by Anthology
The door flung open. Lauren waltzed in with her usual flair. “Hello, everyone,” she sang. She glided across the room. The only evidence that she was surprised to see me was a slight stutter in her steps.
“Lauren. Have a seat.” Mark’s voice lost the friendliness that he had when he met me earlier. The other guys mostly sat back with their arms crossed, staring at her with cold eyes.
Mark got straight to business. “As you know, we’re here because of the unfortunate situation that has evolved regarding Ms. Harrington. We were very dismayed at Empire at the behavior regarding her.”
Lauren looked smug. “Yes, well, it’s been a PR nightmare to handle, let me tell you. I’m sorry, but I feel I need to speak freely.”
Mark waved his hand to continue.
“Despite my best efforts, Emma has always done her best to circumvent my efforts to see the band succeed. She tried to talk them out of touring as a backup band when they first started, then when that didn’t work, she tried to get herself a job as their official photographer. Thank goodness another opportunity came up or who knows how else she might have done to interrupt their recording and tour.” She looked across the table at me. “I’m sorry, Emma, but you really didn’t have your supposed boyfriend’s best interests at heart. And after abandoning them, you show up out of the blue after the accident and take advantage of Drew once again.” She looked back to Mark. “And now she’s using the media to get more attention to further her career. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was her who sold that story to the media to get money.”
Mark clasped his hands and looked to the members of Southern Pleasure. “What do you guys have to say about this?”
Rick uncrossed his arms and leaned forward. Dressed in black jeans, a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a black cowboy hat perched on his head, he looked the epitome of a dark cowboy, not to be crossed. “Speaking for the band, we’re not pleased with what we’ve heard. It’s very disappointing, and we want something done about it immediately.” He shot me a look, which if I didn’t know the situation better, would have had me quaking. As it was, I swallowed hard. I knew Rick wasn’t someone to mess with, but I’d never been on that side of him.
Mark looked around the table. “Anyone else?”
Drew cleared his throat. “We just want to see that the band and its members are protected against anyone who tries to take advantage of us. And Emma gets anything that’s coming to her.” He didn’t look at me, but Lauren did with a wicked, victorious gleam.
“I see. And what do you suggest we at Empire do?”
For the first time, Drew smiled. He paused, then put his arms on the table and leaned forward. “Oh, that’s easy. We think you should fire,” he grinned like the Cheshire cat, “Lauren.”
Her jaw dropped. “What? Why on Earth would you say such a thing?” Her voice grew more and more shrill as she spoke. She pointed at me. “Once again she’s leading you to hate and blame me for everything.” She stood and hit the table with her hand in front of Mark. “This is what she does. She wraps them around her finger and the next thing you know, they’re making stupid suggestions like this.”
“I’m inclined to agree,” Mark responded. All of us stared at Mark, worried he was siding with her. Lauren sat back down with a pleased expression. “With the band.” Her smile fell again, and she started to stutter some retort, but Mark put his hand up. “Save your breath. I don’t normally get involved with the personal shit of band members. But this time I’m making an exception. Bands make me money, Ms. Mahoney. And yesterday my time was interrupted constantly having to field calls from each member of one of my top money-making bands. When they threaten to walk away from their contract because of being misrepresented by a manager who works for us, you better believe I’m going to listen. At first, I thought they were just blowing smoke up my ass, but as they presented their case, it appears you’re the one who’s all smoke and mirrors.”
I was stunned. I hadn’t known the extent to which the band was willing to go to support me.
Lauren sat up straight and did her best to look innocent, but on her, it was like a hooker trying to look like a nun. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s very simple,” Mark replied. “You lied and manipulated to push Drew and Emma apart, creating an unsavory work environment for the rest of the band members.”
It was hard not to smile at his diplomatic choice of words. Glancing discreetly, I saw the rest of the guys were biting their lip, too.
“I did not!”
Mark pinned Lauren with an icy glare. “Are you familiar with Paulo Santiago? Because when I spoke to him this morning, he said to thank you for the suggestion that he ask Ms. Harrington to work on an assignment with him. He said she was one of the best he’s ever worked with. However, he’s still waiting for the book contract with the band that you promised him in exchange for hiring her.”
I squirmed in my chair. At least I knew what I’d been traded for. Still, it sucked to confirm I wasn’t hired for my merit alone.
Mark looked at me, his expression amused. “He’s very arrogant, isn’t he? He informed me that he’s the only one good enough to write the band’s biography, and you’re the only one who should be allowed to photograph them.” I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at Mark’s bemusement that he had been told what he should do; he was a man obviously used to giving orders.
“Yes, he is, but he’s also probably right about the writing.”
“And the pictures,” Drew said, smiling at me.
Lauren sniffed, and I suspected she was trying not to stomp her feet in a tantrum. “Well, you certainly can’t hold me responsible for Paulo’s decision.”
Andy frowned. “But the band can. You negotiated something about us without our permission. That was in violation of your contract.”
