Crazy About Curves: 10 Luscious Reads

by Adriana Hunter

  As Rob walked through the door, Liam rose from the piano bench. He embraced Rob with one arm while he thumped him on the back with the other.

  “How you feeling, man?” Liam’s concern was genuine. This was Rob’s second stint in rehab in less than a year.

  “That whole thing is bullshit, you know?” Rob twirled his drumsticks in his hands.

  “Uh ...” Having been in rehab, Liam knew it wasn’t a glorified vacation—at least not if you wanted to stay clean.

  “The suits should be happy though, right? It’s all good for the tour.” Rob tapped out a short lick on the tabletop.

  “So, you think you got a handle on things?” Neither Liam nor Sean, their other bandmate, did drugs, but Rob always seemed able to find plenty of trouble on his own.

  “Absolutely. Gotta be more careful, that’s all.”

  “Rob ...” Liam had been through his wild phase, but put it behind him. He hoped Rob was able to do the same.

  “Anyway, where’s Sean?” Rob paced the floor, twirling his drumsticks in his hands.

  A tall, lanky man with sandy hair appeared in the doorway, carrying an instrument. “Did someone call my name?”

  Rob spun a drumstick into the air and caught it. “About time you showed up, slacker. What’s the world coming to when I’m more prompt than you?”

  “Hell in a hand basket, that’s for sure.” Sean placed his bass case on the floor.

  Usually, Liam enjoyed the irreverence of his band mates, but today it rubbed him the wrong way. The release date for their album was set, but he still wasn’t happy with a few of the tracks. The record label was hounding them, and they had a tour to prepare for.

  Liam bit back his thoughts. He didn’t want to spend all day smoothing things over. “I thought we’d practice and work out some rough spots today. Jared’s ready to come do the engineering whenever we’re ready.”

  Rob rolled his eyes. “We don’t need a record company watch dog.”

  Liam frowned at Rob’s characterization. “He’s not a watch dog. He’s an engineer and he’s good.” Jared had done most of the work on the tracks they’d already finalized.

  Rob dismissed Liam’s statement with a wave. “Whatever. I say we find a few ladies and go for a sail. I called my guy and it’s all arranged. We just need the ladies.”

  Sean snapped his fingers. “I think an ocean breeze is what I need to clear my mind.”

  Rob pulled out his phone. “It’s settled then. I’ll make a few calls and find us some company.”

  Liam held up his hands. “Whoa, guys. I’m all for down time, but we haven’t done any work yet. Why don’t we save the sail for a celebration after we finish?” This was ridiculous. Five minutes and Rob was proposing they knock off for a party.

  “What are you? My grandma?” Rob’s attitude had never been good and rehab didn’t seem to have improved it.

  Liam crossed his arms. “Seriously guys, we need to wrap this shit up.”

  Rob stuck his drumsticks in his back pocket and scrolled through the contacts on his phone. “Sean and I are going for a sail. You going or not? Bring your freaking guitar with you. We’ll play on the boat. The girls will love it.”

  Liam breathed in deep and exhaled through his mouth. Today was not the day to start something. “Fine. All right. It’s cool. We’ll practice on the boat.”

  Liam loved his bandmates. He really did. They were the brothers he never had. But sometimes, just like real brothers, they drove him to distraction. This wasn’t the first time they’d butted heads and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

  ~ * ~ * ~

  Liam walked down the gangplank with a loose, relaxed stride. He’d had his doubts about the boat trip, but they’d worked out a few of the kinks that had been causing them problems and even brainstormed on a new song. Both Sean and Rob managed to consume alcohol without getting drunk. He could have done without the groupies, but they mostly left him alone when he hadn’t shown any interest in them. Overall, he’d call it a success.

  Liam slowed as he stepped onto the dock. The wood was wet and slippery.

  “Don’t leave already, Liam,” a female voice shouted behind him. The gangplank shook as she ran down.

  Liam turned and saw one of the women coming toward him. Rachel? Rochelle? He didn’t remember. She wore nothing but a bikini and her chest bounced along with her.

