“Fine,” I grouched. “Maybe they’ll come in useful if I get in a cat fight with her.”
Vanessa chuckled as she sauntered to the door, knotting her coat belt tightly around her. “They do come in handy for that.”
With a hug, she was out the door, and the rest of my quiet weekend was over in the blink of an eye. Monday, Kiki and I were in the studio together, messing around with a duet we’d be performing between my set and hers when our concert tour began. Though our friendship was still budding, Kiki was quickly becoming one of my closest confidants. Not many people knew the pitfalls and loneliness that could accompany fame.
During a quiet lull in the constant string of music and back and forth bantering, I spouted, “Sorry for calling you weird.”
Kiki regarded me with her big brown eyes, her face screwed up with confusion. “What?”
“The first time we met. Well, actually before we’d met. You were standing in the doorway, and Troy had just told me who I’d be touring with, and I said you were weird…”
“Oh, that,” she said dismissively, waving away my apology with her hand. “As a matter of truth, I am weird. It’s my eccentricities that my fans adore. ‘No great genius has ever existed without some touch of madness.’ Aristotle, you know.”
Her quote caught me off guard, and it reminded me of the first time Collin and I had met. Emotions tightened around my throat and constricted my voice. All I managed to choke out was, “I love Aristotle.”
Kiki looked at me thoughtfully and managed not to laugh. “I can tell.”
I tamed my feelings and pointed out, “Respectfully, though, I’d disagree that your fans love you merely for your peculiarities. You’re incredibly talented, and your voice is so unique. Don’t discount your normalcy.”
My phone trilled in my pocket and I pulled it out, hoping it was a text from Collin. He’d only been in town for the day and had flown out to Boston after the conference in New York City had finished that evening. Seeing him so briefly was almost worse than not seeing him at all.
“It’s Collin!” I jumped off my stool, nearly knocking over a music stand full of sheet music.
“You sure you’re actually dating and not just an obsessive fan of his?” Kiki asked, amused.
Sticking my tongue out at her, I read his message:
Turn TV to channel 5
“Where’s the TV remote?” I asked, opening cabinets and drawers in a desperate frenzy.
“Upper left cabinet,” Kiki said, pointing.
I flung the door open and was bombarded by an avalanche of equipment falling out. Sorting through the cords and microphones and tuners, I found the remote and left the mess to clean up later. Turning on a large flat screen on the wall, I flipped through the channels just in time to see a clip of Collin walking out onto a stage with the StarTech logo plastered on the back. This filled the screen while other news headlines flashed along the bottom. He stood confidently behind a small podium and began addressing the audience, who I assume were mostly reporters. My heart swelled with pride. My boyfriend was on national television. I hated to admit it, but Jill had excellent taste and had him looking like he belonged in a menswear ad in a tailored three-piece suit.
He answered questions from the audience professionally, occasionally interjecting some humor to keep things light. When someone asked him a question about the schematics of a rocket that was projected onto a large screen nearby, Collin’s eyes lit up at the chance to talk about the engineering behind the company. Eagerly, he unbuttoned his suit coat and draped it over the podium, quipping with the audience that he needed to roll up his sleeves to properly answer. He grabbed a model component of the rocket and stepped out from behind the podium to explain. Almost immediately, a swell of laughter in the audience began, and my embarrassment on his behalf spread like a rash. Squinting, I strained to see his pants.
“Is his zipper undone?” Kiki snickered.
I groaned and dropped my head into my hands. Before I could curse Jill for not catching his undone zipper—seriously, what good was a personal assistant if they didn’t make sure you didn’t look like an idiot when you were in front of live cameras?—she scampered out onto the stage, to a very confused looking Collin. My eyes narrowed and a twinge of anger flickered in my gut when I saw how closely she pressed her body to his, whispering in his ear. Then, in a very unmistakable move, she reached down and zipped Collin’s pants for him.
