Generations 2.7 kindle (8 page)

He chuckled. “Yeah, actually. But no one ever asks me that. They just expect that I only want to do one thing: sing.”

“Well, yeah, because you’re so good at it.”

He tapped his fingers on the table, like maybe he was hesitant to continue. So Kat urged him on. “So if you’re singing career … flops—which it won’t—and you are jobless, what will you do?”

“Pastry.”

“Pastry?” Kat asked. She didn’t follow.

“A pastry chef. I’d like to have my own bakery.”

“Serious?” Kat tried not to sound too flabbergasted. What an unexpected field for someone so … rockin. “You like to cook?”

“No, not cook. Bake. I like to make breads and cookies … my specialty is Italian pastries.”

“Ah, you’re a Carb Demon? Go figure.” As if his physique wasn’t enough of a lust-trap. Just imagine him with a platter of cookies. No woman could resist that.

Ben laughed at her again. She kind of liked it. “That’s what my mom says. She only lets me bake when she’s out of the house. She says the smell alone makes her gain weight.”

Katrina couldn’t imagine Lena Santareno-Wilder spending much time in a kitchen. A fifty-year-old size zero probably eats her lettuce while running on the treadmill. “How’d you learn to bake?” she asked.

“My grandma Santareno. And a few of our chefs. They always give me pointers.”

“So really, someday you’d like to open a bakery? What would you call it? Rock n’ Dough?”

Again, the laugh. “Good one. I hadn’t come up with any names yet.”

They spent the next several minutes naming his bakery. Kat came up with most of the names. Ben did most the laughing. Bake My Day. Ben’s Fluffy Buns. My Dough Riseth Over.

“Well, now I know who to hire to do my marketing,” he said. “When the time comes,” he added somewhat somberly.

“I really don’t know why you’re worried. You’re not going to need a fall-back plan.”

“I just don’t want to be some middle-aged man holding on to my youth. There are so few artists who can actually transcend time.
 
All
 
the
 
others just dream
 
about their past. I don’t want that.
   

I don’t want to be some has-been without a future.”

“I think you have the determination—and the talent—to excel at whatever you do,” Kat said. “Especially since you are looking forward.”

He gave her a satisfied smile and then took another drink of water. Kat took a drink as well, mostly cause there was a little fire smoldering inside her. Apparently, there was more to Ben Wilder than just being a pop star. That depth that Katrina had always sensed—always hoped for—was there. And it made her stomach sizzle like a fajita.
 

Chapter Five ……

S
o Kat had called Jackson immediately following her impromptu date with Ben. Since no one else could know that she’d even met Ben, her options for sharing the wonders of Ben were limited. And although Jackson mostly teased and made fun of her anytime she talked boy talk, she still needed to download the info to someone. Two things bothered her about the conversation with Jackson. #1. Jackson knew that the date was going to happen. Ben had run the plan past Jackson. And Jackson didn’t call her and give her a heads up. What a Peever. Then #2. Jackson was irritated at
her.
He told her that she was going to blow his once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, all because of that teeny-tiny little lie. The more time Ben spent with Katrina, the greater the likelihood that Ben would discover that there was no relation between Kat and Jack. Other than lunacy, she reminded Jackson.

“Not comforting, Kat,” he’d said over the phone. “You can’t keep coming to the set. I think he likes you and wants to hang with you. You know it’s going to slip out one of these times. But it can’t happen if you’re not around.”
 

“Really, you think he likes me?” she asked.

“Kat, did you hear anything else I just said?”

 
“Um, no.”

He repeated himself, but left out the part about Ben liking her. Then she got it. “You don’t want me at the set anymore?” she asked.

“You understand, right? He finds out that I lied to him and it’s over. Then neither of us will be going back to the set.”

Kat was silent. She cleared her throat. She didn’t know how to tell Jack. So she just blurted it. “Ben invited me to the set for the rest of the filming.”

“What?”

“As his personal guest.”

“Oh, Kat,” Jackson groaned. “You can’t. You have to bow out.”

“Yeah, right Jack. Not gonna happen.”

“Please, Kat.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t blow it. This secret will be taken to my grave. I don’t want him to know I lied either. I’ve got it covered. No worries.”

Jackson only groaned in response.

……

It’s the dream. I feel myself twitch, even though my body and mind are disconnected. I’m telling my body to wake up. I don’t want this dream.

The light is so bright that I can’t see. It makes my head hurt. I squint. I blink. Over and over again. Finally, the image comes into focus. It’s the man. He looks afraid. His mouth opens like he’s going to talk. But nothing comes out. Except blood.

I turn and start to run. But I slip. I look down. Blood. All over. On my pants, my shoes, my hands. I try running again. But it’s too slippery.

