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Authors: Jamie Campbell

Songbird (20 page)

BOOK: Songbird
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“You’re welcome. How are you holding up?”

“Do you mean from not getting any sleep last night, or knowing someone wants to harm me?” Watching the cheeky smile spread across his lips was totally worth the comment.

He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial tone. “If you weren’t so damn irresistible, Miss Wilcox, I would be able to keep my hands off you and
then
you could get some sleep. So, really, this whole thing is your fault.”

“Right, my fault.” I rolled my eyes and had another bite of my cookie, making sure to lick my lips slowly. “So you are nothing but a
hapless victim in this scenario then?”

He nodded. “Absolutely.”

“So, if I wanted to-”

“Forest, you coming or what? Should I deal you in?” Ace’s voice interrupted me. He was holding up a pack of cards. I really wished we were alone right then and there. I doubted our clothes would last much longer.

Forest looked between Ace and I, trying to make a decision about who he wanted to put offside. I didn’t want him to decide, mainly because I wasn’t sure if he would actually choose me. “I’m fine, really, go. You wouldn’t want to leave the boys waiting.”

“Why don’t you come play with us? You do know how to play poker, right?” Getting an invitation to the back of the bus, that was something I didn’t ordinarily get. Or
ever
get, thinking about it.

It might be my one and only opportunity. “Sure.” I plastered on the smile, pretending that sitting around with a bunch of guys was so much more fun than flirting with Forest one on one.

I followed him, gripping the seats to offset the gentle rocking of the bus. Between the few back seats was a table. Ace, Marty, and the rest of the band all held a set of cards as they watched us sit down.

“Deal me in,” I said to break the uncomfortable
silence. Ace slid some cards to me, doing the same with Forest. I checked my hand, a pair of threes and that was it. Not exactly the best or worst start.

“Do you need me to go over the rules?” Ace asked.

“Nah, I’ll wing it,” I replied. A skeptical laugh passed among the boys. If only they knew the truth.

I had spent weeks playing poker with Braydon. On the deserted tropical island where we hid from the world for a full
three weeks, there was only two things to do, and sometimes we needed a break from being naked and entwined in each other’s bodies.

He taught me everything I ever needed to know about poker. Braydon used to fund his alcohol budget by being a card shark, he knew what he was doing. At least I got something other than a mental breakdown from our mess of a relationship.

I let them all win the first few hands, throwing any good cards I was dealt. Pretending I was getting all the bad cards was enough to lure them into my honey trap. Once they were comfortable I was a terrible player, that was when I had to strike.

It wasn’t until the fifth round that I decided to actually start playing for real. All their looks were smug enough to want to beat into one of surprise instead.

Ace dealt again. I got a pair of fives. I wasn’t going to be giving those ones away, this game was for real. I placed my bet, we were using toothpicks for the kitty.

“Hit me,” I said when Ace was dealing again. I exchanged a four and got a
king in return. It was a start.

Forest shot a questioning gaze my way. I wasn’t sure whether he was trying to save me or read my mind. One good thing about wearing a fake smile for
ninety percent of my life, I had a damn good poker face. None of them was going to get anything out of me.

“Hit me,” I repeated when it was my turn again. Lady luck was on my side, I got the King of Hearts. Two pairs, that would do nicely. I pursed my lips, as if thinking about my next move. Like I needed to think about it.

“Call,” Marty declared on his turn. Ace, Forest, and Luke threw down their cards. That only left my keyboardist Ronan, Marty and I. They each put in the last of their toothpicks, they were all in.

Ronan took the challenge and revealed his hand, one pair. My hand beat his with no problem. It was down to Marty and me. Marty raised his eyebrows and stared me down, pushing his toothpicks
around in the center.

The kitty was overwhelmed
with little wooden pieces. I never asked how much they were worth, I probably should have. It wasn’t like I carried a large amount of cash around with me. Demi paid for most things with her company credit card.

“What do you think, boss? You in?” He challenged me. All eyes turned my way. Forest tried to peek at my cards but I held them close to my chest – literally.

“You show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” I replied, arching an eyebrow of my own.

