My Rock #8 (The Rock Star Romance Series - Book #8) (3 page)

“Watch me.”

“You won’t get your money or your contract--”

I cut him off. “I wasn’t going to get it anyways.
You were doing everything in your power to screw me out of it. Now you don’t
have to stress about whether or not I give you any more shit about it. I’m
walking out, now.”

“I could sue you for breach of contract.”

I shrugged, “You can try.” I turned and started to
walk out.

The other guy stood up and said, “Tristan, wait!” I
turned around and the guy said, “I’m Manny Diaz. I’m the CEO of Troubled Times Records.”
He stuck out his hand. I wasn’t in the mood for any pleasantries at the moment
so I didn’t take it. He seemed to get it. He smiled and said, “I’m a friend of
Jake. I was in Houston, so I stopped by to say hello and ask about you. We
hadn’t got as far as you yet, but since you’re here and you seem to be free, I’ll
just ask you myself. How’d you like to work for me?”

Jake looked like an aneurysm was exploding in his
head. I could actually see his pulse rising just by watching the vein in his
neck. I swallowed the smile, but the knowledge that he was so pissed off about
it made me determined to say yes to this guy no matter what. But I had to ask,
“Work for you doing what?”

He laughed, “Making records, of course. I can get
you a lucrative contract. I’ll be back in the L.A. offices in a week. Meet me
there next Wednesday and we’ll get this ball rolling…”

“What the fuck?” Jake asked him.

“This is a guaranteed deal? You won’t weasel out of
it like your friend Jake here?” I asked him.

“You give me a verbal okay right now and I guarantee
you a record deal. You’ve been killing it up there all season. America loves
you!”

“Then okay!”

“What the fuck is happening here?” Jake was glaring
at his ‘friend’.

“All’s fair in love and the record business, Jake,
you know that. You’d do the same.” Manny turned back towards me and said, “I’ll
see you in L.A.” I reached my hand out and he took it. As I shook it, I looked
into Jakes eyes. I saw murder there.

I didn’t give a rat’s ass.

CHAPTER
FIVE

ELLY

I floated through the day, setting up for the show
in Houston with a smile on my face. Something had changed between me and
Tristan. It wasn’t anything either of us said out loud, or even alluded to, but
I could feel that it was different. It wasn’t just about sex anymore and I was
becoming less and less afraid of the feelings I was having for him. I could
have been wrong, because he never talked to me about feelings either, but I got
the feeling that he was having the same for me. I was still a little worried
about whatever happened the day before. But after the show, he seemed okay, so
whatever happened in the morning couldn’t have been all that bad.

Hannah and I were standing behind the stage, looking
out at Ethan performing and Hannah said, “He’s good, but do you notice how much
more into it the crowd gets when Tristan’s out there than any of them?”

I smiled; I’d noticed it, of course, but I thought I
was just being biased.

“Yeah, I do notice that. Tristan’s just got that
quality that makes him a star. I mean, he’s talented, too, obviously; but even
if he wasn’t, I think he could still command a crowd.”

“He has the same effect on you, too. I can see it in
your eyes just when you talk about him.”

I didn’t comment on that. There was no sense in
denying it. I knew it was as obvious on my face as it was in my heart. Even in
my voice, I guessed; the last time I’d talked to both my mother and Susie on
the phone they’d commented on it. I didn’t care, though; I didn’t have to hide
it from anyone any longer.

Ethan finished his performance and Brooke went next.
She was losing weight, drastically. Everyone had commented on it and the
producers had even talked with her about it. They were concerned for her health
since it seemed to be happening overnight. I kind of felt sorry for her. She
was one of those girls who
was
so pretty, and she’s
actually even talented, but it doesn’t seem to be enough. She always seemed to
be reaching out, begging for attention. Maybe she’d get a record deal, too,
after the tour and that would feed her need for attention. I really didn’t wish
her any ill will…as long as she never came near Tristan naked, again. In that
case, I’d take pleasure in kicking her ass.

After Brooke finished, the crowd was going wild,
chanting Tristan’s name. He always went last and they always got all wound up
when they waited for him to come out. I was shocked, and the crowd was loudly
disappointed, when instead of Tristan, Ethan returned to the stage. It took him
a really long time to quiet the crowd down.

When he finally did he said, “Hey guys! I’m sorry to
be the bearer of bad news. Tristan Rodgers won’t be performing tonight.” The
crowd went crazy again. I was afraid they were going to riot. I might have joined
them.

I looked at Hannah and said, “What the hell is going
on?” She shrugged and looked as confused as I felt. Ethan was trying to get the
crowd to be quiet so he could finish whatever it was he was trying to say, but
they wouldn’t shut-up. They were chanting for Tristan; that’s what they paid
for and they were demanding he come out. Poor Ethan looked overwhelmed. He was
looking back over his shoulder at us…I thought. I finally looked behind me and
saw Jake standing there. For the first time since I’d met him, he acted like he
didn’t know I was in the room. He looked really pissed and he was staring
straight out at Ethan. Tony was at his elbow, ready to lick his boots if need
be. Jake leaned over and said something into Tony’s ear. Tony nodded and
scurried away.

Jake breezed past us and out onto the stage. He took
the microphone from Ethan and said, “If you won’t calm down and listen to us,
then the show is over.” There was a roll of murmurs and then sudden silence. It
was almost like suddenly going deaf. Then he said, “Thank you. First of all, I
want you all to know that your ticket fee will be refunded for tonight. You’ll
be given a receipt on your way out the door which you can redeem at one of the
locations listed on it.”

Someone screamed up at him, “Is Tristan sick?”

Then there were a barrage of:

“Where is he?”

“Why isn’t Tristan here?”

“Is he okay?”

