Changing the Key: A Detrimental Rock Star Romance (Book 1)

by April Michelle

  Glasses and bottles were raised as everyone toasted.

  “To changing the key!”

  Friday afternoon, I made the final changes on my presentation, hit save, and carried my laptop to the front lounge, where the band was watching TV.

  “Is this a good time?” I wanted to catch everyone today since the next two days were our days off and they would be scattered, trying to unwind. “I have a few things I want to show you.”

  “Sure, baby.” Jaxon reached for the remote, but I stopped him. Callie had shown me how to connect the laptop to the TV screens so that I could project my presentation. It felt so official, sending a little thrill up my spine.

  “I have some exciting news for you,” I began, barely able to control my enthusiasm. “Jaxon already knows this, but Indigo Kelley, the journalist who was here the day of my graduation, was here because I pitched an idea for an article. She just sent me the digital link, and it’s amazing!” I quickly forwarded the email to all of them and gave them a few minutes to see it for themselves.

  The article detailed the many virtues of Detrimental as told from the crew’s point of view. They had provided firsthand accounts of the personal side of the band and how they each felt like a valued member of the Detrimental family. From flying crew members home in emergencies to flying in families to celebrate birthdays and anniversaries to providing for the crew’s needs in their rider at each venue, the guys in Detrimental were hailed as great employers and just great people.

  As each of the guys finished reading, they looked at me with wide, unblinking eyes.

  Eli was the first to comment. “Damn, this is humbling. A lot of people depend on us, but it’s nice to know that they genuinely like working for us.”

  Everyone agreed and seemed a little uncomfortable with the praise they were given. But they had earned it, and the world deserved to see this human side of them.

  “I wanted another way to change your image without breaking any rules. Your crew members love you and were an untapped resource.”

  “It’s perfect,” Derek stated. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now for my other project. I even kept this one a secret from Jaxon.” Opening the saved document, I started my simple PowerPoint slide show. “I know you guys are nervous about the possibility of changing record labels or going independent. So I wanted to prove to you that it’s the right decision.” I could see that I had their undivided attention, encouraging me to continue. “For about two weeks I’ve been going outside before the doors open to survey the crowd. I wanted to know how they felt about the changes in your image and sound on Dark. I’m not ashamed to admit that I went into full nerd mode. Using everything I learned in my marketing and research data classes, I put together the results of my survey.”

  “This is why you’ve been disappearing every day?” Jaxon asked, his voice strained. I nodded my head and was pulled into a crushing kiss.

  “I’m going to need some popcorn and a cold drink if there’s a show with this presentation,” Lance joked, fanning his face. Becoming aware of the four sets of eyes watching us, I eased out of Jaxon’s grasp and smoothed my hair back into place.

  “Make this quick,” Jaxon urged, barely banked desire shining in his eyes.

  “Okay. We can skip all of the demographic information, just know that I made sure to ask a wide variety of people. Here are the results, in a nutshell.” I clicked on charts and graphs as I detailed important results. “Eighty-nine percent of the people I surveyed came to your show to hear the songs from Bonds. Only twenty-four percent who purchased Bonds also purchased Dark. Seventy-six percent enjoy a good break-up song, but only thirteen percent connected with ‘Hit the Bricks’. In talking more with them, they could relate to a break-up song that was sad or even angry if they’d been wronged. ‘Hit the Bricks’ felt mean and callous, something they couldn’t relate to.” Skipping to the final slide, I pointed out the most glaring statistic. “Ninety-five percent said they were more likely to buy your next album if it was more like Bonds.” The guys were all on the edge of their seats, but I didn’t want to drown them in too many facts and figures, so I let that number hang in the air a minute. “There’s a lot more data, but it boils down to this: they don’t like the changes. However, they’re loyal and love the original songs enough to overlook the new ones.”

  Shawn cleared his throat and spoke while the others continued to absorb the information. “So, from a business perspective, going back to our original sound is a solid decision.”

