“No one should ever tell you you look old,” Rick reassured her.
His hands moved on her body, slightly repositioning himself as if he were building his nerve. It wouldn’t be too much longer, Ember predicted. Any moment now and he’ll loosen his embrace just enough to touch her cheek, and then he’d try to kiss her again and she’d let him prove she was still desirable.
“Why don’t we sit down at that table and you tell me what happened?” Rick suggested.
Ember felt a stab of mortification that Rick wasn’t going to take advantage of her. Fawn was right! She was too old. Rick wasn’t embarrassed about trying to kiss her last week. He was disgusted because he found her so revolting. She pulled away and stumbled back a step.
Then she caught a look at Rick’s face and froze.
Even in her current state of self-loathing, there was no way she could convince herself that there was disgust in Rick’s expression. Concern? Yes. Compassion? Certainly. But there was also something much harder to define. Ember had had a boyfriend when she was fifteen-years-old who’d looked at her like that. It was the same look she used to catch on her husband’s face when they first started dating. It was…unnerving to see it on another face now.
She realized suddenly that Rick was holding her hand. Her heart skipped a beat. His fingers were so warm and comfortable. He stepped close against her again, reached around her body and pulled out a chair so she could sit.
Somehow, Ember didn’t feel rejected this time.
Rick let go of her hand and claimed the chair across the table from her. A professional distance if someone were to peek into the room.
He looked around, found a box of tissues, and handed it to her. “Here, why don’t you blow your nose and take a minute to pull yourself together. Then you can tell me all about it. I can be a good listener.”
The smile on his face was gentle and encouraging, not the trademark cocky grin he liked to flash on stage.
Ember blew her nose and began to regain her composure—enough of herself to feel embarrassed by her breakdown. “This was very kind of you, Rick, but I’m okay now. Really. Fawn just took me by surprise. You can go back to the others. You don’t have to sit here with me.”
He made no move to get up. “Oh, I like sitting with you, Ember. You know, sometimes life hits you out of the blue. We’ve all been there at one time or other. I don’t know what Fawn said to get under your skin like this, but please consider the source. Fawn Fields is not Ember Blaze or even Mitch Daniels. She’s not even the sweet judge anymore. She’s the dopey one.”
Ember froze a moment, wondering if Rick had heard or figured out that Fawn was using coke again, but quickly came to the conclusion that he really meant Fawn was an airhead.
“Nobody even understands what she’s going on about half the time. And if she can’t make sense talking about music, how is she supposed to know anything about anything else.”
Ember found a smile forming on her face. “That’s pretty funny,” she admitted.
“I’m not the only one who thinks that,” Rick said. “All the contestants joke about how Fawn has lost it. Mitch scares the hell out of people. You challenge and encourage them. Fawn…well, no one can quite figure out what Fawn is doing. We just try and listen to her comments and not break out laughing.”
Ember felt her smile growing broader as she responded. “It would kill Fawn to hear you say that, but honestly, I have to agree with you. The things that come out of that woman’s mouth…”
“And that’s why you can’t let her get to you,” Rick said. “If she seems to make sense, it has to be an accident. What’s that thing they say about monkeys and word processors?”
Ember laughed outright. She didn’t feel so bad anymore.
She tried to answer his question. “If you put enough monkeys in front of a keyboard, the laws of chance says that one will eventually type out Hamlet or something like that.”
Rick was obviously enjoying himself too. “And what that means in our situation is that the laws of chance insist that Fawn will appear to make sense once in a while, even if she still doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
Ember laughed harder.
“This is what I needed to hear, Rick. Thank you.”
They were still laughing when Gina Hartley ducked her head into the room. “Oh, Ember, Fawn was right. You are down here. Fox wants to give the judges a pep talk before the show tonight.”
Her eyes shifted to Rick, but with the table between them there was nothing even slightly inappropriate for her to pick up on. “How are you, Rick? I think I heard the call for you contestants to get to wardrobe.”
