Chapter 7 #2
“So, Tinsley, you know I have to ask, how are things going with you and Roman Cash? You two blew us out of the water last summer with your whirlwind romance, and we have been here for all of it ever since. He is so hot—I don’t know how you stand it!
” The bubbly DJ gushes over the phone, and I’m glad she can’t see my face as I roll my eyes at Allie, who is trying not to laugh at my expression.
“Roman and I are great, both super busy with our tours and careers, but we both know what’s important and that makes all the difference.” My stomach twists as I lie through my teeth.
I hate that I have to lie to my fans every single day.
Roman Cash is a lot of things. He initially found success in the pop-punk rock scene, dominating the charts for a few years, until a couple of years ago when he crossed over successfully into mainstream pop, and even country with a few key collaborations.
Musically, he’s a superstar with the golden touch.
Artists love to do collaborations with him because they are instant hits, and his concerts always sell out.
He’s beautiful with a radiant smile, chiseled cheekbones, and black hair that seems to look good whether he has it in a buzz cut or grows it out long enough to put in a man bun.
But eighteen months ago, his partying got out of control, and Roman had an epic meltdown outside a bar—which of course was all caught on security cameras.
It was like someone challenged him to burn down his entire life in one single evening and he said, “Hold my beer.” After getting kicked out of a bar in downtown Nashville for belligerent behavior, he got in a physical fight with some fans who wanted a photo with him, and was caught on camera using racial slurs, in addition to shoving two women out of his way as he left the scene of the incident.
His public relations team went into overdrive with Roman issuing apologies, attending rehab, making donations to relevant nonprofits, and multiple other efforts to redeem his repulsive actions.
One of those tactics was to have a relationship with someone that could help his image, and of course, slimeball Rick agreed to the terms before I was even aware of the idea.
If I had been able to spend five minutes with Roman one-on-one, I never would’ve agreed to the two-year contract Rick forced me to sign that resulted in Roman and I having a public on-again-off-again relationship for twenty-four months starting the date the ink dried.
Rick saw the opportunity to expand my fan base and thought the exposure would be beneficial for my career, as well as put him in a favorable political position with a few music executives that were trying to save their golden goose’s image.
Roman may be beautiful, musically talented, and extremely popular, but he is an absolutely disgusting person.
It makes sense why Rick likes him so much.
I’m already counting down the days until this is over, and I still have an entire year to go until we release our joint statement announcing our mutual breakup and wishing each other the best.
“You guys are just so cute together! I think some of us were surprised when Roman started dating you.” Wait …
what? Why did that just sound like Roman was slumming it to date me?
I scrunch my eyebrows and look at Allie who shakes her head as she scowls at the phone.
She hates Roman just as much as I do. “But it’s so nice to know that guys like Roman Cash would date someone like you.
” I cock my head as I try and find a non-offensive way to interpret that statement.
Girls like me?
Girls that are a multi-platinum award winning artist? No, that doesn’t seem to fit.
Girls that are a size fourteen—okay, closer to a sixteen around my period—with an ass and a killer rack?
Or maybe girls like me who didn’t go to college?
Nope, there isn’t a way to take that and not be offended.
I look up to Allie, and she has gone from scowling to straight up pissed off.
She will cut this interview the second our time is up.
Clueless to my offense, the DJ pushes on in a breathy voice, “What’s something that would surprise your fans to learn about your relationship, or like, something that Roman does that makes you just swoon over the guy?” Yeah, as though I’m going to tell her something that’s actually private.
“You know, I don’t know if it’s that surprising, but we’re just normal people and our favorite thing to do is to stay in.
” Away from cameras that could catch on that I hate the man.
“We love our fans, of course, but there’s something about just having a quiet night at home with your significant other, cooking dinner together, and slow dancing in your kitchen. ”
Roman and I have never slow danced. The only kiss or physical affection we’ve shown has been shoved down my throat in public settings.
One time, he copped a feel, and I told him if he ever intentionally touched my boobs without permission or an invitation, I would remove at least one of his balls from his body.
He keeps his hands to himself now, so he isn’t a complete moron.
“Of course, privacy is so important, especially for two big names like you guys. Do you have plans to do anything special this summer together? We know that Roman is playing in the upcoming Music Fest in Nashville, and you’re going to be in town, so can we expect to see you join him, maybe on stage?
” She draws out the word stage like she’s talking about a schoolboy crush.
There is no world where I would ever collaborate on a song with that man after seeing who he really is.
“That would be so fun! I’m not sure if my touring schedule will allow for that, but I will definitely let you guys know on my socials if that’s something we can swing.”
Allie rolls her eyes and gives me a thumbs down. Checking her watch, she holds up two fingers, letting me know I’m almost free from this interview.
“The chemistry between you two is just off the charts. I think you two would dominate whatever you could do together. If what we see is any indication, the chemistry behind closed doors has to require a flammable warning!” She giggles.
I gag.