by Clara Bayard
Rocked All Night
By Clara Bayard
Rocked Series, #8
Copyright © 2013 by Clara Bayard
Get a first look at New Releases on my Mailing List
www.ClaraBayard.com
ABOUT THIS BOOK
Work hard…
Making a comeback into the music industry at twenty-one, curvy beauty Julia is surrounded by pressures and stress. Singing is her life and nothing is more important than this tour, but everyone needs a way to unwind, a place to hide and be free.
Play hard…
Rick, Dream Defiled’s sexy drummer, drives her crazy in good and bad ways. But a welcome distraction can easily lead to a disastrous situation when feelings get involved and the whole world is watching.
…All night.
ONE
Three days. I’d been waiting three days for my own mother to ruin my life. Holding my breath and expecting the worst. Praying that the few times we did talk got through to her. That she would stay quiet and not tell anyone about my lapse in judgment. My whole ability to have this career on my own terms rested in her hands. All because I took my eyes off of the prize once. I let my guard down. I decided to let my nether regions control me for just one night and, of course, managed to mess up everything.
After my mother and manager caught me post-amazing between-the-sheets marathon of fun with Rick, I threw them both out of my hotel room, locked the door, drew a scorching hot bath, and sat there until my fingers and toes were prunes and I was shivering in the cooled water. I cried a little and cursed a lot. At Rick for being ninety-nine percent asshole and one percent irresistible sex god. At my mother for being so shitty at parenting that I assumed she’d be emailing gossip blogs in the elevator.
But my real anger was saved for myself. Risking everything for what? Sex. Crazy good, I can die happy now sex, granted, but still. Not worth the potential disaster.
I was a less than two weeks away from the most important day of my life. The first show of the nationwide Bright Dark Dreams Tour. My tour. Basically. The label billed it as three co-headlining acts, but everyone knew the truth. Playology and I were opening for Dream Defiled, one of the biggest bands in the world right now. One with a sexy drummer I couldn’t stop thinking about. Remembering the way his hands felt on my skin. His lips against mine.
This was not the time to be thinking about Rick. I had to get dressed and head downstairs for a meeting. A meeting I’d rather jump off of the balcony of my hotel room – thirty stories above the Las Vegas Strip – than attend. But, I had no choice. I’d managed to dodge her for three days. Having my new backing band arrive helped a lot. Hours and hours locked away with them, going over songs again and again until we sounded like we’d been playing together forever. It was grueling, but wonderful.
And now, my reprieve was over. I twisted my hair into a messy bun and slipped into a sheath dress that skimmed my abundant curves. If you can’t feel good, you should at least look good, I figured. Some quick touches of makeup and a pair of killer heels and I was ready to face the evening.
I left my room and rode downstairs on an elevator with a middle-aged couple who both stared at me the whole time. I didn’t notice at first. After getting trapped in one with Rick I was still wary of letting the doors close me in, but I certainly couldn’t walk all the way down, so there was no choice. I just held my breath for most of the ride. That is, until I felt the eyes of the woman on me. She was attractive in a sharp, brittle way. All thin lips and skin stretched tight over her severe bone structure. And glaring at me like I owed her money.
Flashing a half-smile, I nodded in her direction, but her frown just deepened. I glanced over to her husband to see if I’d lost my mind, and noticed his eyes glued to the low neckline of my dress. That explained the look.
I wanted to say, “Lady, I’m sorry I have big boobs and I don’t hide them under turtlenecks all the time.” But, of course, I couldn’t say that. Instead, I arched an eyebrow and slumped against the wall as if bored. Man, if the greedy eyes of men old enough to be my father and disapproving stares of their wives was the worst of my problems I’d be a happy, happy girl. As it was, I rather appreciated the distraction from my now not so little issue with claustrophobia and growing dread as we descended to the public spaces of the hotel.
When the door opened at the level I wanted, I smiled broadly at both of my companions before exiting. “You folks have a wonderful evening,” I cooed before sashaying out with an exaggerated swing of my hips.
The woman muttered something rather unkind as I strolled away, chuckling to myself.
That moment of levity lasted the thirty seconds it took for me to enter the lounge and locate my management team, camped out with a few bottles of wine and plates of snacks in a corner.
“Julia, thank goodness, we were concerned. Your mother was about to come and check on you.”
I grinned at…the guy who spoke. Paul or Sam or Doug or something like that. I couldn’t really remember. All the suits start to blur together eventually. Between my management, the label, the other bands’ teams, lawyers and other assorted boring idiots, I kind of stopped trying to remember all of their names. But this one was endearing himself to me already by referring to Laura as my mother. Which she hated.
“Sorry I’m late. Work, work work. You know how it is.”
“Of course,” he replied, nodding before rising to air kiss me on one cheek.
“Hi Laura.” She’d asked me to call her by her first name, and I did, with as much sarcasm and scorn as I could manage in two syllables. “How was your day?”