 
I look back at the man. He’s pale. His eyes are glazed open. It’s obvious that he’s dead. But then he talks. “You. You did this.” His voice is raspy, but pointed. Accusatory.

“No,” I say. “No. It wasn’t me.”

He doesn’t believe me. He repeats it. “You. You did this.”

“No!” This time I yell it. Again and again. “No! No! No!”

Then I become aware. My body and mind have reconnected. I’m yelling out loud, asleep in my room. My body is covered in sweat. I bring my mind through the heavy fog and force my eyes open.

……

K
atrina felt sick to her stomach. Something was going down. Jackson had called her last night to tell her he couldn’t carpool this morning. He had an early morning meeting at the studio.

Apparently he’d received a call from Ben’s stepdad, Paul, over the weekend. Jackson was told that Ben wanted to modify the dressage. Since Jackson’s parents wouldn’t allow him to work on a Sunday, the meeting had to wait until the workweek. But Jackson had school at eight, so the meeting was scheduled for seven a.m.

Kat had hardly slept last night—worrying about it. And the stress did weird things to her dreams. She had just sat down at her desk, stretched, and then let out a big yawn. She prayed the discussion in English was lively today, otherwise she knew she’d be nodding off.
 

Jackson walked in just before the bell rang. Was he just now getting here? He looked grumpy. He didn’t acknowledge Kat.

Yaak. It was over. Gig’s up. They’d found out Jackson had lied. For her. So she could meet her dreamboat. She felt like crud-on-a-stick.

At lunchtime, she waited for him by her locker. But he was nowhere to be found. She went to the stairwell, thinking she would go to his last class and find him. But she didn’t need to. He was just coming down the landing.

 
“You … okay?” she asked hesitatingly. He walked past, still not acknowledging her. And he didn’t say a word the entire walk to his locker.

“I’m going nuts, Jack,” she finally blurted. “Please tell me what happened. Are we banished?”

“No, Kat.”

“They’re just mad then? Slap on the wrist kind of thing?”

“No.”

“So did they find out about the lie or not?”

“No. No one knows.”

“Then were good.”

“Sure.”

Kat was confused. Then she gasped. “Did they dump you? Do they want to do a different treatment for the video?”

“Uh … yes. No. Kind of.”

“Could you be any clearer?” she asked.

He shoved his books in his locker—a little roughly she thought. What’d those books ever do to him? He gave the locker door a tap with his fist, making it clang shut loudly. Then he gave this huge sigh. “No, I’m not canned. However, there are some,” Jackson used his fingers to put quote marks around the next word, “minor,” he drew a deep breath, “changes. But I’m not at liberty to say what the changes are. What I can tell you is that Ben would like to pick you up from school and personally bring you to the set.”

“What?” Ben personally taking her to the set? Why was it that whenever she heard his name, all the other words lost their meaning?

Funny, that’s exactly where Jackson went next. “Cool the obsession, Kat. Whenever I say his name you float off into la-la land. Like nothing else I say is even interesting … or meaningful. I just told you that my treatment got changed. The treatment that I sweat over for an entire month is now defunct. But that doesn’t matter to you. Apparently only things related to the word ‘Ben’ matter in your world.”

Kat blinked hard. She was getting scolded by her best bud. She felt bad.
But.
Ben was coming to school to pick her up? How could she think about anything else?
Fake it
, a little voice told her.
  

“Jack, I’m so sorry. But you have to tell me more if you want me to be sympathetic. All you said was ‘minor’ changes. I didn’t know that you were upset until you jumped down my throat and grabbed my uvula. Want to talk about it?”

“Can’t,” Jackson said. He turned and started walking toward the cafeteria. “Sworn to secrecy, blah blah blah.”

“But you feel like your toes got stepped on?”

“Yeah. But not just my toes. My entire foot. Stomped would probably be a better description.”

“So it’s not at all the treatment you wrote? They’re changing everything? But I thought Ben said your treatment was ‘magical’. What happened to that?”

“It’s still the same concept. But it’s being implemented differently. It’s not at all what I had in mind.”

“But they still are listening to you, and your ideas? Or is at all Tim’s show now?” Jackson had introduced Kat to Tim, the director. Jackson pretty much worshiped the guy. Apparently, Tim had a long line of credits. Commercials, TV shows, several big-name music videos. Jackson had told Kat that he imagined that Tim probably cost twice as much as other directors Ben could have hired. That’s how good Tim was.

Jackson stopped walking. He sighed. “It’s Ben’s show. Always was. I just didn’t realize that. Tim taught me something very valuable today.”

The look on Jack’s face didn’t match what he was saying. He looked irritated beyond belief, not like he’d just learned a life-altering lesson. In fact, he looked like he could punch the next person who walked by and looked at him wrong. Kat was very careful to look at him with wide, sympathetic eyes. And to not say anything obsessive about Ben. She didn’t want a black eye. Especially if she was going to see Ben today.

