Corbin kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the sofa. “Like heaven.”
“I’m gonna go make some calls,” she said, heading for the door. “I’ll wake you in a couple hours.”
After his long nap, Corbin and Karin headed down the hall to the hotel suite that was doubling as the press room while he was in town.
“This interview is with the Dallas Morning News,” Karin explained as they walked. “Her name’s Selena. Super sweet reporter.”
“And you told her no personal questions?” Corbin didn’t mind talking about his private life, but reporters sometimes liked to delve a little too deeply. Karin knew to shut it down immediately if things became uncomfortable.
“She got the same speech as all the other reporters. She’s gonna want to talk about the Indie Fest, so please pretend to be excited about it. You’ll be in Dallas in a few weeks. That’s why she’s here.”
“Got it.”
They stepped inside the room, both stopping in their tracks when they saw Ashton Rhodes standing on the balcony, sharing a smoke with the reporter.
“What the hell is she doing here?” Karin muttered under her breath.
Good question. With a heavy sigh, Corbin followed his manager into the suite. They both plastered on smiles when the women walked into the room.
“Nice to meet you, Corbin. I’m Selena Taylor. Big fan of your music.”
“Thanks, Selena.”
Everyone sat down, with Ashton taking a seat directly across from Corbin. It was unusual for the label to sit in on interviews, so Corbin could only assume he’d done something wrong. Why else would Ashton be there, gazing at him so intently?
Selena turned on her recorder.
“Corbin, it’s great to have you back on the music scene. What’s brought you out of hiding?”
He’d only answered this question a thousand times this week, so he gave her his practiced response.
“I missed the fans, and I’m really proud of my new music. Callum Records made me an offer I couldn’t refuse, so here I am.”
Corbin glanced at Ashton, who was smiling.
Okay, so she’s not pissed. Why is she here?
“I understand you’ll be joining Indie Fest in OKC next week?”
Corbin nodded. “I can’t wait to get back to Oklahoma. The crowds have always been awesome there.”
“Your Texas fans have missed you, too,” Selena said.
“And I’ve missed them. We’ll be in Dallas in a few weeks.”
After a few more questions about the tour, Selena switched to more personal topics.
“Your new music seems to be more intimate now,” she said. “Has Corbin James finally grown up? Or has he just found his muse?”
“Both.”
He heard Ashton politely clear her throat, but Selena’s interest was piqued.
“Is that so? Care to elaborate?”
“I’ve done a lot of soul-searching over the past few years. I’ve had to. And with that, I’ve matured as a man. Naturally, that’s going to reflect in my songwriting.”
“And what about your muse? Are we to assume that Corbin James has found a reason to settle down?”
“I have.”
He thought he heard Ashton mutter a curse under her breath.
“Really? Is she in the music business?”
“Move along, Selena,” Karin said, her warning kind but firm.
The reporter got the hint and dropped the subject, moving on to questions about the upcoming album. While Corbin refused to lie about being in love, he wasn’t ready to expose Jolie to the rest of the world. The tabloids would circle like vultures, just hoping for a snapshot of Corbin James’ girlfriend.
“This was great,” Selena said, switching off her recorder. “I appreciate your time, Corbin. Can’t wait to see you in Dallas.”
“Thank you.”
“Thanks for coming, Selena. I’ll walk you out,” Karin said.
Ashton was still staring at him, so Corbin pretended to check his phone until his manager walked back into the room.
“Corbin, why don’t you check out the view from the balcony? I’d like to talk to Ashton. Alone.”
“No problem. I need to make some calls, anyway.”
Grateful to have an escape, Corbin put his sunglasses on and made his way out onto the balcony, leaving the door slightly open so he could eavesdrop. Leaning against the wall, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and placed it close to his ear, pretending to make a call.
“The label doesn’t usually send an exec to sit in on interviews. What are you doing here, Ashton?”
“It’s nice to see you, too, Karin.”
“Cut the crap. Do you have a problem with the way I’m handling Corbin’s press?”
“I have a problem with Corbin not playing by the rules. He is to appear single at all times. I’ve emphasized that, more than once. And yet, every time he’s asked about a girlfriend, he admits he has one. So, either you aren’t relaying my messages, or Corbin’s ignoring them. Which is it?”
“I don’t recall anything in Corbin’s contract saying he can’t have a girlfriend. Perhaps I need to call his lawyer to help me find it.”
“Karin, you know how this business works—”
“I know how you think it works, but Corbin James isn’t a teenage heartthrob anymore. He’s grown up, and so have his fans. I think they can handle the fact that he’s a man in love. The question is can you handle it?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know exactly what that means. You don’t give a shit about the fans. Your reputation precedes you, Ashton.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I saw the way you were gawking at him during that interview. It was far, far from professional. I’m warning you. Stay away from him. If you don’t, I’ll tell him to sue your ass for sexual harassment. From what I understand, it wouldn’t be the first time Callum Records had to go to court because you couldn’t keep your hands off the musicians. Don’t mess with me or my client. Are we clear?”
A deathly silence hung in the air until Corbin heard a slamming door.
“You can come in now. I know you were listening.”
