Kitty Valentine Dates a Rock Star

by Dodd, Jillian

  I’m a professional writer. I know the power of a few complimentary reviews. My fingers are crossed so hard for him, they hurt.

  “This is a huge deal. If he can get music writers to review his performances, people might start looking at him as more than just some guy who used to be famous.”

  “Well, he sounded fantastic.” I swear, the girl is ready to swoon. It’s a shame I didn’t bring smelling salts. “I didn’t know he had such a beautiful voice.”

  “Even after listening to him so many times?”

  “As a grown-up, I mean. It’s not easy for a teenage singer to maintain their voice into adulthood.”

  “I didn’t know you were such an expert.” I nudge her with one elbow, grinning. “Did you do a little research last week and not tell me about it? When we were getting ready to see him on Friday, maybe you looked up other former teen superstars to see how they turned out later on?”

  She groans softly, giving me a death look. “Can you not make me sound like such a loser?”

  “I’m not. If you think you sound like a loser, maybe it’s because you actually are one.” I have to duck when she throws a balled-up napkin at me.

  “I wanted to prepare myself for possible disappointment. Is that so wrong?”

  “No. In fact, I’d have been surprised if you hadn’t done that.”

  Hayley is very much the sort of person who memorizes a restaurant menu long before visiting and then cross-references each dish against recent reviews, so she’ll know exactly what’s worth trying. I can always count on her for recommendations based on the research she’s already done.

  Besides, it’s not like I didn’t do exactly what I just described, looking up old singers and seeing whether they managed to sound as good years after the fact. Spoiler: many did not.

  Dustin turns away from the writer after shaking his hand.

  “Here he comes,” I whisper, and I have to hide a laugh behind my hand when she suddenly sits up a lot straighter, wiping her hands on her thighs the way I did to get rid of the nervous sweat.

  When he gets closer to us, I can see the concern etched on his face. It’s in the lines on his forehead, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. His slightly downturned mouth. But it might all be in my head because, in an instant, all that melts away, and he’s smiling wide as Hayley somehow manages to find her feet.

  “It’s such an honor to meet you.” Her smile is huge enough that I can almost see her back teeth. When he touches her hand, she giggles in a way I’ve never heard before from her.

  Oh, I really wish I were recording this. I would love to play it back for her every time she acts all cool after I’ve made a fool of myself.

  “Any friend of Kitty’s.” He smiles. “How did you like the show?”

  “Oh, we loved it!” she gushes. “It was so nice of you to have me here tonight. I was devastated at not being able to see you on Friday.”

  “You can thank your friend for that.” He winks at her before turning to me. “She was in a hurry to get here, but she still thought of you.”

  “What can I say? I’m a saint.”

  I also might just as well not be here because Hayley has eyes for nobody but him.

  “I just, you know, I think it’s really brave of you to get up there and perform. It’s brave of anybody to do it but especially somebody from your background.”

  Brave? Okay, now, she’s straight-up stealing from me. The nerve!

  “Brave? How so?” he asks, looking from Hayley to me with his brows lifted.

  I don’t think she understands how insulting her observation might seem.

  Which is why I clear my throat and step in for her—though honestly, I should let her stew for a little while since she totally parroted what I said earlier and she deserves it, the dork. “You’re going into this, knowing people expect you to be a certain way and knowing you can’t be that way, but you’re still gracious and smiling and willing to perform something special for them. No performer knows how their work is going to be received, but you’re brave enough to go out there and share part of yourself with people who might or might not even deserve to have you share with them in such a profound way.”

  “Yes,” Hayley agrees, her head bobbing up and down. “What she said.”

  He chuckles a little, glancing at me before turning his gaze to Hayley. “That’s a really beautiful observation. Thank you.”

  Even in the room’s dim lighting, it’s clear she’s blushing to the roots of her hair.

  “I’m just really impressed with you,” she babbles. “And I’m sure you’ll be back on top in no time.”

  Is this what I sound like when my mouth runs away from me and I’m not making sense anymore? I elbow her as gently as I can and hope she takes the hint. It’s like she completely forgot how to behave in public.

  “Did you want to go back to your dressing room and freshen up or something?” I offer since somebody has to stop the bleeding and it might as well be me.

  Dustin nods, eyes widening. Like he’s relieved I changed the subject. “Yeah, let me do that. Hayley, it was a real pleasure meeting you. Thank you for coming out last minute like this and then waiting around to talk with me.”

  “It’s been such a thrill. You don’t have to thank me. I should be the one thanking you!”

  “Okay,” I murmur through clenched teeth.

  She finally takes the hint and stands down, clamping her mouth shut until I can hardly see her lips anymore. Dustin pats her on the shoulder before moving past us and through a narrow door leading backstage.

  Hayley promptly slumps against the table the second he’s away from us. “Oh my God. Did I just make the biggest fool of myself or what?”

  “Do I have to answer that question?”

  “I think I blacked out for a second there. Did I actually say he was brave? Why did I say that?”

  “Because I said it earlier, remember? You totally stole that from me.”

