Turn up the Tempo (Lyrical Odyssey Rock Star Series Book 4)

by Charli B. Rose

  At least my fake smile held up all morning. Maybe I should’ve pursued a career in acting. By the time I headed back to the main floor of the club, Brooks was nowhere to be found. Disappointment swallowed me whole.

  Will was waiting for me. I forced a smile as he approached me.

  “You did an amazing job. I’ll have the final cuts back from the director in a couple of days. I’ll be sure to send them to you so you can sign off on them.”

  I’d only agreed to do the video if they didn’t show my face. I didn’t want to scandalize my family by blatantly playing the role of a stripper. “Thanks.” I hitched my bag up higher on my shoulder.

  “I arranged for an Uber to come get you. Should be here in a few minutes,” Will continued.

  “Awesome. I’ll just go wait outside.” I started toward the main entrance.

  Will fell in step with me. “So, you and Brooks, huh?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “He’s a …” I held up my palms, shaking my head. “I don’t know what he is. It’s complicated. Maybe he’s nothing. I don’t know. I can’t think about it right now. I have to go into my meeting with the cruise line with a clear head.”

  ♪ Complicated by Avril Lavigne

  “I understand. Brooks is a fun guy. Never involved in too much scandal. But I keep forgetting you’re only in town temporarily. That doesn’t really lend itself to more than fun in the relationship department.” He pushed the door open for me. “Anyway, good luck with your meeting.”

  “Thanks. I’ll see you later.” As I stepped out into the bright sunshine, my ride pulled into the parking lot.

  The driver eyed me as I got in the backseat. He probably thought I was a stripper. Today I didn’t have it in me to even care. I gave him the address and leaned back against the seat, closing my eyes.

  I strolled into the room where I’d auditioned for a small group yesterday. This time the entire committee was gathered around a big table.

  “Brittany, thanks for coming back today,” Stacia said, excusing herself from the group to come greet me. She quickly introduced everyone who wasn’t here yesterday.

  After a round of handshakes, Stacia started, “After we explained your background to the entire committee and showed them a few clips, they asked to meet with you themselves. They’d like for you to do a few freestyle dances to music of your choosing. And they’ve composed a list of established dances that they know they want to be part of the performance. It’s OK if you don’t know them all, just do the ones you’re familiar with.”

  My head dipped in agreement. “Sounds good.” I moseyed to the front of the room. Chairs scraped against the floor as everyone on the committee moved so they could easily see the open space I planned to utilize.

  I unzipped my jacket and shrugged out of it. Thankfully, I’d dressed in clothes which would allow me to move about without any restrictions. I synced my phone up with the Bluetooth speakers in the room. As the music from my favorite playlist flowed into the quiet space, I absorbed it, letting it enter my body and takeover. It blocked out everything else—Brooks, my confusion, my heartbreak, everything.

  ♪ A Million Dreams by P!nk

  My feet found the rhythm and began to move, erasing everything from my mind except the steps. One song rolled into another. I adjusted, matching the tone and mood of the song.

  After I’d performed four songs, I pressed pause and gulped down some water. My hair clung to my neck. I scraped some off my forehead.

  “Do you need to see any other freestyles?” I asked the group.

  “No, those were wonderful. Now we’ll move on to established dances,” a man on the end said.

  “Can you jitterbug?” a voice called out.

  “I can. It’s a lot of fun. But I need a partner. Are any of you willing?” I teased, looking at the guys clustered around the table.

  A man with a crown of gray got to his feet. “I used to do a mean jitterbug back in my day. Maybe these old feet can still remember the steps.”

  “Jack, don’t throw out your hip,” another man teased.

  I winked at the handsome, older man ambling over to me. “We’ll just do a little bit,” I assured them, taking Jack’s hand in mine.

  ♪ Rock Around the Clock by Bill Haley & his Comets

  Stacia took over the sound system. As soon as the jumping beat started, I began to move. Jack wasn’t quite on time, but for an older man, he moved well.

