I caught myself before I tripped and managed to plaster a fake, glittering smile on my face, waving like the Queen of England to the audience. When I reached Abilene, she took my hands in hers and I graciously thanked her for having me.
Sitting on the edge of the cushy armchair as I’d been coached—slouching back into it was a no-no because the bad posture made me look lazy and disengaged—I knit my fingers together and wrapped them around my kneecaps.
“Welcome to Chicago, Ruby.”
“I’m happy to be here, Abilene,” I said with a chipperness that edged toward manic. Forgetting all about my legs, slathered in oil, I crossed one over the other and immediately, my calf slipped off my knee faster than a greased snake gliding through Crisco. My foot hit the ground with a decided thud, and I laughed breathlessly, wondering if my awkwardness was terribly apparent. I shifted in my seat and tried crossing the opposite leg to the same effect. Kiki’s pointer about arranging my ankles had long gone out the window, and instead, I clenched my thighs together as tightly as I could. Whoever the higher up was who had told Harrison to put me in this wretchedly short dress was going to get an earful as soon as I had the chance. My thighs started trembling with the effort, like they did when my trainer expected me to do squats with the equivalent of half my body weight laid across my shoulders on the barbell. Even the threat of cramping thigh muscles was not going to make me sit another way. I’d die before anyone saw my unmentionables on national television.
Abilene and I exchanged polite chit-chat, and I felt myself relax. The bitter rancor I felt at Collin being at the completely wrong studio—he wasn’t even in the right time zone, for crying out loud!—was forgotten enough that I felt like I could be present for the interview. I knew my time was brief and George had constantly been coaching me to make myself as memorable as possible, so I injected as many jokes and howling laughter as I could to the otherwise superficial questions I was being asked.
“Do you have a special someone?” Abilene asked, watching me with her silvery blue eyes. Suddenly, I felt a lump in my throat that made my voice thick with emotion.
“Actually, yes, I do.”
“Care to tell us about him?”
I tried to sum up Collin, his gorgeousness, his clever wit, his incredible genius, but everything I said about him seemed inadequate. I left out the gory, complicated details of our most recent stage of courtship and how we seemed to be teetering back and forth on the brink of a breakup.
“And how did you two meet?”
“In a college physics course. He was subbing on a very temporary basis, and after class, he chased me down after I’d forgotten some of my compositions under my chair. He tripped, we had a tumble through the grass…the rest is history.”
“So,” Abilene said, sitting back in her chair, “your boyfriend is a ruggedly handsome rocket scientist who is the spokesman for an up and coming space company that’s projected to be a Fortune 500 company?”
My eyes darted back and forth as my brain analyzed if what she said was true. “Yep,” I blurted.
Abilene barked out a laugh along with the audience. “I tell you, you are one lucky lady—talented, beautiful, and you got the Prince Charming. You have it all!”
When she put it like that, the realization of how great my life really was hit me like a bolt of lightning. I really did have it all.
“Ruby Hawkins, everyone! Thank you and we look forward to hearing your newest single at the end of the show!”
I stood, my trembling thighs practically giving way as I clambered to my feet, waving and blowing a kiss to the audience. I could barely see beyond the glare of overhead lighting, and though I couldn’t see their faces well, I appreciated their enthusiasm. The show cut for a commercial break and George came out to fetch me, guiding me to the safety of backstage. I half expected him to start chewing me out—he had never-ending and plentiful criticism of my public appearances—but he surprised me with praise instead.
“Well done with the tearing up. Way to keep the audience engaged in your story. This Collin guy is good for your career,” George chattered happily as he accompanied me to a warmup area where Kiki was just leaving to go perform.
“Yeah,” Kiki agreed. “You’re making me want to date Collin.”
I raised a confident eyebrow. “And what makes you think you could steal him away from me?”
Kiki tipped her head back and let out a mocking laugh. “Ruby, you don’t even want to try that with me. Kiki gets what Kiki wants.”
