by Cat Schield
“Out of commission? What’s going on?”
“I’m going in for surgery on my vocal cords.”
“What? When did this come up?”
“I started noticing a problem on the tour, but we were so close to the end, and I didn’t want to cancel any shows.” In part because to do so meant shortening his time with Mia. Their relationship heated up a lot in the last two weeks and he wouldn’t have missed that for anything.
“This is serious. Why didn’t you say anything to me? Does Trent know?”
“I told him earlier today.”
“Is he taking you to the surgery appointment?”
“He’s out of town. I have a car scheduled. It’ll be fine.”
“No it won’t. I’ll get on a plane and be there to take you back to the hotel.”
“That’s not necessary. You need to stay in Vegas and work on your album. I’ve given you a deadline, remember?”
“A couple days isn’t going to matter one way or another.”
“Humor me.” Letting anyone baby him was not in his nature. “It’s outpatient surgery. I’ll be in and out in a few hours.”
“Why do you have to be so strong all the time? It wouldn’t kill you to accept help once in a while.” Melody let loose an exasperated sigh. “You are so stubborn.”
After a childhood spent bouncing from one backwater town to another, Nate had learned to take care of himself. Sometimes his dad would be gone for months, sent all over the country to whatever oil fields needed his expertise the most. If the job required an extended stay, he might bring Nate and his mom along. Nate’s dad never cared if this meant his son had to fit in at a new school or that his wife would have to take whatever job she could to make ends meet.
“I could say the same of you.” Nate knew of only one way to get Melody off this particular subject. “How are things between you and Kyle? Have you talked yet?”
“Did you know that Trent hired Hunter to DJ twice a month at Club T’s?”
“He mentioned something about it. I told him it was a bad idea.”
Hunter Graves was Melody’s ex-boyfriend. Several months ago he and Melody had run into each other in a New York City club. As they were leaving, to keep from getting separated while passing through the raucous crowd outside, Hunter had taken Melody’s hand as they headed to a waiting car. The paparazzi had snapped several pictures of the couple and the media had ruthlessly promoted its theory that the former lovers had reunited.
Back home, while Kyle hadn’t really believed Melody was cheating on him, he hadn’t appreciated seeing the woman he loved hand in hand with her ex. And the months of separation had created tension for the couple, making Kyle even more reactive.
Melody sighed in Nate’s ear. “And to answer your earlier question, Kyle and I have exchanged several texts, but we haven’t sat down to talk.”
“Don’t you think that should happen soon?”
“I’m afraid if we have the talk we’ll just end up fighting and the subject of us being over will come up.”
“Kyle hasn’t come to Las Vegas and taken over temporary management of Club T’s because he’s ready to give up on you two.”
“He’s here because Trent’s in LA with Savannah and the club needs a manager.” Melody’s voice had a ragged quality that tore at Nate’s heart. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I really hope you’re right about him, but I can’t stop feeling like he’s going to use what’s happened between us since that photo came out to rationalize that we’re not really meant to be together.”
“He’s not going to do that,” Nate said. “Especially after he finds out what’s really going on.”
“What do you mean by that?” Melody sounded more wary than confused.
“You forget how hard it is to keep secrets on tours.”
“You and Mia managed.”
“That’s because the only one we had to keep in the dark was Ivy, and in general she’s so preoccupied with herself that she isn’t sensitive to what’s going on around her.” Nate circled back to Melody’s problem. “When are you going to tell Kyle he’s going to be a father?”
“Damn. Who else knows?”
“Both Dan and Mike commented that you were looking a bit off and mentioned that their wives had both been sick like that when they were pregnant.”
“Why did they tell you?”
“Because you’re like my little sister and I’ve made it pretty clear all along that anyone who messed with you would get their ass kicked by me.”
Melody huffed out of a breath. “I can take care of myself.”
“Aww, that’s cute,” he mocked. “But you really can’t. You are too sweet for your own good and people take advantage of that.”
The same could be said of Mia. And his mother. Nate recognized he had a pattern when it came to women. He didn’t actively seek out those most in need of protecting, but he did tend to gravitate to the ones who had a hard time sticking up for themselves.
“And you don’t let anyone take care of you,” Melody countered. “Case in point, tomorrow’s surgery.”
“Okay, we’ve both poked at each other’s shortcomings long enough,” Nate said with a laugh. “I’ll shoot you a text tomorrow after it’s done and let you know how it went.”
“I’m not kidding about coming to LA to sit at your bedside.”
“And I appreciate the offer, but I’d rather you take care of things there.” He paused before delivering his final bit of advice. “Talk to Kyle. He’s going to be thrilled.”
“I will. Good luck tomorrow.”
“Thanks.”
After talking with Melody, Nate made a reservation for four at WP24, Wolfgang Puck’s contemporary Asian restaurant on the twenty-fourth floor of the Ritz-Carlton. He selected this particular restaurant knowing Mia would love the downtown LA views and the blackberry soufflé with key lime ice cream for dessert. Once that was done, he texted her the details and then headed to grab a late lunch with his former buddy whose music career had nosedived six years ago, thanks to a drug problem, but who was making a small comeback.