She stared daggers at me for a second and then smiled. “Lovely. But busy. Sit down, won’t you?”
We were saccharine sweet to each other in front of others – always. It was part of the deal. Never show weakness. Never give an inch.
I sat back in a low leather chair and crossed my legs, choosing to ignore the displeased look my mother gave my thighs.
“So, what’s on the agenda tonight?”
Suit guy, who was already back scrolling through something on his phone, tapped the bottle of wine. “Nothing big. I just thought we should all sit down for a check-in while you’re available.”
“Okay.” I poured myself a glass and took a sip. It was gross. Some kind of red wine that tasted like dead animal pelt and probably cost more than a five-course dinner at a fancy restaurant. “I’m all ears.”
“Well, darling,” my mom said. “You’ve been very busy working with the new band. How is that going?”
I relaxed a little and felt my shoulders lower. “Great, actually. Their singer, Janine? She’s fantastic. Her vocals are strong but not overwhelming. And the guys are doing really well picking up the arrangement changes I’ve been making.”
Suit guy – Greg? – perked up. “Changes?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Nothing huge. I’m working on punching up some of the up-tempo numbers at the end of my set. You know, get the audience moving and all that. I think it’ll keep them energized for Dream Defiled.”
“Ah, yes. Just so long as you don’t vary too far from the soul of the songs.”
I snorted. Like this guy would recognize the soul in my music if it slapped him in the back of his head. “Certainly not.”
“Great. Now, why don’t we go over some details for the next few days. I know you’ve asked for as much time as possible for rehearsals, but we do still have some interviews and appearances for you. I’ve got a list from the publicity team…”
I tuned him out almost entirely, listening just enough to respond when I needed to. But most of my attention was across the room. The
re was a group of people who’d just come in. Around my age, mostly, they were a striking group. College kids, probably. But well dressed and fairly well behaved, too. They clustered around the bar, ordering a series of shots while they waited for one of the lounges seating areas to become available. I stared, completely transfixed. They laughed and joked. Flirted and whispered. It was so…normal.
Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t a hermit or anything. But I’d never had a big group of friends to hang out with. As a kid when I still went to a normal school, all my free time was spent at music lessons and acting classes. And then, when I ended up on a television show, I had school on the lot with all the other working kids. By the time King of Hearts ended, I started gaining weight and realized the industry wasn’t going to hire me for anything else, I was sixteen and didn’t even know how to make friends anymore with people my own age. So, I’d graduated early in an accelerated program and left the country to find my fortune in Europe.
Even then, when I’d found a group to sing with, we weren’t friends. I was seventeen and the others in their early twenties. They wanted nothing to do with me offstage and I didn’t really mind. I spent my nights off writing my own songs and dreaming of the day I could play them for the world.
And now, that day is here. So while it spoke to a tiny bit of regret inside me for the normal life I never led, I couldn’t really feel sorry for myself. Everything I gave up, everyone I lost was worth it. Had to be worth it to get me here. About to start shows where I sang the songs I wrote. With a backing band I picked.
“…Multimedia component. Julia, what do you think?”
I shifted my attention back to the people in front of me. “Sure, I guess. As long as the smoke doesn’t obscure the screens too much, I don’t mind.”
“Wonderful.” The suit noted something on his tablet and went back to his list of boring things I didn’t give a shit about. Like, I still didn’t understand why I needed smoke machines and a giant screen and laser lights. But that’s part of the show. When fans pay so much money to see a concert in a stadium so big that every act is a tiny dot, they need to feel like they’re getting their money’s worth. So, I’d sing my little songs I wrote in my bathtub in front of what looked like a Fourth of July light show going off behind me. None of that mattered as long as I could sing.
“What about another wardrobe fitting? I’d like her to have three of each approved outfit, just to be safe.”
I rolled my eyes. “Laura, two is plenty. And I’ve had a million fittings already.”
“Yes, but Julia, you need to look your best. And,” she continued, allowing her gaze to pass over my bare leg, “We need to make sure nothing has changed, size-wise.”
“For fuck’s sake. Don’t you think I’d notice if I gained weight? I would say something.”
She sniffed. “Well, or lost. One might think with all the rehearsals and moving around.”
“I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Let’s move on.” My voice was clipped and tense.
“All right, I just…”
“Well, ladies,” suit guy interrupted. “I need to make a quick call. Do you mind?”
“Not at all,” my mother said, sweet as pie again.
“Won’t be a moment.” He grinned and walked out to the hallway, already talking into his phone.
“Mom, what the hell?”
“What? What have I done now?”
I groaned. “Do you have to bring up my weight every meeting? I’m not gaining. I’m not losing. I’m fine. Leave it alone.”
“Don’t be so sensitive. I’m just checking.”
“No,” I hissed. “You’re needling. And you can stop. It didn’t work when I started getting bigger at fifteen and it isn’t working now. This is my body. It’s how I look. Unless you want me to starve myself and die, you have to accept it.”
