Nashville Boxed Set #1-3

by Bethany Michaels

  "Why?" I asked, genuinely confused.

  "Why? Because sex sells. And you two—" Rayna fanned herself with one of the newspapers. "—are hot. It's a wonder people in the front row last night didn’t come away with third degree burns. People love a hook-up between two hot young celebrities. They eat it up. Why do you think tabloids sell so many copies?"

  "Oh." The picture was too raw, too truthful. Any photo of me that had ever been released to the press had been crafted to fit my carefully cultivated public image. This was the opposite of that good-girl image. This was good-girl-in-heat. No wonder the public liked it so much.

  "We have to run with this while it’s hot. I've already booked you for two appearances today here in Memphis. And I have a conference call with the label in about 15 minutes to discuss strategy and how fast we can record that duet so it’ll be on itunes iTunes in time to hit the lists."

  There was another knock at the door. "That'll be Shay," Rayna said. “I asked him to come by so we could go over a few things.”

  I was in Hell. Pure Hell. Our first face-to-face after what we’d shared would be in front of Daddy and a PR professional determined to milk it for all it was worth.

  Daddy got up to open the door for Shay and Rayna leaned in. "Are you two really hooking up?" she asked in a whisper.

  "What?"

  She waved away the question. "It doesn't matter. Doesn't matter. The perception is there and that's enough."

  Daddy returned with Shay in tow. His bloodshot eyes said he’d gotten as little sleep as I had. His hair was tousled as if he'd showered and let it dry without combing it, his hard jaw was lightly covered with beard stubble and his button-down shirt was open to mid-chest. Why was it that guys got sexier when they looked all messy and girls just looked…messy?

  "Have a seat, Rogan." He glared down at Shay with an expression I thought he would’ve used on dates that had come to my house as a teen. If I'd had time for dating, that is. "Seems like you don’t know how to follow directions."

  A look passed between the two men—Daddy’s angry and Shay’s a little bit sheepish.

  Daddy pushed the newspaper towards Shay.

  After looking at the photo for a long moment, a slow grin spread across his face. His eyes met mine. “Robert said we needed to show the public we were getting along. I’d say this about proves it.” He folded the paper and stuck it in the back pocket of his jeans then scooted into the bench seat next to me.

  “This doesn’t bother you at all?” I poured him a cup of coffee and slid it over to him.

  “Why should it?”

  "This is the best thing that could have happened for the tour," Rayna said. “You and Shay are trending on all the major news and entertainment outlets.” She stared at her phone, scrolling through messages. “And you now have your own hashtag. #MichShaykiss. This is a good thing.”

  "Maybe. Maybe not. Things like this up a guy's stud factor. If a woman does the same thing, she's a slut. What if the fans turn on me?"

  Shay stretched his arm across the seat behind me. "I think you're getting all riled up over nothing."

  "Does the name 'Dixie Chicks' mean anything? One comment about the President and they were blacklisted from country radio."

  "And their next record went gold within a week of release, without radio's support." Rayna was still scrolling through messages on her phone.

  "Maybe this is nothing to you, Shay, but I have a resp — -- "

  "I know, I know," he said, frowning. "You have a responsibility to the people who work for you. Jesus, Michelle, doesn't it ever get old feeling like you have to hold the whole world on your shoulders?"

  That one hit a little too close to home. "Doesn't it ever get old not being responsible to anyone, ever?"

  “All right you two. What’s done is done. The question is how do we move forward?” Daddy leaned in, his elbows on the table, and glared at Shay.

  Rayna nodded. “Exactly what I was thinking. What’s our next move?”

  That was the question in my mind, too. I turned to Shay and raised an eyebrow.

  “I think we should do more duets.” He grinned at me, his gaze focusing on my lips.

  Despite my irritation at this whole situation Shay had gotten us in to, my body heated at the memory of his kiss.

  “Agreed. That was good stuff.” Rayna had her phone out again and was tapping notes as fast as her fingers could fly. “I’m going to tip off some of the paparazzi. Make sure they get the shots of the two of you together.”

