Chapter 22
Although the tension between the two of them had eased, Quentin didn’t seem interested in keeping Raine close—not at all. She tried telling herself it wasn’t her fault, that it was something weird going on with Quentin, but it was hard.
They all but finished the album but both thought there was something missing.
Most of her days now were spent rehearsing, because a tour would surely be inevitable, even though she hadn’t heard anything official yet.
She also kept writing, hoping to compose one more song that would fit with the others on the album, but nothing felt right.
A few days later, Mal sent her an email to let her know that the awards show was considering asking Raine to perform her single, and although it lifted her spirits, something else was going on inside her.
What was wrong?
She read the last part of the email again: They love this song, Raine. They love YOU. And we’re gonna knock ‘em dead. So be ready to perform your song at the awards. I’ll let you know their final decision.
Focusing on her gut, she realized she was also scared shitless.
The last time she’d performed in public had been the charity concert where she’d collapsed—and it had had the exact opposite effect of what she’d hoped.
She wouldn’t do anything like that again…
but being in public again so soon after that event scared her.
Having Quentin there would help, because, out of everyone around her, she trusted him the most. Even with the distance between them now, she knew he had her best interests at heart. With the industry people, she could never be sure.
Quentin had never said for sure if he’d go…so when she went to the kitchen for breakfast, she waited for him to come back from his walk. When he arrived, she said, “Hey, can I ask you a question?”
“Yeah.” He poured himself a cup of coffee…but she waited, wanting to see his face when she asked.
When he turned around, she said, “Mal told me the guild is considering having me perform ‘Ripped Away’.” The asshole likely hadn’t figured out it was about him—or, worse, didn’t care.
“That’s great.” Yeah, Quentin said the right words, but there was something about the way he said it that made her feel like he didn’t actually feel that way. Did he regret making this album with her?
“Um…I could have my band back me up, but they don’t know any of the music yet. And I was kinda thinking it might be cool to do an acoustic version. Everyone’s heard the single as it’ll be on the album, but I thought it might hit harder with soft accompaniment.”
“Good call.”
“I envisioned…you playing the acoustic guitar so I can focus on getting the emotion right in the words.” Although Quentin wasn’t frowning at her words, he didn’t look enthusiastic, either.
“The label would love that. It would continue to push the narrative,” she added, making air quotes while using their stuffy language.
At that, Quentin nodded and glanced at the coffee in his cup as if trying to read tea leaves. “Yeah, I can see how they’d say something like that.”
Raine swallowed the lump in her throat. “I just…wanted to make sure you’ll be there.”
After a few more seconds of silence, he let out a small breath and then put his empty hand on her shoulder—the first time he’d touched her in weeks. “I will.” But it wasn’t just his words. She knew with his tone and his eyes that he meant it.
Raine’s heart bloomed with his promise—because, despite everything else that had happened the last few weeks, this meant something.
It meant he believed in her—and he believed in the song. And, maybe, it was possible he also believed in them. Maybe he just had a lot of personal shit to work out. She could relate to that.
And she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that her career was back on the upswing.
As angry as she’d been with the people at the label, she had to give them credit.
All they’d made her—them—do thus far had worked.
While there was still a lot of negativity directed at her online, she knew that this new album would once and for all close that door.
Deep down, she hoped that this would be what it took to pull Quentin out of his funk…because, as much as she hated to admit it, she needed him.
Mal, Russ, and Hunter showed up two days later, ready to take her to a conference room in a hotel in Joshua Tree that they turned into a workspace, hoping to review the specifics of the show with Raine.
Even though she was upset that Quentin wasn’t there, they’d told her he didn’t need to be, and he’d gladly taken them up on it.
Quentin might have agreed to do the song with her, but he wasn’t into meeting with these people.
Mal specifically had said, “You’re the one who’ll be performing the song, not Quentin. ”
And that confirmed that she would be performing for the awards—but she had yet to break it to them that Quentin would be by her side.
When they left Quentin’s place, there were several cars parked on the side of the dusty road, but they began following them when they left, unconcerned how obvious their actions were.
And when, a few minutes later, they arrived at their destination, the cars simply parked close by, with people getting out and taking pictures.
One guy even shouted, “Raine! Over here!”
Turning her head, she smiled but then immediately followed Russ into the building.
At the hotel, they were directed to a meeting room, one that was already set up for them.
Once they were all seated, Russ had Hunter take their orders for lattes for the group because apparently the carafe of coffee on a side table wasn’t good enough.
Russ poured himself a glass of ice water as the three of them settled in and continued filling up glasses for them all.
The room was all white and brown with a big window framing the landscape where several Joshua trees were surrounded by other cacti and shrubs under a bright sun.
When she’d arrived over two months ago, she’d absolutely hated it all, feeling like the landscape was barren and depressing—but now it felt like a haven…
quiet and clean, far away from what she’d experienced over the last few years in L.A.
Now, she understood why Quentin loved it.
While she was able to connect with the outdoors, she felt some peace—but Mal and Russ sat at places at the table where her back would have to be turned from the window. When she did, her view facing the too-white wall made her feel like she didn’t belong here.
She belonged out there.
Russ said, “We’re pleased with the reception of the single. It debuted at fifty-nine and it’s climbing. That’s pretty impressive.”
That had been one of the things Raine hadn’t bothered to check…so it was gratifying news. Unable to help herself, she said, “Wow.”
“Yeah,” Mal said, nodding enthusiastically. “That’s a big deal.”
Russ, though, wasn’t about to let them get too excited, his words falling like a wet blanket. “It’s far more than we wished for.”
“Well…that means your plan worked, right?”
