by Dee J. Adams
“As true as that is, how do you know for sure?”
She lifted a dark eyebrow. “You guys might be great musicians but you’re shitty actors. You both nearly had coronaries when you saw each other.”
Brendan took offense. “That is totally untrue,” he said. “I stayed completely chill. I already knew he was going to be there after Mitch drew his name.”
“Maybe you knew about him, but Seger definitely didn’t know about you. His eyes got about the size of my palm, then your eyes bugged out thinking he was going to say something.” She chuckled. “I think everyone else probably thought you were star struck.”
Blood seeped slowly through the bandage on her hand and Brendan looked out the door to see if he could flag down a nurse. “Even so, you could’ve said something. We both know that failing to admit my work relationship with Seger could cost my place on the show, even though I do nothing remotely related to music when I work for him. You could win right now, by bringing it to light.”
She watched him with her ocean eyes and a grin curved her lips. “What fun is that? Besides I’ve had Seger twice and this is your first time. It’s not like you’ve even worked together before now. Unless maybe you were working on something together before the show started and—”
“No.” Brendan was already shaking his head. “I never went to Seger with my music. Not once.”
“Why?” She shook her head. “I don’t get it.”
Brendan lowered his voice and leaned closer. “Because I didn’t want to risk my position, my job. One of the roadies approached him eight or ten months ago with his music and the next thing you know, the guy was gone.”
Casey’s eyes rounded. “Seger fired him?”
“I have no idea. I wasn’t in the loop. I just know the guy was really excited to share his stuff and then he was gone. I never thought that working for Seger was going to be a sure ticket to working in the music industry, so when the opportunity for the show came along I didn’t plan on losing it just because I’m his damn assistant. I couldn’t tell him for the same reason. I didn’t lie to the show about my work because I am a bartender. Just not a hundred percent of the time.”
Casey exhaled hard and dropped her head back onto the pillow. “You know you’re totally going to win, now.”
Brendan smirked. “Hardly. You’re the one that’s going to get all the sympathy, and you might not want it, but this injury is going to get you a sympathy vote.”
Casey shook her head and met his gaze, a what the fuck look in her eyes. “The way you carried me inside? Shirtless? All the women in America are going to vote for you. You’ve proved chivalry isn’t dead and you did it flashing your chest. I don’t stand a chance.”
At least she’d noticed. “I did what any guy next to you would’ve done. I just happened to be the closest.” Speaking of close. Brendan took a second to soak her in, knowing he had her to himself. Flashes of their night in Hawaii ticked by in his head like a silent movie. Remembering the softness of her skin, the taste of her mouth. He slipped his hand into her good one. “You have no clue how much I missed touching you. Having you in my arms.” A pretty flush climbed up her cheeks. He leaned down, about to dive into a much-needed kiss, a follow up of the spontaneous lip-lock he’d given her while buried under a wall. He got a fraction away from her lips, felt her breath against his mouth and—
“The H is for hospital…not hotel,” a voice said from the door.
Brendan pulled away and locked eyes with the doctor. The lean, young Asian man had a tired smile on his face and introduced himself as Dr. Hu, the plastic surgeon on call. The nurse followed him in with all the necessary equipment and he rolled a stool over to Casey’s bedside and went to work. The numbing shot clearly hurt like a bitch, but she clenched her jaw at took it like a champ. Fifteen minutes later, the doctor repaired the jagged gash on her hand. Eleven stitches and a big-ass bandage later, she was deemed good to go.
Miles sent a limo to return them to the set, insisting that police had been informed and an investigation was under way. Naturally the car came attached with a cameraman shouldering a camera and sitting opposite them in the back seat. Casey remained especially quiet during the ride and Brendan’s patience neared its end.
He squeezed her good hand. Screw the damn camera. “You doing all right?”
She glanced at the camera then back to him, clearly debating her next words. “I can’t play the piano with this.” She lifted her bandaged right hand. “Or the guitar. Or any other instrument for that matter.” She had a point. It didn’t seem fair for her to get this far and lose just because she couldn’t write or play her music.
So how could he fix this? Simple. “What if I help you compose?”
Her eyes widened again and this time probably all of America would see it since the damn camera was pointed at them from across the seat. “If you do that, when do you work on your song with Seger?”
He lifted a shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. I’ve already got something in mind and Seger’s a talented man. It’ll be fine.”
“Why would you do that? This is your chance to totally win this whole thing. Why help me?”
Because he cared about her? Because no matter how they started and despite being pitted against each other, he didn’t want to roll over her. If he was going to win, he wanted to beat her best. “I’m not doing that much. You still have a good hand to work with. I’ll just be offering a few extra fingers to help you along.” Brendan instantly thought of his fingers helping her along that night in Hawaii. The way he’d teased her clit and primed her with deep strokes. He wanted to get to that exact place now. He wanted to say screw the show and the contract and take Casey to a secluded spot where he could spend the next week touching her and tasting her and making her come.
Chapter Sixteen
Discovering the whole grip, lighting and construction departments had been fired while she spent five hours away from the set made Casey feel terrible. Apparently, there had been some massive scrambling to find a new crew on the spur of the moment.