I shook my head and smiled as she strutted away from me, toward the stage. It was just Troy and me left in the mint green room that smelled faintly of lavender and leather couches. I hummed, then shifted to arpeggios while taking sips of water to get my singing voice ready. The whole time, Troy played around on his guitar, barely acknowledging I was in the room. He was acting so strangely lately, ever since our appearance together in Detroit. I started daydreaming about when I first met Collin and how simple life was back then. Love was literally all I needed.
George returned after Kiki finished her set, and out of the blue, I told him, “I want to perform Heart on Fire.”
George looked at me blankly, his eyelids blinking several times in rapid succession. “You want to do what?”
“I want to perform Heart on Fire instead of Dark Clouds,” I said. Part of me felt like a sassy teenager complaining that she wasn’t getting her way.
“We’re here to promote Dark Clouds,” George said simply. I’m not going to change what Mr. Drake’s plans are for you on a whim, Ruby.”
“And what about my plans?” I demanded.
“Just drop it, Ruby,” Troy spoke up from the couch. I hated the way his golden eyes could scorch me when he was upset.
Defiantly, I repeated. “I am singing Heart on Fire and that’s the end of it. Dark Clouds is a good song but it wasn’t written for me. Heart on Fire is and that’s what I’m singing.”
George and Troy exchanged looks that seemed to say they weren’t sure which one of them was going to be the one to talk me off the ledge. Neither of them spoke, so I reasserted myself. “I’m singing Heart on Fire. What have I got to lose?”
George started ticking off reasons on his fingers. “You could run over and mess up the timing of the show, you could screw up your performance, Mr. Drake could have your head and mine…”
Before he got to his ring finger, I started countering all his reasons on my own digits. “Timing isn’t an issue and neither is the fact that it’s acoustic. Let the director know we’ve had a special, last minute change of songs and have Abilene tell the audience it’s the song I wrote for Collin. They’ll eat up the love story and everyone wants to be part of debuts. It’s the only song you guys haven’t let me officially promote on the album, and it’s an important one to me. It makes me feel like I was part of the creative process and am not simply a replacement Monica Best. C’mon, George. The concert is around the corner, and I want my fans to hear something that’s truly a piece of me.” When George stopped protesting, exasperated by my determination, I turned to Troy. “Will you help me?” Troy’s jaw was set, and I was afraid he was going to tell me I was on my own. “If not, get me a guitar and I’ll go do it myself.”
Another moment of silence and Troy nodded. “Yes. I’ll help you.”
I bounced up and down on my heels and clapped my hands happily, like a spoiled four-year-old who was getting her way in the toy aisle. I knew it was a risk, but it was one I was willing to take. I could handle Mr. Drake later and if necessary, call in Ms. Osborne for reinforcements.
“Don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m happy about this,” Troy warned. “I know this song is all about your boyfriend, but if you haven’t noticed, Collin’s not here.”
I was taken aback by his comment so much so that it punctured my ego and I sunk into the couch.
“Collin’s not here,” Troy repeated. “But I am.”
Chapter Twenty-One
I performed Heart on Fi
re, and though the show’s director was about to lose his mind when I totally changed up the song that I’d been planning, it went off without a hitch. Troy played the guitar and harmonized beautifully with me, the same way he’d done when I auditioned with Harper Music and consequently recorded in studio. The song was met with rabid applause and several shrill whistles, making my heart soar. My whole body brimmed with a pleasant dose of adrenaline.
“You see, George? They loved it. It’s the kind of music people wanted to hear.” I nudged George’s ribs.
“You’re somethin’ else,” George said, shaking his head as I walked off stage. “Part of being good in this industry is knowing when to take a gamble. Maybe I’d better watch out for my job. You’d be too good at it.”
I wrapped my arm around George’s shoulders. “Don’t you worry, George. Your job has zero to do with the music, and music first and foremost is my calling.”
