The Songwriter

by Jensen, A. P.

  The Songwriter

  A. P. Jensen

  Titles by a. p. jensen

  emma’s secret

  can’t let go

  hell on heels christmas

  the songwriter

  unmemorable (2014)

  lost in wolf dreams (2014)

  birthright series:

  birthright

  wintra (2014)

  DEDICATION

  To my sister who has always believed.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Chapter One

  When the car stopped Gwen groaned at the sight of the waiting paparazzi. She stepped out of the car and even behind oversized sunglasses, had to squint against the blinding flash of cameras. She held her overnight bag in front of her like a shield as reporters rushed forward, thrust microphones in her face and yelled over each other.

  “Are the rumors true? Is Trey Phoenix going to cancel the tour?”

  “Did Natasha pull out because they had a lover’s spat?”

  “Is it true that Natasha eloped with another man?”

  Gwen was relieved to see Angie, Trey’s uptight, ultra-organized, no nonsense manager elbow her way through the crowd. Although Angie was probably knocking on the door to sixty, she was dressed in gold stilettos and her hair was streaked with red. Angie grasped Gwen’s hand and hauled her into the building. Gwen took a breath when the door closed behind them. Angie looked Gwen up and down with her lip curled.

  “Trey has been calling you over a week!” Angie snapped.

  Gwen flipped up her sunglasses and shrugged. “As I told you both, I have a life. I can’t leave a client because Natasha’s having a fit. What happened anyway?”

  Angie narrowed her eyes at Gwen who watched her coolly. It had been eight years since she worked with Gwen but the girl hadn’t changed despite coming into money. Gwen was dressed in sneakers and jeans and the braid down her back was coming apart. The overnight bag was old and tattered and Gwen gave Angie a challenging look that made her bristle. Gwen couldn’t be ordered around anymore but Angie didn’t like telling her client that she couldn’t get what he wanted. Gwen’s absence pissed off Trey which pissed off Angie.

  “Natasha wants what she can’t have so she had a bitch fit and here we are two weeks from the launch of the tour with no lead female singer.”

  “He hasn’t found a replacement?”

  Angie snorted. “I hate her but, I have to admit, no one can replace her and she knows it. He’s trying though.”

  Gwen’s phone beeped as a text came in and she rubbed throbbing temples. “What a mess. Where can I wait for him?”

  Angie opened the door to a dimly lit recording studio and texted on her phone as she talked. “He’ll be in auditions for another hour. I’ll let him know this is where you’ll be.”

  Angie’s phone rang and she answered as she slammed the door behind her. Gwen tossed her overnight bag on the couch and through the glass that separated the control room from the sound room saw Trey’s guitar. She looked around guiltily before she opened the door into the soundproof booth and picked up the shiny instrument. She ran reverent hands over the guitar that was as much of an icon as the man himself.

  Gwen sat on the stool in front of the microphone and took a deep breath and listened. Silence. One of her favorite sounds in the world. Her life was a whirlwind of people nowadays and while she loved what she was doing, she cherished the quiet times because there were so few. The plane ride here had been hell. She’d been looking forward to sleeping on the four hour flight and she got stuck beside some young rich boy in first class who was determined to take her clubbing tonight. Gwen groaned when her phone chimed again. Letting out a growl, she pulled it out of her back pocket and scrolled through her emails and then texts.

  Natasha: Trey’s an ass. I can’t believe after all we’ve been through he treats me like this.

  Natasha: Trey can’t replace me.

  Natasha: My ring is on the cover of People magazine.

  Natasha: I’m the second most googled celebrity in the world.

  Gwen turned the phone on silent and put it back in her pocket. If it wasn’t for Natasha, the selfish diva, she would be in her apartment in New York instead of here in Orlando. She rolled her shoulders to get rid of the anger heating her blood. There was nothing she could say or do to make Natasha come back and do the tour, so the next best thing was to ignore her because Natasha hated it.

  Gwen let out a long breath, plucked the strings on the guitar and tried to find her center. Music was in her blood. It made her feel alive and as she listened to the notes hover in the air, all thought drifted away and her heart swelled with joy. Gwen breathed music. Her mind was constantly grasping for lyrics to express emotion and the songs she once wrote for her own enjoyment were now raking in more money than she could use in her lifetime. Being able to write songs and meet the people she had was a blessing she didn’t take for granted. At eighteen, she left her small hometown and became a personal assistant to Natasha Wilde for five years. All she wanted was to be around music no matter what the job was. So, when Natasha snooped through her belongings and found her notebook of lyrics it changed her life. Now Gwen was sought out by music legends.

  Her fingers moved on the guitar strings and she began to hum The Better Man, a duet between Natasha and Trey that topped the charts for twenty four weeks. She wrote many songs for Trey and Natasha over the years. The combination of his deep baritone and Natasha’s powerhouse voice made every song a hit. When she finished writing The Better Man a year ago, she wasn’t sure she could bear to hear Natasha sing it but she had to be practical. The moment it was released, fans ate it up and Natasha basked in the limelight. Sometimes Gwen hated Natasha because she was the most self-centered woman Gwen had ever met.