“Ha! Managers make decisions every day without having to notify the band.”
“In some aspects,” Rick countered, “but not when it comes to our personal lives. You drove a dear friend away from us, promised confidential information about us to someone without our permission, and made false promises to a third party. You’ll be lucky if this Paulo guy doesn’t sue your ass.”
“You’ll be lucky if we don’t sue your ass,” Drew stated.
Lauren started to speak, but once again Mark stopped her. “I’d advise you not to say anything further since they’re right.” She snapped her mouth closed, her eyes shooting daggers at each of us. “And there’s the manner of stealing from one of the band members. You have the right to press charges for that, too, Drew, if you chose. The label will back you up.”
“What are you talking about?” Lauren shrieked.
Drew linked his fingers with mine, then lifted our joined hands to the table surface. His other played with the bracelet I’d given him that was finally back in its proper place. “I thought I’d lost this. I spent days turning everything upside down trying to find it. It’s extremely precious to me. I searched everywhere, the bus, my apartment, my car, my friend’s homes. But it never occurred to me to look for it in an envelope, sealed and addressed to Emma.”
“I found it. I knew it was something Emma had given to you, so I was returning it to her.”
“Save it, Lauren. If that were true, you could’ve just returned it to me. Playing stupid doesn’t suit you after all the conniving we’ve uncovered, including assaulting me with a kiss. We’ve already figured you saw Emma and used the opportunity to try to drive her away.”
Lauren let out an ugly laugh. “Oh, you liked it. Enough that you were more than willing to sleep with me.” She cast a satisfied look my way, obviously hoping to rattle me with new information.
I squeezed Drew’s hand. I knew how guilty and terrible he felt over that, so I answered for him. “Some places might consider crawling into a man’s bed while he’s drunk and taking advantage of him, especially if you were the one pouring him drinks all night, might be another form of assault. Taking all the fac
ts together, I don’t think you have much of a defense.”
“We’ll just see about all of this,” she snapped. “Everything is purely circumstantial, and anything I have or have not done has been with the band’s best chances at success.”
“Mark?” Drew lifted an eyebrow.
“Ms. Mahoney, I’ve already consulted with the Board of Directors. We no longer feel that you represent the best interests of either Southern Pleasure or Empire Records. You are to clear out your things immediately upon returning to New York. In cooperation with this, Southern Pleasure and Ms. Harrington have agreed not to pursue charges against you.”
Lauren stood, her eyes snapping at everyone seated at the table before she whirled around and stormed out the door.
“Well, that’s over,” Mark said, smiling for the first time since the conversation began.
All of the band members stood, also smiling. Ryan came around and grabbed me out of my chair, whirling me around, making me squeal.
As he put me down, he gently cuffed my cheek. “I hope this means you’ll be around more often.”
“She will be,” Drew answered, almost growling as he pulled me back into the circle of his arms.
“For what it’s worth, Emma,” Mark said, dropping all formality, “if this group doesn’t hire you as their official photographer, I’d be interested in giving your name to some of our other accounts.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Andy said. “We have some thoughts on that as well.” All of them grinned at me.
Drew stepped in front of me. “Emma, would you consider it? We understand that other opportunities might come up, and none of us want to hold you back or ask you to put us first. We’ll support you in every way we can. But we agree with Paulo, and there’s no one we trust more to capture Southern Pleasure on film.”
I didn’t even have to think about it. I knew what it was like to be separated from Drew and the rest of my friends, and it wasn’t an experience I wanted to repeat. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” I was instantly swallowed up by eight arms and massive masculine bodies. “Help!” I squeaked, and I was eventually released to just one set of very familiar arms.
Mark quietly snuck out, leaving the rest of us to celebrate. One by one, the guys left, too, anxious to fly back home.
“Let’s go home, too,” I said to Drew.
“Okay. I’ve got a need to get you into your bedroom.” His eyes and bulge under his zipper made it clear just what his need was.
“Well, then we’ll need some help finding it.”
He stared quizzically at me. “What do you mean?”
I clasped my arms around his waist. “When I said home, I meant home home. And I think it should be our bedroom, don’t you?”
He stared at me in disbelief, and my heart melted at the absolute joy that spread across his face. “Then absolutely yes, let’s go home.”
Epilogue
8 MONTHS LATER
“How are you doing, Raleigh? Are you ready to be pleasured?” Drew’s voice rang out through the stadium to a very enthusiastic crowd. The audience cheered even louder. My camera snapped pictures of both the band members and the fans as the opening chords to their first hit, “Believe,” filled in the air.
Being at my first major concert with the guys was thrilling. They’d taken eight months to rest after the accident, allowing time for a new manager to be assigned to them and to make new plans, as well as work on some new music. It also gave Drew time to fully recover. He was able to play the guitar with the same level of skill as before, much to his relief. I’d sold my house and moved back to North Carolina, where we rented a house together until we found something permanent.
