by Magan Vernon
Eddie smiled; the only crack in his otherwise calm façade was his shaky pinky that no one else would have recognized if they hadn’t been his best friend since the womb.
“Well, Mr. Rickshaw, today, I wanted to go with something classic and give a little ode to the King of Country himself, George Strait,” Eddie said, tipping the white hat I got him for Christmas.
I hadn’t brought up his shitty gift or the girl who broke up with him right after New Year’s and the bimbo from prom. As we went into our senior year of high school, it was back to being just Eddie and me. And win or lose this competition, I’d be Eddie’s shoulder to cry or to cheer him on. Or if he wanted to cheer into my vagina, I wouldn’t object to that either. I just had to tell him that I had been secretly in love with him forever. Maybe I’d get the courage after all of this. Maybe.
“All right, Eddie Justice, let’s hear it,” Rickshaw said, clapping his hands together.
Eddie strummed a few chords on the guitar and closed his eyes before he hummed the opening bars of “Carrying your Love with Me.” He opened his eyes, and the words not only flowed through his mouth but every part of him. Eddie emulated every part of the song and goose bumps pricked my body, feeling his words.
Enamored with him, the DJs stared open-mouthed at the scrawny kid who needed a haircut. I knew then that they were seeing the guy I’d seen all my life and that my days were numbered with my best friend, Eddie Jahid. Soon, he would be Eddie Justice, superstar.
The Eddie Justice Throwback Honky Tonk Tour sponsored by HJBS in Austin was in an old dance hall outside town. It was supposed to be an intimate gathering of only a hundred guests who had won various radio contests.
I should have been excited that it was my first official outing with Eddie as his girlfriend and that I’d get to see him perform live, but my author dashboard and latest book sales were putting a damper on the whole thing.
“Make sure to hashtag Eddie comeback with everything,” Pam, Eddie’s publicist, said over my shoulder.
I locked my phone, not wanting her to see the entire three copies I’d sold since my release yesterday and the same amount for my other books. At this rate, I’d have to beg for my high school job at Conti’s back to pay Clay rent.
“Couldn’t think of a better hashtag, ‘ey?” I said, not really sure what else to say.
Pam gave me a tight-lipped smile. “So Eddie told me you’re an author. I looked up your collection last night. I would have one-clicked your latest, but I’m not much for billionaire books. Or ones with swear words in the title.”
“Technically, bitch is starred out,” I said, raising a finger.
Pam smirked. “Yes, that new one was. Same for Stepbrother B*tch.”
“These titles just come to me. It’s a gift,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I actually was.
“You know, if you did write something a little more, I don’t know, mainstream romance, I do have some friends in publishing if you’d want me to pass something along.”
Normally, I would have smiled and said something smartass, but with my dwindling bank account and sucky sales, I had to take a bone when it was handed to me.
“I have been working on a little something with a country music star and his former girlfriend. A second-chance romance,” I said, trying to think of a better way to explain it. I’d sent Sydney my first three chapters, and she said it was the best thing I’d ever written. I had to agree that for this book, the words were flowing, and I was loving every one of them.
Pam smiled fully. “An autobiography?”
“Uh. No. This takes place in Georgia, and Justin and Blythe were boyfriend and girlfriend in high school and had one romantic night together before he hit the road with his country band.” Even as I said the words, I realized how much it did sound like my real life, and I couldn’t hide that.
Pam took a business card out of her wallet and handed it to me then squeezed my shoulder. “Now, that’s something I would definitely read. Send it to me when you get a chance.”
With that, Pam left me there staring at the fancy embossed lettering on her business card.
When I started this writing dream, I’d had high hopes that it would turn into something that would keep me away from all of the other failed half-ass jobs. But now that reality was hitting, I figured I had nothing left to lose. I grabbed my phone out of my back pocket and forwarded Pam the pages I had sent to Sydney, saying a silent prayer that this wouldn’t be another failure.