  “There are shots?”

  “There will be. They’re going to be taken at the swanky private party you just got invited to after tomorrow night’s concert in Chicago.”

  Shay and I looked at each other.

  “You’re welcome.” Rayna was tapping on her phone again.

  “Now wait a minute, here, Rayna. I don’t think—”

  “We’ve got to roll with this, Gordon.” Rayna put down her phone and covered Daddy’s hand with hers. “It’ll be fine. A few photos just to confirm they’re a couple. I’ll leak them a few at time to keep people guessing.”

  I stared at their hands for a moment, my mind blanking out. Daddy’s expression had softened a little when he looked at Rayna. Were they…no. No way. I shook my head. “We’re not a couple,” I said. “That was just — -- ”

  “Inevitable.” Rayna slid out of the booth. “Chemistry. Just like I said.” She headed for the door. “And it doesn’t matter whether you’re a couple or you’re not. Your fans think you are and they’ll tweet, blog and IM about it and then they’ll go buy tickets to your concerts just to see for themselves.”

  After Rayna left, the three of us just sat there for a moment. Daddy looked like he wanted to punch someone, probably Shay. Shay looked like he’d just scored the winning touchdown in the Superbowl, and then been tackled by a gaggle of Victoria’s Secret models.

  I’m sure I just looked bewildered by the whole thing. On one hand, what Rayna proposed made sense. We weren’t a couple in the real sense of the word, but that kiss on stage had made everyone believe we were. What was the harm in using that to sell a few tickets?

  On the other hand, that photo was just too … …. real. I felt naked looking at it. All my emotions might as well have been printed in the side bar because anyone who looked at the photo could tell that at that moment Shay and I had been completely and totally wrapped up in each other. What if the photographers captured more than I cared to share in these staged photos Rayna had suggested? Like the fact I couldn’t think about anything more than Shay, hot, hard and naked?

  Shay finished his coffee and gave my shoulder a quick squeeze before sliding out of the booth. “I think I’m going to go catch a few more Z’s. Looks like you and me have some late-night work ahead of us.”

  Chapter Nine

  Crowds of country music fans already lined the sidewalk outside Blue Suede Music when Shay and Michelle pulled up in the car service’s Lexus. Some of the younger female fans held up signs emblazoned with Shay's picture. Others grasped CDs, mostly Shay's but a few of Michelle's, too.

  Shay glanced at Michelle, sitting next to him in the car. Rayna was on the other side of Michelle and Gordon had shotgun. Michelle was in full make-up and her honey blond hair hung in golden waves down her back. She looked good, but Shay couldn’t help but fantasize about her looking like she had after he’d kissed her on stage—a hot mess with a take-me-now glint in her eye.

  Gordon was glaring at Shay in the vanity mirror with a look that said he'd better not lay a hand on his little girl. Shay just grinned at him and put his hand on Michelle’s knee. Robert had whole-heartedly agreed with Rayna’s plan to promote them as a couple and there wasn’t a damn thing Gordon could do about it. This was going to be fun.

  "Ok, now remember Shay," Rayna said. "You two are a couple. Hold her hand, smile at her. Hold her chair for her. Treat her like she's your best girl and you can hardly keep your eyes off her."

  “Yes, Ma’am. I’ll
do my best.” It shouldn't be hard since he couldn't quit looking at her, remembering the way she felt in his arms. He'd thought of little else.

  “I still don’t like this,” Gordon said, staring at Shay’s hand on her knee. “Are you sure you want to do this, Michelle? I can call Robert and—”

  “I’ll be fine.” Michelle shifted in her seat, but didn’t comment on Shay’s touch. “This is business. It’s for the tour.”

  “I still don’t like it.”

  “They’ll be in public, Gordon. And it’s not like she’s some virginal young 15-year old anymore.”

  Gordon blinked at Rayna for a moment as if he’d never considered that his daughter was anything other than a virginal 15-year old. Then he glared at Shay, but didn’t say anything else.

  The car rolled to a stop.