“Thanks, Gina,” Rick said as he got to his feet. “And thanks Ember, I really appreciate the tips you’re giving me. Zach Donderhue was saying the same thing earlier. Everybody knows it. You’re the judge who really cares.”
Ember got to her feet. She had her equilibrium back—thanks to Rick—and felt ready to do the show. She could hear the usual pep in her voice as she called out after him. “I’ve got one more piece of advice, if you’d like to hear it.”
Rick immediately turned back to face her.
“Since you’re going to wardrobe anyway, why don’t you ask them to find you a new shirt?”
Gina Hartley nodded emphatically. “She’s right, Rick. That shirt is a loser! Get something that shows your chest off a little.”
Ember laughed. “That’s right! Give your female fans a treat tonight.”
Rick looked down at his shirt. “But…”
“Trust us on this one, Rick,” Ember told him.
He looked up and met her eyes again. His baby blues were beautiful, even without his smile to brighten them. “If you really think so, Ember. I guess if I’m going to take your advice on singing, I should take it on wardrobe as well.” Rick still looked dubious as he walked out of the room.
“Boy, is that young man hot!” Gina whispered. “If Fox hadn’t laid down the law this year, I think I’d be looking to give him some private direction.”
Ember’s chest clenched in apprehension. She didn’t like the idea of the younger Gina Hartley giving Rick a little private tutoring. Fortunately Fox’s assistant was too preoccupied with Rick to notice Ember’s reaction. She caught the door as it swung closed and leaned slightly into the hall to watch Rick walk away.
“He’s got some talent too,” Ember told her. “He just may be on the outside track to winning this thing.”
She followed Gina into the hall trying not to think about the look of adoration she’d seen on Rick’s face.
“Well, the best that I can say is that you’re dressing better,” Mitch said.
Rick was getting better at taking Mitch’s criticisms because his smile actually broadened. “Well, that’s something! Mitch Daniels just complimented me.”
Mitch didn’t share in Rick’s amusement. “Well, I’m glad you can find some humor in this, because honestly, Rick, I don’t see anything funny about your situation. I mean, you’re a nice kid, but this is the big leagues and you’re only ready for a high school team.”
“Ember?” Jonathan King asked.
“I don’t suppose it will come as a surprise to anyone that Mitch and I don’t see eye-to-eye on this,” Ember said. “Rick, I do think your overall performance is improving. It’s not just the clothes—although they help. You also have more poise and self-confidence—”
“All of that is very nice, Ember,” Mitch cut in, “but when we cut away all the bells and whistles, this is still a singing contest and on that criteria, Rick simply isn’t doing as well as his fellow competitors.”
“I don’t agree,” Ember said. “While he’s not the strongest singer we’ve heard tonight, there were at least three and maybe four performances that were clearly more deficient.”
Mitch actually half-conceded her point. “One or two, perhaps, but I think they should go home as well.”
“How do you weigh in on this Fawn?” King asked.
&
nbsp; Fawn shook herself as if she’d been on the verge of drowsing on the stage. “What? Oh? I, I think I agree with Mitch this time.”
Dead silence crashed across the theater and Rick’s smile fell with it.
Fawn’s atypical comment clearly startled King as well. “What? Did I hear you correctly? You agree with Mitch on something?”
Fawn glared at him, defiance etched deeply across her face. “Yes,” she insisted. “You did! Rick just isn’t performing as strongly as I think he should be.” Her defiant expression cracked for a moment, leaving her looking uncertainly at the stage. Then she seemed to recollect what she was doing and turned to glare triumphantly at Ember. She looked so childish that Ember half expected her to stick out her tongue.
“Wow,” King said. “Fawn didn’t like a performance. Now we’ve seen everything.”
Week Six
“Good morning, George,” Ember said as the uniformed man opened the front doors to the Atwood Building and greeted her. “You look especially chipper today.”
