Chapter 33
Keira
The buzz of my phone alarm shatters my peaceful sleep.
With my eyes still closed, I tap around the nightstand until I’m gripping the device. I bring it an inch close to my face, open one eye and press the snooze button.
I throw the phone somewhere on the bed and flip over, intent on falling back to sleep.
Not even two minutes go by before my phone rings.
For God’s sake.
With a frustrated grunt, I sit up in bed and search around for my phone.
Crap.
It’s in the middle of the bed, and I have to crawl to it.
I check the time as I answer the call. “Hello.” God, my voice is groggy.
“You’re everywhere. I mean, everywhere.” Michaela’s voice comes blaring through the phone.
I pull the device away from my ear before bringing it close again.
“Mikki, it’s only seven o’clock in the morning west coast time and you’re shouting. My brain is still asleep. You need to take it down by several notches.”
“Sorry for being so excited. I just can’t help it.
I am so happy for you, Keira. You deserve it.
You have no clue you’re totally famous right now?
Are you going to start singing again? Will you go the indie route?
Or do you prefer a small label?” Her tone is still too chipper, and she’s talking way too fast. Combined with the litany of questions, my mind is spinning.
“Oh, you’re talking about the pre-promotional shots for SCORE Yours and the video clip from the radio interview.”
“Yes, and yes. I’m also talking about the kiss to end all kisses.”
I frown into the phone.
“What are you talking about?”
“Can we do a video call?”
“I just woke up. I’m sure I could scare small children.”
“Newsflash. We used to be roommates in Nepal. I’ve seen you at your worst.”
“Thanks, friend.”
She laughs. “Come on. We need a face-to-face for this. I want details.”
I agree.
A second later, her grinning face pops on the screen.
“Oh my God, you and Rhys… so hot. So freaking hot. I can only hope to find a guy who kisses me like that one day. Sigh.” She bats her eyes at me.
“Wait. There are clips of us kissing on the internet?”
I’m awake now.
“Everyone’s talking about it,” she says.
“No one warned me the photographer was going to leak them.”
“I’m sure it’s all part of the promotional machine. Hollywood does it all the time. The same goes for a lot of tech companies,” she says. “You give people a taste to whet their appetite.”
“I don’t see how that’s related to the headphones.”
“SCORE Yours is a tech company,” Mikki says. “I’m sure pre-orders spiked today. The press is fanning the frenzy.”
“Seriously?”
She nods. “You should see the headlines. My favorites are, ‘BILLIONAIRE RHYS HARTFORD CLAIMS SONGBIRD KEIRA WEATHERLY’ And ‘IF THE NEW SCORE YOURS HEADPHONES GUARANTEE THAT KIND OF KISS, I’LL ORDER A DOZEN’”
“That last one is hilarious,” I say.
“Keira, people are going nuts. I’ve pre-ordered a pair.”
“Michaela, you didn’t have to do that. I could’ve asked Rhys.”
She lifts her chin up. “I won’t hear of it.”
She’s so sweet. I don’t have the heart to argue.
I’ll make sure she gets the other colors.
“This is promising to be an epic year for you,” she says.
“Yesterday, I expected a photoshoot and nothing more. I never imagined walking on that set would help me find my voice again.” I pause.
“Rhys has been after me to talk to Holt Christensen—a friend of his who owns a record label. He’s a former big time rock star, so it’s not only about the money with him––”
“You’re going to meet with him?” The excitement shines bright in her green eyes.
“I’m considering it.”
“You should give this another chance,” Mikki says. “If you’re dealing with a former artist, he won’t try to turn you into a commodity like your former record label.”
“Rhys assures me Holt won’t,” I say. “Belching out the emotional lyrics to that powerful song on the set, and then a few hours later performing a fun song with a catchy beat… People have never reacted to my voice like that before.”
“Because people have never heard your real voice before.”
I laugh a little.
“What?”
“That’s what Rhys says.”
“You owned those songs––”
“Once again, you’re in sync with Rhys.”
“Your boyfriend and I are pretty smart people.”
“Har har. Funny.”
“On a serious note. Maybe I’m off base here because I don’t understand the ins and outs of the music industry,” she says.
“Your reluctance to step into the limelight again is justified. Your old record company was only interested in fabricated vapid teenybopper bobbleheads. What if the second time around, you work with an ally who will foster the gift God gave you instead of forcing you to be someone you’re not?
You think you crashed and burned after leaving London. What if it was merely a steppingstone?”