The Duet(14)

“Wow, I’m surprised he’s letting me stay in the house at all. I figured I’d be exiled to the barn.”

Summer coughed and stared down at her salad. “Well, actually at first you were staying in a cheap hotel in town. But Sandy and I convinced Jason that that setup would be a bit ridiculous.”

I grunted. “Of course. Okay, go on.”

She nodded, running her finger down the itinerary on her iPhone. “You’ll fly out of LAX in three days and you’ll be in Montana for however long it takes to finalize the song. I postponed most of your commitments until after The Grammys. For the ones that I couldn’t move, I’ve either coordinated with them to have a meeting over Skype or the company will fly someone to Montana to meet with you.”

“Sounds good.”

“So you just need to start thinking of what you’d like to take with you and I’ll help you pack. You don’t have much time to wrap things up here before you leave.”

I shrugged. “I don’t have much to wrap up honestly. I’ll have to break the news to Cammie. She knew I was leaving soon, but I’m pretty sure she thought we’d have a bit more time.”

Summer arched a brow. “You aren’t leaving LA forever. It’s like a month.”

I pursed my lips. No one understood my relationship with Cammie. For the last fifteen years, Cammie and I were all each other had. Our relationship wasn’t normal or healthy, but we were each other’s best friends and we’d never been apart for a whole month before.

Summer must have read the distress on my features. “If it makes you feel better, I can coordinate a weekend where she can come visit you.”

I sat up straighter, already planning our weekend in my mind. Does Montana have nightclubs? “That’s perfect. I’m sure she’ll need a break from her projects anyway.”

She nodded and started typing away on her phone. “Don’t forget her graduation is the weekend before the award show. I’ll schedule your flight home to ensure that you can be there.”

“Perfect.”

Summer sat back in her chair and crossed her arms, eyeing me curiously.

“So now we just need to figure out what the hell people wear in Montana.”

“Brokeback-chic?” I offered.

…



I was opening a bottle of wine in my kitchen later that evening when I realized that I should probably attempt to contact Jason again. I knew our assistants had been in constant communication, but it would be he and I staying together in Montana and it felt strange to know nothing about the man. I could have googled him, but I refused to get any information about someone from the Internet. If everyone trusted what they read on the Internet, then I was apparently a transvestite alien with four illegitimate children and a drinking problem.

So instead, I scrolled through my phone, past all of the contacts, to find Jason Monroe lurking where I’d programmed him in the other day.

I thought back to our two previous interactions and honestly, I didn’t think our first and second impressions of each other could be more off. I don’t know how he perceived me after seeing me in my bra on the elevator, but I definitely thought he erred on the arrogant asshole side of things, so maybe it was time to straighten that out.

Before I could stop myself, I hit dial and held the phone up to ear while I poured myself a big ol’ glass of Chardonnay. Liquid courage at its finest.

The phone rang five times and I was about to hang up, sure it was about to kick over to his voicemail, when he finally answered.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” he said when the call clicked on.

My eyes flew to the kitchen clock. 12:03 A.M. Damn. Cammie had come over and we’d watched a marathon of Real Housewives.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry to wake you.”

Although, seriously, what rock star goes to bed early anyway? Shouldn’t he be snorting crack off hookers or picking between which Playboy Bunnies he wanted to take to bed?

He didn’t respond to my apology so I was left with dead air hanging on the phone.

“I’ll let you go,” I said.

Still nothing.

I moved the phone away from my ear to hang up, but just before my thumb hit the red button, I heard him growl, literally growl, through the line.

“What is it?” he said.

Even though my first instinct was to tell him off for being so rude, I forced myself to remember why I’d called him in the first place. I was trying to make amends. He and I were about to be secluded in the woods together so it was time to start singing Kumbaya.

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m leaving for Montana in a few days.”

“So you called me to tell me something that my assistant already confirmed with me days ago?”