by Lisa Lace
Sweet. Nobody has ever described me as sweet before. Ruthless, yes. Cold, sure. A player, more than once. But never sweet. Ivy seems to bring out the softer side of me.
She straightens her skirt with a nervous sigh. “God, it’s packed.”
“A full house.”
Treyna and the girls are playing the Hollywood Palladium, which can hold 3,700. Every seat is filled tonight, and all eyes are staring at that stage. I can practically feel Ivy quaking in her stilettos. Jane is keeping to herself, walking in little circles backstage and taking deep breaths. Every now and then she sings a scale to loosen her voice.
I turn to Ivy. “Are you going to warm up?”
“If I open my mouth I might throw up.”
“You’re going to be great.”
“I’ve forgotten how to play the guitar.”
I laugh. “Once you’re onstage, it’ll all come flooding back.”
I urge her toward the stage entrance. We peer around at the crowd. Almost 4,000 people waiting for a good time.
“Right now, they’re Treyna’s fans,” I say. “By the end of the night, they’re all going to be fans of The Row Girls as well. Take a good look, Ivy. Those are your future listeners. They’re going to buy your albums, ask for your autographs, buy your concert tickets, tattoo themselves with your lyrics. You’re about to change the world.”
Ivy glances across at her partner, ignoring everything I just said. “Jane’s outfit is worse than mine.”
It’s true. Jane could easily be mistaken for a hooker if she were on a street corner instead of backstage. She’s been outfitted with a leather miniskirt, steep ankle boots, and a see-through blouse. Her eyes have been made up to stop you in your tracks. It looks unnatural and freakish up close.
“There’s no going back now, though,” Ivy continues. “I’ve made my bed, now I’ve got to lie in it.”
I nod toward the sold-out theater. “It’s some bed to lie in.”
Twenty minutes later, it’s time for the girls to take the stage. I give Ivy a quick hug for confidence, and it’s all I can do to not sweep her off her feet and carry her away to safety. Instead, I let her go out there on the stage, vulnerable and exposed to the whole world.
It’s your time to shine, Ivy.
The lights go down in the concert hall, and the spotlights brighten and focus on Ivy and Jane. They begin to play, and I watch the reaction of the crowd with bated breath. It only takes a few bars for me to know the girls are a hit. Everybody is dancing, cheering, and swaying. By the time the girls get to their own tracks, people are waving their lighted cell phones in the air.
I look at Ivy on the stage. Beneath the spotlight, she looks like an angel. I’ve never wanted anyone so badly.
I watch the girls from a distance as they meet their fans backstage for the very first time. A whole crowd is waiting for an autograph. I’m disappointed to see the girls aren’t standing together. Ivy stands at the head of one line, Jane at the head of another. Ivy’s line is noticeably longer. I see Jane glare at her.
Ivy powers through, signing her name over and over until the line dies down. Jane immediately begins mingling with the fans still circulating, laughing brightly, inserting herself into conversations, and posing for photographs. Ivy tries to join her, but Jane turns her back her every time she approaches then finds someone new to talk to. After fifteen minutes of this, Ivy gives up. I watch her slip away through a side door, and I follow her back to the dressing room.
Inside, she sits in front of the huge mirror, furiously brushing out her hair and wiping away her makeup. She pulls on a robe and ties it tight around her waist.
“Ivy?”
She looks up at me. “Hi, Lucas.”
“You left in a hurry. Is everything okay?”
She forces a smile. “I’m fine.”
“You didn’t give me a chance to tell you how great you were up there.”
“I didn’t puke.”
“No. I did make sure I wasn’t in the front row, though—just in case.”
A laugh. Ivy spins on her chair to better look at me. She looks tired and downbeat. I sit on the vanity counter opposite her.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong? You should be flying right now. That was your first live show to an audience of that size.”
“I know, and it was great, but—”
“Jane’s giving you the cold shoulder?”
Ivy lets out a long breath. “She’s acting like she hates me.” She shuts her eyes and takes a shuddery breath, then looks at herself in the mirror and continues to remove the makeup from her face. “I went with all those changes because she told me to compromise.” She looks up at me with defeat in her eyes. “Those songs weren’t me, Lucas.”
“But did you hear how they cheered when you did play your own stuff? They went wild.”
“It was hard to hear anything over the loudspeakers.”
“Trust me. They won’t forget Ivy Evans anytime soon.”
Ivy folds her arms over my knees and rests her head on them. “I didn’t think it was going to be this draining.”
I stroke her hair. “It’s all happened very quickly. You’ll adjust.”
“I’m starting to think maybe I’m not cut out for this life after all.”
“It’s only the drama getting you down. You love music. Remember that.”
She squeezes her eyes shut as if in pain. “My father wasn’t here tonight.” She swallows. “At first, I was upset when he said he wouldn’t come, but now I’m kind of glad. He wouldn’t have recognized me up there, wearing these little scraps of fabric and singing about nightclubs and tequila.”
“You looked beautiful, and you sounded beautiful. Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. You’ve just taken your first step on the biggest adventure of your life.”