George smiled that look that mature fans often got when they caught sight of her—as if they were not only seeing Ember as she was now but were also remembering excellent moments in the past that they associated with her music. “I’m sure it’s just the pleasure of seeing you, Ms. Blaze,” George told her.
Ember stopped to give George more of her attention, fully aware that the paparazzi were continuing to snap pictures as the door swung closed. “That was a really sweet thing to say. Does Fox pay you extra to put the judges in a good mood before the photo shoot?”
George’s smile broke into a full-fledged laugh. “No, Ma’am! You inspire the complements naturally. You just have a way of brightening up a day.”
Sometimes life is just good. Ember had felt a little bit apprehensive about coming today after that nonsense with Fawn last week, but George had just put her completely at ease again. She leaned forward and gave him a little half hug. “Well, thank you! You brighten up the day too.”
The surprise on George’s face was a delight to see. “Thank you, Ms. Blaze!”
“Hey, Ember, how do you know George?” one of the paparazzi called out.
The questions some people would ask always surprised Ember. “Everybody knows, George. He’s been the doorman here for all three seasons of Rock Idol.”
The paparazzi surged closer but Ember didn’t have time to hold a lengthy conversation. “I’d better get up to my dressing room and let Hans work his magic. I’d hate to hold up the shoot,” she told them. Holding up the shoot was something a diva would do, and in rebuilding her reputation, Ember had always been careful to avoid the negative aspects of being termed a diva.
“You don’t have to hurry too much. Mr. Daniels isn’t here yet,” George informed her.
Ember flashed him another smile as she walked into the building. “Men never seem to need as much time in makeup as women do. Is Fawn here?”
George’s face lost some of its good spirits. “I did see Ms. Fields arrive about twenty minutes ago.”
Ember wanted to ask him why he suddenly looked less happy, but there was no way to do that in front of the paparazzi. Still, she wondered what was up. Was the sweet judge being nasty to the hired help?
“Gina! Where the hell is Fawn?” Fox snapped.
Gina Hartley’s head whipped around, anger and confusion warring for control of her face. “She should be here already, Mr. Atwood. Her makeup was done and she said she’d be right behind me when I checked on her fifteen minutes ago.”
Gina’s explanation only seemed to add to Fox’s irritation. “Well, go find her again and this time, hold her hand so she doesn’t get lost on the way here!”
Ember stopped herself from shaking her head as she wondered if Fawn had been delayed by the need for one more quick snort of cocaine. She didn’t want to get involved in that. Fawn was Fox’s problem, and even though she was sure Fawn needed help, Ember wasn’t going to be the one to rat her out and get her fired.
She noticed little Kim Ryan approaching her from across the room, sporting her new outfit. Six weeks into the season, the show traditionally worked to jazz up the contestants’ appearance to make them look more professional. It was a big media event and the show would push hard with interviews and advertising campaigns to highlight the changes. To Ember’s eye, it had been pretty successful.
Kim was the fifteen-year-old contestant, a little waif of a girl who used to dress like she was planning to sing in church. Now wardrobe had given her a sexy little number that showed off her midriff and most of her thighs. It was analogous to the sort of outfits Ember had worn when she was that age, although Kim hadn’t yet developed the breasts that would make it most effective.
This time Ember did shake her head. She wondered how long it would be before Kim’s handlers started pushing her to get a boob job. The girl hadn’t finished coming through puberty yet, but that wouldn’t stop the sharks from nagging her to interfere with nature. Sometimes, Ember didn’t like this business at all.
She pushed the negative thoughts to the back of her mind. “Kim, you look so cute with your hair done that way.” Kim had started the season with fairly long blond hair. Now it was cut and shaped so that curls accentuated her face.
Kim curled one of her new locks around her finger and seemed uncomfortable when she had to stop because her hair was eight inches shorter than it had been. “Thanks, Ember. It’s going to take a little getting used to, but everybody tells me the new look suits me.”
“It does suit you, Kim,” Ember assured her.