  “Ugh. He thinks I’m a loser.” She stares at the door Dustin just walked through. “I can tell.”

  “Probably.”

  Her head snaps around. “Why didn’t you stop me?”

  “I tried! And it worked, right? You would still be talking right now if I hadn’t stopped you.”

  “Could you not remind me? Damn it, I’m such an idiot.”

  “Who cares what he thinks?”

  She shoots me a look.

  “Besides, I’m sure he doesn’t think that,” I add. “He’s been down-to-earth with me. And he’s been dealing with people falling all over him for years. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Easy for you to say. You’re the one he wants to go out with later.”

  I hook a finger under her chin, tilting her face in my direction. “Are you pouting?”

  “No.”

  “You are!” I don’t even know what to think about this. It seems so completely outside the norm.

  She shrugs, chewing her lip. “It’s not easy, meeting somebody you had a crush on for so long and feeling like you’re just another tongue-tied fan.”

  I feel so sorry for her; I have to give her a hug. “It’s okay. Really. I’m sure he remembers you the way everybody you ever meet remembers you. As being beautiful and put together and dazzling.”

  “You’re just saying that.”

  I have to laugh. “I’ve been standing on the outside for years, sweetie. I’ve had the enjoyment of watching how people react to you—men especially. You have an effect on them; you always have. So, for once, you got a little tongue-tied. It was bound to happen someday, right?”

  “Just do me a favor,” she begs. She even folds her hands like she’s praying. “If he says anything about me, be nice.”

  “Why wouldn’t I? Gosh, are you okay?” I have to reach out and touch her forehead, just in case she actually is sick. I wondered for a minute, but now, I’m truly concerned.

  The girl could take out her phone right now and call up at least ten men who would gladly part wit
h a vital organ for the opportunity to spend time alone with her, but she’s losing her mind over this silly situation.

  “I’m fine. Sorry. It’s like I’m fourteen all over again and I haven’t gotten my braces off yet and my skin is all spotty.” She even pats her cheeks like she’s afraid pimples popped out in the last few minutes.

  “He tends to do that to people,” I murmur. “Believe me, I can relate.”

  “I’d better get out of here before I do anything else I’ll never stop kicking myself over.” She pulls on her jacket, shaking her head and muttering to herself. “One opportunity to meet somebody, and I go and act like today’s my first day out in public. Ever.”

  Boy, for all these years, I’ve wondered if there was anybody or any situation that could possibly knock her off her game. She’s always so on top of things, always in control. The girl barely breaks a sweat in the middle of a heat wave; she’s so cool.

  All it took was meeting someone who’d meant a lot to her back when she had acne and braces. I guess when push comes to shove, most of us are still those kids, hiding behind makeup and degrees and job titles. Certain situations put us all on the same level. Meeting a childhood hero is one of those situations.

  I really need to write about this in my book.

  I’m taking notes on my phone when Dustin emerges, and I look up with a smile when I hear him walking my way. It seemed like he was in a pretty good mood when we were chatting, so I guess things went well with the writer. What does he have in mind now? Being in a good mood, after a successful show, I can just imagine what he might want to do to keep the good times rolling.

  Only he’s frowning again, just the way I thought he was when I first saw him a few minutes ago. And this time, there’s no Hayley around for him to perform for. There’s just me, and he clearly feels comfortable enough with me now to let the truth slip out.

  “That was one of the worst performances I’ve ever given, and all I want now is a stiff drink.” He’s already on his way past me, out the door to the street, by the time my feet catch up with my brain and I hurry behind him.

  So much for letting the good times roll.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “I know how out of touch this is going to sound.” I lean in across the table, pushing aside two empty glasses. His glasses which once contained whiskey. He’s on his third already, and I don’t think we’ve been at this bar for more than twenty minutes.

  He’s good and determined to drink himself into a stupor tonight.

  And here I am, feeling like maybe I should’ve gone home. He’s not in any mood for company even though he’s insisted that he wants to be with me.

  He looks at me finally, having stared down into his glass ever since our server left it for him. Poor thing. It was pretty obvious she wanted to catch his eye, to flirt a little, but he’s not in the mood.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand why you think tonight was such a bad performance.”

  He rolls his eyes.

  “I really don’t,” I add. “You sounded great to me! The audience was thrilled to pieces. They had nothing but good things to say afterward.”

  “Were we at the same club? Because from where I sat, the audience had zero energy. One of them straight-up walked out, Kitty.”

  “So what? It was just one person, and she was being a total bitch about it. And let me tell you, I never use that word, but I think she qualifies. I hope she’s embarrassed by how rude she was.”

  “You’re really too much.” He snorts. “You live in this world where people are actually nice to each other. Where they respect each other.”

  “Excuse me, but that is the world I live in. Where people are supposed to respect each other. Some people are going to be jerks. It is what it is. I stopped reading my reviews a long time ago because I knew they would never do me any good. They would only make me question myself. Believe me, I know how nasty people can be. But that doesn’t mean all people are like that, and it doesn’t mean your entire performance was a waste because one person was an idiot.”

