Trouble: Rob & Sabrina: Boxed Set

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Trouble: Rob & Sabrina: Boxed Set Page 32

by Selena Kitt

Arnie clicked his mouse, bringing his computer to life. He typed something on the keyboard, moved the mouse around some more, frowning the whole while, making me wonder if he ever smiled.

  “Listen,” Rob insisted, standing behind him now, pointing to the screen.

  “I’m not sure… how…” Arnie fiddled with something on the side of the screen. “Hang on.”

  He picked up the phone and pushed a button, talking to his secretary, telling her to come into the office. Dusty had a way of walking that could have stopped a whole room of dogs from fighting over a bone. Even Rob glanced up as she approached.

  “Hey, Dusty, how do I turn the speakers on again?” Arnie leaned back as the secretary bent over his computer keyboard, giving Voss a good look down into her cleavage. I saw him looking and shook my head, smiling. Then my voice came through the speakers on the computer monitor and I startled, feeling my cheeks flush in surprise. It was still a strange experience, listening to my own recorded voice.

  They were all staring at me and I sank into the chair beside Voss, feeling heavy with the weight of my own embarrassment at all the sudden attention. It was one of Trouble’s songs, an old one from their first album, the song they closed every show with now, called Loaded for Love. It had an impressive range, which was why Rob chose it, and a blues edge, which I knew Jimmy would love and was keenly suited for my voice.

  You done done me wrong, you and that bad man, for too long,

  And I’m gonna get my gun, gonna get evil all night long,

  Gonna get my gun, unlock the safe of my heart, and load my love gun,

  There’s one-one-one, one in the chamber of my heart, and I’m loaded for love.

  There’s one in the chamber of my heart, baby.

  I’m loaded for love, loaded for your love.

  Gonna let you have it, I’m your new outlaw.

  Gonna let you have it, baby, let you have it all.

  I treat you so right, he treats you so wrong, you like your bad men.

  Well, baby, I’m your outlaw now, and I’m gonna gun him down.

  Gonna let him have it, let him have it all, then I’m comin’ for you, baby.

  Gonna shoot you down with my love gun, you don’t belong to no one, no one but me.

  There’s one in the chamber of my heart, baby.

  I’m loaded for love, loaded for your love.

  Gonna let you have it, I’m your new outlaw.

  Gonna let you have it, baby, let you have it all.

  That bad, bad man you been runnin’ with, yeah, he’s gonna fall.

  Don’t get yourself caught in my crossfire, gonna shoot em all.

  Gonna shoot em all down, no one’s gonna be left standin’, baby, just you and me.

  And my smokin’ gun, my smokin’ hot gun,

  And one last bullet, baby, with your name on it,

  Then you gonna say it, I’m your new outlaw.

  And I’m gonna unload in you.

  Rob had been shocked that I didn’t even have to stretch to hit that last power note. I’d always been one of those sopranos’ music and choral teachers loved—I could hit the notes and yet still blend when I wanted to. Of course, I could also stand out if I wanted to. This was one of those times. Rob had said to give it my all with that one, and I had.

  “Holy shit.” Arnie sat back, staring at me with new eyes. If he’d been a cartoon, there would have been dollar signs in them. I almost laughed out loud.

  “Dusty!” Arnie snapped his fingers at the secretary, getting her attention. She was still blinking in surprise at me. “Print me a vocal contract. Now. Go! Go!”

  “So that’s a yes then?” I asked, seeing Voss smirk. I met Rob’s eyes over Arnie’s desk. Rob was just beaming.

  “Yeah.” Arnie nodded, turning off the speakers. “Yeah, I’ll sign you.”

  “Good deal.” Jimmy looked almost as satisfied as Rob. “Hey, I’m doing a show at the Palladium in a couple weeks. How about she opens for me?”

  “What about Chloe Rush?” Arnie frowned as he looked at his iPhone screen.

  “That’s why I’m here.” Voss sighed, putting his boots on the floor and leaning forward, elbows on his knees as he looked at Arnie over the big cherry-colored desk. “I left you a message, didn’t you get it?”

  “Dusty is an idiot.” Arnie snorted, putting his phone on the desk. “She takes messages like a chimp. I’d probably be better off with a monkey”

  “A monkey doesn’t look as good.” Voss grinned. “Anyway, Chloe bailed. I don’t have an opening act.”