“I hope so because this,” she indicated her new, much abbreviated garments, “is a little disorienting. I mean, why didn’t they just put me in a bikini? Mitch keeps telling us that this is a singing competition, but dressed like this I feel like I’m going to be a calendar girl.”
Ember couldn’t help laughing. “It all goes together, Kim. Strong vocals is the foundation of every great singing career, but to make it you still have to connect with the fans. Look and style helps you do that.”
Kim wasn’t a Hillary Tempest. There was no way she was going to flat out disagree with Ember. But she still looked unhappy in her new wardrobe.
Ember gave her a little hug. “You’re going to be great! Have you seen pictures of me at your age? You’re almost overdressed by comparison.” It was an exaggeration to be sure, but the words seemed to put Kim more at ease.
Over the girl’s shoulder, Ember caught sight of Rick standing with his roommate, Zach Donderhue, and a memory of a little inappropriate fantasy she’d enjoyed flashed through her brain.
She’d been relaxing in her tub back in New York City, soaking in the hot bubble bath. She’d started out wondering what had happened to Darrel Brown, her first serious boyfriend back when she was just fifteen. But somehow the face in her memories had morphed into Rick’s and it was his lips on hers and his strong hands searching her body. He didn’t fumble like Darrel had—not that he was overly skilled either. No, he’d purposefully kissed his way from her breasts to her stomach to the moist swollen lips Ember had been touching under the water...
A shiver of remembered pleasure worked its way up her spine and she looked around guiltily, hoping no one had notice. Across the room, Rick was still talking with Zach. Both men looked great, but Ember couldn’t help thinking that Rick outshone his friend. He had kept the open shirt look which had worked for him so well last week, but Fox had expanded the size of the wardrobe expense account this week and it really made a difference, lifting Rick to whole new level of hot and sexy.
She made herself professionally appraise Zach as well. His chest wasn’t showing and he had a little too much sparkle in his clothing for Ember’s taste, but he, too, looked professional enough to jump out on a stage as a front line act on a concert tour.
Rick caught her eye and smiled. It wasn’t the cocky expression that millions of women across the country had fallen in love with, but a warmer look which suggested he was genuinely happy to see h
er. An answering smile blossomed on her face as her whole body began to tingle. She hoped no one noticed. She didn’t want to make a fool of herself.
Rick said something to Zach and both men crossed the room to her.
“Ember, you look fabulous!” Rick greeted her before starting to kiss her on the cheek.
“Watch the makeup,” Ember warned him. “Hans will kill you if you make him touch it up again.”
Both Zach and Rick laughed at her little joke, and both contented themselves with shaking her hand.
“I didn’t think it was possible, but this photo shoot feels even more chaotic than last time,” Zach said.
Last time they had done this they had the whole Rock Idol cast together. Now they were five contestants smaller, but the frenzy of energy remained just as great. “Nature of the beast,” Ember told him. “If it’s not high energy, it’s not Hollywood.”
Rick shifted the conversation in a more personal direction. “How have you been?” From the serious look in his eye, Ember figured he wanted to add I’ve been worried about you but was trying to be discreet since Zach was with them.
The notion appealed to her. She really liked the idea that Rick had been thinking of her just like she’d been thinking of him. She remembered touching herself in the bath again. Well, maybe he hadn’t been thinking about her just like she’d been thinking of him. But…what if he had?
Suddenly feeling flustered, Ember tried to answer Rick’s question and reassure him without letting Zach know that she and Fawn had a fight before the last show. “I thought I was coming down with a bug last week, but I was wrong. I feel good! Thanks for asking.”
From the way his eyes continued to scrutinize her face, Ember wasn’t certain that Rick believed her, but his words pretended he did. “That’s good! We can’ t have the best judge off her game. What would we do if all America heard was Mitch Daniels’ derision and Fawn’s—whatever it is that Fawn says.”
Zach started to laugh, but a sudden unanticipated comment from Hillary Tempest cut him off.
Rock Idol (Reality With a Twist Series) Page 5