***
“Hello, Texas, I’m Eddie Justice. If you’re here for somebody else, kindly exit there in the back, and I’ll turn around, pretending I didn’t see you. This will also give you ladies in the front a good view of my butt,” Eddie practically purred into the microphone, slowly turning around and flashing a dimpled grin over his shoulder.
“The guy can work a crowd, can’t he?” a low voice purred in my ear.
I whirled around to see a very tall redhead with hazel eyes that shone even in the dim light of the dance hall. Something was familiar about him, but I couldn’t place the strange sense of Deja vu.
“Dude, Scotty, leave her alone, that’s Eddie’s girlfriend,” an equally tall man with spiky hair and eyes bluer than the sea said, nudging his broad shoulder against Scotty’s.
“The chick with the glasses who’s always sitting at the bakery?” Scotty asked, blinking once then twice, his eyes roaming over my body.
“Should I be finding security or do y’all stalk every girl at concerts?” I asked, putting my hand on my hip. I thought I knew most people in Friendship, but it had been a while since I’d really explored. These guys were probably close to ten years younger than I was, so I might have just vaguely remembered them as diapered kids coming into Conti’s.
All of Eddie’s fans were down on the first-floor gathering near the stage, and those of us who were Eddie’s “VIP” stayed in a balcony area. I recognized a few country stars but was too afraid to approach them, and then, of course, there was Eddie’s team. If these guys were up here, they had to be somebody. Maybe they were some of his cousins from Arkansas who wanted a favor, and I’d met them at a family gathering.
The guy with the bright blue eyes shook his head then extended his hand. “Sorry to be a jerk. I’m Jay, and this is Scotty. We’re friends of Eddie’s and have been staying in Friendship for training.”
That was where I recognized him. Jay Morningstar and Scotty Forester were two Olympic swimmers. They’d both slammed some gold medals in the pool and had been in the media spotlight for some unsavory things lately. Though I didn’t know how these guys could get into any trouble. They had cereal box smiles, and though they might have been tall, lean, and undeniably attractive, I was still pretty sure I could have changed their diapers.
I smiled, shaking Jay’s hand then Scotty’s. “Nice to meet y’all officially. I’m Brooke, but I guess you knew that.”
Scotty finished whatever was in his rocks glass; something I wasn’t even sure he could legally drink. “I’m going to get another drink. Do you guys want anything?” He pointed back and forth between Jay and me.
I shook my head, my brown waves flying around my head. I figured if I was going to play the part of country star girlfriend, I should probably get out of my usual leggings and ponytail, and do my Texas blowout and makeup before putting on a tank top, shorts, and my boots. I felt like a girl who should be dancing in the back of someone’s pickup truck in a music video, but better that than waking up to see another picture of me on TNC with my resting bitch face and bedhead. Not that I had been totally stalking the site every chance I got to see what they had been saying about the country music star. I’d only had brief mentions and two photos. I’d hoped maybe that would help book sales, but I was still sitting at thirty books sold total for the month of January and that included the whopping five e-copies I’d sold of my new release.
Leaning against the railing, I watched Eddie work the crowd before starting the next song.
/> “Big country fan?” Jay asked, leaning on the railing next to me.
I shrugged. “Sort of. Growing up in Texas, you’re kind of born and raised on it.”
“Yeah, SoCal isn’t exactly a country music mecca. I’m more of a punk guy myself, but Eddie is friends with my sister and soon-to-be brother-in-law, so thought I’d come out and support him,” Jay said, swirling his glass around. He hadn’t even taken a sip of the light brown liquid inside.
I glanced over my shoulder to see Scotty chatting up the tattooed blonde behind the bar.
“You can go join Scotty. You don’t need to feel like you have to stand next to me,” I said, hitching my thumb behind me as I turned toward Jay.
Jay didn’t even look in the direction I was pointing. “Naw. I’m not into finding his flavor of the week. Truth be told, I kind of met someone in Friendship, and I can’t stop thinking about her. Don’t tell Scotty that or he’ll give me so much shit.”