He laid out his cards, he had
two pairs as well. A pair of eights and a pair of threes. My hand with the pair of kings trumped his. Turned out Braydon was good for something, pity it had to be gambling.

“Come on, boss, what have you got?”

I was about to splay my cards on the table and claim victory but there was something in Marty’s eyes that made me stop. He was so excited to win, to have a leg up on me. If I took away all their toothpicks, they wouldn’t have anything else to play with. I couldn’t do that. I didn’t need the money and I spent months telling them what to do. For once, he could have the upper hand.

I put my cards on the table, face down. “I’m out. Congrats, Marty.”

He whooped with joy and pulled the kitty toward him with a dazzling smile across his face. “You shouldn’t play with the professionals, boss. This game is no place for an amateur. We’re all serious business down here.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I scoffed, unable to keep the smile from my face. At least when they teased me it meant I was just one of them. They wouldn’t do that if they truly saw me as the boss. “How about a rematch? I’m sure I can win some of that loot back.”

“You’re on.”

Ace started dealing. My cards weren’t great but they were workable.

“Brierly, I need you,” Demi called from down the aisle. She had her iPad out, her horribly boring schedule up on the screen. She waved it at me. “We don’t have long before we arrive.”

I inwardly groaned. “Sorry, guys, maybe another time.” I left my cards and ran along like a good girl. Someone had to be the boss and I guessed it was still going to be me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

C
hapter Twenty-One

 

 

A
few weeks later, I was sitting under spotlights again. The reporter with his twitchy eye and sweaty palms was making me nervous. Interviews normally didn’t faze me so much, not since the tour had been going so well. Besides the few little indiscretions, they were finding it difficult to dig up dirt on me.

But this guy, Pete Barker, was unsettling. He had barely asked me anything about my music and if his eye didn’t stop moving soon, it was going to
hypnotize me. I’d be clucking like a chicken in no time.

“So I hear you have a big fan base in Asia.” That wasn’t a question, what was I supposed to say to that?

“Yeah, my fans around the world are so sweet and supportive. I hope to get down there one day so I can meet them all.” I flashed a smile, hopefully it looked charming and not bored like I felt.

“It seems like you have one big fan right here, a
very big fan.” He gave me that slimy look, the one that was a little sweaty and condescending. I had no idea where he was going with his questioning but he seemed to be excited about it. That probably wasn’t a good thing.

“I’m grateful for all of my fans,” I replied warily, not letting my guard down. I glanced at the cameras, feeling like it was really hot in the studio. Demi was waiting by the producer’s side, equally as bored and confused as I was.

Pete tapped quickly on his tablet, his finger sliding a little with the perspiration. I really hoped he didn’t share the gadget with anyone, they would need to sterilize it first. He held up the screen. “Would you say this is your biggest fan? He looks pretty big to me.”

Star
ing back at me was Forest’s naked picture from my hotel room in Miami. I thought people were over that by now. I wanted to make a joke about him not only being big, but satisfying too. But I didn’t think that would be smart, that was how things went viral on YouTube.

Instead, I laughed. “Do you make a habit out of showing your guests naked pictures of men?”

“You and I both know this isn’t any random man. This is your current squeeze, is it not?”

“Forest and I have been together for almost three months now,” I replied steadily and happily. He was not going to ruffle my feathers, I was not going to let him. “Ninety-nine percent of the time, he’s fully clothed.”

“And the other one percent?” He raised his eyebrows, I think he was going for flirty but it only came across as creepy. Very creepy, he was old enough to be my father.

“Everyone’s got to shower now and then, you wouldn’t do that fully dressed.”

We stared at each other, long enough for him to realize I wasn’t going to take the bait and engage in a conversation about Forest. If he wanted to save the interview, he seriously needed to move on.

He flicked at his tablet and another photo came up. He showed me that one too. It was me, eating pie. “And what about your binge eating? What would you like to say to all your young fans about your relapse?”

I laughed at that too. How anyone could come to that conclusion purely because I was eating a slice of lemon meringue pie was beyond my comprehension. “When I see that photo, it just reminds me how much I like pie. If I had relapsed, there is no way I would have allowed that photo to be taken. Nor would I deny it.”