  “It’ll be fine, Gordon. You’ll see.” Rayna put her hand on Gordon’s shoulder like they were two parents waiting up for their daughter on prom night.

  “We’re on.” Shay opened the door and stepped out of the car to a flurry of flashbulbs and high-pitched squeals. He waved to the crowd, then reached back inside the car to take Michelle's hand and help her out. She looked a little shell-shocked.

  “Smile,” he whispered in her ear, then pressed a kiss to her temple and wrapped an arm around her waist.

  He could feel the stiffness of her body and didn’t waste much time before ushering her into the record store. If it had just been him, he would have stayed outside chatting with fans, signing autographs and posing for pictures. But Michelle seemed like she could use a few minutes of peace and quiet before their CD signing officially started. That, or a shot of tequila.

  They were met at the door by the store owner who introduced himself and then showed them to a space that had been cleared at the front of the store for them. The store was small by big-box standards, but it had character. Black and white pictures of just about every country star Shay had grown up listening to lined the walls, along with a few framed albums and some signed guitars. Blue Suede was a newer record store, not really a Memphis legend like Shangri-La or Goner Records, but Shay could tell that the owner was a music lover and had really poured his heart into making his dream a reality. You had to respect that.

  "Do you need anything, Miss Michelle, Mr. Rogan?" the store manager asked them as they settled behind a folding table draped with a white cloth and stacked with piles of their CDs.

  "Two bottles of water, please," Michelle said, removing the cap from a Sharpie and trying it on a piece of scrap paper. She signed her name. Then signed it again.

  "What on earth are you doing?" Shay raised a brow.

  "Warming up." She said it like it was obvious.

  “Really?”

  "We could be here for hours. My hand gets tired if I don't warm up a little first." She glanced at him. "Once I was stuck at a signing for twelve hours. I couldn't move my wrist for a week."

  Rayna entered the record shop carrying a large box and beaming like a proud parent. "They're just about to open the doors. There are at least 300 people out there already." She set the box down on the floor behind the table, and took out a stack of 8 x 10 glossy photos. "These just came back from the printers. It took me a lot of begging, a couple of serious IOUs and a big check to get the rights to this shot, but your fans are going to love these."

  Rayna set the stack of pictures on the table between Shay and Michelle. It was a color version of the picture of them kissing on stage. Just looking at the raw hunger the photographer had captured made Shay ache to do it again.

  "No way," Michelle said instantly. She picked up one of the prints. Most of the color had leached out of her face. "Has Daddy seen these?"

  Rayna nodded. "He didn't like them any more than you do, but he agreed that this is an excellent tool to push the tour. You guys are getting national exposure. People called me a few minutes ago to confirm you two are dating." She leaned in across the table. "If you want to make this your comeback tour, you have to play this angle. This is your shot, Michelle. Take it."

  Michelle grew even paler. Shay felt a twinge of sympathy for her. Fighting to keep his little bit of traction in the business was tough, but getting to the top and then losing it would be much, much harder. He had a hole to dig himself out of, but Michelle was fighting not only the industry but herself, too.

  He touched her face, turning her gaze to meet his. "It'll be fun. Just try not to look like you’re about to remove my spleen with that Sharpie and they'll buy it."

  She rolled her eyes, relaxing a little. "Easier said than done."

  “OK, well I’ve got some calls to make.” Rayna pulled out her phone and started dialing. “I’ll see you guys after. Good luck!” Rayna left the store, already lining up another interview.

  “She wears me out,” Michelle said.

  “I wonder if she wheels and deals in the shower?”

  “Probably. That’s why Daddy hired her. She’s relentless. He admires her dedication to my career.”

  “I think he admires more than that.”

  Michelle looked like she might want to argue that point, but the manager returned with their drinks. He saw the new stack of photos and grabbed the top one. "Can I have one of these for our wall?"

  Shay grinned. “I'll do you one better. Got a camera?"

  "Right here. I always take pictures during our in-store appearances." He moved to the front of the table, camera ready.

