.

  My desire for her was growing, and that was bad.

  What the fuck did I say when we finally sat down and the cameras zoomed in on our faces?

  We arrived at the restaurant and headed into the dining room that was half-filled with cameras. They made the place look shiny and fake from outside.

  Maggie must have been nervous because she couldn’t stand still as we waited to be shown to the table, surrounded by a camera crew. I fixed my tie again as she said, “I can’t believe Wyatt is out.”

  The show. Yes.

  “He was a nice guy. He knew my young cousin in Pittsburgh.”

  “Yeah?” she said. Her entire body was tense.

  She needed to get used to being comfortable on TV if her dream included performing. And I wanted to help her, despite wanting to win myself. So I smiled at the camera and said, “Next week we air again, so it’s better to just focus on enjoying every moment we can while we have time off.”

  She pressed her side closer to me and sparks rushed through me.

  “It’s hard to do that when I’m so nervous,” she said. “I’m not sure I want cameras watching me bite down on chicken.”

  Or showing her with me.

  She was in a tough spot. I kept that to myself and nodded as we stared at the door and waited for the host to signal we could relax.

  I said, “The show wants to show a softer side to the remaining six before they cut two more people.”

  “Yeah?” she said, but didn’t sound convinced. “I thought they were just trying to set us up.”

  “That too.”

  Her eyebrows raised and she curled closer to me, letting me smell her light floral perfume.

  She said, “So you didn’t ask them for this to fix up your bad boy image?”

  “No, definitely not.”

  The host came out and gave us a thumbs up. I ignored how my stomach had little knots growing inside it and headed in, with Maggie beside me.

  As we neared the table, Maggie’s face whitened and she slowed down.

  I waited beside her and stared at the older couple sitting there. I had a quick memory of the first time I walked into the hall and saw her hug them. They must be her parents. I offered my hand to shake immediately and spoke faster than normal, “Mr. and Mrs. Carrigan, nice to meet you.”

  The man patted the back of my hand as he shook it and I relaxed. He was clearly confident when he said, “Phoenix, please call me Paul and my wife Effie.”

  Good names. I held Maggie’s chair and waited for her to sit. Once she was seated, I said, “Thanks for letting me crash the family lunch.”

  At least it wasn’t my parents. But then, I hadn’t seen them in years.

  The waiter brought a plate of rolls, handed out the menus and left. I folded my napkin on my lap as her mother, Effie, said, “You’re kissing our daughter on television. Is it just for the cameras?”

  “I hope not.” I froze and stared at my water glass like it had the answers for today’s show. “I don’t know what happens next with Maggie and me.”

  Her father asked, “What do you mean by that? Does this end when the cameras go off?”

  First, if I said no, the cameras knew I liked her. And second, if I said yes, the viewers at home now hated me. And third, I already hated myself for having these thoughts. I didn’t intend to betray my vow to never hurt another singer. My nerves raced like there was something about to happen.

  I said, “I’m not sure what Maggie wants with me, once the show ends. So she decides.”

  Maggie said, “What I want?”

  Just then the waitress came over. Her blonde ponytail was like a hazy memory, but I focused on Maggie.

  “Yes, you make that choice,” I said. And I absolutely didn’t mean the food options.

  I ordered a chicken that was probably rubber and Maggie chose the non-carb chicken plate. And then it hit me.

  The waitress was my ex. Samantha.

  My skin electrified. She was the second surprise. Who knew what was next?

  Once the waitress left, Maggie said, “Well, I’m hoping we can find out what it’s like to hang out, away from the cameras and the studio.”

  Samantha’s scoffing sound and the flare of her nostrils caught my attention. Tension rocketed through me as she put her hand on her hip.

  Guess she was a better actress than I remembered. We hadn’t been together long enough for her to be jealous of Maggie, but I thought she was an opening act to more. I ignored how the hair on my skin stood on end and said, “That sounds good.”

  Her mother said, “So Phoenix, you grew up on TV and away from a normal family life …”

  Samantha came back and met my gaze as she served the Carrigans their meals.

