“I have to go,” she blurted out. Before he could finish his sentence, she grabbed her belongings from the couch and barreled past him out of the room.
HE’D JUST appeared at her recording session without warning. She couldn’t handle Trace Corbin without some time to prepare herself. And then he’d been all “Hey, pretty girl.” And then nearly telling her he was proud of her? It was too much. Way too much.
She struggled to breathe normally as she leaned against her daddy’s truck and tried to steady herself. Damn Trace Corbin to hell for making her feel this way. He hadn’t even looked as if talking to her in such close proximity had affected him in the least.
Well, up until she mentioned Steven.
Steven, she realized, was her ace in the hole. Her shield that backed Trace Corbin out of her space.
The idea of having at least a tiny bit of protection from her own feelings and irrepressible reactions allowed her to breathe a little more easily.
Once she’d regained the majority of her equilibrium, she got in her truck and drove to her place. It was huge. Huge and empty. And lonely.
Trudging to the front door of her building, she did what she’d told Trace she would. She thought about it. Pondered the possibility of being on a bus with him, performing together, touring together.
Business-wise it made sense. There was a great deal of buzz around the both of them, their duet was a hit, and you couldn’t stand in line at the grocery story without seeing photos of either of them in a tabloid or two. But…
She just couldn’t put herself through that again. She couldn’t and she wouldn’t. Not when seeing him for all of five minutes had nearly wrecked her.
She’d worked her ass off to make it in this business, and she’d only gotten this far by putting her feelings about him, about everything that had happened between the two of them, in a small, dark corner far away where no one could reach it. Not even her and sure as hell not him.
The label would just have to take no for an answer.
KYLIE WOKE up next to her guitar. She’d fallen asleep on her couch as usual. Despite the fact that the bed she owned was enormous, she rarely slept in it.
She rubbed her eyes and stretched, blinking until her eyes adjusted. In the distance, she heard a ringing sound. It was the standard ring she’d set her phone to. Scrambling to her feet, she dug it out of her purse and answered.
“Morning, sweetheart. I just wanted to remind you about the meeting at the label this afternoon. They’re pulling out all the stops today I bet, so don’t be late.”
“I got it, Chaz. All the reminders you put on my phone helped.” She chuckled until she caught her reflection in her bathroom mirror. She definitely needed to get her hair cut sooner rather than later. “Hey, do you think you could call Emelle and see if she can come by and do something with my hair today before the meeting?”
“Nooo, I can’t. Because I’m your manager, not your assistant. However, I was talking to my boss last week and she mentioned that on your next tour you need a day-to-day manager, kind of like an assistant. But since sleeping on a bus is not something I ever plan to add to my bucket list, we’re currently looking for someone who’d be a good fit. Any requests?”
“Hmm.” Kylie stared at her reflection in the mirror as she contemplated the prospect of having an assistant. Boy, life was strange sometimes. “I’m not really picky, I guess. Just as long as they’re not too like…perky. Just someone efficient and professional.”
“Sounds good. I’ll pass that along to the boss lady. See you at three.”
Since she didn’t have an assistant yet, she hung up with Chaz and dialed her stylist. Who thankfully was available to come over in a few hours and help her look presentable before meeting with Noel Davies and the rest of the peanut gallery.
Kylie knew she wasn’t exactly playing well with others as her manager had pointed out, but she also knew that she wasn’t going to be forced on some lame tour that would keep her out of the studio. The options the label had presented so far just hadn’t felt right.
Her biggest fear was that today’s meeting would be the one where they asked her to go on tour with Trace. And her second biggest fear was what she already knew to be true.
As much as it hurt to think about and as terrifying as it was, that was the one option that actually did feel right.
AFTER EMELLE had trimmed and highlighted her hair, Kylie felt better. Less world-weary and somewhat refreshed. The past few weeks had been draining, both physically and emotionally, and she’d needed the pick-me-up even more than she’d realized.
As she dressed for the meeting, a startling realization forced itself on her. If they were going to push the tour with Trace on her today, he might be there.