  “Without a doubt. Your targeted consumer base wants your original sound back. You need to do it either way because the music you make needs to reflect who you are. Now you have proof that it’s also what’s best for everyone, and you can fight for the changes you want in your contract with confidence.”

  “Can you send me everything so I can review it?”

  “Of course. Anyone else?” The rest of them looked a little shellshocked and shook their heads.

  “Nah, Shawn is the numbers guy,” Derek said. “I think the rest of us are good.”

  An alarm sounded on Eli’s watch. “We have sound check in ten.”

  The guys stood and prepared to leave, their silence slowly turning to excitement. One by one, they thanked me and headed down the steps of the bus. Jaxon remained seated on the sofa, watching me with a pensive expression as I disconnected the computer.

  “Come here,” he whispered, taking my hand to guide me between his legs. With his hands resting on my hips, he bent to rest the crown of his head on my belly. “I can’t find the words to tell you how incredible you are or what this means to me. It’s truly overwhelming.”

  Rubbing small circles on his back, I tried my best to soothe him. It was a lot to take in. “I’m sorry I kept it a secret. In my heart, I already knew the outcome but didn’t want to get your hopes up until I had proof.”

  “I knew it too and should have fought harder. Everyone at LGR convinced me that it was for the best, but I fucked up. This whole time, I let everybody down by allowing all of this to happen.”

  “No,” I said firmly, lifting his head so I could see his face. There was so much regret in his eyes that didn’t belong there. “That’s not what this was about. It isn’t your fault. This was forced on you, and fighting it would have only made things more difficult and stressful for everyone. You did the best you could with the information you had at the time. Nobody holds that against you, I promise. And now that we know better, we’ll do better.”

  “We?” He sounded unsure but with a hint of hope.

  “Yes, we. All in, together. I’m new to all of this, but nobody messes with my family.” Jaxon exhaled loudly and pulled me down to straddle his lap. His tongue slid into my mouth as his hands slid under my shirt. An alert on Jaxon’s phone had him groaning in frustration.

  “I have a new project if you’re up for a challenge,” he said, between the kisses he trailed along my neck.

  “I love a challenge. What do you have in mind?”

  “Meet me in my dressing room after soundcheck. We’re going to compare make-up sex with thank-you sex. It’s going to take some intense research, but I predict some fascinating results.”

  “Mmmmm, I’m intrigued. Will there be graphs?”

  “I’m picturing a table.” He gently bit on the sensitive spot at the curve of my neck, making me moan in response. A hand traveled under the leg of my shorts, past the thin barrier of my panties to caress the curve of my ass. Fingers slid against my wet center. “Pie charts,” he rasped. “I think we’ll need lots of pie charts.”

  My laughter was quickly smothered, and he was late to soundcheck. Good research required dedication and attention to detail.

  Chapter 21

  Jaxon

  While our crew was hard at work getting the stage set up in the arena, we were gathered around a conference table upstairs. A wall of windows provided a panoramic view of downtown St. Paul, just blocks from the mighty Mississippi River. Not that we we
re paying any attention to the view.

  Without knowing what to expect or even who in the hell we were meeting with, we nervously waited for the video conference call with LGR to begin. Each fidgeting band member was visible in the corner of the large TV mounted to the wall while the rest of the screen remained an ominous black. Anna sat with Callie out of range of the camera, and I wanted to reach out. A simple touch would anchor me.

  As I lifted my hand, a live feed filled the TV and a woman came into view. She was our age and attractive, objectively speaking. Dressed in expensive business attire, she had the look and general air of an executive. Files and a laptop sat within reach on her right, a bottle of water on her left. Trying to gauge the mood of the meeting, I scrutinized her face, but it gave nothing away.

  “Natalia?” Shawn asked, his voice rife with anger and disbelief at who he was seeing.

