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“What?” he looked at me, confused.
“People ask me to ghostwrite for them. They have a story to tell, but they don’t have the words, the time, or the confidence to tell it themselves. When you write songs about people, do you ask for their permission to share their stories?”
“No, but who wouldn’t want a story to be written about them or their tale turned into a song?”
“Me. I would hate someone to turn my life or my feelings into a song.”
“Really?” He raised an eyebrow as if I’d said the most surprising thing he’d ever heard.
“Absolutely.”
“Well, that’s good to know. I promise not to write you a song, turn you into a song, or even name one after you, but you have to promise me something.”
“Okay. What?” My heart hammered with nerves about what he was going to say, because right now I was worried I would agree to just about anything he asked me, and I had no idea why.
“That you’ll be kind to my story. I’ve been a twat. Things haven't always been easy for me, but I’ve hurt my friends and my band recently. I’ve done some really shitty stuff. I don’t want the stories in the press to taint how you see me, and I don’t want you to find out about my past and feel sorry for me.”
Staring at the sadness in his eyes, I couldn’t help but wonder what his story would be and whether he would be able to trust me enough to share it. “Sounds complicated. But okay. I promise to give you the benefit of the doubt and get the full story before I tell it, but really, that’s my job. I’m not here to jump to conclusions or second guess who you are. I’m here to find the truth and write it in a way that shares you with the world.”
He smiled and mouthedthank youbefore he took another sip of his water.
“What made you want to be a ghostwriter? I mean, surely if you can write, you want to create your own stories?”
“I have nothing of interest to say. No one wants to hear about my crappy life or even listen to the stories I make up in my head. I’m much better off sharing other people’s. Plus, I love it. Finding their voice, hearing their innermost secrets. It’s a pretty amazing thing to be involved in. And, I can usually work in my yoga pants from the comfort of my sofa. I mean, most of my clients expect a few meetings, but not six months on the road, following them all over the world. I think the Cosmic Gods’ story is going to keep me on my toes.”
He laughed. “So, you’re staying, Emmy? What happened last night didn’t put you off the rock star lifestyle?”
I paused for a moment, thinking about his question. Last night did put me off. I mean, even before I was attacked by that creep I’d decided this wasn’t for me. I was going home. But Tanner had changed everything. He’d saved me. He’d made sure I was safe. He’d stayed with me when he could have left me for someone else to take care of. Maybe I could do this. Maybe this was exactly where I was meant to be.
“I’m staying. It wasn’t a great start, but Ireallyneed the money, and if I didn’t do something every time some douchebag tried to upset me, I’d never get anything done.”
He strode towards the bed, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me to stand. “Matt will keep you safe, I promise. And I’ve had that monster from last night dealt with, so he won’t be bothering you again. Come on, let’s go meet the others.”
He held out his arm to point me in the direction of the door to find the rest of the band, not mentioning my obvious injuries and what I could only assume was my disheveled look. I sighed, getting the feeling that this man always got whatever he wanted, and right now he wanted me to meet the rest of the band, so who was I to argue?
Tanner
Ifoundeveryoneeatingbreakfast together. We’d taken over the whole top floor of the hotel, just like we normally did. Each of us had our own suite off the main living area with somewhere central where we came together for meals, meetings, and partying. Although since they’d forced me to go sober, there’d been a distinct lack of the latter.
Guiding Emmy into the room, my hand stayed pressed to the small of her back as I could sense the nerves and hesitance vibrating from her. “No one will bite, angel, I promise,” I whispered into her neck as we walked towards everyone, feeling her body tense from my proximity.
I coughed, the conversations stopping instantly, everyone twisting in their seats to look my way. Addison was the first to move.
“Shit, Emmy. Look at the state of you.” Emmy touched her face and then tried to run her fingers through her hair.
“You look perfect. She’s just worried about your bruises.” I leaned in and murmured, not wanting her to worry about Addi’s concerned words.
“I’m so sorry. Someone should have been taking care of you. I didn’t imagine you’d wander off on your own. Not that it’s your fault. Of course not. It was that asshole and we’ve dealt him with. Are you okay? Come and sit with us. Let me get something to eat. Coffee?”
Emmy tucked her hair behind her ear, looking around at the people sitting having breakfast. She walked toward the giant dining table that was covered in food and picked up a croissant. “Coffee would be great. Black. Two sugars. Thanks.” Addi nodded at one of the servers who stood discreetly in the corner of the room, and they moved to make her coffee.
Addison pointed to a seat at the table, and Emmy took it. Her coffee appeared in front of her moments later. Sitting tall and rigid, she took everyone in. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen anyone with such nervous, tentative body language as her. She closed her eyes, sipping the scalding liquid, her shoulders visibly dropping as the bitter liquid worked its magic. “God, I love coffee,” she muttered to herself, and Addi laughed.
“You and me both, Emmy. How are you feeling? Really. In pain?”
Emmy shrugged. “It hurts like hell, but thanks to Tanner, I think I got off lightly.”
“Yeah, he’s a real knight in shining armor, aren’t you?” Frankie laughed bitterly, her eyes dark and stormy like they’d looked for months. “So, who’s this, Addi?”
