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“Not exactly.” Georgia sighed. “His dementia is slipping into Alzheimer’s territory. I recognize the signs from watching my great granny.”
I grimaced. “I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “I just feel for him and his family. Alzheimer’s is a cruel disease. This show will most likely be his last performance. It’ll be an honor to share the stage with him.”
I stared at her admiringly. “You’re so good.”
“What?”
“You’re a good person,” I said simply.
“So are you!”
I shook my head. “Not like you are. If Walter was my partner, I’d be pissed that I was saddled with a liability rather than an asset.” I hated knowing how heartless I could be.Maybe I don’t need LA to harden me.
“Stop. No, you wouldn’t. He’s the sweetest man.”
I didn’t protest again, choosing to let Georgia keep her misguided high opinion of me. I was ambitious, sometimes to the detriment of everything else, but that was considered a positive trait in my family. Or at least, it would have been if my family approved of my choice in music.
My biological father had been out of the picture since before I was born, but my stepfather was the senior partner in a real estate development firm he’d built from the ground up. He and my mother met while she was a principal cellist in the Cleveland Orchestra, and he was patron.
A few years after they married, my little sister was born. She started playing violin at age four, and it quickly became clear she would be a virtuoso. At that point, my mother gave up on me following in her footsteps, but unfortunately, I hadn’t given up on trying to please her and pursued classical opera, even though my heart wasn’t in it. Learning that my parents had called in favors to get me admitted into college for classical voice had forced me to face the music, so to speak, and I’d given up on a dream that hadn’t been mine to begin with.
The Nightly Showstarted, and we settled in to watch. The host, a former comedian, did his bit on a senator who’d made some controversial statements. Having zero interest in politics, I tuned him out until he introduced Trenton. I blinked in confusion as Carlita Perez, a Latina singer, was introduced with him. They hadn’t done any collaborations, and Trenton hadn’t said anything about her. That wasn’t to say I knew everything about his life. They could have been involved for all I knew.Oh God.
I banished the thought. Trenton was a good guy, and he wouldn’t have taken me to a hotel room if he was in a relationship. I might not have known everything about him, but I knew that with certainty.
After Trenton and Carlita had greeted the host, they settled into the chairs next to his desk, and the audience’s clapping tapered off. Trenton had said he hated interviews, so I eyed him for signs of discomfort. I found none. He was definitely a much better actor than I was.
“So,” the host said, leaning forward with his forearms on the desk, “have you two met before now?”
Trenton and Carlita looked at one another for a moment, each of them clearly trying to recall if their paths had crossed. I wondered if it was like that for celebrities—they obviously recognized one another, but since they met so many different people, they might forget who they’d met in person and who they simply recognized.
“I think maybe backstage at the AMAs?” Carlita suggested.
Trenton shook his head. “You’re probably thinking of Liam. I haven’t been backstage at the AMAs since Misdirection.” Was it my imagination, or had his jaw tightened? If it had, he’d neutralized his expression too quickly for me to tell.
“Oh, that’s right.” Carlita laughed and put her hand on his arm. “Sorry.”
Beside me, Georgia snorted. “That was a bitchy thing to do.”
Her comment surprised me—she was the more forgiving of the two of us. She was also fiercely loyal, and since Trenton was my partner, she was protective of him as well. I guessed that the irritation I thought I’d seen was real. “It could have been an honest mistake. Liam was in Misdirection with Trenton.”
Georgia shook her head. “They look nothing alike. Trenton is like a foot taller than Liam.”
That wasn’t true. Trenton probably had several inches on Liam, but not a foot. I let it pass.
“Before we get to why you’re here,” the host said, “I have something I want to clear up.” He lifted an enlarged photo that had been lying facedown on the desk. It was of Trenton and two football players. “Now, who are these other guys?”
Trenton smiled tightly and rubbed his hand on his thighs. The audience laughed, and beside me, Georgia chuckled. “I don’t get it,” I said. There was nothing funny about the picture—it was just Trenton and a couple of football players.
“It’s a meme that’s been going around,” Georgia explained. “Haven’t you seen it?”
I shook my head. Georgia started to explain, but I shushed her because Trenton was talking.
“Those are my cousins,” Trenton said. “Both are pro football players.”
“Wow,” the host said. “Talented family. Do you play?”