  Gwen shut her eyes and let emotion fill her as she played. This song was a piece of her heart. Unlike the radio version which had a full orchestra, Gwen played the song acoustic. She opened her mouth and began to sing. Despite how quiet her voice was, it came out strong and clear in the booth. Gwen lost herself in the lyrics and sang the song the way she created it- with her voice and a guitar.

  Trey Phoenix was pissed. He stormed out of the studio in the middle of an audition and didn’t feel a twinge of shame at the scandalized whispers that followed in his wake when the singer faltered to a stop. He glanced at Angie’s text as people plastered themselves to the wall as he strode past. Wasn’t there a woman on this planet that could sing The Better Man just as good as Natasha Wilde? Professional singers had been called in and they hit every note but there was no heart. They didn’t register emotionally what they were singing. He was at the end of his rope and now he had the perfect target for his frustration. Why did it take Gwen so long to get here? Had she delayed her trip one more day, he would have flown to New York and fetched her himself.

  He stepped into the recording studio where Angie said she would be and was ready to blast but found only an empty couch. He blinked in the darkness and through the glass saw Gwen sitting in the sound room with his guitar. He caught her on more than one occasion playing in the hallway or tour bus years ago when they were on the road.

  Gwen’s eyes were closed and her body rocked as chords filled the room. He cocked his head as he recognized the melody. He could hear her humming, sweet notes that merged with the guitar. Gwen wasn’t aware of him, was
n’t aware of anything but the music. He heard Gwen carry a note here and there but never heard her sing a full line. He leaned over the sound board so he could see her better. Her face was soft as her fingers played confidently over the strings of the guitar and she nodded in approval of the notes. Even through the glass he could feel the emotion emanating from her. She took a breath and began to sing.

  I have a man that loves me,

  that holds me at night

  He tells me he loves me everyday

  He wants what I do,

  a stable home, children

  Why am I thinking of you?

  Goosebumps rippled down his arms and he went rigid with shock. He literally felt as if someone plunged an icy hand into his chest and gripped his heart. Gwen’s voice didn’t project and overwhelm like Natasha’s. Gwen’s voice was pure, husky and sultry. Her voice had a vibrato that was utterly unique and captivating. He’d never heard anything like it.

  Distantly, he wondered how much of the song she modified to fit Natasha. If this was the way the song was supposed to be sung, damn it all, why hadn’t she said so? He and Natasha recorded the song with a crap load of instruments that didn’t make as much of an impact as what he was hearing right now. How many times had Gwen altered her songs for Natasha? Trey knew Natasha didn’t like acoustic. She always wanted more- more drama, more instruments and more backup singers. She was never satisfied.

  In all his life Trey couldn’t remember being star struck by a voice until now. He sang with the best singers in the world and never heard anything like Gwen. His hands trembled as her voice rose on the chorus and her hands stopped strumming and tapped the guitar for several beats before she resumed. He was dumbstruck that the woman he considered his only true friend would keep such a whopping secret from him.

  The song ended way too soon for Trey. When the last word fell from her lips he leapt into action before her hand finished the last strum. He shoved open the door to the sound room. Gwen was so startled she nearly toppled off the stool but she caught herself and her eyes bugged when she saw him. She flushed as Trey stomped towards her.

  “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you could sing?” Trey shouted.

  Gwen got to her feet and carefully placed the guitar back on the stand before she turned to face him and fiddled with her braid. “I didn’t mean to touch the guitar. You know I can’t stop myself.”

  “I’ll give you that damn guitar,” he snapped. “Why didn’t you tell me you can sing?”

  “I can’t,” she said and frowned at him as if he was telling a distasteful joke.

  He waved his hands. “What do you mean you can’t? I just heard you! Here I am searching for someone to sing The Better Man when the songwriter can sing it better than anyone else!”

  Gwen stared at him as if he escaped from a mental hospital. “I don’t sing.”

  Trey ran tingling hands through his hair. He felt off balance and completely confused. Gwen was acting as if the session that knocked him on his ass was inconsequential which couldn’t be further from the truth. Gwen’s denial that she could sing was like trying to convince him that he could live without air. Trey grasped Gwen’s arms and hauled her towards him. She glared up at him, not intimidated in the least.

  “You. Can. Sing.”

  Gwen frowned and started to shake her head. He shook her, rattling her teeth and her mouth snapped shut.

  “You can sing!” he reiterated.

  “No-”

  “Damn it woman!”

  Trey turned away from her, trying to get a hold on himself. Gwen was his only platonic female friend and here he was, hard as a rock and on the verge of jumping her because her voice seduced him- hook, line and sinker. Gwen didn’t have a trace of makeup on her, yet she managed to look like the sexiest woman he’d seen in years. He knew firsthand that Gwen was the least vain woman he’d ever met. Her idea of makeup was Chap Stick. He looked away from her full lips and paced, muttering curses under his breath.