  “She just bailed?”

  “Well…” Voss cleared his throat. “Maybe there was something about how I could suck a bag of dicks…”

  “Uh-huh.” Arnie rolled his eyes. “I told you not to get involved with her.”

  “I need another opening act.” Jimmy shrugged. “Sabrina would be perfect. Kills two birds with one stone, am I right?”

  “You do covers?” Arnie studied me closer, looking at me with new eyes.

  “Sure. I can cover almost anything.”

  “She did the best cover of Joplin’s ‘Piece of My Heart’ I’ve ever heard last year at the Attic with me in Detroit.” Jimmy complimented me with a sly wink that made Rob stiffen beside me. I couldn’t even imagine the internal conflict going on in his head. Jimmy Voss was his idol—and here he was being a lecherous benefactor to Rob’s new wife. It might have helped, I thought, if it had been public knowledge that we were married.

  “Yeah?” Arnie squinted at me and cocked his head, as if by doing so he could see something that wasn’t quite there.

  “She’s incredible,” Rob agreed, his hand falling possessively onto my shoulder, squeezing.

  “Oh my God, stop.” I rolled my eyes up at him. “You make it sound like I’m the second coming. I’m just a girl from the Midwest who happens to be able to sing a little.”

  “A little?” Voss scoffed, frowning up at Rob. “What I want to know is, who told you not to pursue a career as a singer? Because whoever it was, they should be shot.”

  “That would be my parents.” I laughed. “They thought I should pursue something more… practical.”

  “Your middle name is ‘practical’?” Jimmy asked Rob with a smirk.

  “Listen, I’ve been in this business a long time and can spot one star out of a thousand,” Arnie said, leaning back in his chair, his fingers tented against his chin.

  “I’m not a star,” I protested.

  “I know that.” Arnie gave a hoarse little laugh. “I signed your boy here because I knew he was a star, even before he knew it. Rob Burns is star material. You, my dear, are not.”

  From being put up on a pedestal to tumbling down to the ground within minutes, I swallowed, feeling my cheeks flaming.

  “Hey—” Rob protested, but Arnie didn’t pay any attention to him.

  “Stand up,” Arnie told me.

  “What?” The word barely came out of my mouth, I felt so choked.

  “Stand up. Turn around!” He barked, and I followed his instructions slowly, dreamlike, in a trance. “She should lose about twenty pounds.”

  My hands went to my belly, my hips, feeling suddenly too fleshy in my jeans and t-shirt. I always felt that way next to svelte Katie, of course, but my best friend had always been one of those tall, slender I-can-eat-anything-and-never-gain-an-ounce types. But I wouldn’t consider myself fat, exactly. Curvy, yes. Maybe by Hollywood’s current anorexic standards I was overweight, but…

  “She’s perfect.” Rob came instantly to my defense, but Arnie was still not listening to him.

  “A little too padded.” Arnie stood, his gaze sweeping over me, from my toes to my head and back again. The way he looked at me had made me feel embarrassed and self-conscious at first, but now I was getting mad as he circled.

  “Um, last time I checked, it was Adele and Kelly Clarkson who won big at the Grammys, not Taylor Swift and Rhianna,” I snapped, crossing my arms over my ‘too padded’ chest.

  “I’m
just saying, camera adds ten pounds.” Arnie shrugged, tilting my chin back and forth with a hand that was adorned with jeweled gold rings and a diamond-encrusted Rolex. “And you have to be practically naked in music videos nowadays. What’s this?”

  He pulled my t-shirt aside to expose my shoulder and bra strap.

  “Oh…” I glanced down, self-conscious again. “A scar… I…”

  “Have to cover that. Tattoo maybe.” His gaze settled on my cleavage. “Nice tits though.”

  “Jesus Christ, Arnie!” Rob stepped between me and the little man.

  “I didn’t touch them!” Arnie threw his hands up in his defense, taking a step back. “Look, let me do my job, okay? Trouble is a whole different animal than a solo female artist.”

  “Unfortunately, he’s right,” Jimmy interjected, shaking his head.

  “But she’s got an unusual face.” Arnie leaned back against his desk, still looking at me with those squinty eyes.

