“I’ll be out in a sec,” I told her, pretending to type something on my laptop.
Faith reached over and closed the lid, only narrowly missing my fingers. “Bullshit. You’re hiding from me.”
I stood up, still not looking at her, and stepped out from behind the table. “No. Why would I be hiding from you?”
“Maybe because Johnnie’s tongue was down your throat for the whole world to see?”
I stilled and although I wasn’t looking at her—my sneakers suddenly seemed fascinating—I could feel her tense too.
I cleared my throat. “Oh. That.”
“That.”
I let out a tight sigh. Somehow I would have to explain the whole mess to her and hope she’d understand.
“I’m going to fucking kill him.”
“What?” I looked up and met her eyes. What I saw in her expression surprised me.
Fierce protectiveness.
“You heard me. I’m going to kill him. Taking advantage of you like that.”
“But, but—”
“But what?” Faith demanded.
“I thought you’d be angry.”
“Oh, I’m angry all right. I’m going to break his balls.”
“No, wait!” I grabbed her arm. “I mean, I thought you’d be angry with me.”
Faith gave me a blank look. “You? Why?”
I cringed. “For, you know, kissing him after . . .” Oh wow, this whole situation was so messed up.
“After I fucked him?”
I cringed again. “Yeah.”
“Which makes it even worse,” Faith thundered, her voice echoing around my trailer. “Please tell me what you’ve been telling the media is true? That it was just a kiss?”
“Yes!” I cried. “And I didn’t even want him to kiss me, not really.”
Faith’s eyes sparked with renewed fury. “You mean he forced himself on you?”
“What? No! Hang on.” I held up a hand. “Let me explain, OK?” I gestured for her to take a seat because having her prowl around my trailer in a rage wasn’t helping me to share the full story.
After I was done, Faith blew out a long breath. “PR nightmare if ever there was one. At least when I made headlines when I was younger, I actually fucked the guy.”
“Faith.”
“What? It’s true. Now the guy you want to fuck is not going to want to go near you after Johnnie’s antics.”
“Don’t remind me. And I don’t want to . . . you know . . .”
Faith gave me a long look.
“OK, fine. I like Gabe, but I haven’t even had a chance to get to know him yet. Fat chance of that now.”
“Bullshit. You do the video and you’ll be fine.”
“I’m not doing the video.”
“Yeah, you are. Trust me.”
“No, I really don’t want to. I just want this to all go away.”
“How long have you worked in Hollywood?”
I met her eyes reluctantly. “A while.”
“Yeah, you have, but I’ve been around even longer. Face it head-on, Chloe. Own it. I spent too much of my twenties acting out and not owning it. You’ve done nothing wrong, you hear me? Go do that video and show the world you have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I don’t?”
“No, of course not. You’re an irresistibly talented young woman and Johnnie couldn’t keep his hands off you—because he’s a jerk, but that’s beside the point.”
I nodded. “I’ll think about it. You’re not mad?”
“At you? Hell, no. Alright, a bit because you thought I’d be mad at you. You should know me better than that.”
There was a beat of silence and I tapped the countertop with my nails. I decided to have the courage to say what I was thinking. “Maybe I don’t know you better.”
Faith sort of shrugged and grunted at the same time and I reached out and put my hand on her arm.
“No, I mean it. I’d really like to know you better, if you’ll let me.”
“You may not like what you find.”
I smiled. “I doubt that very much. The more I get to know you, the better it gets.”
“We’ll see. Come on, everyone is wondering where you are.”
While her response may have been gruff, I noticed she took my hand as we left the trailer and didn’t let go until we arrived on set.
Chapter 10
This was a bad idea. A bad, bad idea.
I looked at my reflection in the mirror while the hairstylist finished putting spray on my curls and didn’t recognize myself. That was the funny thing about being an actress—when you put on the costume and all the make-up you could become someone else.
The only problem was that today I was supposed to be myself.