  Gwen wasn’t sure what was happening. Trey was acting crazy. She was mortified that Trey heard her sing. Trey was a country music legend and in a class of his own vocally. Having Trey listen to her was like asking Beethoven to listen to you plays Chopsticks on the piano.

  She watched Trey pace and took him all in. Trey was tall and lean with disheveled black hair and wicked blue eyes that could seduce you through a TV screen. He was dressed casually in jeans and a black t-shirt. He had a square jaw and the beginning of a five o’clock shadow that made him look delicious. She jerked her attention to his face when he stopped in front of her.

  “Why did it take you so long to get here? Didn’t you get my calls?” he demanded.

  She folded her arms across her chest. “I can’t just drop everything because you call, Trey.”

  “Having Natasha cut out makes this an emergency. These are your songs on the line.”

  “I know that. I was finishing up a song with a client.”

  “Who?”

  “Grant Mast.”

  Some of Trey’s temper faded to be replaced with amusement. “You sure aren’t a personal assistant anymore, huh? Even the legends are seeking you out.”

  Gwen didn’t even try to hide her satisfied smile. “People want me to translate their life into song. Grant was great.”

  “Why haven’t you ever sung in front of me?”

  The abrupt change made her want to bang her head against the wall. She didn’t want to talk about singing. She was a songwriter. Period.

  “Why should I?”

  “Because you’re one of the best singers I’ve ever heard! Don’t you think I know what I’m talking about?”

  She hesitated. Trey could be a charmer but he was also brutally honest. He could give Simon Cowell lessons. The part of her that was ashamed of her voice loosened the tiniest bit. If Trey thought she was good, maybe she wasn’t horrible.

  “You wouldn’t lie to me,” she said grudgingly. “But it doesn’t matter whether I can sing or not. I’m a songwriter.”

  “You’re not just a songwriter, you’re a great singer.”

  She didn’t like the way he was harping on this. Unease crept through her because there was a determined look in his eyes that set off alarm bells in her head.

  “Why do you think you’re a horrible singer?”

  Memories of freezing onstage during an open mic night flashed through her mind. The few lines she managed to get out were shaky and threadbare and she was booed offstage. She didn’t get out of bed for two days and just the thought of walking onstage was enough to make her lightheaded and clammy. She wiped her brow with her arm because even now the memory was potent enough to make her sweat.

  “I was booed offstage before,” she said with a shaky smile.

  “Who did that?”

  Trey suddenly looked livid and she smiled. Trey could be a blunt ass but he stood up for the little people. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that his on again/ off again partner Natasha heard her sing once and told Gwen she should do the world a favor and never sing again.

  “It doesn’t matter, Trey. It was a long time ago.” Because she wanted to move things along she ventured, “Did you find someone to replace Natasha?”

  “Yeah. You.”

  Gwen burst out laughing. She slapped her knee and keeled over. When the laughter slowed to giggles she straightened and wiped tears from her eyes. She stopped abruptly when she saw the serious look on Trey’s face.

  “You’re kidding.” When he didn’t change expression she slapped his arm. “Come on Trey. You’re wasting your time.”

  “I’m not wasting any time. You’re it.”

  He grabbed his guitar with one hand and her with the other. He flipped on the main lights, pushed her on the couch and sat on the other end facing her. He strummed the guitar and began to play The Better Man just as she had.

  “Sing,” he commanded.

  Gwen grit her teeth. “I told you. I don’t sing.”

  “I just heard you s
o that excuse isn’t going to fly. We’re going to stay here all day if you don’t do it.” When she still looked mutinous he coaxed, “It’s just you and me.”

  For a long minute, only the sound of the guitar filled the room. She stared into Trey’s eyes and knew if she tried to leave he would either drag her back or follow her around with the damn guitar in public. He could be a bulldog when he wanted something. She broke eye contact with him because she couldn’t look at him while she sang. She looked straight ahead and began to sing softly, barely audible. When Trey jumped in, voice pitched low to blend with hers she faltered to a stop and Trey stopped playing. She had an ear for music and what she’d just heard- she couldn’t deny that her voice blending with Trey’s sounded… amazing.

  Trey and Natasha were known as The Duet. Their voices were the perfect match and though they had successful solo careers when they collaborated on a song it was guaranteed to be a hit. With Natasha, there was no such thing as a partnership. Trey had to be strong and project so she didn’t drown him out. It was more a battle of wills than anything else and when Trey was younger, it heated his blood and kept him on his toes. What was happening right now with Gwen was effortless, which made it more shocking. It made his heart pound with excitement.

  He smirked at Gwen’s pale face. “Tell me again you can’t sing.”

  She opened and closed her mouth several times before she got off the couch. How had she known coming here would be a huge mistake?

  “Gwen.”

  Trey set the guitar aside and stepped in front of her. She crossed her arms across her chest defensively. She could feel the walls closing in around her and she didn’t like it. They would find a singer. She would make sure of it. “We can find someone.”

  “I’ve spent two weeks calling in every pro I know to audition and none hold a candle to what you just did. I don’t know who told you that you can’t sing, but they’re dead wrong.”