by Morse, Jody
As he began to unpack the food from the bag, my stomach growled. It was a stark difference from the day before, when I was too nervous to eat. I wasn’t sure if it meant I was beginning to loosen up around him or if it simply meant I was that hungry, but either way, I found myself reaching for a monster-sized blueberry muffin.
Just as I pulled out a chair for myself, my phone pinged. I glanced down at the notification and found that I had one new email from Mads. The subject of the message was Interview Questions.
“Wow, that was fast,” I murmured aloud as I peeled the liner off of my muffin.
Colton’s eyes darted over in my direction. “What was fast?”
“My manager sent me the questions the radio station is going to ask us already,” I explained. “Do you want to go over our answers now?”
“I guess.” He shrugged as he grabbed a bagel and sat down across from me.
I opened the email and read the first question to him. “What gave you guys the idea to collaborate together?”
Well, I had the option of working with him or watching my career fail. Which would you choose?
“Hmm.” He seemed to consider it for a few moments and then glanced over at me sharply. “Why don’t we just wing it? That’s what I usually do anyway. I feel like people can tell if we’ve rehearsed our answers.”
“Okay. Well, I’ll have Mads set up a time for our intervi—” I began to say, but Colton was already reaching for the phone.
He dialed a number and then turned on the speakerphone. The phone rang twice before someone answered and said, “Spin or Sin Radio. How can I help you?”
“Hey, this is Colton King.”
“Hey, Colton,” she said warmly. “How are you?”
“I’m good. Look, I’m calling on speaker phone with Viola Pierce about the interview we’re supposed to do together,” he said. “We were wondering if we could do that now.”
“Okay, sure. Hold on,” the woman on the other end of the line said.
“She just believes it’s you?” I asked with raised eyebrows.
“Oh, that’s Mindy. We’re actually on a first name basis,” he explained quietly.
“Oh.” I guess that was what happened when you were Colton freaking King; people just knew who you were. Me, on the other hand… I would’ve needed to verify it was really me in some way or another. “I thought we would have a little more time to prepare for this interview.”
He shrugged.
“We might as well just get it out of the way now, right?” he said quietly.
“I guess,” I whispered.
The sound of music filled the line as we waited. A moment later, there was a click and then she said, “We’re going to put you on air with our deejay, DeSean now. Is that okay?”
“Yeah, no problem,” Colton agreed.
“Okay, hold on again,” the woman said.
A moment later, a man’s voice came on the line. “And we actually have a surprise phone call right now from Colton King and Viola Pierce. Hey, guys.”
“What’s up?” Colton said confidently into the phone.
“Hello,” I added.
“So, let’s just jump straight to the chase. Rumor has it that the two of you are collaborating together. Can you confirm if this is true or not?”
“Yeah, it’s true.” I inhaled sharply, nervous about what he was going to ask us next.
“What made the two of you decide to work together?” DeSean asked.
“We were both looking to collaborate, so we figured why don’t we just do it together? We thought it would be fun,” Colton replied.
“From what I’ve heard, you’re actually planning to do more than one song together, is that right?” the deejay questioned.
“Yeah, that’s right,” I agreed.
“So, whose album will these songs be on?”
“Mine.” I swallowed hard. Apparently it didn’t even matter that I hadn’t finished reading the questions, since DeSean didn’t seem to be following them, anyway.
“What’s the album gonna be called?” he asked.
“It hasn’t actually been decided yet,” I replied honestly. I’d had a few ideas in mind. Shattered had been my top contender, along with Broken and Lost, but that was when all of the songs on the album were going to be about Jake. Now that my songs were taking an upbeat direction, it was back to square one.
“Do you know when the album will be dropping? Or when we’ll get to hear the first song from it?”
“Not yet. We’re still in the really early stages,” I explained.
“Well, I’ll tell you one thing. I’m excited to hear something from the two of you. You’re both so young and fresh, and so full of potential.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“We’re really excited about it, too,” Colton chimed in. “Neither of us has actually collaborated with anyone before, so it’s like one of those career goals we can knock off our bucket lists.”
I just stared at him from across the table in awe. He actually sounded…excited…to work with me, when I knew that wasn’t the case at all. Lying about it just seemed so effortless for him. It told me one thing.
Colton King was a damn good actor.
“Awesome. You both have very different styles. What approach are you planning to take when you work together?”
“It’s sort of a surprise.” Even to us.
“Yeah, everyone will find out what we’re planning once the first song drops,” Colton added.
“You can’t even give us a little hint?” DeSean questioned.
“All we can really say is that it’s different from anything we’ve ever done before,” he replied.
Well, I supposed he was at least telling the truth on that one. Simply collaborating with one another was different than anything we’d ever done before.
“Well, I know I, for one, will be looking forward to it. I have one more question before I let you guys go.” He paused for a long moment. “It’s a little personal, but tell us…is there anything going on romantically between the two of you?”
I laughed. “No, nothing’s going on.” We actually sort of hate each other.
“Ah, too bad,” DeSean commented. “I was hoping.”
