Music Notes (10 page)

“Oh, Beau. You are too sweet,” Shawna coos and touches his forearm. Again, with the touching.

“I believe this is gonna to be an epic battle. I’ll see ya both here tomorrow,” he says before we head out of the room.

Those tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up again causing me to turn around before I reach the door. Those eyes. They’re mesmerizing and hypnotizing all at the same time. I’m afraid I’d be completely useless against their power. Beau smiles that half smile one more time before I’m whisked out of the room and led towards an awaiting van.

The entire trip back to the hotel, I relive the last hour. From his lingering glances to his southern drawl, I quickly determine that Beau Tanner might be my kryptonite. He might be the one thing that brings me to my knees and makes me forget all of the guy tips I’ve been schooling for the past four years. Four longs years. I haven’t been celibate, but I haven’t been what I would call sexually active either. I’ve gotten by. But the sight of that tall cowboy has my body humming and my blood pumping like never before. He makes me want to throw all of the rules straight out the window. And it’s only the first week.

I am in so much trouble.

*****

“I need to go shopping,” Corie says just after dinner.

“Okay, so go,” I tell her as we make our way down the sidewalk and back to the hotel.

“No, I want you to go with me. I was checking out that schedule and the list of services available at the studio. It has a full gym, you know. There’s a whole list of classes I want to take,” she adds with a huge smile.

“Are you talking about exercise?” I ask, stumbling on the word like it might bite me.

“Yes, silly. That and I need to get some new underwear,” she adds quietly while looking around to make sure no one heard her.

“Underwear?” I ask, both of my eyebrows sky-high.

“Yep. My grandma always said that a new pair of fancy underwear is a great way to boost your spirits or your confidence. Since I’m already practically higher than a kite on adrenaline from today’s session with JoJo, I figured a good confidence booster couldn’t hurt. I’m up against a girl who sang back up for JLo two years ago, so I could use a little self-assurance.”

“Your grandma told you that?” I ask curiously.

“Yep. Well, that and not to sleep with a man until the second date. You don’t want to appear too easy,” Corie says with a decisive head nod.

“That’s…weird.”

“My Gram was the best. I lived with her from the time I was sixteen until about two years ago when she passed.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I tell her when I see the pain in her eyes.

“Yeah. She was hit by a car crossing the street after leaving The Pussycat Club,” she tells me with melancholy.

“Wait. What? Your grandma was at a strip club?” I ask, stopping dead in my tracks on the sidewalk.

“She wasn’t there to watch or anything. She worked there. Gram could sling a beer like no other,” she tells me. “She had regulars of all ages. Gram had a huge following,” Corie says.

“Oh. Well, okay then. So, underwear?” I ask looking to change the subject. Whoever would have thought that I would be interested in changing the topic
to
underwear?

“Yes! Let’s go to that nice department store on the top of that one place on Quincy. It looks like it’ll have great stuff,” she says as we head into the hotel. “I’ll meet you down here in fifteen, okay?” she hollers as she hops on the elevator.

“What was that about?” Troy asks beside me as I watch the elevator doors close.

“I just had the strangest conversation about underwear and strippers and her grandma. I think I could use a shot.”

“Do I want to know?” he asks as he leads me into the lounge.

“I’m pretty sure you don’t,” I tell him, trying to shake off the images in my mind.

Note to self: Avoid future topics that involve grandparents and strippers.

Fifteen minutes later, Corie joins us in the lounge. After another shot of liquid courage in the form of Jim Beam, we head out of the lounge and towards the street. Corie tells me all about her life before the show. Growing up in Cleveland and being raised by her grandma after her parents were killed in a car accident her sophomore year of high school, Corie is determined to make her Gram proud and win the show. Apparently, Gram was a huge fan of other reality singing shows and always encouraged Corie to give it a shot. I tell Corie about living with my mom and about working at Chaser’s. I even tell her about Eli, though I don’t give her the backstory that I know she’s itching to find out.