Collin’s eyes widened slightly. The audience roared with laughter, and the resentment I’d been feeling toward Jill exploded into full-fledged fury, erupting from my pores the way lava oozes out of a volcano. I couldn’t hear anything around the ringing in my ears, and I watched Collin compose himself and deliver what I’m sure was a very informative press conference.
The news moved on to something else, and I flicked off the television. If I could have, I would’ve leapt through the screen to strangle Jill where she stood, poised and clapping happily after she’d groped my boyfriend for the whole world to see.
“That Jill’s a snake in the grass,” Kiki said, with a grin still on her lips.
My body trembled with anger, and I needed to hit something. Finding a pair of drumsticks in the pile of rubble that had fallen from the cabinet, I grabbed them and went into the studio, slamming the door behind me.
It must have been a good half an hour later that I finally came out, the anger having flowed out into the drum set enough that it was manageable. I hadn’t noticed Troy enter the room. His eyes were focused on me while he chatted with Kiki.
“Feel better?” she asked as I came out of the studio.
“A bit,” I answered wearily.
Troy stood with his hands tucked in his back pockets, looking handsome as sin in an ivory button up shirt that set off his tawny skin and jeans that fit his legs just right. “Something the matter?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and hissed out a sigh between my clenched teeth. Kiki grabbed the drumsticks out of my hand and answered for me. “Ruby’s boyfriend is under siege.” She left us alone, taking her turn on the drum set, which she knew her way around like the back of her hand. I’d never seen her play it in any of her other concert footage—she was always too busy strutting around in whatever bizarre, haute couture fashion someone had dreamed up but no woman with a shred of common sense would wear anywhere other than a Halloween costume party. It was a pity. So much of Kiki’s talent was untapped and largely unknown to her fans.
“Under siege?” Troy repeated. “By who?”
I realized how little I’d spoken about Collin. In my effort to keep Troy at an arm’s length so as not to unwittingly let him wriggle his way into my heart, I’d avoided opening up about much of anything, including Collin. Everything he knew about me was superficial.
“Collin was just on the news, and his personal assistant basically groped him on national television.”
“And Collin’s your boyfriend?” Troy questioned.
“You’ve met him before. Right after my audition, remember? He’s the one who started posting videos for me,” I scoffed stubbornly.
“Hey,” Troy said, holding up his hands like I was pointing a shotgun at his chest, “he wasn’t introduced by anyone as your boyfriend and the way you talk about him makes him sound more like your manager.” Deflated, I knew he was right. I wasn’t about to admit it was because of the attraction I’d felt for Troy that I kept him from getting too close. On the contrary, it’d made me minimize Collin and how vital he was to me. “So, what’d she do that was so bad?”
I related the incident, and Troy’s entire body started rocking with censored laughter. I wanted to kick him. Hard. But, my resolve crumbled, and the second I let the first snort out, the built-up tension eased out of my body.
“If I walked onto stage with my pants unzipped, I’d expect you to help me out,” Troy said with a wink. He swiveled his office chair, and our knees bumped. I couldn’t help but notice how genuine and comfortable his smile was and how talking wit
h him seemed so natural. Inhaling, I let his scent linger, buzzing its way through my brain.
I must have still looked glum because Troy leaned forward and placed his hand on mine. Warmth shot up my arm. It should have made me uncomfortable—I know that if I’d seen Jill do the same thing to Collin (and I had, multiple times over our na’an bread and butter chicken), I’d be furious. Something about Troy’s touch was familiar, and I didn’t want to pull away.
I caught a glimpse of Kiki and noticed she was staring at us through the glass dividing the room. She was a master of keeping her emotions guarded, but something about her look made a shiver rattle down my back. Was she jealous of Troy’s attention? Or was her look a warning that if I kept letting Troy crack away at my feelings, I’d be on dangerous ground where I could lose Collin forever? I slipped my hand out from under Troy’s and pushed my hair behind my ear. I didn’t bother to see if Kiki was still staring and judging.
“Probably just as well that you’re worked up over this. Strong emotions make for great songwriting,” Troy said, leaning back in his squeaky office chair.