I paused, waiting for that to sink in before I continued. It was time I gave sweaty Pete Barker an education. “An eating disorder is nothing to be ashamed of. I have not tried to hide my condition from my fans. Instead, I hope by being honest about it, I can help other girls out there that might be going through the same thing. Showing a photograph of me enjoying a treat is nothing to be embarrassed about. When I think of how far I have come since getting help with my disease,
I am actually really proud of my progress.”

I smiled innocently, like I hadn’t just politely told him to go jump off a bridge. Pete was momentarily dumbstruck, he stared at me with wide eyes. Hopefully he was using t
he time to reconsider his habit of harassing young women with serious medical histories. Or scolding himself for not doing his research first.

“Well, uh,” he
mumbled. “That’s all well and good, but what would you say to all the parents of your young fans? Their daughters idolize you and you let them down.”

“Nobody is perfect, Pete, and I certainly
never claimed to be. Like anyone, I’ve made mistakes and I succumbed to the disease. I wouldn’t want anyone to go through that. However, I believe what I can do now is to show my fans how to be strong. I want to empower all young people to take control of their own bodies and be well. My message to them is to stay strong, ask for help when you need it, and know you can get through anything. That is a message I want them all to hear.”

“So many young girls have body issues, aren’t you giving them carte blanche to develop an eating disorder?” He asked, like a dog with a bone. I think we were speaking different languages because there was only so many ways I could answer the same damn question.

I took a deep breath so I could keep my voice steady. “Anyone who knows anything about eating disorders knows that it’s rarely about the food and dieting. If you are truly concerned about helping young girls, I can direct you to some wonderful resources that can help educate you.”

He waved me away like I said something trivial. “That’s not necessary. How can you sit there and-”

I knew it was rude to interrupt but I was beyond caring, he clearly didn’t. “I think it
is
necessary. Eating disorders, whether it’s bulimia or anorexia, are serious issues that are treated like a girl’s dirty little secret. It’s about time these diseases are brought to the forefront so girls can understand the disorders and those around them can identify the symptoms before it’s too late.”

“So you’re saying if someone
recognized your symptoms you wouldn’t have had your breakdown and hospital stay?” He raised both eyebrows, giving him a look of surprise and more than a touch of arrogance. Hitting him on camera would not be a good thing, right?

I shook my head as I took a moment to calm down. Glancing at Demi, she had that panicked look on her face, the one where she was terrified about what I was about to say. She probably had good reason.

“The funny thing is, Pete, people are really good at hiding their symptoms. I know for myself, I would do anything to make sure people didn’t know I was ill. That is why education is so vitally important. Girls shouldn’t be made to feel bad about their disorder, they should be empowered to ask for help.”

I finished with a wide, polite smile.
As it turned out, Demi had nothing to worry about. Pete, on the other hand, seemed to have lost control of his interview.

He leaned back, breathing through his nose and making it whistle. “I think that’s all we have time for. Thank you for the interview, Miss Wilcox.”

I shook his sweaty hand before getting up. Demi was quick to thank everyone as we left. She waited until we were in the lifts before she spoke. “I’m sorry, they didn’t tell me they were going to be covering those topics. You saw the list of questions, he barely asked any of them.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I assured her. “I feel kind
of good about it. Do you think I said the right things? I mean, they felt right but I wasn’t sure if my words were coming out right.”

“You were great, trust me. You came across as a survivor, not someone who was trying to hide anything. Well done, Brier. You would never have been able to do
that not so long ago.” She gave me an awkward, sideways hug with one arm. “You’ve come a long way, you should be proud of that. I know I am.”

The edges of my mouth crooked up into a smile. Perhaps I was doing better than I thought I was. Maybe taking it day by day wasn’t such horrible advice as I had initially thought.

Or I could just have been having a good day. There was no need to get carried away. The moment I started to rejoice in my recovery, it was the moment it would sneak up on me and take me down again.

Demi left me at the hotel for a rare night off. Considering we were in New Orleans, I had no intention of staying in for the evening. Especially when one of my dearest friends was holding a party in the French Quarter.