Together, we steer through the stacks of undergarments at the large department store. I keep thinking back to what she said about it boosting your confidence. As I hold a dainty black lace thong in my hands, I start to think there’s something to what Gram preached. I can feel my spirits lifting as I contemplate which pair I’m going to buy. Not that I have a place or time to wear these panties, but the thought of having something so sexy and delicate against my skin
is
doing wonders for my self-confidence.

Maybe I should wear them every day.

Or not.

I take my selection up to the counter and let the girl who could be Shawna’s Barbie twin ring me up. “$32.60,” she says.

“Thirty dollars? For a scrap of lace?” I ask as I fish out my debit card.

“There’s a Target down the street if you’d prefer something cheaper,” she snips back to me with a snide look.

Oh, she’s Shawna’s twin, all right.

Note to self: Avoid bitchy blonds wearing makeup more expensive than my entire outfit. And always check the price tag before you go to pay.

“So what song are you singing?” I ask as we head down a floor to hit the athletic wear section.

“We’re singing ‘Escapade’ by Janet Jackson,” she says excitedly.

“Really?”

“Yeah, Jackie’s range is a little higher than mine, but it should be a good duet. I haven’t heard that song since I was really little so we spent the entire time relearning the lyrics. Heck, I’m pretty sure that song came out the year I was born. How about you? What are you and the Diva singing?”

“We’re singing Miranda Lambert’s ‘Fastest Girl in Town’.”

“And what are your thoughts on singing a country song?” she asks while pulling a pair of tight black stretchy shorts off the rack.

“I’m surprisingly okay with it. At first, I was a little bummed. I mean, I know Beau is a country singer so the chances of having to sing country was pretty good, but I was hoping he’d humor me and pull out some Stevie Nicks or something.”

“Don’t we wish,” she mumbles as she digs through workout tank tops until she finds her size.

“Aren’t you getting anything?” she asks, flicking her chin towards the breathable nylon material.

“You’re really going to make me do this?” I whine before diving into the little stretchy shorts.

“Yep, I am. Get a sports bra, too, if you don’t have one. We don’t want your girls popping out while you’re doing aerobics or spinning.”

Another fifty-five dollars, a pair of tiny blue shorts, a black tank top that barely covers anything, and one sports bra later, we’re heading back towards the hotel. I’m surprised that my spirits are actually pretty high. I don’t know if it’s the shopping, the lacy underwear, or the company, but I feel less homesick tonight than I have in the past two days.

“I don’t understand why I couldn’t just wear my yoga pants and a t-shirt to workout in,” I mumble.

“No one wears that to workout in LA. Yoga pants are for cleaning your bathroom and drinking wine. Shorty shorts and sports bras are for showing off what your mama gave you,” she counters.

“But, we’re going to be all sweaty and gross. And I’m pretty sure hyperventilating isn’t sexy.”

“Yes, but we’ll look good while trying not to die,” she adds with a wink.

Only a few days in and I’m not sure I’ll survive the remaining weeks. And I’m not talking about the singing competition. Corie may actually try to kill me. I just pray she doesn’t sign us up for kickboxing or step aerobics for experts. Maybe I’ll get lucky and they offer a relaxation with wine class.

Maybe?

Note to self: Don’t mess with my cornflakes. I’m liable to cut a bitch.

Day two of practices with Beau is upon us. Shawna darts around the room like Hurricane Barbie, tearing up every drawer and cabinet in the hotel room. Even the ones that aren’t hers.

“What are you looking for?” I ask, irritated that she’s destroying the place. Especially because I know that I’ll be the one cleaning it up.

“My Blushing Mango lip gloss. I had it yesterday and now it’s gone,” she hollers from the bathroom.

“You’re tearing this place apart for lip gloss? Don’t you have an entire bag of it?” I ask, incredulously shaking my head from my bed.

“Of course I have more,” she says as she steps back into the room with an eye roll. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand. This is the color I specifically wear with this dress. I can’t wear it without that lip gloss,” she seethes through pearly white teeth.