She waved a hand dismissively. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have any problem with your body. Granted, I can’t really understand what happened. You were such a lean child and I come from thin people. Maybe it was the candy and…”
“Stop. We are not having this conversation. I look fine. I feel fine. I can sing and dance and jump and play just like all the other kids. No one needs a forklift to get me on stage so let’s just all be happy about that, okay?”
“Please. We’re just having a conversation. No need to get touchy.” She ignored my rude gesture as she continued to talk to herself, really. “I suppose being overweight could run in your father’s family.”
“Sure, how could you know? I don’t imagine you exchanged family health history before screwing in the back of his limo without a condom.”
“Julia Clark! Don’t you talk to me like that.” She seemed genuinely shocked, which pleased me more than it should. “You make me sound like some common slut.”
“Mom, I would never suggest such a thing. I’m sure you only opened your legs for the richest and most handsome of random guys you met working in that bar.”
She gaped at me. “What has gotten into you?”
I sighed. “Nothing. Shit, I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight.”
“Good.”
The truth was I wasn’t even sure why I started with her. I wasn’t mad. I guess it was just a reflex.
“But really, you should watch how you speak to me. I am not just your manager, I’m your mother.”
“Oh, are we acknowledging that in public now?”
“Stop being a brat. I know what this is really about.”
“You do?”
“Of course.” She patted her hair and rolled her shoulders back. “You’re still pouting about me finding you with that boy.”
My blood ran cold. I did not want to talk about that. “No.”
“Yes. And as your manager I still think you’re making a mistake. Think of the attention this could gain. A love affair on the road. All the shows would cover it. Magazine covers. Interviews. We could plan little dates in every city. Restaurants would pay good money to have you two sneak inside for a romantic dinner. Not to mention the paparazzi. There are a few I know would work with us. Give us a good cut of any…”
I leaned over and grabbed her wrist, hard. “Shut up. Stop it right now.”
She yanked away and stared, wide-eyed. “What?”
“For the hundredth time, there is no ‘love affair’ going on. It was one night. That’s all.”
“I know, I know, you’ve said. But it doesn’t have to be, dear. Don’t you see that? This could be your shot. Your chance at superstardom.”
“No.”
“But… isn’t that what you want? Isn’t that why we’re here?”
“Yes, of course. But not like that. Not because of gossip. If I’m going to be a success I want it to be for the right reasons. Because of my music, not who I’m sleeping with.”
“Come on,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re not that naïve. It doesn’t matter what makes you famous. It matters that you are, and what you can do with it. What we can do.”
I looked around to make sure no one was listening and leaned in close. “Mom, please. Can we talk about this later?”
“Fine. But in the meantime I want you to think about this. You hired me back for a reason. You know I’ll do whatever it takes to reach our goals.”
I did, and she would. For better or worse.
“Look, Whatshisname will be back in a minute. And then I need to go. We’ll talk about it later.”
“Go? Where are you going?”
“To the theater. I have to work on “Passionate Blood” a little more. With the little bit of choreography I need to make sure I can do it right. And I need a stage for that.”
“Now? I thought you’d be going out.”
“Not tonight. I just want to get everything worked out perfectly.”
She frowned, but nodded. “All right. If you need to work we can go. George will understand.”
George! That was suit guy’s name. “Okay.” I cast a glance over at the
group I’d been watching before. They’d gotten settled in an area nearby and were looking at menus and laughing. I sighed and stood. “I’m off to work.”
Mom walked out with me. In the hallway she explained to George that I needed to go back to the theater. He said goodbye and was gone almost before I could wave. Busy, that suit.
I started to head over towards the theater, but noticed my mother was still tagging along. “Um, you don’t have to go with me.”
“I know,” she said, twining her arm in mine. “But I want to. We can finish that conversation on the way.”
Fan-fucking-tastic.
TWO
I groaned and trudged along beside her. Of course I wouldn’t get away that easily. I flashed a badge at the guard keeping guests away from the section of the hotel where the theater was. We’d gotten lucky that it was behind schedule because of some special marble that took a month to deliver. The hotel had given us the space to rehearse in before moving to the arena the first show would take place in. The stage was smaller, but big enough to iron out the details of our sets.
As we walked down the quiet corridor, I realized I had to have this out with her once and for all or I’d never be able to sleep. I stopped her around the corner from the theater’s entrance, in between a gleaming alabaster statue of a naked mermaid and an ornately gilded empty pedestal.
“Mom, look. I know you want to make a big deal about what happened. And I understand why. But please, just this once, look at this as my mother, not my manager, okay?”
She tilted her head to the side, lips parted. “What’s the difference?”
“I…” That was clearly the wrong road to take. I had to appeal to her in a way that she’d listen to. If I couldn’t convince her to do it for me, I had to make it sound like a bad business decision. “Okay, forget that. You said the story would be great as a romance, right?”
“Oh, of course.” I swear her eyes got a little misty as she imagined the breathless gossip reports. “It could be huge.”
“But it would be bad for me.”