Nate didn’t return to his hotel until nearly six. He spent the time before dinner Skyping with his mother and letting her know in rapid ASL about the surgery the following day. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about being able to communicate with her over the next two to three weeks while he was on total voice rest. If only the rest of his clients understood sign language, he might be able to maintain his work schedule with barely a hitch.
At a little before eight, Nate stepped off the elevator on the twenty-fourth floor of the Ritz-Carlton and approached the hostess. His pulse kicked up as he looked around for Mia, but he didn’t see her or her family. The hostess confirmed they’d not yet arrived, and escorted him to a table by the windows. When the waiter arrived, Nate ordered a vodka on the rocks with a twist of lime. Normally he’d wait until his party showed up, but he expected Mia and her family to be late and they didn’t disappoint them. What he hadn’t expected, however, was Mia’s absence.
Nate stood as Ivy approached. She wore a strapless emerald dress that clung to her slim body and brought out the gold flecks in her brown eyes. Her five-inch heels put a sexy sway in her stride.
“Nate,” she cried in delight as if they were the best of friends. “It’s so wonderful to see you.”
They hadn’t gotten along particularly well on the tour. She’d made demands on everyone from the roadies to the tour manager, and some of her requests had been ridiculous. The amount of time Nate had spent running interference hadn’t sat well with him. And he had a particular distaste for how she treated Mia.
“Hello, Ivy,” he said, pushing down his annoyance at how he’d been stood up earlier. “Good evening, Javier.” He reached out his hand to Ivy’s father, a handsome dark-haired man traili
ng in the pop star’s wake. One member of the party was missing. “I made the reservation for four. Will Mia be joining us?”
Ivy settled into the chair beside his. “She wanted to come, but what’s the point?”
The annoyance that flared in his gut was familiar. Everything about this spoiled narcissistic brat made him long to hand off her album project to another producer, but his whole purpose in working with Ivy was to have time with Mia.
“The point is I invited her.”
“I thought the point of this meeting tonight was to discuss Ivy’s album,” Javier said, coming down on his daughter’s side. “Mia’s presence is unnecessary.”
“Of course.” Giving in was exceedingly painful. Nate could only imagine the conversation that had kept Mia away, and his heart ached that she’d received yet another slight from the people who should have had her best interests in mind.
The waiter approached before Nate could say anything more. Ivy ordered champagne and Javier ordered a gin and tonic.
“I’ve heard the food here is quite good,” Javier said.
Ivy rolled her eyes. “If you like Asian.”
Nate was pretty certain no matter which restaurant he’d chosen Ivy would’ve found something wrong with it.
Without Mia’s presence, Nate had no desire to linger over the meal. As soon as they’d ordered he cut straight to business. “I have some ideas for how to proceed with your new album.”
“I want to go in a completely different direction,” Ivy said, cutting him off before she even heard what he had to say. “I’m not going to write my own music this time. I’d like to record some of Melody Caldwell’s music. I heard what she was working on during the tour and I think it suits me.”
While Nate agreed, he was dismayed that Ivy had no plans to record her sister’s songs. Few people knew Ivy didn’t write any of her own music but claimed credit for what Mia composed. Nate had discovered this during the tour and couldn’t believe Mia let her sister get away with it. He suspected that part of the reason Mia stayed with Ivy and acted as her assistant was to have her music heard by millions. Did Mia know that Ivy was cutting her out? Would this at last be the catalyst that encouraged Mia to sever the bonds with her sister and strike out on her own?
“I can see if Melody would be open to working with you.”
“Why wouldn’t she?” Javier demanded. “Having Ivy Bliss record her songs would be a good career move for her.”
“Currently Melody is working on an album of her own. A song list hasn’t been finalized and I can’t promise what will be available for you until that happens.”
“I have several songs I’m interested in. I’ll have Mia send her a list in the morning. I’m sure Melody will understand that I can do them justice.”
“Perhaps you and Melody could collaborate on some new stuff,” Nate suggested, hoping the offer made Ivy squirm. “I’ve worked with her on several songs she’s recorded. I think you two would enjoy collaborating.”
He smiled through the patent lie. If Melody caught wind of what he’d just offered, she’d probably kill him. Nate doubted anyone on the planet enjoyed working with Ivy Bliss.
“I’m afraid my daughter will be too busy to write any music this year. This afternoon she signed a deal to become the new face of Mayfair Cosmetics. This will entail many media appearances beginning a month from now. We’d like to get in and get her album recorded as soon as possible.”
So they expected him to clear his schedule? Nate wasn’t surprised. And he would not be bullied. “I’m afraid the next month will not be good for me. Let’s look at something after the first of the year?”
“Ivy is doing a movie in January.”
Once again Nate reminded himself that the reason he’d agreed to produce the album was to have time with Mia. And then something occurred to him. It was brilliant, and he kicked himself for not coming up with it sooner.
His lips slid into a genuine smile. “Perhaps we could work something out. I’ll need to rearrange my schedule and would appreciate having Mia’s help to pull it off.”
