Epic (20 page)

S
he texted Griffin as we arrived, to let him know where we were. As if I needed the possibility of his joining us swinging over my head like the sword of Damocles. Not even a minute rolled by before he answered. He was at the airport, dropping off his latest conquest.

Apparently if there was an acceptable reason to skip an early morning studio call, Monday morning nookie made Griffin’s list.

Yet
I
was the one with the lousy work ethic.

I s
aid nothing and stuffed it down under a fake smile and slight nod of the head.

After we were seated and our order was taken, Emma turned her attention to me.
“So how is your mom, Jordi?”

It still felt weird to hear Maya referred to in such a way. In many ways she was virtually a stranger. Genetically we were linked, but emotionally I still felt detached. This was even truer now that she was in the hospital. It was as though I knew better than to get too close, to prevent feeling even more of a loss should she die.

Yet here I was. I came without a second thought the minute I heard she was sick. So there was an attachment of some sort. I just hadn’t figured it all out yet.

Who had the time? I had a song to record.

“Stable,” I answered Emma’s question. “She’s still in the hospital, but she’s responding well to treatment. She should be home by the end of the week.”

“That’s great news,” Emma said. “We should be done with the song by then, too. Griffin was collaborating with Bryn
this week, trying out different things. I think he’s circling the runway and will land this creative plane within a few days. Granted, they’ll be 25-hour days!” she laughed at her own joke. “But there’s definitely a light at the end of the tunnel.”

“Bryn?” I questioned. “As in Bryn Golightly?”

Bryn Golightly was another reality singing sensation who had won her competition a year or so before I made it to the
Fierce
finale. Ever since her win, she had topped the charts as a reigning pop princess. She was petite, brunette, and had the bluest eyes I had ever seen in my life. She was also as notoriously single as Griffin Slade. They had been paired in the media more than once. Somehow, knowing he had turned to one of his companions, most notably one who “fit” into a traditional pop music mold, to help him with the song I had assumed was mine hit further below the belt than I could have imagined. My interpretation had been inferior enough to work for days to get it right. After a hot weekend in Vegas with Bryn, Griffin had unraveled the mystery and was confident enough to skip a recording session. He put one more person in line between us, the producer at the studio, and – even with his “stellar” work ethic – didn’t bother to show up for work even though I had been forced to take time away from my family to do my part… which still wasn’t good enough.

It occurred to me that Griffin didn’t come to Vegas for me at all. Like Emma had already warned, he simply decided he wanted to head to Sin City and used me as a convenient excuse. I could only imagine how he started his day, amid tangled sheets with Bryn, whereas I had to part with my true love and head down to the studio like some kind of background singer.

Emma sensed how my mood plummeted. “Are you OK?”

I waited until the waiter had placed our plates in front of us. I stabbed a piece of fake meat with my fork, and its savory flavor did nothing to coat yet another blow to my ego courtesy of Griffin Slade. “Not really.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Your boss is an asshole,” I mumbled finally. She was immediately, and understandably, taken aback by my comment, so I elaborated. “
First he tells me that he wants me for this project… no, wait. That’s not true, is it? He tells everyone
else
he wants me for this project, but hardly speaks to me at all, unless it is to tell me how I need to change what I’m doing. He’s so dissatisfied with me that he has to call in another performer, someone with more name recognition than I have, to fix all the bugs. He spends a week romancing said performer in Vegas and lo and behold… all the problems are fixed. He doesn’t even bother to show up to work with me, making me feel even more unnecessary. Meanwhile I’m juggling all these other issues, but I can’t miss one day of work or else I’ll get another lecture from him on my sucky work ethic. He’s a hypocrite and an opportunist, and frankly I’m tired of it. If he doesn’t want me for this project he should just tell me that and put an end to all the bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit,” I hear
d a familiar Australian accent murmur from behind. I whipped my head around to find Griffin standing behind me, his hands on the back of my chair. He and Emma shared a glance before she quickly excused herself to go to the ladies’ room and left Griffin and me alone. It was the last thing I wanted, but there was no escaping him as he hovered over me. He didn’t take her seat until she was out of view. His eyes were dark as they met mine. “I take it there’s been some miscommunication.”

“Actually, there’s been no communication,” I pointed out. “The only time you speak to me is when we’re in the studio. When we’re out among the ‘real people’ I suddenly become invisible.”

“That’s not fair,” he argued. “We hung out more than once in New York.”

“Where you put every person you could in between us,” I countered. “And if there wasn’t a live person to buffer me, you used your phone.
You make me feel like shit, Griffin – even worse than all the parasites on gossip sites that have made it their lives’ goal to do so.”

He shook his head as he dug into Emma’s plate. “
I hate to break it to you, love, but I’ve done nothing at all to you. I do what is right for me, just like anyone else. Just like you. That doesn’t mean it has anything to do with anyone else. I can’t help it if anyone takes that personally.”

“Easy excuse,” I snapped.
“When you treat people like they are insignificant, that’s how they generally feel around you.”

“And since when are your feelings my responsibility?” he wanted to know. “
You seriously need to grow up, Jordi. You’ll get a lot further in this business, and in life, if you take responsibility for your own emotions.”

“And you’ll get a lot further as a human being if you stop being such a selfish douche bag,” I snapped as I hopped up from the seat. “Call Bryn Golightly to finish your goddamn song. Apparently you want to get a lot more done with her than you could ever want to do with me,” I tossed over my shoulder as I stalked from the restaurant and headed right up to my room.

Fuck Griffin Slade. I laid down enough vocals for him to finish the song without me, which seemed to be his preference, anyway.