  “Hello, Shawn,” she said, all business despite the slight blush tinting her cheeks. “And good afternoon, Detrimental.” Apparently, she was going to skip right past the awkward reunion. “First, let me introduce myself.” A humorless laugh burst from Shawn. “My name is Natalia Greene.”

  “Greene?” Shawn’s voice was laced with shock. “As in Roger Greene?”

  “He’s my father.” She took no pains to deny it. I would even say there was a challenge in the tip of her chin, daring anyone to have a problem with her relation to the company’s founder.

  “Hi, Natalia,” Eli greeted. “It’s nice to meet you. No offense, but we’re all very curious to know if Roger is coming back.”

  “None taken. He’s back,” she confirmed. “He sends his regards, but I asked to be put in charge of this meeting.”

  “And what is your role at LGR?” Derek asked.

  “I’m the VP in charge of artist acquisition and development.” She held up a hand to stop any argument. “I know you aren’t new talent, but I’m going to go out on a limb and say that if LGR doesn’t repair some of the damage that’s been wreaked over the past year, you’ll be looking for a new label. If you haven’t done so already.” She arched an eyebrow, implying she already knew the answer to her unasked question. “I would have done the same thing. You were fucked over on your last album. I’m here to make it right.”

  “We appreciate your candor, but we don’t know you. It’s hard to trust what you’re saying,” I admitted.

  “That’s understandable, so I’m going to be brutally honest. For personal reasons, my father needed to step away from the business for a while. Putting Gordon Lee in charge was a huge mistake. Each day that we’ve been back has made that more evident. He’s been let go, and we’re working hard to get our house back in order. That includes making sure we don’t lose some of our best talent in the fallout. So I have a few questions for you if you’re willing to help me prevent that from happening.”

  We all looked at each other and shrugged our shoulders. Answering a few questions wouldn’t cost us anything.

  “Okay, shoot,” Lance urged.

  Fingers poised on her keyboard, Natalia asked the first question. “Whose idea was it to change your image?”

  “Bianca Miner,” I responded.

  “Did you support those changes?”

  “No,” we all said in unison.

  She continued to ask us more about Dark and our views on the changes that were made. She also asked about our recent attempts to improve our image and take back a bit of control over our music. Her fingers flew, typing furiously the whole time. Finally, she stopped and looked directly at us.

  “Thank you. That will help things from a business perspective, but I have a final question as a fan.”

  “You’re a fan?” I asked, hoping that would be a point in our favor.

  “Yes. I follow you online and was able to catch the show in Louisville last week.”

  “Were you there to spy on us?” Shawn asked, rife with attitude.

  “No, but it wasn’t strictly a personal trip either. I wanted to get a feel for your fanbase and their reaction to the recent album. However, someone had already beaten me to it. I was asked to take a survey regarding just that.”

  I heard Anna gasp and looked over to see her cover her mouth. Her eyes were wide with shock. “Our personal assistant just earned her degree in public relations. She was doing some research to support our decision to try to find a new label and go back to our original sound.”

  “Is she there? May I say hello?”

  I waved Anna over and pulled her into my lap. After brief introductions were made and Natalia expressed an interest in seeing the results of Anna’s survey, I needed clarification on one important point. “So you aren’t bothered by the publicity attempts on our end to try to reverse everything Bianca has done?”

  “No, it’s brilliant. If you agree, Bianca will be pulled as your representative while we sort through everything over the next few weeks. In the meantime, you have full authority to handle your publicity the way you see fit.”

  Huge sighs of relief filled the room, and smiles were shared all around. “Yes!” I exclaimed, “We agree to that!” One step at a time, we were regaining control.

  “Great. Now back to my final question. Who else do I need to fire for allowing the original genius of ‘Hit the Bricks’ to get warped into the angsty, emo hell that’s on Dark?”

  We rattled off a few of the producers’ names while making it clear that they were operating under direct orders from Gordon. Their work was impeccable, even if it wasn’t what we would have asked for.

