Chapter 31 #2
“I know I’ve already told you this,” Pia says, “but I’ll say it again in case anything is unclear.
I’ve pre-approved all questions and vetoed anything about Chip.
You can hint at what went wrong—perhaps an off-the-cuff comment about his particular interest in undiscovered talent—but don’t throw mud because we’ll have a hard time washing it off.
The tour is a safe zone, as is talk about new music.
Tell them you’re working on new material and you’re excited to collaborate with Zane, but no release details for now.
Their legal team is well aware that what happened in New Orleans and the recent arrest of your attacker is under a gag order while the case is handled in the courts, so don’t worry about them raising that subject on air.
I’ve supplied a couple of cute anecdotes about the baby bird you rescued when it fell out of a tree on your property last year and the signed sheet music you donated to the performing arts high school in Philadelphia last fall. ”
“Chip bad. Music good. Small talk painful.” Rosie nods sharply. “Got it.”
Pia shakes her head with a chuckle, then picks up her bag and gets to her feet. “Can I leave you two alone for now? I need to chat to the promotions team about coordinating our social media efforts.”
Rosie waves her hand. “Go. We’re fine. We’ll see you back here after the show?”
“Sounds great. Good luck. I’ll be right offstage if you need me.”
Pia disappears into the hallway outside, the door clicking shut behind her, and when Rosie and I are alone, I cross the room to be closer to her.
I wonder how long it’ll be until this anxiety to always be near enough to touch her fades away.
Is it the need to protect her or the desire to feel her that pulls me in—or both?
“You cannot mess up my lipstick today,” she says, stepping backward with a smile. “So stop looking at me like that!”
“Like what?” I ask innocently. “I was merely admiring your… ah…”
Rosie giggles and plants her hands on her hips. “My what?”
I pull up short, drinking in the woman before me, and answer her from my heart.
“Your resilience. Your intelligence. Your determination and your kindness. I’m standing here looking at you and wondering how someone so perfect on the surface could possibly be more beautiful inside where it matters the most.”
Her blue eyes well up, and I slip my arms around her waist before brushing my lips against her forehead. “I’m not going to kiss you, Songbird, but I really, really want to.”
“Oh, Finn,” she says before she’s interrupted by a knock on the door. She glances around my shoulder at the mirror, weaving out of my embrace to pluck up a tissue and carefully dry her eyes. Her laugh is watery. “I told you not to ruin my make up!”
“Sorry,” I say with a grimace. “Should I tell the producer you need a few more minutes?”
“No. I think I’m okay.”
The knock sounds again at the same time my phone rings, and I pull it out of my back pocket to check the caller ID. It’s Drew, and the surprise at seeing his name on my screen rings in my ears like an alarm bell. I answer the call at the same time Rosie calls out, “Come in!”
“Drew,” I say. “How are you?”
“I’m not sure. You know those social media comments you’ve been tracking? We got three more today and they’re still coming from LA.”
My heart skips a beat. “What?”
“Yep. This mistr_ess_el you’ve been tracking. It’s got to be someone else.”
My stomach drops at the way he says it. Mistress L instead of Mister S L, the way it’s always sounded in my head. It’s like a key slipping into a lock with an audible snap.
Mistress L. Lauren.
I realize my mistake in the split second it takes for someone to slip through the dressing room door, but the person who does isn’t the producer who brought us here. It’s not Pia, either, and it isn’t someone from the television crew. I know who it is, and Rosie does too.
“Lauren?” Rosie’s tone, shocked at first, turns to rage. “How did you get in here?”
“Please don’t be mad, Rosalie,” Lauren begs, clutching nervously at the oversized tote slung across her chest. “I know the talent booker. He sneaked me. I had to see you and you wouldn’t answer my emails.”
“You need to go,” I say firmly, setting my phone face down on the dresser, keeping the line between me and Drew open. Fuck. Fuck. How could I get this so wrong? “Now.”
“No, I can’t.” Lauren shakes her head, her once-dark hair bleached as blonde as straw and her lips coated in coral lipstick. She turns her wide eyes on Rosalie. “I have to explain what happened with Chip so that you forgive me and make me your assistant again.”
Rosie scoffs delicately. I try to caution her with a look she doesn’t see, and I’m already debating and discarding the different ways to get her out of here.