This homecoming concert was kicking off a short tour to make up for the cancellations after the accident. In three days, we’d all be on the road, this time together.
The band played for most of the next hour and a half without taking a break except to interact on occasion with the audience. The guys were on fire, totally in their element and loving the responsive crowd.
“We’re going to slow it down for a few minutes,” Drew told them. A roadie brought out a stool and an acoustic guitar and handed it to Drew. He sat and strummed a few chords. “As you know, we lost two members of our band family several months ago.” Pictures of Courtney and Ernie, the driver, were lit on the back of the stage. “I’m pleased to tell you that all proceeds from this concert will be going to their families to help them out.” The fans cheered with whistles and hollers. “We know money can’t fill the hole in the hearts of those that loved them, but we hope it makes their lives easier in other ways. Additionally, Southern Pleasure and Empire Records will be donating money to start a scholarship in their names to assist underprivileged children with a passion for music to be able to have instruments and lessons.” The stadium went crazy, and Andy pumped his hand in the air. That had been his idea.
“Now,” Drew went on, “I want to share some good news we’ve had recently. That crazy guy behind the guitars found out he’s going to be a Daddy.” Rick beamed as he performed a short drum solo, then stood and threw his sticks into the audience.
Drew moved to the side of the stage where I was working. A spotlight followed him. “And right here, this beautiful woman agreed to be my wife last night.” The fans were on their feet, cheering and yelling congratulations. Embarrassed, I tried to hide in the shadows, but Drew reached down and pulled me forward for a kiss. He released me, then sauntered back to the stool. “She doesn’t know this, but we have a new song we’re going to perform for the first time tonight. And this song is all for her. It’s called, ‘Remember With Me.’”
I let the camera dangle from my neck as my hands covered my mouth in surprise. Drew angled himself to face me, then strummed a few chords before Rick set a soft percussion rhythm.
Drew began to sing.
The day was long, when night had come
We ended before we’d just begun
That night on that New England road
The picture darkened to forebode
Are we two?
Or just too much?
I don’t know who I was to be
Please, remember with me.
You came to me from a better past.
Words once said were held too fast.
Alone I was, a broken soul
Left on the Berkshire’s highway roll.
Are we two?
Or just too much?
I want you back, will you not see.
Please, baby, remember with me.
I can’t tell you what all went wrong
And so I write for you this song.
I want to be in your picture frame
More than wealth and more than fame
Are we two?
Or just too much?
In deepest love is there a key?
Baby, please, remember with me.
A flash of light, came to expose
The evil plot was then disposed
If I could recall, I would explain
But nothing of my thoughts remain
Are we two,
Or just too much?
You can make our future be
If only, baby, you will remember with me.
By the end of the first verse, tears streamed down my cheeks, and Drew’s eyes looked like they glistened, too. The fans were quiet as the song ended. Then they erupted into a roar of cheers and whistles. Someone took my arm, and I looked up to see a burly guy wearing a security badge smiling at me. He gestured for me to follow him, and then he helped me up on stage where Drew was waiting. The audience and their noise faded to the background as I ran to him. He caught me in his arms and kissed me.
Our road together might have had some bumps, and would likely have more in the future. But there would be so many more occasions like these, and I couldn’t wait for all the moments that we’d be able to look back and remember them – together.
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SIREN’S SONG
A novella by Maria Vickers
Chapter One
She swung her hips from side to side, giving them a little more sway now that she knew they were all watching her. Patience loved the attention, reveled in it. With her bright red hair and deep maroon lipstick covering her full lips, paired with the jade green dress that hugged her curves and showed off all of her assets, no one could keep their eyes off of her. Men or women. She beckoned to each and every one of them.
“Good crowd here tonight,” she commented to the bartender, Jodi, when she’d finally made her way through the throng of people.
“Of course. Did you really expect anything less? I run a high-class joint that everyone in the city flocks to.” Jodi smirked. In truth, the place was located down a darkened street in the middle of Deep Ellum at the heart of the entertainment district in Dallas, Texas. More dive bar than ritzy, the outside bespoke of nothing special. Blacked out windows lined a long brick building that was occupied by other bars and shops in addition to this one, but when you crossed over the threshold of Aria, the place was decorated to the nines. Purple lights with black furniture. The bar stood prominently in the middle of it all, and in the very back of the joint, a stage rose above the floor, allowing it to be seen from virtually every angle in the establishment. Tonight, one side spotlighted a baby grand piano, while the other remained empty, leaving space for something or someone else.
Most nights, the piano never made the light of day, but tonight was different…special. Tonight, the Siren of Texas—as she’d been dubbed—had come to sing and woo the patrons. When they knew she’d be there, occupancy more than doubled, and a line formed with people who wanted to get in, most knowing they’d only taste the bitterness of defeat because they had arrived too late. Those unlucky masses would only be able to hear the muffled sounds dulled by the closed door, but even that was better than not hearing her at all.