Ivy
As always, Lucas knows just what to say. I wish I could fall into his arms and let him hold me tight. I feel so much better simply being near him. I can only imagine how comforting it would be to feel his arms around me again.
“I’ll talk to my father,” he promises me. “I can tell him I’ve seen the crowd’s reaction for myself. Your own songs were a hit. It’s what the people want.”
“Thanks, Lucas.”
“I know you hate all these little detours. I’ll do what I can to bring your original vision back to life.”
“I’m starting to wonder if there’s a point in fighting for that vision after all. Jane doesn’t seem to mind. She’s having the time of her life.”
Suddenly Lucas snaps. “For God’s sake, Ivy! Can’t you see you’re carrying that girl on your back? Jane hasn’t got half the talent you’ve got. You’re the one everyone wants to hear. I don’t even know why you let her on the same stage as you. She’ll drag you down.”
I’m taken aback by the hostility in his voice. I don’t know what to say. I take my hands from Lucas’s knees and sit back in stunned silence.
“Don’t you realize we’ve made all these compromises and carried on a whole charade simply to keep you as a pair?” He shakes his head in frustration. “My father wanted you as a solo act. I thought you’d be better as a solo act. The whole friggin’ world knows you’re better off alone. But I fought for Jane to stay because I knew you were too loyal to ever abandon her, and I wanted to save you from making that difficult choice.
“I regret that now. All she’s done since I’ve saved her skin is put you down and make out you’re the one wasting opportunities. She’s a drain, Ivy. If you really want to succeed, you’d drop her.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing, but I can’t pull myself together to protest.
“If you did, there’d be no more of this jumping through hoops. Everything we’ve been doing with the clothes and different songs is to try and disguise the fact that Jane has no talent. On your own, you could perform however you want. No strings attached. No smoke and mirrors.”
I stand up and turn away, shaking
my head. “What horrible things to say about her.”
“I haven’t said anything that isn’t true. Jane would be nobody without you.”
“And I’d be nobody without her. She’s pushed me to keep going when I would have given up. She’s had more faith in me than I had in myself.”
“That’s because she’s been using you as her meal ticket.”
“Lucas!”
He places a hand on my shoulder. “I’m not saying she’s not your friend, Ivy, but there’s no need for her to be your partner. If she really wanted to see you do well, she’d let you spread your wings. She’s a weight dragging you down.”
“She’s my best friend.”
“Is she? She hasn’t been acting like it lately.”
“Jane has talent. I love her voice.”
“She’s not the worst singer in the world, but she doesn’t compare to you.”
“I would never betray her.”
“Even when she’s treating you like dirt?”
His words sting, and I draw in a sharp breath. He’s right—Jane’s been treating me like I’m invisible for weeks now. The closeness we once shared seems like a distant memory. She won’t accept my apologies or respond to any attempt I make to reach out. She’s convinced I’m plotting against her, and I’m not sure there’s any way to win back her trust.
“It’s my own fault. I broke a promise to her.”
Lucas scoffs. “Why does she get to tell you how to live? You made your own choice for once in your life, and you’ve been punishing yourself for it ever since.” He steps closer to me and runs his palm up my arm. “Stop blaming yourself for being human. You’ve been in an impossible position too long. Give yourself permission to be selfish for once.”
I don’t know how to answer. I hardly think about what I want anymore. I’ve spent so long trying to make sure I don’t step on anyone else’s toes.
“I’m not trying to be harsh. I simply hate to see you being broken down,” he continues. “You’re this earnest, deep person with real things to say, and people are squashing your talent to meet their own needs. It’s bad enough the label is doing it, but when I see Jane and your father doing the same, it makes my blood boil.”
I look into his eyes and see they are blazing with emotion.
“Everything you are should be all they see. It’s so incredibly beautiful. When I hear you sing, I truly feel things. Your father is scared the label will take advantage of that, and Jane is jealous of your ability. Everyone’s got an agenda. But tell me, Ivy, what do you want?”
I stand, frozen, staring into his eyes. Then, I make a decision and turn the lock on the dressing room door. Before I step toward him, I take him in from head to toe. This is what I want.
My lips part, and my fingers glide over my cleavage. I walk toward him, my hips swaying side to side, finally feeling the way the outfit makes me look.
I push him up against the wall, extending my arm to look him up and down again before pressing my body into his. Although he looks away, I can tell he likes this new me. I grab his face and turn him back toward me, kissing him hard and teasing his cock with my fingertips.
“You like bad girls, Mr. Producer? You like it when we talk dirty to you? Do you like the way it sounds?”
I feel like another person, like a whore set free. I kiss him again, but he pushes me back, confusing me.
“Not like this,” he says. “I don’t want you to be someone you’re not.”
“It’s a little late, don’t you think?” I hold my arms out and look down at my dress.
“And I was wrong. I told you that.”
His voice softens as he approaches me, his hands cupping my face. My cheeks are hot with embarrassment. What was I thinking? Why did I think he would like that?
He pulls my face to his and smiles, kissing my nose before showing me exactly what he does like. He peels the dress from me and drops it to the floor, moving closer and backing me up against the wall. I feel his mouth cover mine, and my discomfort dissipates quickly. I melt into him as his hands cascade down my bare back to my bottom. He pulls me into him, and my body catches fire.