“You can’t be serious,” Rosie says. “You slept with the man I was planning to marry.”
“He made me do it!” Lauren cries with a petulant stomp of her foot.
“He said he loved me and that he’d make me a star, just like you.
But then he blamed me when you left, and now he wants nothing to do with me.
I told him I could be just like you, and that he wouldn’t even notice the difference between us, and he called me… he called me crazy.”
“This is wild! You can’t possibly believe I’ll rehire you. It’s ridiculous!” Rosie crosses her arms over her chest as her attention drops to Lauren’s feet. “Are you wearing my shoes?”
I take a step toward Lauren, and her head whips my way. “Don’t come any closer,” she barks. “I’m not leaving. You can’t make me.”
“Yeah,” I tell her firmly. “I can.”
She’s got a gun in her hand before I take another step, pulled out of the handbag she just flung to the floor. My stomach hits my throat and my thoughts drift to the empty holster at my waistband. Rosie gasps as Lauren lifts the weapon, holding it like she’s not used to it.
“Back off,” she spits, swinging the gun from Rosie to me and back again. “This is between me and Rosalie. And if you even think of making a sound, I’ll kill her. I swear to God I’ll shoot.”
Terror takes me by the heart, and I beat it back with every skill I’ve ever learned in all my years in hostile situations.
I lift my palms to let Lauren know I see her and I’m listening, and I stop my advance without stepping back, but I’m still not close enough to disarm her without putting Rosie at risk.
“I hear you,” I say calmly. “You want to talk to Rosalie. Chip took advantage of both of you, and you both got hurt. You want to talk about it, and that makes sense, but this isn’t the way to do it.”
“I don’t want to do it like this,” Lauren says, her tone pitchy and manic as she talks to Rosie and not me.
Her hands shake as she keeps the gun aloft.
Her eyes, burning and filling with tears, are frightening.
“But you won’t listen any other way. Your phone was off for weeks!
You didn’t answer my emails. I found your publicist and she rejected me.
I commented all the time on social media, but I know you don’t check your DMs. What was I supposed to do? You left me no choice!”
As desperate as I am to look at Rosie to make sure she’s okay, I don’t take my focus off Lauren, and what I say next is as much for Rosie as it is for her.
“I’m sure Rosalie wants to talk to you too,” I say evenly, patience dripping from every word. “If you put down the gun, we can have a real chat. What do you think?”
Lauren starts to sob, and she shakes her head. “It’s too late for that. I know what will happen next. I’ll put down the gun and lose all my power. You’ll have me arrested and thrown into prison. I know it.”
I swallow and edge sideways, sensing an escalation in her emotional dysregulation, which means I’m losing control of the situation. I need to get between Lauren and Rosie in case… Fuck. In case it’s the last thing I do.
“What do you want from me, Lauren?” Rosie says, her voice shaking so badly that I’m taken by a rise of nausea.
“You want to talk? Let’s talk. I’m here and I’m listening.
We can talk about Chip if you want or how I can help get your career back on track.
Let’s make a plan, okay? Let’s figure this out. ”
Lauren chuckles darkly as her grip on the gun grows steadier, and a chill runs up my spine.
“You’re just saying that. I knew this would happen.
I knew once I had all the power here, I’d finally get what I want, but I wanted it then.
I wanted you to want it too. It’s too late now. It’s too late for all of it.”
“It’s not too late,” I tell her, moving across the room with the subtlest of movements. “It’s never too late to make the right choice.”
“I just wanted to be you.” Lauren’s sad little laugh turns into a sigh.
Her tears stop as suddenly as they started, and her line of sight over my shoulder tells me Rosie’s safely behind me now.
“You have everything, Rosalie. Fame. Fortune. Talent. Men. And who am I? Nobody. What do I have? Nothing.”
She raises the pistol higher, the barrel pointed right at Rosie, finger hovering on the trigger. “So, I guess that means I’ve got nothing to lose.”
I lunge, predicting correctly that she’s about to fire, and as the first bullet leaves the gun, Rosie screams behind me.
I take Lauren to the ground, bile rising in my throat at the possibility that Rosie’s been shot, but then the door flies open, the gun goes off again, fire explodes in my thigh, and the world goes dark.