“No. It means the plan is working.”
Okay, so this guy was splitting hairs—and Raine wasn’t sure where he was going with it, so she just nodded, taking a sip of water from the glass in front of her.
“We’re not done yet. We’ve only just started.”
“So what does that mean? What do you need me to do other than what I already have? You’ve already lined up appearances and other stuff—so why the lecture?”
Russ smiled, but it was like the smile a tiger might give her before pouncing. “Well…we need more authenticity. That’s what people respond to.”
She shook her head. “Yeah, I know that—and I’m not being fake…except for your concocted romance. In fact, this is the most honest album I’ve ever created.”
Russ nodded and, while Raine couldn’t put her finger on why she thought it, she would have said it was a condescending gesture, as if he were talking to a dumb kid.
“The press have seen you and Quentin together twice—the first time was the photo shoot and the second time was from the few photos taken at the listening party. But the public isn’t stupid.
They’re not going to believe you’re an item if they don’t see you together enough.
They’ve caught Quentin leaving his compound a couple of times and now they caught you here on your own.
We need lots more to make it believable. ”
Mal, needing to feel like he had some authority in this situation, added, “Yeah. Keep the momentum going. It’s a great story.”
Raine found that she was irritated and also confused, feeling a little manipulated—but, for some reason, the monster inside wasn’t flaring. What the hell was up with that? She felt as calm as a desert breeze.
As if he hadn’t even heard Mal, Russ spoke again. “We need you to sell the couple. That means when Quentin leaves the house, you go with him. You need to be seen together. As often as possible.”
Mal interjected, “They had some pictures of Quentin at the store threatening a photographer, but you were nowhere to be found. They don’t want to see Quentin without you.”
“He’s going to be playing the guitar to accompany me at the awards show. That’s something, isn’t it?”
“That’s a great start. I’m glad to see you thinking about this intentionally.”
Nodding, Mal, said, “Agreed.”
“But it’s not enough. So here’s the plan,” Russ said, sliding over a sheet of paper in front of Raine. “We’ve booked some appearances for both of you to attend—where you’ll be seen as a couple and not two individual people.”
“We did what you asked.” Raine knew that, although Quentin had played the part well, there was something about it that had caused him to close himself off from her—and that was the last thing she wanted more of. “Are you asking us to lie now?”
Chuckling, Russ said, “No, of course not. Just…don’t correct anyone’s assumptions. That’s easy, right?”
While Russ and Mal started going over what the future would look like in painstaking detail and Hunter arrived with lattes for all, Raine only paid half attention.
Instead, her focus was internal. She knew their plan could work and she told herself that it would keep her safe and make everything easier.
But she knew with Quentin, being as closed off as he was now, it would just be an act. It wouldn’t be real. For her, though, it was so hard blurring that line. What if she fell for him again, losing herself in the fantasy? Would that look like success, any of it?
Would it hurt her heart more than it already did?
By the time they wrapped up late afternoon, Russ said, “So…you need to let us know if this is doable.”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Specifically, I mean you and Quentin as a couple. Earlier, you didn’t seem willing to commit to what we’re asking.”
Jesus. They were asking for an answer she couldn’t give right now—because of Quentin. She would never dream of speaking for him. “I’ll let you know.”
But it just didn’t feel right. Not at all.
The next morning, Raine was rehearsing the song for the awards show, focusing only on vocals while Quentin played an acoustic guitar to accompany her.
Even though it was a little different from the pre-recorded version and she had to make adjustments, it worked beautifully.
Later that day, she’d practice other songs, especially the ones where she’d be playing guitar or a different instrument.
After going through the song twice, Quentin asked, “Ready?”
Even though she wanted to practice the song more, it could wait. “No. Uh…I wanted to talk to you about the meeting yesterday.”
“I thought you said you were organizing appearances and stuff. I told you I’ll be there for whatever you need.”
“Yeah, but…”. She grabbed a chair and sat down, waiting for him to join her.
Although he did sit close enough to her for them to communicate and he didn’t act like he wanted more space, there was no denying he was tense and he seemed distracted.
“Here’s the thing. They pushed me hard yesterday, asking me to really sell us as a couple, telling me to do things like ‘lean into it’ and ‘keep it going.’ What should we do? ”
Quentin just shook his head—telling her absolutely nothing.
But she’d thought about it. She was tired of playing games, because the distance it had caused between them was painful, and she loved Quentin for who he was, not who he could pretend to be for helping her career—and he needed to know that. “But I’m not going to do it anymore.”
“No?”
“No. I’m…going to sing at the awards show, and I’m going to give the best goddamned performance of my life—but I don’t want to be fake anymore in any way.”
Raising his eyebrows, Quentin asked, “You sure you want to take that chance?”
“Yes. I’ve given it a lot of thought, and that’s what I’m going to do.
I’m choosing you over the wishes of the men in control.
” And, she didn’t say it out loud, but she was choosing him even over her career.
He was that important to her, even where their relationship stood at the moment.
Quentin’s pupils dilated in his dark brown eyes and he took in a slow breath—but he said nothing.
“I still hope you’ll be there to perform the song with me.
Not to play my boyfriend, but as my friend. ”
Unlike a few days earlier when he’d promised to be there, he just nodded his head, but she could tell that something she’d said had shaken him.
It was too late to take it back, and she wouldn’t anyway.
Finally, he said, “Yeah, I’ll be there.” The words were right…
but he clenched his jaw as if refraining from saying more.
The way the silence filled that room as if it were an unseen gas filling the space, building pressure around them, made her doubt for just a moment.
No. He promised.
And she decided to believe him.