  “Alright, last item. You have a break coming up. My father and I want to meet to discuss renewing your contract.” She let that idea hang for a moment. Nobody jumped in excitement, but we weren’t saying no either. If Roger was back at the helm, we were willing to hear him out. “As a show of good faith, we’re having papers drawn up permitting you to re-record ‘Hit the Bricks’ as it was originally written. In addition, you will retain full rights and ownership of the recording and all revenue generated.”

  Stunned into silence, we kept our composure long enough to wrap up the video call. The second it ended, we celebrated loud enough for everyone in the venue to hear us.

  “Ready to explain what the hell that was earlier?”

  We had just come off stage for the night, and I was hoping that Shawn was ready to talk. After all, he’d had the rest of the afternoon to stew and then two hours to bang out his frustration on his drums.

  “What’s there to explain?” After chugging half of his water bottle, he turned to leave. I was not going to be so easily deterred. Letting everyone else get a head start towards the dressing rooms, I fell in step beside him.

  “Are you saying I imagined that little reunion with Natalia today or the attitude that you gave her the entire meeting?”

  “What the fuck, man?” Instantly defensive, his body went rigid.

  “Hey!” I held my hands up in surrender. “I’m not saying it wasn’t deserved. I just want to know if this is going to be a problem if we stay with LGR.”

  “Nope. No problem.”

  His tone did not invoke a lot of confidence, but I knew Shawn. The only time he got this aggressive was when someone hurt him. With nothing more to go on, I had no choice but to wait until he was ready to open up.

  “Okay. Tell me if that changes.” Slapping him on the shoulder, I let it go. Anna was already waiting in the green room for me, sweeping away all thoughts of Shawn. I was so gone for her. “Hey, baby.”

  She stepped right into my waiting arms. I had learned that there was no use shielding her from my sweat-soaked body. It didn’t discourage her in the least. As her tongue found mine and her fingers dug through my damp hair, I got the impression it actually turned her on. The arrival of some backstage VIPs prevented me from exploring that theory further.

  “Later,” I whispered. “We never got a chance to properly celebrate earlier.”

  Humming in anticipation, she leaned close and bit my earlobe, nearly making me come in my pants. “C
elebration sex. That sounds like another category worth investigating.”

  “Damn, I like the way you think.”

  A torturous hour of the usual post-concert dog and pony show was all I could handle before we made our escape to a vacant dressing room. The moment the door was locked, we tore at each other’s clothes. Only the most critical items came completely off. Her jeans and panties were in a pile on the floor while my pants barely made it past my knees. She insisted on removing my t-shirt, while I was content lifting one breast over the low V-neck opening of her shirt.

  Touching, kissing sucking, stroking, we were half-crazed with arousal. I fumbled for a condom before lifting her and pressing her back against the closest wall. Automatically wrapping her legs around my waist, she guided me home. Once I bottomed out in her, the urgency began to fade. With firm, tempered thrusts, I kept the fire between us stoked at a low smolder. Grinding my hips into hers with just the right amount of pressure, I got the reaction I was looking for. Focusing my attention on maintaining that friction, I felt her start to tense up. Her legs shook and she held her breath just before she unraveled. Each pulsing ripple of her walls around my cock had my pleasure climbing. A few more deep strokes and I saw stars.

  “Damn, baby. How does it keep getting better?” My arms and legs felt like jelly, so I pressed more of my weight against her to hold her in place and rested my forehead to hers.

  Although my body was sated, my mind swirled with thoughts of the two-week break following the shows in Chicago on Friday and Saturday. I had been putting it off, though discussing the future was a subject we both seemed to avoid for fear of what may come. Since things had become official between us, I automatically pictured her going wherever I went. I knew was making assumptions again, but being apart wasn’t something I wanted to consider. In two days, she would have the opportunity to go home. Would she want to stay there for the break and then rejoin the tour? Or would she spend that time looking for her dream job, one that put her talents to much better use than working as our assistant?