I cocked my head and looked at him quizzically. “I thought we weren’t doing any serious composing and were only focusing on recording so we could start getting singles out.”
“You kind of have to write when inspiration strikes. We can always come back to it.”
“True. But also, I’m going to need time to prepare for the concert. If Harper Music doesn’t want me landing flat on my face every time I go out in public, I’m going to need practice dancing in heels.”
“Yeah…” Troy said, rubbing his fingers along the edge of his jawline.
“Yeah, what?”
“Yeah, we need to get you dancing in some heels.”
Kiki walked out of the studio and leaned on the door jam, still clutching her drumsticks. She flicked her bangs out of her face and said, “I don’t think Ruby’s talking about pole dancing lessons.”
My eyeballs about jettisoned from my sockets. “Kiki!”
Troy leaned back in his chair looking too comfortable with the idea for my liking. Chuckling, he said, “Probably not.”
“Definitely not,” I corrected.
“You’re going to have to learn to have some fun,” Troy said, jiggling his leg.
“So, what do you have in mind?”
Chapter Fifteen
“You’re sure I have to wear all…this?” I gestured from my voluminous, curled hair down to the strappy sandals with the most ridiculously pointy heels anyone had the audacity to create.
Harrison looked at me over the rims of his glasses with an undeniable frown. Literally, he was sewing me into my clothes. Mumbling around the pins in his mouth, he said, “I work for Harper Music, and they say ‘Make her sexy,’ and I make you sexy. This is all about the publicity. You have to outshine all the other celebrities that will be there and they’ll be pulling out all the stops as well.”
I held in a grumble but not for lack of comfort. Though the bodice of the dress was stiff to keep its shape, there were a few small elastic gullets along the darts that allowed me to breathe. I did have to hand it to wardrobe for taking into account my need for oxygen. It was all for a good cause, I supposed. It turned out, Troy had been talking about attending a charity dance and dinner when he was thinking of opportunities for me to practice my skills in heels, not trying out my skills in an occupation that would have made my mother die of shame. To top it off, Collin had been given permission to come. Antonio prided himself as a philanthropist, and StarTech would carry out that part of his legacy. Knowing Collin would be in attendance, I was almost as jittery as I was on our first date. He’d get to see me in all my makeup-ed, curly haired, sparkly dress glory.
“You really think I look good?”
Harrison tied off the thread and clipped it with a pair of shears. “I save all my best work for you.”
I snorted and shook my head. “You do not. I think you’d be happy earning a name on any celebrity that’ll take a chance on your outfits.”
Harrison shrugged, “Can’t blame a man for trying.”
I wobbled over to the mirror in my heels and slowly turned. I loved the shimmering gold material and all the strategically placed sequins of the dress. My one complaint was I wished the hemline was about six inches longer but at least with all the grueling morning workouts I’d been subjected to, my thighs were slim and toned, even without being Photoshopped to high heaven.
“I’ll do my best to impress.”
Giving me a quick squeeze, Harrison said, “That’s all a designer can hope for. Have fun tonight.”
He left with his sewing box as Kiki strutted into the room in an edgy black number that made her look like she was living the life of a post-apocalyptic heroine. Teetering on my heels, I grabbed onto the back of a nearby chair to keep from rolling an ankle. “Are you sure I have to wear these things?”
“Jill’s coming tonight, right?”
Her name alone prickled me with irritation. “So I’m told.”
“Jill is confident; that’s what she has over you. You’ve got to exude boldness, even when you’re scared out of your mind. Those sandals,” she tapped my foot with the toe of hers, “are bold.”
“Ready?” Troy strolled into the room in a slim fitting tux with a gold sash. I forced myself to look away so I wouldn’t dwell on how nicely his broad shoulders fit into his coat.
“Nice sash,” Kiki noted.
“You like it? I thought Ruby and I could dress to match.”
His simple declaration made all the hairs on my arms stand at attention. I met Troy’s hazel eyes, and his earnestness caught me off guard. Before I could figure out how to answer, Kiki responded for me. “Ruby already has a date. Collin’s coming.”