If not, he could call Bryn back to Vegas and they could spend the rest of the week cuddling and canoodling as they recorded an Oscar-worthy song. No doubt she’d look ah-mazing in her designer gown
as she glided down the red carpet on his arm. I was still scowling as I exited the elevator and stomped all the way to my room.

What arrogance! I thought as I kicked off my shoes and stomped
to the bathroom to draw a long bath, to wash away the grit of anger and disappointment. Who did he think he was? Just because he was Griffin Slade he got to circumvent the rules of decent society? He didn’t get to pick and choose who deserved common courtesy, and then make it the responsibility of those he slighted that they felt bad. If I had to own my “childish” behavior, why couldn’t he be called out on being a dick?

I lounged in the tub until the water turned tepid, trying to figure out what I wanted to do next. Clearly we couldn’t work together after this. And why should we? We obviously didn’t like each other, and it was even more apparent that we didn’t respect each other. Why keep up the pretense? We’d tried for months and it was just one exercise
after the other in futility and frustration.

If he really wanted me to take control of my emotions, the most logical fix – in my mind – was dumping any relationship that made me feel like crap. There was no prize anyone could offer that would make it worth tearing my already tissue-thin self-esteem
asunder. I’d already done my time in that particular circle of hell with Marianne, Pilar and Eddie.

Was a little gold statuette really worth
dealing with someone who considered me lesser than simply because I didn’t fit into a certain size dress? I had had enough trouble fighting that mentality since I first stepped out onto the
Fierce
stage. I didn’t see any value at all indulging anyone who may think that way, especially if that person wanted to blame me for his own narrow-minded point of view.

I opened up my email inbox to fire off a note to Graham. I was fully prepared to dump the pr
oject altogether, financial or occupational consequences be damned. Working with Griffin wasn’t worth what it was doing to my fragile psyche, especially when the rest of my world was falling apart. Unfortunately the news feed on my email provider diverted my attention. Both my name and Griffin’s were trending. My throat closed shut as I clicked on the link, which included a photo from the restaurant downstairs.

LOVERS SPAT IN THE CITY OF SIN?

“
Throw some jumbo shrimp on the barbie!
We know that
Jordi Hemphill has a voracious appetite when it comes to the men in her life, but the plus-size Fierce diva has finally bitten off more than she can chew
.
Tension has plagued Hemphill’s recording sessions with notorious playboy, Griffin Slade. This proved explosive in New York when the performers were thrown together in a super sexy video shoot, courtesy of Roxy Malone. Insiders tell our sources that Slade’s ever-changing arm candy has driven the zaftig singer to the brink of distraction ever since, dragging out these sessions from coast to coast. Hemphill’s jealous, diva antics have been well documented in this blog, so this blogger was not surprised to hear that the pair was seen arguing at a chic Vegas restaurant, where Hemphill was overheard throwing Slade’s on-again-off-again girlfriend, Bryn Golightly, in his face. It appears that in addition to having Golightly collaborate on the new song poised to make Hemphill a film icon, the stalwart bachelor was ditching the heavyweight recording artist to play with his petite plaything on the side. And we all know that Jordi doesn’t like to share the spotlight or her men. Perhaps the notorious man-eater finally figured out in order to snag someone like this sexy, slippery Aussie, she’s actually going to have to lay off the donuts!
”

Miles O’Rourke had struck again. Worse, most online magazines reposted the blog on their own sites to spread the rumor like wildfire, giving it way more credibility than a celebrity gossip blog deserved. Apparently this was what passed as breaking news in our country. Social media was abuzz with my “scandalous affair.” Fans were sending their condolences to Jace, along with salacious offers to comfort him through his heartbreak. And of course I got my fair share of messages, telling me what a worthless cow and two-bit whore I was.

It made me even more determined to scrap the whole project, but Graham was far from sympathetic when I called him. In fact, he reiterated what Griffin had said, that I needed to do what was right for me and let the thoughts and feelings of others be their responsibility – including Griffin. When I pointed out that it scandal could mar the song even before it was released, he chuckled and told me that
the only bad publicity was no publicity at all. Since the “scandal” broke, he had been inundated with calls from every music news outlet to preview Roxy’s video.

I thought Jace would support my decision to jump ship, but he echoed what Graham had said. “As long as we know the truth, what difference does it make?” he reasoned softly. “I was there in Vegas with you for a week and no one blinked an eye. You and I are old news. But you and some other high-profile celebrity? That gets tongues wagging. O’Rourke doesn’t care of the shit he prints is accurate, as long as he gets thousands more views. If you pass up this opportunity because of someone like that, you essentially let them win.”

“It’s not just that,” I said. “Griffin treats me like I don’t exist just because I don’t fit in a size 2 dress. If we’re not working, he’s nose deep in his phone, talking to the people he really wants to hang around. And then, when I point out what a rude asshole he’s being, he says it’s my fault that I feel bad.”

Jace chuckled, which took me by surprise.

“What?”

“He may be a rude asshole, but he’s not wrong. What he thinks of you doesn’t have to matter unless you decide that it does.”

I wanted to toss the phone across the room. It seemed nobody was on my side. “So you’re OK with this?”

“OK with your having an Oscar on our mantel? Yes, I’m completely fine with it.”

“You’re a lot of help, Jace.”

“This is our business, babe,” he said. “You’re going to wo
rk with a lot of different people. You don’t have to like them to learn from them. In fact, you may just learn the most from the people you like the least.”

“I hate it that you’re so sensible,” I muttered.

“And I love it that you’re so passionate,” he responded. “I don’t know about you, but I think we make the perfect pair. Even if you are out to replace me,” he added. I could hear his smile through the phone.