  “Is that bad?” I felt about a foot tall.

  “No—it will help you stand out. You desperately need a makeover though. Dusty!” He yelled his secretary’s name and she appeared at the door. “Call Renee and make an appointment for a complete makeover.”

  “The works?” Dusty glanced at me. I think it was the first time she really registered my presence at all.

  “Everything,” Arnie agreed, holding his hand out when he saw she had papers in hers. “You got that contract?”

  “Right here.”

  She put the stack of paper on his desk and he went around it to sit in his chair, grabbing a nice, silver pen from a stand and pointing at me with it.

  “What am I signing?” I asked, taking the pen with a hand I just noticed was trembling.

  “Just a standard agency contract.” Arnie waved my question away, pointing to the bottom line.

  “A pact with the devil, sweetheart.” Voss chuckled. “They take fifteen percent of your soul for the rest of your career.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic.” Arnie rolled his eyes, jabbing his finger at the paper. “This is what you wanted, right?”

  “Yes?” I looked at Rob, then at Voss, then at the little man behind the desk who, according to this paperwork, would now be my agent, for better or worse.

  “Yes,” Rob said firmly. “Go ahead, baby. Sign.”

  I did, scrawling my name on the black line with a silver pen that probably cost more than my cell phone, and looked at Rob, feeling far more trepidation than I had at any point in our relationship, even when we’d gone together to apply for a marriage license. Rob, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. But Arnie? That was a relationship I was far less sure about.

  What, exactly, had I just done?

  Chapter Three

  “Oh my God, Sabrina, is it really you?” Sarah, the young college co-ed who lived with us, gaped at me as I came into the kitchen and I stopped, glancing around, seeing Daisy, Rob’s personal chef, paused at the sink, eyes wide, staring too.

  “What?” I glanced down at the yellow silk Versace dress I was wearing. Arnie had insisted on a whole new wardrobe before my makeover. He had sent over a team of people who had measured every possible inch of my body and had gone through the walk-in closet I shared with Rob, like that TLC show What Not to Wear, and replaced all my old, comfortable clothes with fashionable replacements. I had drawn the line at throwing my old stuff away and had insisted on boxing and storing it all.

  “Do I really look that different?”

  “You look… Hollywood.” Sarah gulped her water.

  “Gorgeous,” Daisy agreed, bringing a platter to the table. There were two places set, but they couldn’t have known when I would be back, so the other was likely for Rob. Arnie said it would take all day and he wasn’t kidding. I’d been gone from eight in the morning until now—and the clock over the stove said it was nearly nine p.m. They were having a late dinner.

  “Really?” I smoothed my hair, still dark, still long, but now layered and styled, with blondish-red highlights.

  “Rob is going to flip.” Sarah’s eyes brightened as I took a seat at the table, picking at the roasted chicken Daisy had put in the middle. “He’s going to take you right here on the table, just watch.”

  “Sarah!” I rolled my eyes, snatching my hand away from the chicken when Daisy slapped at it.

  Sarah just grinned, picking at the chicken too when Daisy turned her back to get the roasted vegetables.

  “Where is Rob?” I couldn’t help it—I pinched off some of the chicken skin. It melted in my mouth, so delicious. The dietician Arnie made me consult with wouldn’t approve, of course. I was supposed to eat only the lean, white breast meat, no skin. Ugh. If that’s what I had to do to be Hollywood-skinny, I wasn’t sure it was worth it.

  “Celeste said she had to talk to him.” Sarah shrugged, sitting back in her chair as Daisy approached with the vegetables.

  “I’ll set you a place, Sabrina.” Daisy arranged the platters, nodding in satisfaction.

  “Where are Katie and Tyler?” It was Sunday night—Rob called it “family” night—and we were all supposed to eat dinner together. Of course, it didn’t always happen. Life got in the way sometimes. But dinner together every Sunday was supposed to be the norm.

  “House-hunting.” Sarah snagged a green bean and bit into it. “Their real estate agent took them to some of the big houses in the hills.”

  “Oh.”