  “Don’t let me stop the party, but I’ve got to be going.” Liam turned away.

  “No way. Rob’s taking for us out for seafood, and we can go dancing later.” She did a little shimmy for his benefit.

  Liam shook his head and transferred his guitar case to his other hand. “Yeah. No. I can’t.”

  Before he could stop her, the woman wrapped her arms around him, plastering her body against his.

  Liam almost dropped his guitar. “Hey, hey. I don’t mean to be rude, but can you let me go?”

  She smacked a big kiss right on his lips. “Of course, sweetie, but you don’t know what you’re missing.” She turned and flounced away.

  Liam hated it when people invaded his space. He enjoyed his fans but sometimes they got a little too enthusiastic. He hurried to his car and stowed his guitar in the passenger seat.

  He couldn’t wait to see Shelley.

  ~ * ~ * ~

  Shelley turned her phone over after it rang. She didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Shelley Taylor?” The female voice was brisk and clipped.

  “Yes?” Apparently, it wasn’t a wrong number.

  “Pinky Hopper from Glitz and Gossip. We’re running Liam on the cover and looking for a quote from you on the status of your relationship.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Status of their relationship? What did that mean?

  “You and Liam. Where do you stand?” The reporter paused, waiting for an answer.

  “I don’t have any comment,” Shelley said firmly.

  “You can stick with that, but I doubt you want to look pathetic when the photos break.”

  Shelley jerked in her seat. “Pathetic?”

  “I guess Liam hasn’t told you.” The journalist sounded almost gleeful.

  “Told me what?”

  “Uh huh. I see. How do you feel about Liam going on tour soon? Will you miss him?”

  “I’m not talking to you. I have nothing to say.” Shelley ended the call. Her hands shook and she dropped her phone. How had that woman gotten her number? How did Liam put up with the constant hounding from fans and photographers? The invasion of privacy was unreal. Many of the fans were great, polite and respectful, but she knew some stepped over the line. Being photographed all the time was uncomfortable. Shelley wasn’t fond of photographs at the best of times. Being splashed across supermarket magazines would be intolerable.

  Chapter 6

  Liam crossed the restaurant, oblivious to the interested stares he attracted. Sean was already seated at the table with David, their agent.

  “Hey, David. What’s this about?” David’s call that morning woke him out of a sound sleep.

  Sean shook his head. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? It’s Rob. I’m guessing he wasn’t invited.”

  David gestured toward the empty seat. “Liam.”

  “You didn’t invite Rob?” Liam asked.

  David signaled the waiter for another drink. “No, I didn’t. First because I wanted to talk to you guys without him, and second because I don’t want him having a meltdown.”

  “Rob doesn’t have meltdowns.” Liam knew that wasn’t completely true, but he was hoping it would be in the future.

  David waved off Liam’s protest. “He does, but let’s get right to the point. The label is concerned. They’re concerned about Rob and his ability to handle the promotion and touring necessary for the album.”

  “He’s fine,” Sean insisted, breaking his silence.

  “He’s not. Don’t blow smoke up my ass. You know he’s not fine. He’s one party away from a front page tabloid spread.”
/>   “We’re keeping an eye on him.” Liam nodded to Sean for confirmation.

  “That’s right,” Sean agreed.

  “I hope so and ... the record company is concerned. They only thought one track sounded commercial enough to be released as a single. That doesn’t make them happy.”

  Liam’s eyes narrowed. “Let me get this straight. They don’t think our album is commercial enough?”

  David coughed. “Not my words. Theirs. I’m just the messenger.”

  A muscle in Liam’s jaw twitched. “Do they get that our whole career is built on not being obviously commercial?”

  “You’re right. I get it, but they want something that is radio friendly.”

  “F—”

  “Wait,” David broke in. “Before you get all up in arms, I think they’d be satisfied with a little remixing. Seriously, a few production changes and I think you guys would be set.”