I push off the wall and my hands pull his shirt up as he wraps my leg around him. We kiss with breathless desire and an explosive urgency as our hands work hastily to disrobe each other. Before the last article of clothing hits the floor, he picks me up and I wrap my legs around him. I feel his tongue in my mouth as it dances with mine. He carries me across the dressing room until my back is against the wall, and he presses himself into me. The bulge of his cock is hard against my stomach.
“I’ve missed you,” I tell him, my body begging to have him inside me.
“You mean, you’ve missed fucking me.”
“Well, yes, but more. Your touch, your kiss, your—”
He shuts me up with a kiss and pushes his tongue deep into me as I feel his cock open me up and inch its way into my pussy. He holds me there as his kiss deepens and his hands explore me. I can feel each pulse of his thick rod penetrating me, and it makes me crazy. I try to move against him, but he has me pinned. I feel light-headed, breathless and wanting.
When he begins to move back and forth, he looks at me and I can see the hunger in his eyes. He stares at me as he increases the speed that he fucks me, pushing me against the wall repeatedly, each thrust pushing me to the edge. We move faster, my body jarring up and down against the wall, both of us panting hard as our orgasms build for each other. I wrap my arms around him, my mouth open, my head back, and my orgasm about to seize me and drive me into ecstasy.
He tightens his arms around me, and I can feel his body tense as he comes hard, freezing motionless until he is able to let go. He forces himself into me a few more times before I feel the same powerful orgasm that overcomes me.
He holds me tight, his head resting against my chest and I close my eyes, feeling his breathing slow, hearing his heart race. When he finally lets me down, I look up at him and realize I’m falling in love with him. How is this all going to play out?
Lucas
I sit beside Sam, listening to the girls record their fifth track. Although we’ve made some pretty big accommodations on the songs being recorded, they still sound great. I know these records are going to sell.
Every now and then, Ivy catches my eye through the glass and smiles. Whenever she does, she casts a guilty sideways glance at Jane and bites down on her lip. A few moments later, she’s smiling again.
After weeks of holding me at arm’s length, she’s finally given in to the spark we share, and now it’s like an explosion every time our eyes meet.
The door to the sound room opens. My father is standing there with a smug smile on his face. He folds his arms over his chest and stands in front of the glass panel, watching the girls for a while.
“Stop the recording,” he orders. “I need to speak to these two.”
I gesture for Sam to halt, and he turns off the backing track. The girls look up.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing you need to worry about, Lucas.” He holds up a hand.
I’ve just about had it. I’m sick of him putting his hand in my face, rolling his eyes, or snapping his fingers at me. I curl my fingers tightly around the wooden arm of my chair.
“I’m their manager.”
“And I’m the owner of the label. If that is understood, then there’s nothing more to discuss.”
“Dad—”
He frowns in annoyance. “Enough, Lucas. I’m not asking your permission.”
With that, he breezes past me and opens the door to the recording booth. I watch the girls’ reactions through the glass when they see him. Ivy’s expression is one of contempt and caution; Jane’s is one of delight. I step in behind him.
“Ladies.” He claps his hands together. “It’s time for another shake-up. I want to try something new.”
Ivy draws her eyebrows together, shooting me a look of concern. Jane is trying to hide a smile, but she keeps throwing gl
ances at my father like she knows what he’s going to say.
“You.” He points at Ivy. “I’m hearing a lot of your voice on the tracks. We’re going to turn you down a notch. I want to hear Jane’s voice coming through.”
Ivy’s eyes widen, and she’s visibly taken aback. “You don’t like the way I sound?”
“Not really.”
Her eyes flutter. I can see her swallowing repeatedly to hold back her tears. She clears her throat, pushes back her hair, and fidgets with her hands, staring down at the floor. She doesn’t argue.
I do.
“You can’t barge in here and start giving my act orders.” I stand directly in front of my father, squaring up my shoulders, moving closer until we’re practically nose-to-nose. I stand my ground. “The Row Girls are my artists. I found them. I’ve been working with them. You don’t get to call the shots here.”
My father raises an eyebrow and turns to Ivy and Jane. “Excuse us, ladies.”
He invites me to step out of the booth, back into the sound room, then pulls the door shut behind us. “Sam, could you give us a moment?”
Sam obediently stands and leave the room. The second the door closes behind him I turn my attention back to my father.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing? We both know Ivy is the one with talent. Why would you want to put Jane center stage after I had to fight to keep her at all?”
He lets out a low, feral chuckle. “Oh, believe me, son, Jane has talent.”
“Oh my God, you’ve slept with her!”
He laughs again and lifts up his hands. “What’s a man to do?”
“You can’t make business decisions based on which desperate young women put out.”
“It’s gotten me this far.” He offers a sick smile. “In my experience, the ones willing to play along are the ones who have the real drive to make it in this industry. Ivy would get eaten alive in five minutes if she made it big. She doesn’t understand the game.”
“Why should she have to? She’s talented.”
“Everyone has to play the game, Lucas.”