“I’m sorry,” Brendan said quietly after Miles left them alone in the production office. In a matter of minutes, they’d be getting new RF mics attached and they had about thirty seconds of privacy before cameras and sound recorded everything for the last week of the show. “I didn’t know he was going to fire everyone. I just thought they’d bring in some security or something. Or maybe a couple of extra guys to make sure everything was safe before we got into a set.”
“I know.” Casey tried not to compare Brendan’s compulsion to command the situation to Jeff’s controlling nature. After everything they’d been through, he had every right to be angry and demand their safety. They just hadn’t planned on so many people losing their jobs. On the other hand, they only had one more week left so it could’ve been worse. Honestly, if someone on the crew had been responsible for the accidents, then she was glad they had fresh faces working on the show.
Brendan was as good as his word when it came time to work. He totally helped her compose her song that week. Had she been thinking straight, she’d have realized it was a mistake. The audience was going to love him even more. He was proving how talented he was by not only helping her, but by creating his own song afterward.
The week flew by without incident. Once Carrie came into rehearsals, Brendan spent his time with Seger and his own song. The pressure mounted as the hours ticked by.
Show night arrived and Casey’s stomach churned in a mass of nerves. Though she had confidence in her song and Carrie’s ability to perform it, she felt out of sorts. Not knowing Brendan’s song when he was familiar with almost every note of hers made her as uneasy as a shy child in a room full of strangers. The scales were definitely out of balance.
The live show at the Lexington Theater in Hollywood started with introductions and a video recap of the last week. Because of the drama with the wall crashing down and the paramedics and ER visit, not to mention Brendan helping Casey with her so
ng, the audience seemed more invested than usual.
What Casey didn’t expect was the relationship building between them. She never would’ve thought that her feelings for him were on her face, but she saw it with the rest of America. She also saw that Brendan returned her feelings. It was in the way they looked at each other, the way they laughed with each other, the innocent teasing and flirting. Even in the small touches, and especially in the extra-long hugs.
Cameras had caught it all. Had they been like this from the beginning? Maybe this was the first week their feelings were so transparent because they were the only people in the house. They’d had no one else to talk to or interact with. No one that might’ve acted as a buffer between their raging hormones.
So much for hiding.
Casey didn’t dare look at Brendan. The cameras would only catch that too.
Carrie and Seger both sang hit songs from their own albums to get the audience moving and psyched up for the show.
They’d flipped a coin a couple of hours before and Brendan had won the toss. Casey wondered if it was an omen for the night, but kept it to herself. He opted to go last, which meant she and Carrie went first with their song.
Carrie passed Brendan as he walked off to the side, and she joined Casey. They shared a hug and Casey sat behind the piano that had been rolled onto the stage behind them while the curtains were closed. Bright lights hit her from all angles and for a second she froze. Everything spilled out of her head. Her song, the notes, the words, everything. She glanced up and caught Brendan’s gaze from off stage. He canted his head the slightest bit, evidently aware of her panic, but he tipped his chin ever so slightly and narrowed his eyes. Then he mouthed, you can do it. Maybe he didn’t think cameras were on him, or maybe he didn’t care. But that encouragement was all Casey needed to pull her head out of her ass and get down to business.
Screw her dry mouth and wet palms. She had a show to win.
For this performance, she’d stripped off the bulky bandages from her hand and just covered the stitches with a few layers of gauze. She prayed her stiff hand kept up with the song.
With a glance to the superstar waiting to sing her song, Casey played the opening notes and Carrie dove in with the first line.
You think you know me, but you don’t.
You think you own me, but you won’t.
I’m gonna spread my wings and fly.
Gonna touch the sky so high.
Her enthusiasm sucked in the crowd as they caught on to the chorus lyrics.
Get outta my way, I’m gonna make it today.
I got what I need now that I’m flying free.
I’m soaring higher than ever before.
So don’t come knocking on my front door.
When Carrie started clapping her hands over her head, the audience joined in like fans at a concert stadium.
Casey couldn’t have asked for a better end to her night. She had a real shot at winning this whole thing and hope flowed in her chest like a cool rushing stream. She wanted to dance and shout. She wanted to tell Jeff to suck it and fuck off.
After playing the rest of the song, she joined Carrie center stage and they bowed as the studio audience cheered wildly. There were definitely hard core Casey fans just as there were Brendan fans and she soaked in the love, relishing the applause because it was possibly the last time she was ever going to hear it.
After they’d left stage, Brendan and Seger took their places in front of the microphones. Brendan didn’t seem nervous at all. In fact he looked as rock-star cool as Seger. Both wore black jeans and black boots. Seger wore a sleeveless black top that accentuated his biceps and Brendan’s short sleeve rust-colored T-shirt hugged his muscled chest.
The boys were sure to get every female vote in the crowd. They were double delicious.
Brendan stood behind the synthesizer then counted out a four beat and the two of them started playing. Seger sang the first line and drew the crowd in like a funnel cloud, taking all the audience expectation and turning it into a swirling mass of enthusiasm. It didn’t take long once Seger got to the chorus and belted it out.