It was the shoot for Gypsy Hour’s music video and hair and make-up had just spent over an hour turning me into a rock chick. My auburn hair fell in loose waves to my shoulders. It was that messy look that I knew Faith would describe as ‘just been laid.’ I preferred to think of it as ‘just woke up.’ My blue eyes appeared larger than usual due to the extremely heavy eye make-up and my lips were painted an unapologetic siren red.
The outfit to match was a fashionable off-the-shoulder red tank top that clung to my petite frame. It was paired with an impossibly short black skirt that they’d at least agreed to let me wear fishnet stockings with—such that they were.
“You look gorgeous, hon,” Nina, the hairstylist, told me. “Smokin’.”
I swallowed anxiously. “Thanks.” No amount of make-up was going to make me feel comfortable about facing Johnnie and Gabe again.
“Pretty appropriate given the name of the song,” Nina continued, unaware of my nerves. “They’re not going to be able to look away.”
I forced a smile onto my face. “It’s a great song.” When I’d listened to Gypsy Hour’s new song and read the script for the music video, my determination to say no had evaporated.
Gypsy Hour’s new track was both edgy and super smooth. It was called Everywhere I Look. The concept for the video was that I was going to pretend to be each member of the band and play their instruments. The guys would do a double take when they saw me, as if they couldn’t believe their eyes, and it would be edited so I would literally be everywhere they looked.
“You’re ready to go.”
After that, I followed a crew member down the hall of the studio to the set.
Just another day at the office, Chloe, I reminded myself. That was all this was. All I had to do was look hot and sexy for the cameras and sell the shit out of Gypsy Hour’s new song.
I hesitated when we arrived on-set.
The guys were already in position with their instruments and the studio was dark, with just a few red and blue lights casting an eerie glow on the band.
Levi had been laughing about something before I got there, but his laughter faded when he saw me. “Holy cow. Hey, Chloe.”
I saw Emilio raise a dark eyebrow because I actually felt safe looking at him—not at Johnnie or Gabe. He let out a low whistle. “Nice to see you again.”
“Hey, guys. I love the new song.”
“And I love the outfit.” Johnnie strolled over and I stiffened when he slipped an arm around my waist. “Aw, don’t be like that.” He gave me a wink. “Especially after the other night.”
This was the first time we’d seen each other since my party. He’d sent me a vague text message claiming to be sorry for the drunken kiss and promised it would all blow over soon enough. He even offered to make headlines with another woman if that would make me feel better. I’d thanked him for his offer and told him that wouldn’t be necessary. Apparently Johnnie was entirely unperturbed by all the publicity. Under different circumstances, I might have been glad for the opportunity to shed my innocent image, but that was before I’d met Gabe, who I now couldn’t look in the eye.
I froze as Johnnie planted a kiss on my cheek, then stepped out of his reach. “Thanks,” I said, tugging at the bottom of my
mini skirt. “The outfit’s not really my usual style, but the script called for rock chick.”
I didn’t dare look at Gabe. I was too scared of what I would see in his eyes. Distaste? Disgust?
I tried for a calming breath but my chest felt too tight to breathe. Damn Johnnie for making this so awkward. Why couldn’t he have just kept his lips to himself?
“Alright everyone. Here’s how it’s going to work.”
I turned gratefully toward the director, Dave, and edged closer to Levi, because I felt a lot safer in his company than Johnnie’s. I swore I felt Gabe’s eyes on my back from his position behind me at the drums, but I kept my eyes straight ahead and focused on the director.
As he explained how the shoot was going to run, I felt myself relax. There would be no getting up close and personal with Johnnie today, thank goodness. First up, I was going to pretend to play guitar, then bass and drums, while Johnnie ogled me. I had to shoot him a few sultry looks now and then, but at least I didn’t have to go anywhere near him.
Levi came up beside me and slipped the guitar strap over his head. “This is Katie. Be nice to her, alright?”
