Managing The Rock Star (Not So Bad Boys Book 1)

by Emma St Clair

  And now Moby was asking about her. Sterling couldn’t say anything to stop Moby from dating her. Not really. But the idea of watching them together romantically made him feel sick. Maybe it was a good thing. Sterling didn’t want these feelings. He wasn’t about to start a relationship on tour with someone on his team. Someone he paid. There was enough on his plate now, with May and with the idea of leaving his label and transitioning to a new sound. That’s where his focus needed to be. Not on the beautiful and vibrant woman on tour with him.

  “Let me ask you something,” Sterling said. “I want you to be honest.”

  “You know you get nothing but honesty from me.”

  “Good. I’m considering leaving my label. Maybe going indie, maybe signing with another label. I want to shift from straight rock to something more stripped-down and acoustic. What do you think about that?”

  Moby leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “I think that would be a big risk.”

  Sterling ran a hand through his hair. “You don’t think I could pull it off.”

  “That’s not what I said. It would be risky, but I think that if anyone could make that kind of pivot, it would be you. And I’m all in if you need me. I’ll play any kind of guitar, any kind of sound. With you.” Moby laughed. “I feel like I just kind of declared my love for you, man.”

  Sterling grinned. “Did you? I made you forget about the ladies?”

  “I didn’t say that. I’m still trying to figure out which one you’re interested in. I would put my money on Reese. Though it seems like they both like you. Just let me know. Bro code. I’m not going after someone you like. Not that I’d have a chance going up against Sterling James, hot not-so-bad boy rocker.”

  Sterling threw a French fry across the table. Hearing that he had Moby’s support had lightened his mood enough that he didn’t even mind the teasing. It didn’t take away that possessive feeling he had thinking about Reese, but he wasn’t going to give in to that.

  “Look, I’m not looking for a relationship, so if you’re interested in either Morgan or Reese, go for it. Just know that if you make things messy, we’re sharing a tour bus. It could get ugly.”

  “I don’t plan to make things messy. You have no idea the kind of game I’ve got,” Moby said. “You should watch and learn. Maybe you’ll even decide to stop being a monk.”

  “Doubtful,” Sterling said.

  If anything, watching Moby pursue Reese would make him back even farther away from the idea of a girlfriend. Moby was a good guy. If Reese liked him, that would be a good thing for her. And it would help Sterling keep his focus where it needed to be: on his career, not a pair of beautiful gray-blue eyes.

  * * *

  Reese ran her hands over the racks of shirts. Normally she loved shopping, but today her mind had blanked out. Nothing looked or felt right. She and Morgan had taken an Uber to a nearby Ross, one of her go-to discount stores for clothes, shoes, bags, and random household things like cutting boards or completely unnecessary candlesticks shaped like elephants. She wanted clothes that weren’t so formal as the business-casual outfits she brought. But she found herself second-guessing everything. Morgan had a cart full of clothes she was maneuvering through the narrow aisles, but Reese hadn’t even picked up one thing to try on.

  “What’s going on?” Morgan said. “Where are your clothes?”

  “I just can’t figure out what I want,” Reese said.

  “Maybe it’s decision fatigue. Or overwhelm. Could I help? I’ve dabbled with being a stylist on the side, you know. I’m pretty decent.”

  “Really? I mean, I can see that you’ve got great style. I’m not sure I have a style. I mostly just wear clothes. Like, I buy shirts I like and pants I like and then I wear them. I’m not sure they really fit together or could be called a style per se.”

  Morgan laughed. “There is nothing I’d love more than to dress you. For real. It would be way more fun than trying stuff on myself. Seriously. Let me! Let me!”

  Reese shook her head. Morgan had her hands clasped under her chin, pleading. “Okay, fine. I’m not making any decisions anyway. How do we start?”

  “First, I need to know what you like, don’t like, and what you will absolutely never wear. I have a sense of who you are. Especially after listening in on your session with Sterling. Which, by the way, was epic.”