  I knew they’d been talking about it, even looking, but I still didn’t like to think of them living apart from us. I’d gotten used to having my best friend right down the hall. Tyler and Sarah had lived with Rob long before I met him. Tyler, I understood—he was Rob’s band mate. Sarah took a little more getting used to. I was jealous of her at first, but once Rob had explained their relationship, his assurance had assuaged my fears. She was just a friend—and Rob was more like a father to her than anything else.

  Once I moved in, and Katie did, too, we had quite a house full. Which was fine, because Rob’s house was huge—eighteen thousand square feet with an infinity pool like a moat around the whole house—and it gave all of us our space. Not that we didn’t get along. Sarah was sweet, and Tyler was a lot of fun to have around—although sometimes I needed a break from him. His energy matched Katie’s—they were both fun-loving, partying types. Rob and I were more likely to curl up on the couch with a bowl of popcorn to watch a movie than head out to the nightclubs Tyler and Katie liked to frequent downtown.

  “Wish I could afford something like that.” Sarah sighed, sitting back in her chair as Daisy set a plate and silverware at my place. “Apartments in L.A. are crazy expensive.”

  “Not you too?” I pouted, smiling at Daisy as she put my usual drink—a raspberry mojito—down in front of me. I was going to have to switch to bottled water if the dietician had her way. More ugh.

  “I’ll be done with school in a month. Then I can work full time at Pacific Counseling instead of interning. They already offered me the job, as long as I pass the EPPP and my orals.”

  “And of course, you will, brainiac.” I smiled at her, sipping my mojito. “But are you sure you want to live all alone in some apartment? I know Rob isn’t going to want you to go. Have you talked to him?”

  “Not yet. And don’t you say anything.” Sarah wagged her finger at me and then glanced over at the chef, standing at the counter. “You either, Daisy!”

  Daisy locked her lips with an invisible key.

  I couldn’t believe, at one time, I’d been jealous of Sarah, mostly because I didn’t understand her relationship with Rob—who was this strange, young girl who lived with him? But once he’d told me the story of how they met—two addicts at a meeting who understood what it was like to have a huge monkey on your back—I softened. He said they’d gotten close, just as friends, he insisted, and when she’d been facing eviction, he’d given her a place to stay. And somehow, she’d just never left. He’d kind of adopted her, really. She was just turning twenty-one th
is year, not even quite old enough to drink.

  But Sarah had saved Katie’s life—Tyler had drawn Katie into his own pattern of addiction with heroin—and for that, I would be forever grateful. Sarah became like a little sister to me and if she moved out, I would miss her. But I understood her longing for independence. If he loved you, Rob had a way of taking over every aspect of your life. He didn’t mean any harm—exactly the opposite, really—but it just kind of happened.

  “Say anything about what?” Rob padded into the kitchen through the swinging door, barefoot as usual, wearing jeans and a soft blue chambray shirt, fully unbuttoned. He stopped when he saw me sitting at the table, his face changing slowly, from surprise to pleasure to lust. I watched his eyes darken as his gaze moved down from my face to the hem of my new dress, over my legs to my extremely high heels. They hurt my feet, but if this was the reaction they got, it was totally worth it.

  “Told you,” Sarah stage-whispered, nudging me and grinning.

  “You look…” Rob swallowed, glancing at Sarah, then at Daisy, as if to try to remind himself there were other people present. “Different.”

  “You can thank Arnie’s clean-up crew.” I laughed, holding my hand out to him, and he came over to lean in and kiss me. His lips were warm and soft, as always, but there was something else in his kiss—something more insistent, demanding. It made my bottom clench and my breath quicken.

  “Remind me to thank Arnie next time I see him,” he breathed, his eyes on mine, so dark and full of desire I practically melted in my chair. My God, how was I going to make it through dinner, with him looking at me like that?

  “So…” I cleared my throat as he slid into the chair on the other side of me and started dishing himself a plate of roasted chicken and vegetables. “I hear Katie and Tyler are house-hunting today.”

  “Yeah.” Rob scowled and glanced over at Sarah before he tore into a chicken leg. “He won’t listen to reason. Why in the hell do we need to pay for two huge houses, when they can live here?”

  “Oh, let him go, Rob.” Sarah scowled back at him, scooping a plate full of more vegetables than chicken, while I did the same. Daisy put a pitcher of water on the table and Sarah smiled at her.

 

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