Troy studied me for a few silent moments, and I squirmed as his eyes seemed to bore into me. Finally, he said, “Well let’s not keep him waiting.”
Harper Music sent the three of us over in a limo, and I allowed myself to enjoy the luxuriousness of the moment. A girl could get used to this. When we pulled up to the curb, a long stretch of red carpet led past a high banner where attendees were required to pass in front of photographers to enter. Peering out the darkened car window, I watched as all the guests grinned and posed under a constant barrage of flashing lights.
Kiki stepped out first, waving like a queen to the crowd who instantly recognized her, causing the shrieks to increase tenfold. Troy held out his hand, and I took it, sliding out carefully, well aware Harrison had put me in one of the shortest dresses I’d ever worn.
Screaming fans leaned over the barriers, some crying hysterically and all reaching for Kiki as she signed autographs and posed for selfies. I looked around, wondering if Collin had shown up yet when I saw George hanging back out of the spotlight and speaking with a few cameramen. Troy gripped my elbow and guided me over to him.
“You’re up next,” George said, all business.
“Nice to see you too,” I teased.
George cracked a small smile. “No rest for the weary. Not if you want to land on the top, anyway.” George turned and spoke to a no nonsense woman who seemed to be orchestrating everyone’s entrance into the event, then turned to look around. “Kiki. Time’s up. We need to get you inside. The event is starting soon.”
Kiki kissed to her fans and confidently strutted over, then George pushed the three of us toward the bright lights blazing overhead like the noonday sun. Either the heat of the bulbs or the massive number of cameras pointed in our direction made beads of sweat pop out along my hairline. Before we were front and center, I turned to ask, “Um, George? Have you seen my boyfriend, Collin?”
“What’s he look like?”
“Tall, blue eyes, dark hair, looks like Clark Kent without the glasses…”
“So, Superman?” Troy muttered.
“Yeah, like Superman,” I smiled at the thought. “He’s here with StarTech.”
George’s brow furrowed as he pondered, but he shook hi
s head. “Can’t say that I have. Tell you what, if I see him out here before I head in, I’ll let him know you’re looking for him.”
I nodded, feeling a bit dejected. I’d wanted to walk in together. Not just so I could use his arm for balance but as a sort of official statement that we were an item, and Collin Moore was off the market, in case anyone was wondering.
Troy seemed to have intuitively picked up on my sulking, so he offered his arm to escort me in. I gratefully took it and glued a wide smile on, like losing my vision in front of flashing cameras was my idea of fun. Even with all the lights and the commotion and shouting—I supposed George had told everyone my name—I was keenly aware of Troy’s hand, which slipped from my arm and crept downward, landing somewhere near where my back ended and my rear end began. His fingertips pressed into my hips and he drew me close to his side. The whole thing felt like a conundrum: safe and stable, not staggering on my own in heels while at the same time, making me uneasy, hoping Collin didn’t arrive just then and see me squished up next to Troy.
“Time to get in there,” Kiki announced, shoving her way between us and leading the way inside.
The event was set up in what appeared to be an enormous, old repurposed railroad station. Massive, colorful paintings were being auctioned for charity to one side, and on the other, dozens of round tables were set up under dimmed lighting. At the front, a stage was occupied by a band playing jazzy background music while patrons mingled and ate fancy hors d’oeuvres off silver platters passed around by the servers. By far, it was the most glitzy party I’d ever been invited to attend.
Kiki wandered off, waving at someone she wanted to rub shoulders with—was that Julia Roberts she was talking to??—and Troy excused himself to get a drink. I was left standing in front of a large canvas, covered with a smattering of playful colors, silently nibbling the bottom of my lip.
“Ruby!” I heard above the din of the crowd. I spun and saw Collin hurrying toward me. He was wearing a tux, but his tie was undone and draped around his neck, and the top of his starched white shirt was unbuttoned. Unpolished, yes, but he looked ridiculously handsome.
When a Star Falls (Stars Book 1) Page 12