  “Really? I felt like a total failure. I mean, I got nothing out of the guy. He’s like Alcatraz.”

  Morgan laughed again and started going through the racks of shirts. “He’ll get better. I think that was a great start to get him trusting you. Just wait. It’s only been—what? A day?”

  “Feels like longer,” Reese said.

  “Hopefully not in a bad way.”

  “No, I just mean I feel like I’ve known you forever and it just feels like a lot has happened in a day.”

  “Tours will do that to you. It will start going faster,” Morgan said. “But I know what you mean. You and I totally connected. I love it. Sterling will let you in. Give him time. Now, let’s talk about you. I see your style as somewhat playful. Maybe with a bit of an edge. Mature without looking like a buttoned-up capital-A adult. Despite what you’re currently wearing.”

  Reese looked down. “Yeah, I have to wear this kind of stuff for work. I hate it.”

  “I could help with that, too. Give you some ideas of more fun business-casual stuff that isn’t so, um …”

  “Boring? Stuffy? Old lady.”

  Morgan linked her arm through Reese’s. “Stick with me, girl. I’m going to bring out the Reese that’s been stuffed inside those basic clothes for too long.”

  An hour and a half later, Reese collapsed on the small bench inside the dressing room. She felt like she had tried on half the store. Most of which Morgan hated. Reese didn’t have as much of an opinion, it turned out. Whenever Morgan gave a thumbs-up, that went into the basket. She didn’t even know how much she was buying or what the total was going to be. She hardly ever splurged, so it would be fine. The bigger concern was getting it all in a suitcase, which she also needed to purchase before they left.

  “Are you alive in there?” Morgan called through the dressing room door.

  “No. I’m definitely dead,” Reese said.

  A sparkly black dress appeared over the door. Reese groaned. “Shut up and put this on.”

  “I don’t need a dress. When am I possibly going to wear this?”

  “I’m sure you’ll have a time to wear this. We might hit up a club or get to do a more formal event or something. Put the dress on. I think it’s going to be fabulous.”

  Reese slipped off her shirt and pants again and slid the dress on. Morgan was a genius. The fit was perfect and the dress made her feel like a star. She opened the door and stepped out, knowing the drill. Morgan waited by the three-way mirrors. The dress was a light material, black but with sparkles somehow in the fabric itself. It had a scoop neck, no sleeves, and fell just above her knees.

  “Do you love it? Tell me you love it.”

  “I love it,” Reese said, smiling. “But—”

  “No! We don’t do buts. This is the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. Get it off and we’re heading over to shoes and then to get you a suitcase.”

  Reese smiled as she hung the dress back up and put the hanger in Morgan’s hand, which was extended over the top of the dressing-room door. In addition to finding a new wardrobe, she’d had fun. This had been one of the best times she could remember having in years. Other than with Staci, whom she badly needed to call and update. Tonight. Once she got back to her room at the hotel, she would.

  But what would she say? Reese considered this as she made her way over to the shoe section, where she could already see Morgan piling things into the cart.

  What she said to Morgan was true: this felt like way more than a day’s time had passed.

  They had only travelled a few hundred miles from Nashville to Atlanta, but there was a lot of distance between who she had bee
n at the start of the trip that morning and who she was now. That sounded dramatic. She was the same. But she had a new friend, Morgan. And Sterling … well. He didn’t seem as scared of her now. That was a good thing. Morgan said that he was on the way to trusting her and Reese hoped he’d get there.

  The thought terrified her. The celebrity crush feelings she had toward Sterling had only intensified the more time she spent around him. Two things could happen when you met your celeb crush. They could either be such a jerk that their clay feet were immediately shattered. Or they could be more amazing in person than you imagined. Then you were really in trouble.

  Reese definitely felt like she was in the second category.

  “What do you think about these?” Morgan held up a pair of studded ankle booties.

  “Hate,” Reese said. “Well, for me. I could actually see you looking amazing in those. But I couldn’t. I’m not a fan of the short boots on me. My legs always look weird. I don’t think I have ankles.”