  My only normal times were summers in the normal Steel family house in Pittsburgh. When we were kids, sometimes all twenty of us cousins stayed in the big house at the same time, so it wasn’t much different from having handlers on a TV show.

  Once the waitress left, I focused on Maggie’s kind face again.

  She was inspiration wrapped up in a perfect package I’d want for Christmas. But I concentrated on the question.

  My parents. The last I’d seen my father, he’d been drinking heavily. That was before I moved out of our home and my lawyer gave them notice to vacate. I’d sold that house years ago. I folded my hands in front of me and told Maggie’s mom, Effie, “I flashed to a memory of staying with my cousins for a minute. That’s where I was when I wasn’t on TV.”

  Maggie’s wide eyed expression was full of sympathy.

  She knew I had kept my family life private after the very public act of leaving my parents. But now it was out there. I let out a long breath and said, “My family in Pittsburgh took me in for a few months of the year.”

  Neither of us said anything. Maggie had my complete attention, until her mother broke the silence when she asked, “That had to be hard—to live on TV and be filmed waking up, going about your day, and sleeping.”

  “I didn’t know better,” I answered quickly. “I know now though. I have gone for the past few years without any cameras in my life, and I’ve had to face what real life is like.”

  Her father asked me, like he was in prayer, “And what have you learned?”

  Never trust the show’s host for my chance at a comeback. But that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. So I lowered my head and spoke from my heart and hoped no one would say anything negative as I answered, “That the blessings in my life matter more than the bad things, and I need to be thankful.”

  Paul folded his hands on the table and said, “Now that’s something to drink to.”

  I met his gaze and sat straighter when I said, “I don’t drink, sir.”

  In his black suit he seemed like someone people told the truth to. There was something about his face that reminded me of Maggie, and it wasn’t just her kind blue eyes, when he asked, “Any particular reason?”

  No lies, even if part of me I wanted to. I pushed my plate away and folded my hands in front of me as I said, “I’m in rehab. I learned when I was eighteen how alcohol could destroy my
life, and decided to go into rehab.”

  Her mother brushed against her father and then asked with a smile on her face, “How is that going?”

  Maggie’s face was red, but she didn’t need to argue. I wasn’t the perfect match for their daughter.

  The crash and how stupid I’d been replayed in living color in my mind. The girl beside me, Fiona—she’d almost died because I hadn’t called the police. Mark saved her that day with his quick thinking after I called him. My agent smoothed everything over for me.

  But all I said was, “I’ve not had a drink since the day I was kicked out of my band, and I plan to remain alcohol-free for the rest of my life.”

  Her father asked, “Did you find God?”

  “Dad, lay off,” Maggie said. “It’s gone too far now.”

  I swallowed and let my shoulders drop. There was the minister in him. And this wasn’t the worst shock and awe I could imagine. While I wasn’t a regular, I’d visited church, and I liked going.

  I said, “I’ve gone to services.”

  Maggie squeezed my thigh under the table, as her mother said, “That’s good. I’m happy to hear that.”

  “And we’re done asking my friend Phoenix any more questions,” Maggie said.

  Her father cut into his food and I did the same. The silence tasted like the rubber chicken. But then the host pointed at her father. My gut twisted as Paul asked, “Well, what about your parents? What are they like?”

  The tension in my shoulders grew. The show would go to the burning question of years ago, digging for details not shared publicly.

  Ratings.

  My mother had been high all the time and my father drunk. I finished cutting all my food as I said, “I emancipated myself when I was fourteen.”

  “You what?” her mother asked, like my words were in a foreign language to her.

  This wasn’t news. Except maybe to them.

  Maggie’s chin was locked in place and she seemed like a silent sentinel about to strike.

  I patted her hand. This wasn’t her past. I met her mother’s stare and ignored how my skin buzzed. I accepted that this was the surprise element of today and I explained, “I emancipated myself, as they were living off my money. Once I took control of my check book, I’ve not seen them since. When I wasn’t filming, I lived with my cousins, aunt and uncle in Pittsburgh. They also cut off communication with my parents and took legal custody of me.”