Jackson continued, “Tim said that the star is always in charge. They call the shots. If they want changes, changes are made. No matter what.”

“Really?” Kat asked. That seemed weird. She thought the respective experts in each field would call the shots. She said as much to Jackson. “It just seems like so many stars are only famous because of the creativity of others in the industry.”

“Well, you are right on that count. The puppets, as Tim called them, do whatever they are told. Their songs, their images, their entire careers are fabricated by producers wanting to line their pockets with the talents of the young and the beautiful. But Ben—Ben’s not a puppet. Ben’s the real deal. He’s the creative genius. They’ve told me that from the beginning. I’m starting to understand what it means: what Ben wants is what Ben gets.” Jackson placed a hand on Kat’s shoulder. “Even if it’s something that might not be in the best interest of all those involved. Get what I’m saying?”

“Um, yeah,” she responded, even though she wasn’t sure what Jack was getting at. She could tell he was bitter about something that Ben had changed. “You think Ben is a spoiled brat and you are being forced to cater to his every whim.” She had yet to see that side of Ben, but hey, Jackson had spent more time with the male diva than she had. “I’m sorry Jack; sorry that you’ve been let down. But it’s still a great experience. It will be a jumpstart to your resume, no matter what changes Ben implements. You have your foot in the door, before you’ve even applied to college. Maybe you should just focus on that fact.” Jackson squinted at her. It wasn’t entirely a scowl, but it was close. “You know, accentuate the positive!” she added with a forced enthusiasm.

“Sure thing, Kat,” he said in a flat voice. He started walking again, leaving Kat a few steps behind.

They were silent the rest of the way to the cafeteria. It was uncomfortable: they usually had so much to gab about. They sat at their usual table, with their usual friends, but neither of them engaged in much of the conversation. Hannah was talking about auditions for the school play. Not only did she wish that a different play had been selected, she expressed her concern that the regular male lead—Kenton—would be selected yet again. And he was just wrong for this part. “Don’t you think so, Kat?”

“Yeah, totally. So wrong.” Kat hadn’t really been listening, but she knew that was the right response to make. She didn’t want to ruffle any feathers. She currently lacked the mental capacity to get into any discussions.

“Who do you think would play the role of Jed better?” Hannah asked.

Shoot. This response required some brain activity. “Um,” Kat thought about it, but she couldn’t come up with any name other than Ben. “I dunno. It’s hard to say, since I haven’t seen the auditions.”

“Well you should come. Today, right after school. My audition is at four. You could be there to cheer me on.”

Jackson exchanged a knowing look. “I can’t,” Kat promptly said. “I have … something to do.”

“Oh,” Hannah responded. Her eyebrows were arched. She looked back and forth between Jackson and Katrina. She seemed suspicious about something. Nosey Hannah.

With lunch over, Jackson dumped his lunch in the trash and made his way out of the lunchroom. Kat ran to catch up. She eyed him warily. Would he jump down her throat again if she mentioned the “B” word? Jack seemed to be more relaxed; less agitated. She went for it. “So … um … Jack, you said something earlier. About Ben picking me up from school?”

Jackson laughed out loud. What was funny? “Yeah,” was his only answer.

“So why, exactly, is he picking me up?”

When Jackson stopped at his locker, he turned to face Kat. His face was tense again. “Because, he wants too.”

“So, seriously, Ben is going to be here … in the parking lot, right after school?”

 
“Typically that’s what picking someone up from school consists of.”

Jackson gathered his books from his locker. Kat was freaking out. She no longer cared if Jackson was irritated with all things Ben. This was seriously huge.

“Right after school?”

“Yeah,” Jackson’s voice reflected that he’d lost patience with her questions.

Kat gulped. “Crap. Oh crap.” She shuffled away from Jackson and made the ten steps to her locker. The mirror. She needed to see the mirror. It wasn’t good. Hair in a loose pony, little make-up. She hadn’t even tweezed her eyebrows that morning. Crap. Crap.

She noticed someone at her side. It was Jackson. He chuckled. “Not liking your carpool choice?”

“Jack, I have to skip class. I need to go home.”

“Why?”

She shoved Jack’s shoulder. Duh. “I can’t let Ben see me like this.”

“Like what?” his voice still had an air of laughter.

“Like a citizen of Idoitville. I’m wearing jeans and a hoodie! A hoodie: with a ketchup stain on my wrist! I look like a dork.”

“You’re wearing the attire of the average American teenager. Everyone wears jeans and hoodies to school.”

“Exactly. Average. Not the desired look for someone like …” she paused, looking around. People were too close. “… like
him
. I have to go home and change.”

Now Jack looked miffed. “You’re going to go home and primp for a guy? Isn’t that like saying that you’ll do anything to please this certain someone? Great moral system.”