Corbin stalked back into the room. “What the hell, Karin?”
“Remember when you wondered why I would willingly live on a tour bus for three months? She’s the reason. I wanted to be around in case she became a problem.”
“Is she going to be one?”
“She’d be committing career suicide if she tried. But, yeah, she could cause some issues. With the label. With the tabloids.”
“With Jolie?”
“Does she know Jolie?”
“Yeah. She’s even visited the bookstore.”
Karin cursed under her breath. Corbin felt his stomach bubble with panic. A pissed off studio exec was never good, but with his history of trouble, Ashton could really do some damage.
“I’ll handle her, Corbin.”
“You’d better. If not, I’ll pack my bags and be back in Riverview by dawn.”
“You’ll be in breach of contract.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.” He took a deep breath. “Sorry. Just, please—”
“I know. I’ll take care of it.”
Corbin thanked her and headed back to his room.
“Thanks for listening, guys. I’m Corbin James. Have a great night.”
The Troubadour audience roared as he walked off stage and carried his guitar back to his dressing room. Corbin had played an hour set—the longest he’d played in years—and he couldn’t deny it felt great. The crowd loved the new music, which gave him hope that he might not get booed off stage in Oklahoma City.
“Fantastic set,” Karin said, greeting him as he walked through the door to his dressing room. “I think I almost detected a smile while you were up there.”
Corbin grinned. “I’m trying.”
“You’re doing great. You sound even better. To
celebrate, I have a surprise for you.”
“Oh?”
“Ready to see your tour bus and meet your band?”
“Right now?”
“It’s parked out back.”
“Hell yes.”
Corbin placed his guitar in its case and followed Karin through the exit door leading to the back of the venue, where a sleek, black tour bus was waiting for him. It wasn’t the biggest bus he’d ever seen, but that didn’t matter. A tour bus meant no more hotels, and to Corbin, that sounded like heaven.
They climbed onboard, where Corbin shook hands with Zeke, the driver. He then followed Karin to the back, where three guys were sitting on the long couch next to the window.
“Corbin James,” one of them said in a thick Irish brogue. The man stood up and offered his hand. “I’m Liam Walsh. Keyboards. This is Randall Dillon on bass, and Jay Lockhart on drums.”
Corbin shook their hands and sat down with them on the leather couch. For the next hour, the guys got to know each other and took a tour of the bus. It was around midnight when the driver announced it was time to head out.
“That’s my cue,” Karin said. “According to Zeke, it’s 1,328 miles to Oklahoma City. I am taking one very large sleeping pill and climbing into a bunk.”
“You’re riding with us?” Randall asked.
“I am. Is having a girl on the bus gonna be a problem?”
Corbin grinned. It was obvious by the tone of her voice that she didn’t care if it was a problem or not.
Liam laughed. “Not for me. We’re picking up my wife in Albuquerque.”
“And mine’s meeting us in OKC,” Jay said.
Corbin wondered how much input Karin had in choosing his bandmates. Or, had the label chosen to surround him with older, married musicians to help keep him out of trouble? Either way, he was grateful.
“Wives and managers on the tour bus? That didn’t happen back in the good old days,” Randall said with a groan.
Okay, maybe we’re supposed to keep Randall out of trouble.
Liam smirked. “The good old days? What are you, eighteen?”
“Twenty. I’m just saying . . .”
“Randall, think about it this way,” Karin said. “More groupies for you.”
“That’s true. And for Corbin.”
“Not for me.” Corbin turned and smiled at his manager. “You’re not sleeping in a bunk. There’s a queen-size bed back there. Take it.”
She didn’t even argue. “Best client ever. Good night, boys.”
Randall waited until the door closed before turning to Corbin.
“So . . .” he said with a grin. “You and the manager?”
“Nope. I have a girlfriend back home.”
He shrugged. “I’m married. Doesn’t stop me.”
“Maybe it should.” Jay smirked.
“Speaking of which, I need to call my wife,” Liam said, standing up and heading toward the bunks. “Good night, boys.”
Jay and Randall headed back, too, leaving Corbin alone on the couch. He glanced down at his phone and sighed.
I wish I could call her.
He and Jolie talked every day on the phone, but it was much harder at night, due to the time difference. It was after three in the morning in Riverview. He’d have to call her tomorrow.
But he could journal tonight.
Corbin reached into his duffel, pulled out his journal, and began to write.
Dear Jolie,
It’s after midnight here in California. Tonight, I’m sleeping on my tour bus. It’s not huge, but it’s decent. My little home on wheels for the next three months. I’ll take a picture of it tomorrow and send it to you.
My band’s here, too. They seem like good guys, although the bassist reminds me a lot of myself when I was his age. He’s just twenty, but that seems like a lifetime ago. I’m such a different person now, and most of that is because of you.
We’re headed to OKC, which is still a long way from home, but a little bit closer than I am now.
I miss home. And you. So much.
Love, Corbin.
“I’m gonna puke.”
“You won’t puke. But if you do—”
“I thought you said I wouldn’t.”
“You won’t. But if you do, don’t do it on stage.”