“Mia’s help?” Ivy frowned. “What could she possibly do for you?”
“She understands sign language, doesn’t she? I could use her as a translator.”
Javier frowned. “A translator?”
“I’m going in for vocal cord surgery tomorrow and won’t be able to speak for at least three weeks. I can sign and Mia can relay my instructions.”
“Couldn’t you find someone else to help with that?” Ivy demanded. “An actual interpreter?”
No one else but Mia would do. “Mia knows the music industry and will understand what I’m saying.”
“Daddy?” Ivy’s dismay was palpable.
Nate fixed Javier with a flat stare. “Surely you can spare her for a month if it means getting Ivy’s album done.”
Javier glanced at his daughter. “W-well,” he stammered. “Of course. If that’s what we need to do.”
Nate gave a satisfied nod. “It absolutely is.”
* * *
Mia sat in a chair beside the window of her bedroom in Ivy’s house and stared at the front lawn. An hour earlier she’d watched her father’s Mercedes retreat down the driveway, and still couldn’t believe that she’d been forced to stay behind. More than ever her role as Ivy’s personal assistant grated on her.
Though Mia felt trapped by her responsibility to Ivy, she knew that her sister carried an even heavier burden: the weight of their parents’ expectations. Mia barely remembered a time when her sister didn’t sing. She recalled their modest house in San Diego, where the twins had shared a bedroom with their older sister, Eva. Their mother had homeschooled all three girls, which offered the flexibility for Ivy to audition anytime an opportunity presented itself. And their parents were able to buy a bigger house when Ivy signed a contract for a new TV show on the KidZ Channel. While she wasn’t the star, in the show’s four-year run Ivy had demonstrated star potential, which had led to her landing a role in a Broadway musical and eventually a record deal with West Coast Records.
With each rise in her career, the family home got bigger and better. Their father had quit his job with the post office to manage Ivy when she signed with KidZ Channel. Ivy became his whole focus.
Which brought Mia to tonight, and the business meeting her father and sister were attending with Nate. And just as her presence hadn’t been needed at the Mayfair Cosmetics meeting earlier that day, Mia wasn’t included now.
She wondered if Nate’s choice of WP24 had been for her benefit. She’d mentioned how she’d always wanted to try the restaurant, but that had been a couple months ago. Had Nate remembered?
Mia’s stomach grumbled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten anything since noon. Even though her appetite was nonexistent, her body still needed fuel. Time to stop brooding and scrounge up something for dinner. Ivy’s housekeeper usually cooked some chicken in case Ivy felt like supplementing her junk food diet with something healthy.
After pulling out the fixings for a salad and chopping up a chicken breast, Mia splurged with an extra tablespoon of ranch dressing. Too bad she gained weight simply by looking at French fries. As she headed into the den to watch some TV and hopefully take her mind off what was going on at WP24, she reminded herself that Nate had appreciated her full breasts, small waist and round hips.
Both Mia and Eva took after their mother with their dark brown hair and eyes, pale skin and curvy bodies. Ivy was built like their dad, lean and sinewy, but she had their mother’s hazel eyes, smoldering charm and singing ability. Sharon Bliss had been an opera singer in her youth, but happily traded a career on the stage for being a wife and mother when she got pregnant with Eva.
Mia had barely sat down when her cell phone rang. She smiled when she saw that the caller was Melody. “I feel as if I haven’t talked
to you in ages. How are you doing?” she said by way of greeting.
“I’m doing great. Working on my album.”
“How many songs are you up to now?”
Melody was a prolific songwriter with a powerful voice and distaste for the spotlight. The two women had become close while on tour. Mia didn’t realize how much she missed having a friend until she and Melody had clicked.
“I don’t know,” Melody said. “Maybe around fifty. They’re not all good, but many of my favorites are the ones with the biggest flaws. How am I supposed to choose between them?”
“I know the feeling. Some of my best stuff will never be heard.” Until she’d gone on tour, only her family knew that she—and not Ivy—was the author of Ivy’s hit tunes. Then she’d met Nate and Melody, and both of them had figured out her secret. Or maybe she hadn’t tried very hard to conceal it. Both were such talented songwriters that Mia couldn’t resist the urge to talk to them about their process.
To preserve the illusion that Ivy was writing her own songs, Mia was always careful to work when no one was around. But sometimes a tune got into her head and she caught herself humming it. The same thing happened with lyrics. It was why she always carried around her journal.
The notebook contained bits and pieces of songs and snippets of lyrics. It also included doodles and miscellaneous thoughts. She filled one every six months or so.
“Nate could help you with that. I’m sure he’d be happy to work up some demos with you that you could shop around the industry. You never know what might get picked up.”
“Actually, he’s already offered.”
“And what are you waiting for?”
Mia hadn’t explained to anyone the real reason she stayed at her sister’s side despite the way she was treated like hired help instead of family. It wasn’t Mia’s story to tell and she knew neither Ivy nor her parents would appreciate the information getting out. Not that Melody or Nate couldn’t be trusted with yet another of her secrets.