“I’m going down for breakfast,” I mumble as I get up from the bed.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to skip a meal or two. The cameras are going to add at least ten pounds and you’re already pushing it a little,” she says with so much sugar, I practically get a sugar rush headache.

“Thanks for the advice. But if I don’t get my big slab of beef for breakfast, I’m a real bear the rest of the day,” I tell her as I fly out the door. Shawna’s shocked expression still makes me laugh as I climb into the elevator and head down to the small dining room for breakfast.

Note to self: Order the biggest steak available next time I eat near Vegetarian Barbie.

Troy and Ben join me for breakfast. A creature of habit, I enjoy a bowl of Frosted Flakes, a few strips of bacon, and a cup of strong coffee while the guys each load up biscuits and sausage gravy, scrambled eggs, and at least four pieces of toast on their plates. The breakfast buffet really is the greatest invention since sliced bread.

“You ready for day two?” Troy asks before shoveling a huge bite into his mouth.

“I guess. Between fits of flirting with our coach yesterday, Shawna whined about my parts in the song saying that they were better suited for her,” I tell them as I enjoy a bite of the sweet, sugary goodness.

“She’s unbelievable. Ignore her and kick her ass in the duet,” Ben says with an encouraging smile.

“That’s my plan. Hey, have you guys heard from Corie this morning?”

“Not yet. She’s one of the first groups out, and I heard her competition is going to be tough,” Troy says. “Hey, did I tell you that my wife and kids are going to try to drive here in two weeks?” he adds, his entire face lighting up with excitement.

“No, that’s wonderful!” I exclaim, knowing that it’s so hard for everyone to be away from his or her family and loved ones for such an extended period of time.

“Well, if I’m still here in two weeks,” he adds with a grin.

“You will be,” I tell him confidently.

“Saturday night, Troy and I were talking about going out and having a drink somewhere. You’ll go, right?” Ben asks.

“Yeah, I can do that. It’ll be better than hanging out with Snobby Barbie and watch her brush her hair all night,” I say as I finish off my cereal. “Is it okay if I ask Corie to come?”

“Absolutely,” Ben says. “I’ve got to get goin’ in a few. I’m on the next van out to practice.”

Corie flies into the dining room looking completely frazzled. Her red hair is haphazardly pulled back in a loose ponytail, and her clothes appear slightly wrinkled. The petite spitfire grabs a muffin and a carton of chocolate milk before coming over to our table. “I totally overslept this morning. Chelsea, my roommate, was up half the night talking on her phone and I couldn’t fall asleep. Then, my alarm didn’t go off,” she says before ripping the paper off her muffin.

“Sorry,” I offer with condolence. “If it makes you feel better, I did the same thing on audition day.”

“I guess.”

“Hey, we need to get to the van,” Ben says. “But we’re going out Saturday night. We want you to come, too.”

“Yay! I can’t wait to check out the LA nightlife,” she says as she stuffs almost half her muffin in her mouth. Waving over her shoulder, Corie follows Ben out of the dining room and towards the front of the hotel.

“So,” Troy starts before clearing his throat. “What’s the deal with you and Ben?” he asks curiously.

“There is no Ben and me.”

“Is he aware of that?” he asks, his dreads pulled back in a low ponytail at the nape of his neck.

“I’m not encouraging him, Troy. Ben is sweet and charming with that southern drawl, but I’m not looking for a relationship right now. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready for that,” I say, my voice dropping down to just above a whisper.

“Sounds like a story,” Troy says, encouragingly.

“Yeah, it’s a story. A pretty long one,” I say, hoping that he’ll drop the topic, but when he gives me a pointed look, I know there’s no getting out of it.

I exhale loudly before I continue, “It’s not something I really talk about too much, Troy. There was a guy. He was a liar and I didn’t discover it for a long time. He’s not around anymore, and we have a three year old son together.” Just saying those words out loud still gets my heart racing and the anxiety rushing through my body. I was a mess for several months following Colton’s betrayal. Yet four years later, it still hurts almost as much as it did back then.