I smiled as he handed me a glossy white guitar. “Your guitars have names?”
“Only to make up for the lack of girlfriends,” Johnnie called out.
Levi’s blue eyes twinkled at me in the dim light. “Don’t pay any attention to him. Singers always feel inadequate because they don’t have an instrument.”
Emilio chuckled and behind me Gabe hit several drums in quick succession. Ba ba boom.
My smile intensified, but I didn’t turn around.
“Don’t know about you,” Johnnie shot back, “but according to the ladies, the instrument God gave me is all I need.”
I saw Levi and Emilio share a pained look.
“I promise I’ll be gentle with Katie,” I told Levi, choosing to ignore Johnnie, and carefully adjusted my left hand on the fret board.
“Yeah, that’s good,” Levi said, watching me. “But you’re not standing right for a rock chick. You need to do the whole power stance.”
“Power stance?”
“Yeah.” Levi stepped so his feet were wide apart.
I copied and found myself laughing. “Um, this kind of feels like a guy thing.”
“No way. It’s a guitarist thing, trust me. Now move your hips.”
I glanced over at Emilio, who had an amused look on his face. “Are you sure I’m not about to make a move on Katie? Because I don’t think she’s into me that way.”
Everyone laughed, including the crew.
“You know what?” I continued. “Can we just play the song and then I won’t feel so stupid? I need a beat to move.”
Before anyone could reply, Gypsy Hour’s new track was pumped from a set of speakers hidden out of view from the cameras.
Emilio’s fingers moved over the strings of his bass but he didn’t actually play—like the majority of music videos, the band would mime while being filmed.
I found myself swaying to the music.
Levi grinned. “That’s it! Do you think you can pretend to play or do you need some tips?”
I gave him a coy look. “I think I can manage.”
Occasionally my younger brother came in handy. Years ago Damon had taught me a few basic chords and I positioned my fingers into a D chord and pretended to strum.
“Alright, that’s excellent,” Dave called out. “We’re going to get the cameras rolling now everyone. Guys if you can just keep doing what you’re doing, and Chloe, more of the same too with a few steamy looks at Johnnie.”
Even having to pretend I adored Johnnie—rather than wanting to strangle him after the other night—I started to have fun. A lot of fun.
After pretending to play Levi’s guitar I switched over to Emilio’s bass.
I made everyone laugh again when he gave it to me and I said, “Oh wow, it’s heavy!”
Emilio showed me a few simple notes so it would look like I was capable of playing something.
This time while I pretended to play they got Johnnie to mime the chorus:
You’re everywhere I look
Everywhere I look
One kiss is all it took
Then it was time for the drums and my relaxed attitude evaporated. Until now I’d managed to avoid Gabe. I made my way over to the drums and held out my hand for the drumsticks, pretending everything was completely normal.
Gabe didn’t move. “You know how to play?”
I had no idea what he was thinking. Was he bothered by the kiss I’d shared with Johnnie—like I still was—or couldn’t he have cared less?
Today he wore dirty dark jeans and a white T-shirt that appeared iridescent under the stage lights. It made his eyes glow as he looked at me.
“Nope, but I can pretend,” I said. “Acting’s kind of my thing.”
If he thought I was funny he didn’t show it. He stood up and moved to one side. I sat down on the stool, being careful to hike my skirt down to a respectful length and keep my legs together.
“Legs wide, Chloe, or you’re not sitting like a drummer!” Johnnie called out with a cheeky grin.
Gabe stiffened beside me.
Before I could think to keep my mouth shut I yelled out, “Eyes to the front Johnnie or I might discover another use for this drumstick!” I held out my hand for the drumsticks again while the crew did their best to suppress their laughter.
I swiveled to face Gabe when he still didn’t hand them to me. I looked him right in the eye. As embarrassed as I was, I didn’t know how to do distant. Damon could attest to that. “What?”