  “Unless you’ve been walked out on, you don’t know what I’m talking about.” He swirls the whiskey in his glass, snickering. “Trust me, that writer was paying attention. He’ll write about that part.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure they were paying attention to how that situation reflected a lot more on the person who did the walking out than it did on you. You didn’t even let it faze you. It wasn’t your fault! And it doesn’t erase all the people who were clapping and cheering for you by the time the night was over.”

  “You’d be surprised what some people remember. That writer’s going to remember that, and he’s going to mention it in his article. I just know he will. Another example of how I’ll never escape the past.”

  I probably shouldn’t say this. It’s not what he wants to hear right now. At the same time, I’m not sitting here at yet another bar just so I can bolster his spirits. I would do that for Hayley. I might even do it for Matt since he’s come through for me more than once.

  But Dustin? Aside from some hot making out and the inspiration for my current project, he hasn’t given me anything yet that could make up for this.

  “I know we don’t know each other very well, and I know that until I met you on Friday, I was just another fan. But I feel like somebody has to tell you this.”

  “I can hardly wait.”

  Oh, now, he’s really going to get it.

  “If it wasn’t for the past, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yeah, it is. You might want to say good-bye to it, you might want to pretend it didn’t happen, and I completely understand and respect that. But it’s disingenuous to pretend you don’t benefit from people recognizing your name. Because if you were just some guy with some random name nobody had ever heard of, do you think that filthy club would’ve been packed tonight?”

  “Please. That was nothing. I could hand some flyers around the neighborhood and get that many people to come and see me play.”

  “You really think so? I guess we’ll never know, will we? Because the past did happen, and you were an international superstar. And you still have enough name recognition to get gigs like the one you had tonight and for music writers to come out and see you play.”

  “One.” He holds up a single finger. “Todd reached out to half a dozen, and only one showed up. He actually seemed shocked when he said I sounded good. Like he hadn’t expected me to.”

  “Where is this Todd anyway? It seems like your agent would be at your performances, especially when they’re supposed to be so important to you. Tonight was supposed to be a big deal, so why wasn’t he there?”

  “I’m not his only client. Not all of us can get a big deal right out of the gate and earn our agents a lot of money. He’s gotta hustle, just like everybody else.” He downs his drink and wipes the back of his hand across his mouth while I tell myself that little comment about a big deal wasn’t about me—even though I think it was. “I don’t even command the entire attention of a manager anymore.”

  This isn’t what I came out for at the last minute on a Monday night. To think, I figured tonight would be exciting and adventurous. Instead, I’ve been sitting here, watching him throw a pity party. I’ve thrown enough of those for myself to know he’s not about to listen to anything I have to say, any more than I do when Hayley tries to cheer me up.

  Which is why I stand up and grab my purse. “If you’re going to be this way, I’m going home. I was having a perfectly fine evening before this happened. I’m not going to sit here and let you take your frustration out on me. That’s not what I’m here for.”

  I’m halfway to the door before he gets up to stop me. “Kitty, I’m sorry.”

  “I really don’t want to hear it right now.” I’m so furious and so disgusted that I don’t care what he has to say.

  The night air is cool on my heated cheeks, and I’m thankful for it. It clears my head a little.r />
  Dustin catches up to me halfway down the block. It’s amazing he can move as quickly as he does after downing three drinks like they were nothing more than water. “Please, Kitty, I’m sorry. I screwed up.”

  “Yeah, you did.” I turn on him, and there must be something in my face that convinces him how serious I am because he falls back a few steps, like he’s surprised. “I’m not one of those people who’s going to take whatever you dish out just because you are who you are. You know what I mean? I thought you would know better than that by now. I’m not going to sit by and nod and say, Yes, Dustin. No, Dustin. Because I don’t want anything out of you. I thought we were supposed to be getting together for a good time tonight, but here we are. Do you want to be with me right now or not?”

  “I do.”

  “You’re not acting like it.”

  He folds his hands behind his back, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out. “You’re right again. I keep doing all the wrong things. I’m so used to things going a certain way. I can be just as moody and depressing and ignorant as I feel like being, and it doesn’t matter because the girl I’m with will put up with anything just as long as she can take a few selfies with me and get a free meal or drinks or a night in my hotel room out of it.”

  I can’t help it. My skin crawls a little bit at the hotel room part. Just how many of these women have there been? Not that it’s any of my business. It’s just research; that’s all.

  Yeah, right. That’s the ticket. Research.

  “I’m not one of those girls!” Okay, maybe that shouldn’t have come out so loud. Crap. I hope the people on the other side of the street who have stopped to look don’t recognize him. I don’t want to be the girl yelling at a onetime international superstar in the middle of the street.

  “I know. And the fact that you’re still standing here, talking to me, is more than I deserve.” He runs his fingers through his hair until it stands almost straight up and then lets out a frustrated growl. “This is what always ends up happening. I meet somebody worthwhile, somebody like you, and I think, Great. Finally, a real person. Somebody with, you know, an actual personality and actual interests. Not to mention, you’re smart and successful. You’re, like, perfect.”