  “Shut up,” Morgan said. “I’ve seen your ankles. But fine, I’m totally getting these boots. Try these.” She shoved a pair of silver Vans at Reese.

  “Can I pull these off? Are these too skater chick for me?”

  Morgan rolled her eyes. “They’re fun. Put them on.”

  Reese loved them. “How are you right about everything?”

  “Not everything. I gave you plenty of things that looked awful. But I love styling. It’s so fun. It reminds me of what you do, actually, just in a strictly visual way. I’m helping bring out the you that you feel like you are in your looks.”

  “That’s beautiful. You should write greeting cards.”

  Morgan laughed. “Maybe that will be my next career. If I ever decide to stop managing. We’ll see how this tour goes.”

  “Are you worried about this? It seems perfect. Sterling trusts you and you guys are BFFs.”

  Morgan didn’t respond right away, pursing her lips and picking through pairs of shoes. “Right.”

  Reese wanted to be careful. She suspected Morgan had a crush on Sterling, but was trying to hide it. She didn’t want to press if Morgan didn’t want to talk about it or if she, like Reese, was trying to stuff those feelings and forget they existed.

  Morgan matched up a pair of ballet flats that were on separate rows. The shoe department was out of control. If Sterling returned Morgan’s feelings, that would be good for everyone. Reese could be happy for them. She would be. It might be painful, but hard things build character. Or something like that. God probably had some amazing guy for her in Nashville. She just hadn’t met him yet.

  Reese opened her mouth, meaning to ask Morgan about her feelings for Sterling.

  But she couldn’t do it.

  Unspoken girl code meant that if you knew your friend was interested in a guy, you had to back off. Having this conversation would mean that Reese couldn’t like Sterling. For the sake of her job and her survival on this tour, saying the words and getting Morgan to admit her feelings would enact the girl code. She should say something.

  “He sure did date half the country for a while there, didn’t he?”

  Morgan made a face. “Yes. He was pretty disgusting. It almost killed me watching from afar as he had all these hookups and girlfriends. At least he’s cleaned up his act as far as that’s concerned. I think he was chasing demons or running from them or something. He wasn’t ever like that growing up. He hardly dated anyone. Then he got big and famous and fell into all the stereotypes. It was rough. He seems like he’s in a better place now. But he never mentions women or relationships, so I’m not sure. Look! The perfect suitcase. Do you like pink?”

  Morgan pulled out a wheeled pink suitcase with a hard shell. It wasn’t enormous, but would probably fit everything in the cart, including the shoes.

  “I feel like a stereotypical woman, but yes. Pink is my favorite color.”

  “Um, hello?” Morgan held out the ends of her hair, which were about the same color as the suitcase.

  Reese laughed and then surprised even herself by throwing her arms around Morgan and squeezing. “I’m not much of a hugger. But this is for you. For helping me find things and just being here. I’m glad we met.”

  “I can’t breathe,” Morgan rasped.

  Reese laughed and let her go. “Sorry. I guess I don’t know my own strength.”

  “It’s okay,” Morgan said, grinning. “I’ll take a death-hug from you anytime. Now, let’s get out of this place and back to our hotel so we can put you in some fabulous new clothes.”

  Reese trailed behind Morgan, pushing the cart. She felt warm from the hug and the conversation and just the idea of having a friend on tour. As long as they didn’t broach the subject of feelings for Sterling, anyway, she would have a friend.

  Chapter Eight

  Being on stage, even just for a sound check, reminded Sterling of exactly why he did what he did. Any questions or doubts fled the moment the lights hit him with a guitar in his hands and a mic in front of him. The familiar rush of adrenaline washed over him as they went through some of their set while the sound guys did their thing.

  Retire? Get a normal job? He had been crazy to even think about it. He belonged here.

  The average person had no idea how much relied on a good sound check and an excellent sound engineer. When he first started doing bigger shows, a sound guy named Riley gave an explanation that always stuck with Sterling.