  "Come here," Shay said softly to Michelle. She leaned in and smiled at the camera, but Shay threaded his fingers through her hair and turned her mouth to his. She tasted as sweet as he’d remembered, her lips flavored with strawberry lip gloss. He wanted to take the kiss deeper, take his time to explore her mouth, run his hands over her amazing body and peel her clothing off one piece at a time.

  The flash of the store manager's camera brought him back to the present with a jolt. He broke away and looked into Michelle’s eyes. They were dark and heavy-lidded. She wanted him, too.

  Shay turned back to the manager. "How was that?"

  "Awesome. It's going on the wall right there." He pointed to a blank spot right over the country music section. "I'm sending someone over to Kinko's to get it blown up right now so you can sign it before you leave, if that's ok."

  "Sure thing."

  The manager scurried away, leaving the two of them alone for a moment.

  "What are you doing?" Michelle said as soon as the store manager was out of earshot.

  "Giving the people what they want. You heard Rayna. We need to milk this for all it's worth."

  "That doesn't mean you need to molest me every chance you get."

  "It means we put on the show people want to see. If we were two people in a new relationship, totally infatuated with each other, we wouldn't be able to keep our hands off each other." Yeah, that was it. Shay had been thinking of nothing but their careers. It sounded good, right?

  Michelle thought for a moment, chewing on her gorgeous bottom lip. "True." She turned to him frowning. "Let's just keep it PG-rated, ok?"

  "Maybe PG-13."

  "You're impossible."

  "I think you just hate it when I'm right."

  "Thank God it's not that often."

  Shay laughed. He loved the give-and-take between them. There was still friction, but they’d burned off the worst of it in that storage closet. He wanted to see if she’d let him kiss her again, for luck, or whatever excuse he could come up with. But the doors to the music store opened and they were mobbed by fans.

  They signed for hours and Shay behaved himself for the most part. What was he supposed to do when a fan wanted a photo with the two of them? Of course he had to scoot in really close and wrap his arm around her shoulders. He might have pressed a quick kiss to her temple or her sweet lips once in a while. For the fans’ benefit. If he happened to tuck a stray tendril of hair behind her ear, or brush her thigh with his fingers, by accident, of course, well, that was all just part of the show.

  A
nd he couldn’t wait for the encore.

  *****

  By the time the store closed at 6 pm, I knew I'd be icing down my wrist. I'd signed and signed and signed all afternoon. I was thrilled, of course. I hadn't had that kind of fan turnout in years. Too bad I wasn't signing CDs, though. I was signing copies of those blasted 8x10s of Shay and me locking lips. Hundreds of them. Rayna had run out of them in fact. And with every copy placed in front of me I felt a fresh blush creep across my cheeks.

  For years I'd been coached to separate the onstage version of myself from the real me and this picture tore down those walls with one click of a digital shutter. It was all me in that photo, all the need, all the desire, raw and hungry and real. It scared the hell out of me to be that exposed.

  Shay didn't get that and neither did anyone else—Daddy, Rayna, Robert. For them I was just another piece of real estate. The problem was that it did seem to be helping the tour. Ticket sales had seen a bump and we were getting the kind of online buzz money and the best PR team in the world couldn't buy. But at what cost to me? I wasn't sure where the persona ended and I began anymore. Those neat little containers I’d used to separate the different parts of my life had exploded as if a truckload of C4 had been detonated on that stage.

  I slouched in my chair, glad the store was empty except for an ecstatic store manager and a couple of employees who were busy cleaning up the wreckage from the signing. I could finally relax.

  Shay'd had a good time, really hamming it up for the crowd. He'd taken every opportunity to make me crazy with the couple farce, kissing my hand, playing with my hair, smiling at me as if I was the butter on his grits.

  And the kissing. That had been the worst part. I could have almost remembered the couple thing was all a charade if it wasn't for that. It threatened to bring down those hastily constructed walls I'd thrown up when I told myself that last night had meant as little to me as it had to Shay. But those kisses, even the tiny ones that were meant to be perfectly chaste, sent a thrill through me that rocked my safe little world.