  “Should we add a dance beat? Would that make it more palatable?” Liam was steaming. Who did they think they were? They’d been more than happy to distribute their last album, which went multi-platinum with three top-ten singles. They didn’t think the band wasn’t commercial enough then.

  Sean flicked his water glass with his finger. The ping, ping silenced Liam. “I don’t like what I’m hearing. Liam’s right. Our fans won’t like that bullshit. If we release some overproduced pablum, the critics will savage us and the fans won’t buy it. It’s not us.”

  David leaned in closer. “I agree. You guys are right, but you could make a couple minor changes. Seem like you’re taking what they say seriously without compromising your sound. Know what I mean?”

  Liam drummed his fingers on the table. “No, David. We don’t know what you mean.”

  David pointed, first at Liam and then Sean. “Go back in the studio. Change up a few of the songs, just a little. We’ll send the stuff back to them. Honestly, I think they want to feel in control. That’s it. If you guys appear to be making an effort to meet them part way, I think they’ll go for it. After they get the updates, I’ll give them a gentle reminder about what your fans are expecting. It’ll all be golden.”

  “This sounds like wasted effort.” Liam swore under his breath.

  David shook his finger. “Not wasted effort. Like it or not, it’s good business. They distribute. They promote. Make them feel like they have a hand in the production. If they green light everything right off, it makes them feel like they’re not doing their job. Yes, it’s bullshit, but it’s compromise, too. Not a lot. A tiny amount.”

  “We don’t need them,” Sean said.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. But you have a contract. A good one. A favorable one. I say diddle with a few of the tracks and send them back. It’ll be a done deal and we can all gear up for the tour.”

  “It’s stupid,” Liam said.

  “It’s business,” David countered. “Now let’s order some lunch.”

  ~ * ~ * ~

  “Stupid suits. It’s all ridiculous.” Liam rubbed the back of his neck.

  “If you really don’t want to ...” Shelley wasn’t sure how to comfort Liam. Lunch with his agent had clearly put him in a bad mood.

  Liam sighed. “I don’t, but it’s probably not the time to draw more attention to the band. The label is already on edge about Rob.”

  “I’m sorry, Liam.” Now didn’t seem like the time to bring up the phone call from Pinky whatever her name was the other day.

  Liam paced back and forth. “David’s right. A few little changes will probably be enough.”

  “It’s going to be great. The fans will love it.” Shelley had heard the recordings and thought they were terrific.

  “I hope so.” Liam turned toward the counter. “What the hell?” He picked up the magazine and swatted it back down. A large portion of the cover was taken up with a photograph of him with the girl from the boat. “Where did this come from?”

  “It was in my mailbox.” Shelley intended to toss it in the trash, but hadn’t yet.

  “Shelley, I can explain this. We went for a sail. I told you about that. That girl. I don’t even know her name. She grabbed me.”

  “Liam, I’m not upset about the picture. I mean I am, but probably not for the reasons you think.” When she first saw the picture, her breath froze for a moment, but then the details of the picture came into focus.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s obvious you’re irritated. Look at the expression on your face. Her arms are around you, not the other way around. Your hand is on her shoulder and it looks almost like you are pushing her away.”

  “I was. I never even saw who took the picture.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think you did anything wrong. I mean, we don’t have any understanding, but I don’t think you’re with that woman.”

  Liam flipped the magazine over, hiding the picture. “We absolutely have an understanding. We’re dating. I’m not seeing anyone else. I don’t want you to see anyone else, either.”

  “Oh, wow.” Shelley’s lips parted in surprise.

  “So, if it isn’t that woman, then what?”

  “You know a reporter called me about that? She wasn’t nice.”

  “Who was it?”

  “It doesn’t matter. If it hadn’t been her, it would be someone else. You deal with this every day. Paparazzi, fawning women, crazy fans, gossip rags. I don’t know if I have it in me.”

  “I try not to let it get to me.”

  Shelley threw up her hands. “It isn’t that easy, Liam.”

  Liam rubbed his forehead with his fingers. “I don’t have that much control over what others do, Shelley.”