Gabe blinked and I caught a flicker of something in his eyes. It wasn’t disgust. More like confusion. Or maybe I was imagining it, but it could have been respect. “Nothing.”
“Don’t tell me your sticks have names too?” I joked.
He glanced down at the sticks in his hands and finally smiled. “No.” He handed them to me. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Not a clue.” I used my foot to beat out a steady rhythm on the bass drum although it was nowhere as steady as when Gabe played. At regular intervals I tried to hit a snare drum—at least I think that’s what it was—and failed miserably.
I found myself laughing. “Oh my God, I completely suck at this!”
I heard the other band members snicker and I stopped and pointed a stick in their direction. “Careful. Like I said, I can find other uses for these sticks.”
“That’s a relief because they’re not any good on the drums,” Johnnie retorted.
“Ignore him,” Gabe said in a low voice that almost sounded protective, and he crouched down beside me.
I closed my eyes for a second as his scent hit me. Just like the other night he was all leather and spice, although I had no idea how because he wasn’t even wearing leather today.
“You’re doing fine,” he told me. “Do just like you have been and hit the bass drum every beat, then I want you to try to hit the snare on beat two and four.”
“Um, OK.” I glanced at the drums in front of me uncertainly. “Is the snare the one I’ve been hitting?”
Gabe’s lip curled. “Yeah, that’s the one.”
I attempted to do as he suggested but it all fell apart after about four bars. “Holy crap, this is ridiculous! I can play piano with two hands but when I have to do something with my foot it all goes wrong.”
“Completely normal. Here.” Gabe wheeled over another stool I hadn’t seen earlier and positioned it behind me.
“Oooh, here we go!” called Johnnie. “Lesson time.”
“Jealousy isn’t attractive,” Levi told him, and Emilio chuckled.
“Like I said, ignore them.” His voice was still low so only I could hear him. “OK, let’s try again.”
Try? How on earth could I try to play drums when Gabe was tucked in behind me, a leg either side of my hips, his chin so close to my shoulder I could feel his breath on my neck?
�
��I’m just going to take your hands for a bit and guide you, OK?”
I nodded because speech was overrated. Breathing too, but I must have been getting enough air because I could still smell Gabe’s intoxicating scent.
My breath hitched as Gabe’s hands took mine and his chin actually did rest on my shoulder this time.
“Jesus. Isn’t there a scene like this from a movie?” Johnnie complained.
“Quiet, diva,” Gabe shot back. “Now get the bass drum going,” he said to me.
I did like he told me and could feel my leg shaking, but somehow I managed to hit out a steady beat.
“Right, now let’s add in the snare.”
Gabe brought the stick down on the snare drum on the second and fourth beats, and we did that for a few bars until my head was spinning.
“How about some cymbals?”
I would have done anything he’d requested at this point, so I didn’t resist when he guided my other hand to hit one of the cymbals double-time.
I broke into a wide smile. “Oh my God, I’m doing it!” It was like the first time playing piano when it had all clicked. There was a sense of everything coming together in perfect synchronicity and it was a heady feeling.
“You mean Gabe’s doing it!” Johnnie corrected.
“He really is a diva, isn’t he?” I muttered.
I felt Gabe’s low ‘mmm-hmm’ deep in my chest and I messed up a beat.
“See?” Johnnie said, and I saw him turn to Dave out of the corner of my eye. “How are we going to make it look authentic, dude?”
“Screw you, Johnnie,” I said to myself, then sucked in a breath when I realized Gabe was still sitting right there. Whoops. It was too late to take it back and I was determined to put the overconfident attention seeker in his place. “Let go, Gabe.”
After a brief hesitation, Gabe released my hands and sat back while I played the beat myself.
“Will this do?” I yelled over the beat.
“Looks authentic to me,” Dave said to Johnnie.
I grinned in triumph, managing to hold the rhythm.
Dave gestured at Gabe. “Get out of the shot, Gabe. Keep going, Chloe, that’s perfect!”
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