  “When we eat sausage, we don’t think about the way it’s made or what goes into it. We don’t want to know—we just want the final, delicious product. Same with sound. If it’s done right, no one gives it a second thought. But there’s a lot of sausage,” Riley had said. “The sausage is what they don’t see to give it the final, amazing product.”

  As Sterling waited for the front-of-house sound guy to adjust the levels on his vocals, he couldn’t help thinking about that. Looking out over the empty amphitheater, Sterling imagined the way it would transform in a few hours. The energy would shift with a few thousand moving bodies out there to something palpable and hard to describe.

  Some shows seemed to have a kind of magic that connected him to the audience. It was something he couldn’t always predict and couldn’t force. More often than not, Sterling felt it. But at his worst shows, something inexplicable felt off and he had to mentally talk himself through the rest of the show. It was hard to recover from that lack of energy.

  There was definitely a lot of sausage in a good show.

  Movement to his right had Sterling glancing over. Reese stood on the stage, a phone in hand. She was close to Moby, who was already smiling, but her eyes were on Sterling. When his gaze landed on her, she shifted her weight back a bit, as though she was nervous.

  “Do you mind if I post some live videos of the sound check on social? I know we haven’t finished the whole branding thing, but fans always love the sneak peeks and behind-the-scenes.”

  Sterling swallowed. He knew she was right, but he had never been big on posting to social himself. Especially not live videos. He couldn’t keep up with the chat and got totally distracted by the comments and emojis and questions that flew by the few times he had tried live videos. But if he wasn’t the one filming, people wouldn’t expect him to answer. It would just be a way of showing the public some of the sausage. He smiled.

  “Yeah, that’s fine. You may want to wait for Mike to get the sound situation figured out.”

  In his earpiece, Mike cleared his throat. “I heard that. Didn’t realize I was dealing with a diva. I’ll have your sound done in just another second, Princess.”

  Sterling laughed and could see Moby smiling and shaking his head. All of the guys had ear pieces and floor monitors so they could get a better sense of the mix and hear themselves. Before the show and between songs, Mike could also let them know anything they needed. But after this, they shouldn’t need to worry about it.

  “All set,” Mike said. “I added a ton of reverb to your voice. I think it will sound reall
y lovely.”

  Sterling shook his head, smiling. “Perfect. As long as you’ve got the autotune on.” Laughter came through the earpiece.

  “You use autotune?” Reese looked shocked.

  Sterling pointed to his ear piece and smiled. “Just joking with the sound guy. I’m not a boy band.”

  “This is my first tour,” Reese said. “There will be a lot I don’t know. So, it’s okay if I drift around and do some video of y’all warming up? I’m thinking Facebook and Instagram stories. You’re not on Snapchat, right?”

  “That would be a hard no to Snapchat. Feel free to film whatever.”

  “Just make sure you get my good side,” Moby called.

  “Which side is that?” Sterling asked.

  “All sides,” Moby answered.

  Reese shook her head. “This is the kind of stuff I want. Just do what you’re doing and ignore me.”

  Impossible.

  Sterling swallowed, trying to bury that thought and the ones that came after as he watched Reese walk away. He liked what she was wearing now. She looked different. Yesterday on the bus she looked like she was going into a corporate office rather than a tour bus. Today she had on worn jeans, sporty sneakers, and a graphic T-shirt. It suited her.

  “Yo, Sterling. We going or what?” Moby called. Sterling realized he had been staring after Reese.

  “Yep, sure thing.”

  He nodded to Moby and started in on a song from the middle of their set. Playing through the intro chords, Sterling was totally aware of where Reese moved in his periphery, filming. It sent a thrill through him and the kind of warm adrenaline that he usually only got when the concerts were packed with fans.

  Normally warm-ups were pretty chill affairs, with the energy he hoped for in the actual show not even a ghostly whisper. Sterling played and sang just enough to get the levels correct. They all knew the songs well enough that it wasn’t about practice. But with Reese skirting around them on the stage, Sterling’s chest hummed with the bass and as he stepped to the mic, the familiar rush flooded through him.