Tonight was it. Corbin’s first show in Oklahoma City. Sound check was complete. Instruments were tuned. Everything was good to go.
Everything except Corbin.
He and Karin stood backstage, looking out at the crowd. It was a sight that never failed to amaze him, every single time.
“That’s a lot of people.”
“You should take it as a compliment,” she said.
“Why? They’re not here to see me. I’m just the opening act.”
Suddenly, the crowd began to chant his name.
Corbin! Corbin! Corbin!
Karin smirked.
“Shut up,” he muttered.
“I know what you need.” Karin placed her phone against his ear. “You’ve got fifteen minutes. Say hello.”
Corbin didn’t even glance at the phone. “Hello?”
“Is that the crowd?” Jolie asked.
Corbin sighed with relief. “Hi, sweetheart.”
“Seriously? They’re screaming your name?”
“Not screaming. More like chanting, I guess.”
“Still.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty crazy.”
“It’s incredible. You’re going to be incredible.”
“I’m going to puke.”
“Don’t puke on stage.”
Corbin chuckled. “I’m gonna try very hard not to.”
“Listen to me, Corbin James. You’re going to be amazing. As soon as it’s over, I want you to call me. I want to hear every single detail.”
“I love you, Jolie.”
“I love you, too. Now go sing for me.”
Those were exactly the words that Corbin needed to hear. Sing for me. Reminding him why he was there. And who was waiting for him at the end of the night.
“The boys want to pray,” Karin said. “Are you ready?”
He handed her the phone. “I’m ready. Thanks, Karin.”
Corbin walked over and joined his bandmates. The guys bowed their heads, and Liam led them in prayer.
“Amen,” they said in unison.
Corbin heard his name, and the crowd went wild as he and the band walked out on stage. Stepping up to the microphone, Corbin took a deep breath and gazed in awe at the audience. Old. Young. Black. White. Men. Women. Kids. They were all there, and they were all shouting his name.
Sing for me.
Corbin closed his eyes and began to play.
The next two weeks passed in a blinding blur for Corbin and the band. Oklahoma City to Tulsa. Tulsa to Fort Worth. Fort Worth to Austin. Austin to San Antonio.
Every show was sold out. Every show received rave reviews.
Tonight, they’d played Dallas, and to Corbin’s disappointment, Ashton had decided to make an appearance at the venue. After the show, she’d invited girls backstage. Randall had been thrilled, but Corbin and the rest of the guys weren’t amused. They smiled politely for pictures, but when one of the girls pulled out a joint, and another one offered them a bottle of booze, all the guys, except for Randall, headed to the bus.
“Look at you boys making good decisions,” Karin said as they climbed on board. “Except Randall, of course.”
“He’s young,” Corbin said, sitting down on the couch.
Liam grabbed three bottles of water out of the fridge and tossed one to each of his bandmates. “Young and dumb. Never a good combination.”
“Were we really that stupid?” Jay asked.
Corbin shrugged. “I don’t know about you, but I certainly was.”
“Me, too,” Liam said. “But I grew up.”
Corbin couldn’t be mad at the guy. Temptations were everywhere on the road, and as a young man, it was hard to turn them down. He cou
ldn’t help but wonder if that’s why Ashton came to the concert tonight. She knew what those girls had in mind when they came backstage, and she knew Corbin’s history. Was she purposely trying to sabotage him by resurrecting every demon he’d buried? Corbin hadn’t been tempted—not by the girls or the drugs—but the tabloids don’t care what’s fact or fiction. He knew one picture of him with a girl and a bottle would go viral in minutes, no matter how innocent the situation might be.
The guys went back to their bunks to call their wives, leaving Corbin and Karin alone on the couch.
“I’m proud of you,” Karin said.
“For what?”
“You’re doing great. The music’s awesome. The crowds are thrilled. The shows are sellouts, and you’re behaving yourself. Makes my job very easy.”
“You and my last manager should compare notes sometime. I used to be a handful.”
Karin laughed. “It’s amazing what the love of a good woman can do.”
Corbin nodded, although he knew addiction didn’t really work that way. Good woman or not, the cravings were always there, and on the road, there’s plenty of trouble to find. But this time, his mind was strong, and his heart was focused on three things.
Sing his songs. Go to his bus. Talk to his girl.
Their phone calls, texts, and Skype chats were the absolute best part of his days. Jolie tried hard to seem upbeat, but last night, he’d noticed she was having to fake it just a little more than usual. The loneliness was getting to both of them, and he’d only been gone two weeks. Three months would seem like an eternity.
“Karin? What’s Ashton’s deal?”
“She’s pissed because I told her to keep her hands off you.”
“So her little visit tonight was retaliation? Send some girls and drugs backstage and let’s send a picture to the tabloids?”
Karin scrolled through her phone. “Probably. The picture of the girls with the band is already online. No drugs in sight, though.”
“Jolie will see that picture.”
“It’s totally innocent, Corbin. See?”
He glanced at the screen. Karin was right. Just him and the band, smiling next to the girls.
“If the girls take more pictures, you won’t be in them. Randall, however . . .”
“That’s Randall’s problem. Not mine.”
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