AllFreeNovel
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“We will, though. It’s not my call. It’s what the label wants. If it’s about the ring, we can pick a different one. You want one of those ones with just the twig bundles or whatever?”
Huh? I shake off the question.
“No, because I don’t want any ring. I told the label and now I’m telling you. We’ll have to find a different PR stunt, because I’m not doing this.”
He crosses his arms. “Why not? You want to be pregnant or something? We haven’t done that one yet.”
“What?! No!”
I cross my arms too.
His eyes narrow.
So do mine. I even lean forward with a menacing scowl in an athletic feat I know he can’t match.
He still tries, and I bite back a laugh as he slips off the couch, sending his almonds flying. Several ping off the “café con leche” machine.
“A little help?” he grunts, holding out his hand.
His exposed wrist displays a new bandana, which means he must have a new “cause” to support. Guess the previous fundraiser for his Teacup Poodle’s doggie ropes course is complete?
As much as I don’t want to, twenty-six years of being a nice person force me to take his hand and use all my strength to jerk him to his feet. Besides, he can’t leave if he’s stuck in a bedazzled denim cocoon on my floor.
“Thanks,” he says, but he doesn’t release my hand.
I tug it away, and he returns a pout any three-year-old would admire.
“Wow, Linda. Hashtag ‘sourpuss.’ I don’t know what your problem is but your choices lately are ew. Why are you throwing everything away? Ever since you started working with that loser—what’s his name, Valerie?—you’ve been making a lot of ew mistakes. Your music was so good and now it’s weird. Is that what you want? To make weird music?”
“He’s not a loser. He’s brilliant. And my music isn’t weird. It’s also brilliant.”
“If you say so,” he mumbles. “Tell that to the charts.”
There must be one nut left in the package and he does everything he can to get it. Giving up, he flips the bag and dumps it into his hand, along with an avalanche of crumbs. Those get brushed on my floor.
“That imposter is ruining your career. That’s all I’m saying.” At least he’s moving down the aisle now. “You were the Queen of Country and now you’re barely an Earl-ess or whatever is under that. Duke-ess? Not princess. That’s for sure.”
I glare after him, but he’s finally leaving and I don’t want to distract him from that.
Also, he’s wrong… right?
I mean, sure my music is different. Sure I’ve lost some of my popularity but there’s more to a career than numbers. Well, maybe not according to the label. Or the promotors. Or the press. Or the streaming platforms…
I watch in silence as he makes his way to the stairs, but his icy glare at something below him makes me stiffer than his pants.
“Get the frick out of my way,” he hisses.
Oh no. Val.
“Excuse me?” my producer says.
“You heard me. You don’t belong here. Why are you even on this tour?”
“Why are you on Larinda’s bus?”
“She’s my girlfriend, loser. Now get out of my way before you ruin my career too.”
My heart hurts as Val goes silent. He must be seething, but what’s he supposed to say? He can’t defend himself. He can’t even defend me against the lie about my relationship with Jarvis. No one is supposed to know Jarvis and I aren’t actually together.