“She’s just out of my league,” Colton said.
“Really? I didn’t think anyone could be out of your league,” DeSean said.
“Oh, trust me. That’s because you don’t know Viola Pierce.” Colton avoided my gaze.
I just sat there staring at him, dumbfounded. What the actual fuck?
The rest of the interview was a bit of a blur. When Colton hung up the phone, I said, “What the hell was that ‘she’s out of my league’ bullshit all about?”
“Well, we have to do something to make the fans think you’re more likeable,” he replied as he took a bite out of his bagel. “Besides, I’m technically telling the truth. You are out of my league.”
“How do you figure?” I asked, raising my eyebrows at him.
“You’re in a league of your own.”
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
Chapter 12
That had to have been an insult.
I had a feeling our entire songwriting session was headed into dangerous territory unless I could find a way to keep my snappy comebacks to myself.
You’re the only one who thinks Sebastian is secretly in love with Ariel and I’m in a league of my own? Ha, okay.
There. That should’ve been enough to hold me over for a while, unless he made more douchebaggy remarks (which I was sure he would).
When we went into my office, he made himself comfortable on the sofa. I headed for my desk, grabbing my guitar on the way.
“I feel like you’re so far away from me. Why don’t you sit down over here?” He patted the cushion next to him.
I hesitated for a moment, but when I glanced over my shoulder and into those light eyes, I knew there was no way I could say no. I wasn’t sure how any girl could resist Colton King te
lling her to sit next to him. He was just that adorable.
I took a deep breath and crossed the room, sitting beside him. We were so close our knees were lightly touching and if either of us were to move our arms, we would end up knocking each other in the ribs. We were so close I could feel his warm breath against my neck.
“Happy?” I asked.
“No. Now I feel claustrophobic.”
“Oh.” I started scooting my butt over, but he slipped an arm around my waist, pinning my hip against his.
“I was just kidding.” A few long moments passed before he finally cleared his throat. “Forty-two.”
Did he just tell me I was number forty-two? As in, the forty-second girl he’d slept with? I had to admit the number was a lot lower than I’d originally expected it to be.
“Forty-two?” I asked.
He nodded. “My ex sent me forty-two text messages without a response. So, I have things covered on the crazy girl side of things.”
I am the crazy girl side of things. I couldn’t help but feel bothered by his comment. “Maybe if you’d replied to her, she wouldn’t have felt the need to send you forty-two texts.”
“I guess. But it’s a little hard to text in the shower, with all the water pouring over me.”
I shrugged. “You should learn to take risks.”
“I should risk dropping my phone in water just to answer a girl’s forty-two texts?” He looked amused again. “Okay, clingy. Tell me how many texts you’ve blown someone’s phone up with.”
“Not forty-two,” I said, probably a little too quickly. Technically, it was the truth; I hadn’t sent that many texts in one day, just over a period of 42 (and then some) days.
He nodded. “Girls. You’re all the same.”
I shot him a look. “I’ll have you know that I’ve gotten some crazy texts, too.”
“Oh, yeah? From who?” He didn’t sound too convinced.
“Foot Fetish Guy,” I replied.
“Foot Fetish Guy?” He laughed. “I can’t wait to hear about this one.”
“Yeah, that’s my nickname for him. Ironically, I met him while he was working at a shoe store. He would text me all day every day asking what type of shoes I was wearing or begging me to send him pictures of my feet.”
“Wow. And did you send them to him?”
“I did at first. I didn’t think it was an obsession, you know?” I explained. “But then, he would start bitching over what color of nail polish I wore or how certain pairs of shoes didn’t look sexy enough with my arches. It got to be too much and I ended it, but for months later, he continued to send me pictures of his feet, like they were supposed to make me fall for him.”
“Wow. You are a crazy guy magnet,” Colton noted.
“I am not,” I insisted. “I’ve dated lots of sane guys.”
“Yeah? So far, your crazy to sane guy ratio isn’t looking so good. First, we have the guy who ghosted you. Then we have the guy with the foot fet—”
“The first guy ghosting me doesn’t mean he was crazy,” I pointed out.
“Well, I was trying to give you the benefit of the doubt here. A guy ghosts a girl for one of two reasons. He’s too immature for a real relationship, so he just ends it with you without giving you a reason, in which case, I think he’s a little crazy.”
“And the other reason would be?” I asked.
“That you’re just bat-shit insane and he wanted to get out before you could, I don’t know, kill him a thousand times.” He shot me a smirk.
I rolled my eyes. “You take my song lyrics way too literally.”
“That’s just me. I don’t believe in hidden meanings behind songs and poems and shit. You know that poem by Robert Frost? ‘The Road Not Taken’?” Colton asked.
I nodded.
“Everyone thinks it has some deep meaning, but you know what I think? I think some dude just came to two roads and decided to take the one no one else took so he could avoid traffic.”
“I can never tell if you’re being serious,” I commented.
“Here’s a hint: I never joke.” His amused blue eyes locked on mine. “As fun as this all is, we should maybe try to actually get some words down today.”