I raised my eyebrows. “A girl in Friendship?”
The smile broadened on his face. “Yeah. Her name’s Lia. She works at Conti’s.”
I could have warned Jay about the strict Conti family and her two older brothers who would probably kick his ass if he even looked at her the wrong way. But instead, I smiled. Something about Lia reminded me of myself, and every girl deserved to have a famous, attractive guy pine for her.
“You should totally call her. I bet I could get her number from her brother,” I said, nudging his shoulder.
Jay laughed slightly, shaking his head. “Yeah, I had her number until I dropped my phone in the pool at practice. Last time I saw her, she seemed in a rush to leave me. I don’t know. Maybe she’s just not into swimmers.”
I laughed. “I think you may have just read her wrong. If I were you, I’d call her, or hell, even show up at Conti’s and say ‘Ey, Lia, I’m into your Sicilian geek chic and we should go out for ice cream’ or something more romantic,” I said.
Jay laughed. “You know, for a romance writer, you have some pretty lame lines.”
“Think you could come up with something better?” I asked.
He shrugged then pushed off the balcony. “I don’t know, but I guess I should probably find out.”
“Right now?” I asked, watching him set down his glass on a nearby table and grab a hoodie.
“Yeah. I’m sure Scotty won’t even notice I’m gone,” Jay said, shrugging on the hoodie then zipping it up.
“You do know it’s like a five-hour drive without traffic back to Friendship, right?” I raised an eyebrow.
Jay smiled. “Luckily, it’s only forty minutes by plane.”
I rolled my eyes. “Does everyone but me travel by private plane now?”
Jay shrugged. “Maybe. Air is the best way to travel. Plus, if I’ve got a beautiful girl to impress, I can’t wait five hours for that.”
I smiled. “Go get her, Jay.”
“Thanks, Brooke.” He patted my back then went to the bar, saying a few words to Scotty before he was out the back door.
Jay and Scotty were the only actual conversation I had all night. After Eddie had played one set, there was a second set then an encore then another encore. After that was a meet and greet and autograph session.
I wasn’t even tired when it was all done but rather yawning from boredom. I thought about live-tweeting or Facebook-living the event, but the radio station was already doing that, and I was pretty sure my thousand followers didn’t care.
I thought Eddie would be hyped up after the show and want to hang out, or maybe, you know, have shower sex, but he fell asleep in the car back to the house and woke up briefly to mumble, “Good night,” and kiss my cheek before he crashed.
I tried to lay down next to him, but I was wide-awake, staring at the coffered ceiling. After doing that for about thirty minutes, I decided to do something productive, so I grabbed my laptop and headed downstairs to the grand dining room table.
I brewed a pot of coffee and opened my Word doc. My best work usually came in the middle of the night, and if Pam really did have friends in publishing, maybe it was time to give this story a chance.
I set down my full mug of coffee, and my fingers typed without me even thinking of what I was actually saying.
I didn’t expect to have fun at Justin’s shows since I wasn’t a big country music fan, but I also didn’t expect him to leave me to go have sex with his groupies.
So none of that was true, but like I told Pam, it wasn’t autobiographical and this made for a more exciting read.
By the time I’d finished two mugs of coffee, I’d written almost ten thousand words and the sun was starting to rise. I hit save and emailed Pam the revised Word doc with the new title and tagline “Rumor Has It: The semi-true story of a rock star girlfriend.” That one was sure to get some sales.
Chapter 16
Eddie had a debriefing and more meetings with Pam and Stan on the way back to Austin, which was fine by me because I slept the entire plane ride back.
It wasn’t until we were in the limo and the privacy screen was up between the driver and us that Eddie finally spoke.
“The semi-true story of a rock star girlfriend,” he grumbled, tapping his fingers on his knee.
“What?” I asked, still half-asleep. Maybe staying up all night wasn’t the best idea.