The show, taking photos with the fans, and clean up finished just before one in the morning, about the time that the excitement of the day ebbed. I walked out onto the humid post-rainstorm air in the cobblestone alley where the company-hired car was waiting to take us to the hotel. I pulled my phone out of the back pocket of my skinny jeans (which, ironically, seemed to be a lot more difficult to wriggle into with my legs greased up) and checked for messages. One was a text from Ms. Osborne, asking if I was going to be in the Indy area sometime in the next couple of weeks because she had something she wanted to give me. I made a mental note to call her in the morning. Checking my voicemail, my heart skipped a beat when I heard Collin’s voice.
“Hey, Ruby. When you get this, give me a call. I’ll be waiting up. I love you.”
Kiki, Troy, and George climbed into the car while I already had the ringing phone to my ear. I held up a finger, begging for a moment of privacy while I talked with Collin. I hated it when we fought. It wasn’t often and honestly, I’d say they were more tiffs than full blown arguments, but I loathed that disconnected feeling we’d been having. In this crazy, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to chase my dreams of becoming a world-class singer and songwriter, Collin was one of the few people who grounded me while still rooting me onward. However, there was no denying that in spite of our best efforts, that gulf of separation was growing wider and wider every day.
The phone rang twice. “Ruby? I’m so glad you called.” I could hear the relief in Collin’s voice, but my pride was hurt, and I needed someone to blame. Collin was the punching bag I was looking for.
“How was your show? In New York?” I said coldly.
“I’m really sorry about that, Ruby. There was a mix up in communication, and I ended up in the wrong place.”
“There was no mistake,” I snapped decidedly. “This was Jill’s fault, and she did it on purpose. She’s trying to keep us apart so she can wriggle her way between us.”
Collin sighed in exasperation. “Again with your theories about Jill? I’ve told you, there’s nothing going on.”
“I find it incredibly bizarre that you don’t see anything suspicious about this whole situation. You truly think that someone as meticulous as Jill would mistake New York for Chicago?”
“It was an error, that’s all,” Collin stammered, but I cut him off. The words felt like hot coals on my tongue and it was a relief to spit them out.
“I don’t think so. I think you’re so blinded by Jill and her beauty and attention and drive for your success that I’m all but forgotten.” I blinked back the tears that threatened to fall but they were quickly pooling on the rims of my eyes.
“So, what you were saying about me on your show tonight…” Collin drew a deep breath. “Was it not true?”
“You saw? How—”
“The moment I realized I was in the wrong place, I left the studio and sat on the curb, watching your interview. You were enchanting. And I loved your rendition of Heart on Fire. You and Troy sing beautifully together.”
My resolve to be angry was slowly being chipped away. I faltered but forced my heart to wall itself off again—the ups and downs of our roller coaster relationship were too much. “You know why Troy and I harmonize so well? It’s because we work at it. Unlike you and I, where we can’t seem to get our act together. What I said to the hostess was true but you? I think you just love the idea of me.”
Without another word, I hung up the phone and let the first of my tears spill over my lashes.
“I’m so glad you could stop by,” Ms. Osborne patted my knee as we sat on her spotless white couch. I imagined the damage Hannah’s kids could do to the furniture with that plate of freshly baked triple chocolate cookies and five minutes without adult supervision. I couldn’t help but smile.
“Me, too. I needed a bit of a break and now seemed like a good time.” I took one of the still warm cookies and dunked it into my glass of milk. I’d probably regret giving in and eating cookies later but I wasn’t in the mood to deprive myself. I’d sort of disappeared without warning for the weekend to clear my head. Though there were no public appearances scheduled, that didn’t mean Harper Music didn’t have my life planned down to the second. I’d ask forgiveness after the fact, rather than beg (and probably be denied) permission beforehand.
Ms. Osborne knit her brows together. “How are they treating you at Harper Music?”
“Really well.” It must have been my lackluster countenance that tipped her off.
“I’m not sure you’re being honest, dear.”
I laughed, but it was weary and cheerless. “Really, they are. I’m happy there. It is a lot of hard work, I won’t lie, but…” I trailed off and looked out her bay window, watching a cardinal pecking at the block of suet Ms. Osborne had hung.