  Jack guffawed when the music stopped. “I’ve done my cardio for the day,” he announced.

  “The locomotion,” a woman from the other end of the group requested.

  Without responding, I began the classic line dance to the stylings of Little Eva’s classic.

  Stacia quickly switched to “The Hustle” by Van McCoy. I allowed my hips to find the groove and sashayed forward, then back, easily remembering the steps.

  A Spanish beat thumped over the disco music, signaling for me to start the Macarena. I’d always loved the Los Del Rio song.

  “Roger Rabbit,” was the next request.

  And the dance move game of Simon Says continued until I collapsed, sweaty and laughing. I leaned back, propping myself up with my arms. “That was fun,” I said when I caught my breath.

  The committee had been whispering among themselves as I danced. Now they exchanged a look before Jack said, “Brittany, you are quite impressive. And such a joy to watch. You truly love to dance. Yesterday, Stacia and the others recommended you for the lead choreographer position. But a few of us were a little concerned that you hadn’t ever undertaken a position of that magnitude before. That’s why we wanted to meet you in person first.”

  My heart thundered in my chest while I waited for him to continue.

  “I’m sure I speak for everyone here when I say you are definitely cut out for the job. I think the dance numbers will be amazing under your creative vision. So, we’d like to officially offer you the job. You’d start reporting to the ship in three weeks. Of course, you wouldn’t have to move in until the day before we embark. The ship isn’t scheduled to set sail until two weeks after you start. As lead choreographer, your primary duty is to create the routines and teach them. We’d like for you to sail with your dancers for at least a month. This is the proposed salary for the six weeks we require.” He handed me a contract with the salary highlighted.

  Three weeks would give me time to wrap up the projects I’d started with Will. My eyes went wide at the number printed in black and white. I never dreamed I’d be offered so much for a few weeks of work. It would definitely ease the pressure on me. Accepting the job was a no-brainer.

  “After that, we’ll meet and re-evaluate, see if you wish to remain onboard. If you choose to remain for the entire six-month sailing schedule, the number on the second page is the rest of the salary that you’d be paid,” Jack concluded.

  I nodded my head. “Wow. Thanks so much. I’d love to accept your offer.”

  “The potential exists for there to be future opportunities as well if you’re interested after this run,” a lady in a business suit spoke up.

  “Here’s the paperwork we need you to fill out,” Stacia said, handing me a packet. “Bring it with you when you report in three weeks. Make sure you call if you have any questions or concerns.”

  “Thank you all so much for this opportunity,” I said then moved around the group, shaking each person’s hand again.

  “I can’t wait to see what you come up with,” Jack said when I made my way around to him.

  “Me either,” I said with a laugh.

  “Hey, Mom,” I said into the phone as the Uber driver pulled into traffic.

  “Hey, sweetie. You sound extra happy today,” Mom said somewhat cautiously.

  “I just got a job. Well a temporary job. But it could lead to other jobs,” I rambled.

  “So, you didn’t accept the preschool job offer? Because I thought that was a permanent position?” She sounded confused.

  “It’s not that job. This is a job ch
oreographing a show for a cruise line. I was actually just hoping for a job dancing in the show. I never dreamed they’d actually offer me a job creating the entire dance production. It’s a huge opportunity.” I couldn’t keep the excitement from flowing out of me.

  “That’s great, honey. Is it going to pay well enough for you to afford the cost of living out there?” she asked, ever the practical one.

  “Don’t worry, Mom. The contract is very fair. And while I’m on the ship, all my living expenses are covered. So, I’ll actually be able to save my paycheck for when the show’s run is over.”

  “And then you’re coming back home?”

  My fingers fidgeted with my shirt’s hem as I stalled answering her question. I had to rip the band-aid off. “Probably not, Mom. I’ve been doing a few music videos since I’ve been out here. I think I can make a career out of dancing if I stay in California.”