I collected Forest from the room he was sharing with Ace and we grabbed a cab across town. We had weaved our way from Florida through Georgia, Tennessee, and Mississippi and now it was time to party in Louisiana. It had been over two weeks since I’d had a night off, tonight was well deserved.

The summer air was warm and humid in the old town. New Orleans was one of my
favorite places in the world to be. I loved the history, the people, and even the weather. Give me hot and sticky over cold and damp any day.

Hayley Scott, the girl who came runner up in the competition that I won, had a successful singing career of her own. Coming second hadn’t slowed her down any, my record company gave her a deal the day after the final of
Singing Idol
. We had been riding the rollercoaster of the industry together ever since. Even though we didn’t see each other very often due to our schedules, we still caught up as much as possible.

“B!” She greeted me as we stepped into the old house-come-restaurant. Everything was wrought iron filigree work and old wood. It was like stepping back in time.

“Hayles!” I matched her enthusiasm as she took me in an all consuming hug. “Happy birthday!”

“Thanks,” she smiled, letting me go. Her eyes wandered to Forest, standing quietly by my side. “Who’s the hunk of spunk?”

“This is Forest, my boyfriend. Forest, this is Hayley Scott, one of my best friends in the world.”

“Hey,” he
said casually with a nod of his head. It was the greeting he gave people to make them think he was ultra cool. I could see the adorable teddy bear underneath, others took a while longer to see it.

Hayley turned her attention back to me. “I hope you don’t hate me, but Oscar is here too. I didn’t even know he was going to be in town but he showed up and I couldn’t very well turn him away.”

I knew things were going too well for me that day. I plastered on a smile. “Don’t worry about it. It’s a big place, I’m sure I won’t even see him.”

“That’s the spirit. Now, go get some food and drinkies, and enjoy yourself! I’ll catch up with you later, we obviously have a lot to talk about.” She
looked Forest up and down pointedly. I couldn’t tell if she approved or not, I guessed I would find out. “It’s time to party. Woo!” She squealed before moving on to greet her next guests.

I grabbed Forest and headed for the food. New Orleans never disappointed in the food department, even to my picky palette. Tonight was no different. Laid out on the table was everything from catfish to salad to some kind of meat thing that I didn’t even want to pretend I knew what it was. I skipped over that dish and put a mixture of everything else on my plate.

Forest followed behind as we found a spare table and sat. The music was already pumping in the next room with a live band. Hayley had gone all out to celebrate turning twenty-five. I couldn’t wait to get to the dancing.

“Hayley said you’d be here.” I
recognized the male voice immediately, my body reacting instinctively with wanting to run away from it. That was something I didn’t do quickly enough the first time.

My
eyes travelled from the leather pants clad legs to the grey t-shirt, to the smiling face of Oscar Beaumont – aka the biggest loser I had ever dated. And, after Braydon, that was saying something.

The reason for lusting after him had long been forgotten. Everything had vanished the night he drank too much and decided to take his frustrations out on me. It took three stitches to my temple and a hushed up visit to the hospital to finally see what the real Oscar Beaumont was truly like. Now, I felt
sorry for all the teenagers chasing after him, his smooth voice only sung love songs for so long.

“Go away, Oscar,” I said, refusing to look away. I wanted my message to get across loud and clear and sometimes Oscar didn’t pay that much attention. He normally heard only what he wanted to hear and s
aw what he wanted to see. I couldn’t believe I used to hang off his every word.

“That’s no way to greet your lost long lover,” he continued relentlessly. If he wasn’t careful,
he
was going to need three stitches to the temple. “Who’s your friend?”

“Forest, Oscar. Oscar, Forest.”

“Sucky name. What brings you two to Nola?”

“I’m here on tour,” I replied through gritted teeth. “Now go away, you’re putting me off my dinner.”

Oscar laughed and I felt Forest put a gentle hand on my thigh under the table. “I didn’t think you ate anymore, isn’t that why you went into rehab? Or was that for another addiction?” He sniffed, emphasizing the movement so it was clear he was talking about drugs. “If I’d have known how much more interesting you were going to get, I would have stuck around longer.”

Forest stood. Perhaps I should have had my hand on
his
thigh to keep him from doing something stupid. “Walk away, dude, walk away.”

BOOK: Songbird
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