“But what?” she pressed, setting her cup down on the coffee table and folding her hands in her lap, giving me her full attention. It was interesting how my palms began to sweat, having a devoted audience of one, the same as when I stood in front of a room full of cheering fans.
“It’s Collin. My career is going to take off right as my love life is going down the drain.” I buried my hands in my face. “I don’t know if I’m more embarrassed to be crying like a baby or by my pathetic inability to keep a boyfriend for any substantial amount of time.”
Ms. Osborne lightly rubbed my shoulder, and when I’d finally composed myself enough to look her in the eye, I saw an agony that only another person who’d experienced the same heartache could be familiar with. “I think I know a small part of what you feel. When my Lyle’s music career started taking off, I was thrilled for him, but it often left me lonely and in the shadow of his success. So, when I had the opportunity to work as a presidential secretary, I jumped at the chance and threw myself entirely into my job. While it was riveting, it could never completely fill in the hole that he left in my heart. To this day, I still have regrets.”
I sniffled and wiped my nose. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying,” Ms. Osborne said with a smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes, “don’t give up just yet.”
A swell of hope rooted itself in my chest and I bobbed my head. I would try harder and make things work between Collin and me. If they didn’t…well, I could say I’d done my best.
“So, when does your concert tour start?”
I chuckled lightly to myself, thinking of the commotion I must have caused by disappearing. “Next week.”
“Oh, then I’d better give you my gift,” she said, jumping from her seat like she’d sat on a tack. “Hang tight.”
I listened to her grandfather clock ticking from the entryway and heard Ms. Osborne moving things upstairs. Finally, she came down, toting a heavy, black guitar case.
“There was no way I was going to wrap this thing up.”
She slung it onto my lap and opened up the clips of the case. Inside was a beautifully lacquered red and black guitar that looked like it hadn’t been touched by human hands, except the ones who forged it.
“This is beautiful!” I cried, pulling th
e instrument out. “You really shouldn’t have, Ms. Osborne. I can’t even begin to comprehend how expensive something like this would be.”
“Oh, I didn’t buy it,” she explained. “It was a gift from Lyle. He told me he was going to teach me to play someday but…” she trailed off, lost in her painful what-ifs.
“I’ll take excellent care of it. If they ever let me use the guitar, I’ll bet I can get it on stage with me.”
As if on cue, my phone that was sitting on the coffee table started vibrating and playing my sporadic, flighty ringtone. I looked at the caller ID but I could have bet my life on who was calling.
I grit my teeth and answered the phone. “Hi, Mandy.”
“Ruby, you are in so much trouble,” Mandy said, her voice rising nervously.
“Calm down,” I chided, feeling like Hannah when one of her kids was panicking over something trivial.
“Calm down? I don’t think you’re in any position to tell me to calm down. I take it you’ve forgotten all about Monica Best and the little stunt she pulled last year? Because of her, I was working double time, trying to find someone to fill in her place. In case you’ve also forgotten, that was you. Running off like she did gives everyone around here more than a few heart palpitations, and for good reason.”
I swallowed my pride and groveled. “You’re right. I’m terribly sorry Mandy. I just needed a weekend break at home, visiting with some friends. I haven’t skipped anything. I’ll be back at it tomorrow. Promise.”
“You’d better,” she warned, “or I’ll have your head.” I could almost hear her sharpening her guillotine on the other end of the line.
“Talk to you soon,” I said.
“Wait!” Mandy screeched. “I’m calling because Mr. Drake wants to talk to you about that change of plans you pulled on Chicago Tonight in playing Heart on Fire instead of Dark Shadows, as had been discussed.”
Dread slipped through my veins the way black ink dissipated in water. Suddenly, my rash decision to show off for the crowd—and Collin—on national television without my record label’s approval seemed like it wasn’t such a good idea.
When a Star Falls (Stars Book 1) Page 18