  “Oh …. Wow. That’s great. I’m so happy for you. Bob and I will really miss you around here though.” Her voice warbled a little on the last sentence.

  Tears pricked my eyes a little. “I know. But—”

  “You don’t have to explain. Dancing has always been your dream, your passion. You’re great at it. Honestly, I just never imagined you’d be able to have it be more than a hobby. I’m really happy for you. And now, I guess Bob and I have a reason to visit California more.”

  “Absolutely. But wait until I get back from the cruise job before you plan a vacation.”

  After we talked for a few more minutes about nothing important, we said our goodbyes right as the driver stopped in front of Dawson and Izzy’s front gate.

  I was practically floating when I unlocked the door to Dawson and Izzy’s house. My feet didn’t touch the ground until I heard music coming from the open basement door.

  Hastily, I released Lyric from her crate and sent her out into the yard. Unbidden, my steps carried me to the threshold of the stairs leading to the studio down below. When I leaned against the doorframe, I listened. It wasn’t just guitar notes being carried up the stairs to me. Words accompanied the melody. A single voice, singing.

  ♪ Your Guardian Angel by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus

  It was Brooks. Though I hadn’t ever heard him sing except that one soft ballad over the phone to the woman named Misty, I knew instinctively it was him. Sorrow and regret gave his tone an edge, a grit that scraped my heart raw. He sang of mistakes and missed opportunities.

  Earlier, a part of me didn’t want to see him. Now the pain in his voice, which mirrored that in my heart, couldn’t be ignored. I had to go to him.

  I drifted down the stairs, softly, not wanting to interrupt.

  Chapter 32

  Brooks

  ♪ Still Falling for You by Elle Goulding

  I sensed her presence long before she was visible. It was like my body was somehow attuned to hers. I didn’t have an explanation for it. Dawson would’ve teased me, saying it was the red thread of fate. I’d never believed in such things.

  Now I wasn’t so sure.

  As she slowly descended the stairs, I continued to play. The song was coming to me too fast and easily for me to risk losing it. When she reached the bottom of the steps, I lifted my head, meeting her gaze. My fingers continued to pluck the strings, drawing out the melody to match the lyrics carved in the soft tissue of my heart.

  Brittany kept her distance, but she at least stayed. I had to be thankful for small blessings at this point.

  When I’d finally extracted every bit of song from my soul that was ready to be planted, I let the sounds fade to silence. I set the guitar to the side.

  Brittany’s throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. I sucked in a lung full of air then blew it out in a slow, cleansing manner.

  “I know you didn’t want to talk earlier. But can I have a few minutes of your time? After

  I’ve explained, I promise if you want me to go, then I’ll never bother you again.” My heart cracked at the thought of never talking to her again. Never seeing her. Never holding her. It wasn’t something I’d be able to accept easily. But if it was what she truly wanted, then I’d have to respect her wishes.

  “OK,” she whispered.

  I didn’t want to explain with her all the way across the room, so I patted the couch cushion next to me, praying she’d close the distance between us.

  With slow steps, she ambled over to me and sank to the edge of the couch. But she looked ready to bolt at any moment.

  Here goes.

  I fidgeted with my hands in my lap, not brave enough to meet her gaze. “I know you saw Glamour Queen. I need you to know that footage was shot over a year ago. Months before you and I even met. We hadn’t long gotten home from three years on the road. We were trying to find our way back to being in our normal lives, plus making some huge career changes. Giselle was someone who always understood the score and never made any demands of me. It was easy. I needed easy when we got back. Back then, I didn’t care what image I portrayed to the world. It didn’t matter that what her crew filmed would wind up on TV or that viewers would judge me.”

  I finally lifted my head to see what her face would say. I couldn’t read her. Not beyond the sadness in those stormy blue eyes.

  “I’m not that man anymore. I’ve changed,” I whispered with as much conviction as I could muster.