I’ve got a secret and you’ve got to keep it.
I didn’t know it then, but you grew on me when
We drew the lines in the sand, but you still gave a damn.
The crowd ate it up. Every word, every note and Casey found herself bobbing her head to the catchy beat as the synthesizer worked it’s magic along with the guitar. It was a good song. A great song, and Seger knew exactly how to deliver it.
Casey’s heart jackknifed as they finished to thunderous applause. Nothing left to do now but wait for the audience and judge’s opinions. Her whole future could change in the next few minutes. Her wildest dreams might come true.
The show broke for a commercial break and Brendan and Seger exited the stage while crew cleared the equipment.
“You were great,” Casey said as Brendan stopped in front of her. Sweat glistened on his skin and his warm smile drew her in.
“You too.” He glanced around as everyone scurried to their places before they came back live. When he met her gaze, his eyes shone with the kind of emotion she’d watched on the big screen earlier. “Hey, whatever happens, just know that I think you’re really amazing. I wouldn’t have traded the last six weeks for anything.” He glanced at her bandaged hand. “Well, maybe I’d trade that.” He grinned again and stroked a gentle thumb down her cheek. “You’re crazy talented. I’ve loved being around that kind of creativity.”
Casey felt her cheeks flush. She smacked his arm to keep from getting too emotional. “Back at ya, big guy.”
“Brendan, Casey, to your marks,” the AD said. Randy Hall had been working in variety and live television for thirty years. Nothing seemed to set him off and his calm, positive direction always grounded Casey on show nights.
Brendan slipped his guitar strap over his head and handed the instrument to the prop man. He took Casey’s hand and together they walked to center stage to face the music. It was all coming to an end after six weeks. Six weeks of unbelievable pressure, of cameras watching nearly every move, of hearing nearly every word out of her mouth and seeing every facial expression.
Either way, in a matter of minutes, she was going to have a whole new life. It was either live her dreams or go back to her new apartment and figure out a new game plan. With no boyfriend, or fiancé. Maybe making it this far still assured her some type of gig with someone in the music industry. Maybe a producer or singer would give her a shot.
Brendan squeezed her hand and winked. She saw no sign of nerves or anxiety. Just a man happy to be standing in front of millions of people and ready to accept whatever answer came his way. He had a lot more confidence in his future than she did with hers. Of course, if he lost, he still had Seger in his corner, still had a shot at making music his livelihood.
She had to stay positive. Somebody out there might want to work with her. Getting this far had to prove her versatility with music. Worst case scenario, she went back to school another year—provided her job still existed—until she found another route to her dream. Teaching kids wasn’t terrible. It just wasn’t her dream.
The announcer introduced a return from the commercials and their host, Steve, recapped the past weeks and tonight’s songs one more time. He talked about the audience tabulations and the thousands of phone calls that had been taken during the show and then he handed it over to the judges.
Sara Bareilles voted for Brendan. Casey’s heart thudded loudly between her ears. The second judge, Garth Brooks also voted for Brendan, and Casey felt the win slip from her grasp. The third judge, Sarah McLachlan voted for her and kept her in the running for a few more seconds. The last judge, Rob Thomas kept them in suspense before voting for her as well and Casey blinked away the sting in her eyes. It wasn’t over yet, and knowing the judges were split gave her a little reprieve.
Steve asked for the audience tabulations and as the numbers scrolled on a giant board ov
erhead, the audience cheered wildly for their favorite. They screamed her name and Brendan’s name. It was a free-for-all.
The numbers came up and Steve’s co-host for the show, Ashley Argota, handed him a piece of paper with the winner’s name. Her long dark hair glistened in the bright stage lights and her brilliant smile always brightened Monday nights. They only saw Ashley during the live show at the theater. Casey remembered her on television growing up. Ashley had parlayed her child actor status into a career in network television, films and music. Casey could only hope for a fraction of her success.
Steve smiled as he looked from the paper and glanced between them. “The winner of the first season of Write Your Ticket, the one who gets five hundred thousand dollars cash and a record contract is…” The crowd went silent and drums beat a fast rhythm that matched the thump of her heart. Casey thought she might pass out before the winner was announced. She concentrated on Brendan’s tight grip on her hand.
Steve held up the paper. “Brendan St. John!”
Casey stood frozen for a second before plastering on a smile. Balloons and confetti streamed from huge containers above them and she barely registered the roar of the crowd and the pounding music as the band played Brendan’s song. Brendan grabbed her in a massive hug and held her tight. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he kept saying it in her ear like it might change how she felt.
Like a loser. But if she had to lose, at least she lost to Brendan. He deserved to win.
Told her she couldn’t do this. She made a fool out of herself. Out of me. The words Jeff would be thinking and saying to anyone around him right about now. She knew they weren’t true, but they were there anyway.
I’m not taking you back when you lose either. Not that she wanted Jeff back, because she didn’t. It was just another reminder that she had lost. He’d been right and that made her sick.