“Pam told me she offered to read something you were working on and send it to one of her friends in publishing. She didn’t think much of it until she read details of a Justin Edwards having sex with the highest bidder, and orgies with his writer girlfriend and the couple at the bakery.”
“Well, the bakery was for cross promotion for my other series,” I muttered.
Eddie sat straight up and turned sharply toward me. “Did you really think you could sell that shit to a publisher? What if people read that and thought I was really like that?”
I shrugged. “It’s fiction. Smut, really. People like the juicer stuff. No one would actually believe any of that was real.”
“Oh, like us having sex in the shower and breaking it? I’m sure your brother would enjoy reading that little tidbit and believe it’s fiction.”
I finally sat up, rubbing my eyes. “I really don’t see the big deal. You know I write this kind of stuff. Not like many people buy my books anyway so it wouldn’t matter what I wrote.”
Eddie huffed. “And you don’t think this would be the big break you’ve been dreaming about forever? That maybe you could ride on your neighbor’s coattails, and get all the sex and stardom that comes with being a country singer’s girlfriend?”
I narrowed my eyes. “What the fuck, Eddie? You think I’m using you to get book sales? If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been around since before you were this bigheaded country music star with girls throwing their panties on stage. This is what I do. I write smut. You’re the sex symbol, and I’m the smut writer.”
He shook his head, licking his bottom lip. If I wasn’t so pissed off, I would find the move sexy. “No, Brooke. This is bullshit, and you know it. You complained about the church lady rumors, but then you go and make up your own. As if I didn’t already have enough shit to deal with in the media, now I have to add my former best friend trying to sell some smutty memoir.”
I widened my eyes, every part of my body now on fire from anger. “So now I’m just the former best friend out to score a buck? That’s some petty shit, Eddie.”
“Is it, though? You’re the one trying to ruin my career just to write some stupid book,” he spat.
“Me? Ruin your career? No, that would be your ex-fiancée with the sex tape, and you know I probably can’t even blame her. She probably got tired of you spending all your time playing shows, passing out, and then listening to whatever your uptight publicist said. If this is what my former best friend, Eddie Jahid, has turned into, then maybe I don’t want anything to do with Eddie Justice.” I knew I didn’t mean all of those words, but in the heat of the moment, I knew exactly how to hurt him and let go of al
l the hurt and anger I’d had buried the past ten years.
Before Eddie could respond, I rolled down the privacy screen. “Please drop me off at my house and then take Eddie back to the ranch.”
“Brooke, we’re not done talking,” Eddie whispered through gritted teeth.
“I am,” I said, folding my arms across my chest and looking out the window so he couldn’t see the tears in my eyes.
I expected him to take me into his arms and apologize. For us to have some kind of amazing make-up sex in the back of the limo. But none of that would have happened with my best friend, Eddie Jahid, and none of that was going to happen with country music superstar Eddie Justice.
Part Two
Eddie
Chapter 17
“This could be your final dinner at Conti’s,” Mom said, pouring the olive oil on her plate then covering the little yellow puddle with a ton of parmesan cheese before dipping the homemade bread in it.
“I’m sure I’ll be back. This is the best restaurant in Texas. Where else will we go for dinner when I visit?” I asked, flashing the smile that seemed to put everyone at ease. I think that smile won the DJs over at HJBS who were sending me to Nashville.
“Think you’re going to live on your own in some mansion now in Tennessee?” Dad asked, raising one of his thick eyebrows.
“I mean, probably not in the first year, but once I’m the next George Strait, maybe,” I said, beaming. For the first time, I felt confident in my music. I might have been the best baritone in the church choir and our small high school, but there was nothing like getting recognition from Dallas DJs who were sending me to Nashville to meet with producers. Sure, like Brooke had said, this could all crash and burn, but I had to hope that my years of loving music more than anything and devoting my time to it had to be worth something. Even if it meant leaving my family and the girl I was pretty sure I’d been in love with forever.