Jake held his hand up again until the crowd was
silent. I was as much on pins and needles as everyone else, and I felt a little
foolish about not knowing what was going on. Then, I felt like someone kicked
me in stomach and knocked all of the wind out of me when I heard him say,
“Tristan Rodgers walked out on the tour today. He walked out on you…and
all of the
American’s who voted for him on
Fresh Voices
.” Jake tried to say more,
but the crowd was too rowdy. He finally had them shut the front curtain and as
he walked by us again he said, “Break it all down; we need to get out of here
tonight.”

I was frozen to my spot. Shaking and nauseated,
wondering what the hell had happened, and why the hell Tristan hadn’t told me
what was going on. He was walking out on a million dollars and a record
contract. Was he a complete moron?

CHAPTER
SIX

TRISTAN

I sat in the bus and watched what was happening
onstage. I saw Ethan first and couldn’t believe the chicken-shit mother-fucking
producers were going to put it on him to tell that rowdy Texas crowd that they
weren’t going to get what they paid for. Poor Ethan was not the type of guy who
really commanded a lot of attention and it was obvious after a few minutes that
the crowd wasn’t going to listen to a fucking thing the poor guy had to say.
That was when Jake came out and gave his speech about how I’d walked out on
everyone. He’d just cut his own fucking throat. I’d been ready to walk away,
pissed, but willing to leave it all behind. As soon as the bastard did that,
trying to undermine my career before it had even really started, it was on. The
first chance I got when I get back to L.A., I was going to call up one of my
friendly, neighborhood tabloids and spill my guts. I was going to talk until I
was blue in the face about how these bastards are making a fortune off of
selling hope and crushing fucking dreams. When I saw him walk off with Ethan
and close the curtain, I figured I’d better pack up my shit and
get out of the bus before the motherfucker had me removed
by
security. I’d saved enough of my clothing allowance that I could afford an
airline ticket home.

As I started throwing my shit into a duffle bag, I
thought about that word: home. I wondered if I had a home. Would Elly still let
me stay in her apartment? Shit! If Elly stayed on the job, would Susie let me
in? I had enough to crash in a lousy motel for a few days, but it was going to
run out fast and then I’d be fucked. Shit! I knew I did the right thing telling
them to shove it. I could get a real record deal and go on a real tour. I just
needed to make it through the next week or so. I could do that. I’d survived
worse, for sure.

I grabbed my guitar and duffle bag full of shit and
headed for the door. Before I got to it, it was pulled open and Elly stood
there. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was pissed.

“I can explain,” I said.

“Really?
Then why didn’t you explain before the show? Before I had to hear it the same
way everyone else heard it? I’m so fucking stupid. I keep fooling myself into
thinking that I mean more to you than that.”

“Jesus, Elly.
This isn’t about you.”

“It never is,” she said. I knew what she meant, and
I guess I knew she had a right to be mad; but right then her being pissed was
not what I needed, so it just made me mad.

“You’re not the one who just got cheated out of a fucking
million dollars and a record deal, Elly. It’s not supposed to be about you. Get
over yourself for a half a fucking minute.”

She laughed, but it was obvious she was not amused.
Then she said, “Me, get over myself? Are you fucking kidding me? You are the
most self-absorbed, narcissistic son of a bitch I’ve ever met in my life.
Besides that, they didn’t cheat you out of anything. You quit…right? You’re
walking away. How fucking stupid are you?”

Now I was really pissed. Who the fuck did she think
she was calling me stupid. Especially when she didn’t have a fucking clue what
she was talking about. “Walking away? Yeah, I told them to shove it. They were
setting me up to fail, Elly. They never intended to give me that prize. I was
going to be their cash cow all across the U.S. and then they were going to
leave me high and dry when we got back. I wasn’t sitting around waiting for
that to happen. I got another offer, and yes, I told Jake he could shove the
rest of this tour up his ass!”

She was looking at me like I hit her or something. I
was confused. I didn’t know why she was acting like this was so fucking
personal. “All of that happened and you didn’t think about talking to me about
any of it?”

“It was happening fast, Elly. I would have talked to
you about it.”

“When?” she said, looking at the duffel bag and
guitar on my arm. “Were you going to drop me a postcard or send me a text when
you got to L.A.?”

“No, I was coming to find you.”

“Right.
Good luck, Tristan. Have a nice life.” She walked out of the bus and slammed
the door. I was too pissed to follow her. I needed her right then. She was my
only friend, my only support, and she was going to walk out on me like the rest
of them. Fuck that! I wasn’t going to grovel at her feet.

CHAPTER
SEVEN

ELLY

I was so mad when I left Tristan’s bus that I was
shaking. I went back to my own bus and kicked and threw a few things…none of it
made me feel any better. What the hell was I supposed to do? I was in love with
the bastard. I guess I only just realized it when we were fighting. That was
why it hurt so much that he didn’t come and explain this to me himself. I was pissed
off more about the way I found out than I was about what he’d done. I had a
job. I didn’t need his millions. Everything I’d done since the night we met in
that bar had been about making his life better. He said I make it about me; so
far, none of it had been about me. It was always about him. Now the stupid
bastard was not just walking away from his career, he was walking away from a
woman who would have done absolutely anything for him. I kicked the metal
lockers we kept our stuff in, hard, right as the door to the bus opened and
Hannah walked in.

“Hey, are you okay?”

I sucked back the tears that were threatening to
fall. I wasn’t going to cry over him again. I turned around and looked at her
and said, “I don’t know what he’s thinking.”

Hannah sat down on the little sofa and
pat
the seat next to
her
and said, “Have a seat.” I started to refuse, but then I decided there was no
reason to be ugly to her. This wasn’t her fault. I sat down and she said, “I
talked to Hugh after you left.” Hugh was one of Jake’s little assistants, the
guys that Tristan referred to as Minions.