  Her face was a mixture of skepticism and hope. “What changed and when?” she murmured, her voice barely audible even in the stillness of the studio.

  It was time to lay it all on the line and be honest with her in a way I’d never been honest with another soul before. “Meeting you changed me. I don’t know why it did. But from the instant Dawson said, ‘Brooks, this is Brittany,’ something shifted imperceptibly in me. I didn’t realize it was something major at the time. All I knew was that I was drawn to you. To your personality, your smile, your laugh. And then when I found out you approached sex and relationships with the same mindset as I did, you were like a gift meant for me.”

  ♪ When I Look into Your Eyes by Firehouse

  She frowned slightly at that, so I hastened to add, “My view on relationships is another thing that’s changed because of you. Once I kissed you that first time, I was a goner. A single kiss let you invade every part of me. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw your smile, your face wracked with pleasure or relaxed in sleep. I replayed your laugh and your moans. I tried to remember every nuance of your flavor from head to toe. Initially, I didn’t understand why I’d become so obsessed with you after one night. It really pissed me off. And I admit, I tried to dig out all those bits of you that were embedded in me. I tried drinking more, hooking up more—nothing worked.”

  “How do you know you’re truly changed? That you’re really ready to be in a relationship? Every time you and I take a step forward, you retreat two steps back … or ten. You disappear. Trust isn’t something I give easily.” Her lips were downturned, and it seemed as if she truly was heart stricken to have to doubt me. She needed assurances, so I had to give them to her.

  I reached for her hand, which was limp in her lap. I laced our fingers together, then turned my knees in her direction until they bumped hers. My nerves were high, making everything inside me buzz with a subtle charge of electricity. I was about to lay it all on the line, and I was terrified.

  “I know that I’m different now because …” My mouth ran dry. I swallowed a couple of times, trying to work up enough saliva to release the words trapped inside. “Because I love you, angel. And though it scares the shit out of me because I’ve never been in love before, I’m ready to be all in with you.”

  Instead of joy lighting up her face, pain darkened her features. “If you’ve never been in love before, then why did you say it to Giselle?” she whispered, her voice cracking.

  My mouth dropped open. I was dumbfounded. I’d never used the L-word before, not even in jest or to get laid. Never even in a sentence like I love your smile or I love your tits. I knew I’d definitely never even let
the word come close to Giselle. “What are you talking about? I might have had a little to drink when I went out with her in that footage, but I know I most definitely didn’t say the word love at all.”

  Britt tried to tug her hand from mine, but I couldn’t let her sever that connection yet. Not when my chest was flayed open with my heart exposed.

  “It wasn’t from the show.” Her face turned deep red, and she stared down at our joined hands rather than meet my stare. “I heard you on the phone with her,” she whispered, sounding embarrassed to be saying it.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d talked to Giselle on the phone. And all our phone conversations had been short in the past, containing only the bare minimum of details of when and where we’d meet up.

  Britt continued, “I heard you on several phone calls. And I accidently saw some declarations of love in your text messages with a different woman.”

  “What woman?” I asked, trying to make sense of everything she was accusing me of.

  “The ones you have special ringtones for. I mean, you don’t even have a special ring for Dawson, and he’s your best friend. You don’t have a special ring for me. And while I’m at it, why were you singing a love song to some woman named Misty?” She was on a roll, firing off missiles at me that I hadn’t the proper sense to dodge.

  A relieved laugh escaped with all the pent-up anxiety I’d been holding in since I’d told her how I felt.

  Brittany got to her feet, ready to storm off in a huff of fury.

  I pulled her back down. “Don’t go. I think I know who you’re talking about. The Elle you’ve heard me talking and texting with is my sister, Brielle. I call her Elle to get on her nerves. When she was born, I couldn’t say Brielle, so I called her Elle. She loved it until she became a teenager and insisted I call her Bri. But I’m her big brother … it’s my job to annoy her. I have never called Giselle by the name Elle. Only Wilder does.”