“Oh, yeah, right.” I sat up straighter, remembering the reason he was here. Normally, the words just seemed to flow when I wrote music by myself, but I felt more distracted than usual when he was here.
“What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever texted someone?” Colton asked.
“Who says I’ve ever sent crazy texts?” I quickly shot back at him. In my swiftest attempt to change the subject without actually owning up to the crazy girl texts I’d sent, I said, “I think I have our first verse.”
He stared back at me intently. “What is it?”
“Shhh, don’t talk. I need to write it down.” That would buy me some time to actually think of a first verse, considering I didn’t even really have one in mind.
Grabbing my songbook from him, I opened a blank page.
A few moments later, I scribbled down the first thing that came to mind, and hoped it wasn’t laughable.
Baby, when I gave you my number
I didn’t know
That you were gonna start
Blowin’ up my phone
My friends said you were crazy
But I didn’t listen
Now you got me wishin’
My battery would die
I think texting me gives you a high
Once I’d written all of the words down, I read them over. For a first verse that had been written entirely on a whim, it actually didn’t sound half-bad, if I did say so myself.
Proud of my accomplishment, I handed the songbook back to Colton for him to read.
His eyes poured over the words, and after a few moments, he nodded. “Yeah, this is good—really good, actually. Do you want to practice it?”
“Okay,” I agreed, lifting my guitar. As we strummed the chords, we both began to sing the first verse, our voices falling into sync with one another.
“This is good,” he said again once we’d gone through it three times.
“Yeah, it is.” I couldn’t help but smile at my accomplishment.
“I guess since you wrote the first verse, I should probably try to come up with a chorus,” Colton said. “You know…so as not to break the fifty-fifty rule.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
He seemed to consider it for a moment when his cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced down at the caller ID. His eyes clouded over with a dark look and he stood up abruptly. “Shit. I forgot that I was supposed to be somewhere this morning. I hate to cut this short, but I really need to go. Is that okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine. No problem.” I shrugged it off, even though I couldn’t help but wonder what was so important that he needed to leave so suddenly. On the other hand, it couldn’t have been that important if he hadn’t remembered it in the first place…could it?
I supposed there was always a chance he was late for a date with Mystery Girl. Ugh.
“Do you want to resume again tomorrow?” Colton asked.
“Yeah, sounds good,” I agreed as I rose to my feet. I led him out of my office and to the front door. As he stepped out into the hallway, I closed the door behind him and leaned against it.
I breathed a sigh of relief. The song we were putting together was exactly the type of song Jimmy Jones had wanted me to write. And for the first time in a long time, I actually felt happy while writing it.
Chapter 13
Later that night, Skylar and I sat on bar stools at a round table, waiting for Finn to arrive. We’d chosen to go to the Wild Frog, an upscale bar that saw a good deal of celebrity attention. So far, we’d already had sightings of Kimye and Miley Cyrus and her latest beau.
The nice thing about this bar was that, while lots of celebs came here, everyone pretty much knew to leave everyone else alone. It was one of the places you came to if you needed some peace and qui
et.
“You know, it feels like it’s been forever since I’ve seen Finn,” Skylar said as she sipped her fuzzy navel. “You know, the version of him that isn’t picking my ass up and putting me in a hotel.”
“Well, yeah, considering it’s been forever since you’ve been in L.A.,” I pointed out. “I’m really glad you’re back, by the way.” And that was the truth. It felt good to have my best friend back in town. There things I could do with Skylar that I just couldn’t do with Finn. I mean, yeah, he was always down to see the latest chick flicks with me (when he wasn’t too busy running his business), but gossiping about guys and shoe shopping wasn’t his cup of tea.
“I’m really glad to be back, too,” she replied with a smile.
At that moment, I spotted Finn out of the corner of my eye as he made his way over to us.
“There he is,” I said, pointing my chin at him.
Finn waved as he got closer to our table. When he plopped down onto a barstool next to Skylar, he said, “Hey, guys. You wouldn’t believe who’s outside.”
“Please tell me it’s not Colton,” I replied, taking a gulp of my drink. It felt like the boy popped up anywhere I was and, somehow, I was the only one who didn’t find it really exciting. Not that I would’ve minded seeing him…
“It’s not Colton,” Finn assured me. “Adam Levine is out there.”
“I love Adam Levine!” Skylar squealed, bouncing on her barstool excitedly. “I need to ask him for an autograph later. And if he’ll marry me.”
“I hate to break it to you, but he’s already married.”
“So? A man can have more than one wife,” she joked with an eye roll.
“Speaking of marriage… are you dating anyone?” Finn asked her.
“No,” she replied with a distant look in her eyes.
“Really? There wasn’t someone in Nashville?”
“There was, but he’s no longer in the picture.” Her dark eyes darted away from him. “I don’t really feel like talking about it. It’s a sore subject. But tell me about your matchmaking business! Viola mentioned it. I’m so excited for you. I remember when you used to be obsessed with the show Tough Love. I feel like you’re the next Steve Ward.”