  “I’m not blaming you. It’s not a question of blame.”

  “We can try to minimize it, but with a new album and the tour, people are going to be looking at me—at the band. In fact, the label, publicists, everyone is going to be promoting. There are going to be interviews, some of which I can control, but—”

  “Liam, stop. It’s okay. We’ll see how it goes, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I have misgivings. My life is pretty quiet. I don’t really have groupies.”

  “I beg to differ. I’m totally your groupie.” Liam smiled and pulled her into his embrace. The conflict evaporated as quickly as it had come.

  Shelley laughed. “Okay. You can be my groupie.”

  ~ * ~ * ~

  Liam handed Rob a beer. “Rob, listen. Sean and I wanted to talk to you.”

  “About what?” Rob took a long drink from his beer bottle.

  “No biggie. We got word that the label would like a few changes in the album.” Liam hid his irritation, hoping to minimize Rob’s reaction.

  Rob slammed his bottle down on the table. “What? No freaking way. What’s going on? Who told you that?”

  “David. David told us,” Sean said.

  “You two talked to David. Without me. What the hell?”

  Liam moved the bottle out of Rob’s reach. “Don’t get all paranoid. We’re telling you now. He let us know what the label is thinking—their concerns about the album.”

  “That’s bullshit. There’s nothing wrong with the album.”

  “I know. I know. It is, but making a few changes will go a long way toward reassuring them about the tour.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Liam knew he’d said the wrong thing.

  Rob’s head jerked. “What reassurances do they need about the tour?”

  “There are some concerns,” Liam said.

  “Who has concerns? What concerns?” Rob looked ready to explode.

  Liam took a step back. “That you are ready to tour. Ready for the pressures of a tour.”

  “Where the hell is this coming from?” Rob demanded.

  “Don’t get upset. You just came out of rehab. It’s only natural that there would be questions.” Liam exhaled, searching for the right words that would take the sting out of the situation for Rob.

  “You’ve been to rehab.” Rob stabbed his finger in Liam’s direction.
>
  “Yeah, but I didn’t just get out. Plus, you’ve been partying pretty hard since you got out.”

  “There is no way we’re pushing off this tour. I need the money, man. I could lose my house.” Rob flopped back on the sofa.

  “How is that possible? No, wait. I don’t want to know.” Rob had blown eight figures on a ten bedroom house, which he’d promptly turned into a huge man cave.

  “I’m depending on the money. I got guys I have to pay.”

  “Guys? Rob ...”

  Rob held up his hand. “Don’t push me. I don’t want to talk about it. We didn’t all get to make a successful solo album.”

  Liam rubbed his forehead. Rob still hadn’t let go of his resentment over Liam making an album by himself. “Rob, we’re letting you know. I know you’re good.”

  “You’re letting me know. Sean hasn’t said a damn thing. Sean?”

  Sean shrugged. “The stuff about the tracks is BS. We all know it. The suits are trying to exert control. As for the other, I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?” Rob snapped.

  Sean took a swig of his beer. “That’s what I said. I don’t know.”

  “I don’t need this shit.” Rob moved toward the door.

  Liam swore. “Don’t go. That’s exactly the kind of thing that makes people nervous, man. You fly off the handle and no one knows what’s going to happen.”

  Rob turned toward Liam. “You want me to go, don’t you? You guys want to replace me.”

  “No. We don’t. Dude, just stop. Pull yourself together. Show everyone they’re wrong. Do that.”

  Rob straightened. “Fine. I will.”

  Chapter 7

  His neck itched and Liam ran his finger under the collar of his shirt. His attorney insisted on suit and tie. She said it would look better and score points with the judge.

  “All rise.”

  Liam’s mind wandered as preliminaries about the case were hashed out. His attorney touched his arm and he looked up.

  “So, Mr. Smith. Your attorney submits that you reached a settlement with the restaurant owner and it’s been paid. Is that correct?” The judge looked right down her nose at him, her disapproval was palpable.