Face The Music Read online

  “Whoa.” The syllable was barely audible as it escaped my lips. This was no ordinary man, not by any woman’s standards. Graced with broad, confident shoulders, strong arms and chest, his face was one that I could very easily lose myself in.

  In the spirit of Johnny Cash, Chris was dressed in all black, but the look was personalized with a studded belt and a long, silver chain. Throwing an intense stare out into the audience, he gripped the microphone between both hands and in a soft and deep voice, began the first verse.

  The camera circled as he sang. I was mesmerized, unable to pull my attention away from the TV screen. Everything from his dark, chocolate brown eyes to his thick, brooding eyebrows drew me in. A thin, perfectly angled beard shaped the frame of his square jaw, contrasting his smooth, clean-shaven head.

  Though the lyrics hadn’t been changed, the music was completely different from the original version. Chris had transformed it into something much more contemporary. Featuring electric guitars and drum solos, I wondered what Mr. Cash would think of the remake.

  Strobe lights flashed as the music quickened. Chris licked his lips, took another deep breath, and began the chorus. His voice, now quite loud, had a gritty, gravelly edge to it.

  Time stopped for those two minutes. Cheers and screams could be heard throughout the entire performance, but after he finished, the audience simply went wild.

  The lights came back on as the camera pulled away, releasing me from my trance. I took a deep breath and looked around my cluttered living room as I tried to reclaim control over my pounding pulse.

  The camera settled back on him as he stood before the judges. His chest heaved while he worked to catch his breath, and his dark eyes sparkled with excitement. Sweat glistened on his forehead, and he reached up to wipe his brow with the back of one hand. After some time, the audience quieted down enough to let the first judge speak.

  Eddie Ortega, a short, skinny Hispanic man who ran a large radio network, was almost as entertaining as the performers. “Chrisss,” he said, dragging out the syllable with his heavy Spanish accent. He brought his elbows together on the tabletop and cocked his head in his hands. “That was, without a doubt, the best performance of the night.”

  The crowd roared their approval, and he waited for them to quiet down before continuing. “You aren’t afraid to push your limits. You know your boundaries well and took this performance right to the edge.” He walked his first two fingers to the side of the table, as if illustrating his comment. “Simply amazing! I’m in love with you already.”

  Eddie winked, and Chris wasn’t successful in hiding a look of bewilderment. “Um, thanks?” He clasped his hands behind his back and turned to the second judge.

  Lucy was a senior editor for Billboard Magazine. A woman of Asian descent with long, silky black hair, she gave Eddie an annoyed look. “Would you stop it? We’re here to judge. Flirt on your own time.” She turned to Chris. “Just ignore him. The rest of us do.”

  Eddie sat back in his chair, a pout on his lips. “You just suck the love right of everything, don’t you?”

  Lucy didn’t respond. Instead, she reached back, gathered her hair, and pulled it over one of her shoulders. “You passed the chill test,” she said.

  Chris stood there, looking confused.

  She laughed. “You gave me goosebumps!” she said, holding out her arm. “You really have a strong stage presence, Chris.” Screams from the audience made her pause. “Your ability to excite the room is that of a well-seasoned professional. I think you’ll go far in this competition.”

  Chris bowed his head. “Thanks.”

  “Oh no, thank you!”

  Stella’s comments were usually direct, even rude at times, and everyone was silent as the producer for MTV gathered her thoughts. She stared at Chris over the thick frame of her black cat-eye glasses. Her curly red hair was secured in a clip on the back of her head, though some frizzy tendrils had escaped and framed her face.

  “You have a raw, natural talent,” she finally said, her voice deep and rough like that of a heavy smoker. “You’re really quite good.”

  The audience applauded.

  “However,” she interjected, raising her voice and straightening up in her chair. “I’m just not sure you’re as good as you think you are.”

  People booed. Chris pressed his lips together into a tight line and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

  “Come on,” Eddie complained, leaning over the table to glare at her. “He was incredible. You don’t have to abhor everyone.”

  “I don’t ‘abhor’ him,” she said, casting a sharp glance at Eddie. “I just think he needs to be more emotionally connected to his songs.” She raised a penciled eyebrow and returned her stare to Chris. “You have the voice, and you’ve certainly got the look. But you lack the passion.” She paused. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

  The pre-recorded anthem of the show blared, indicating it was time to wrap things up. Bradley joined Chris on the stage. “So Chris, this talk about passion, what do you think? Are you lacking in that department?”

  Chris narrowed his eyes and ran a finger across his bottom lip. “Me, personally? Hell, no.” He laughed and winked at Stella, who shifted in her seat. “My music? Maybe.”

  My skin tingled as he flashed a stunning, heart-stopping smile into the camera. From that moment forward, I was no longer in control. I was addicted.

  ***

  A familiar whistle brought me out of my trance. I blinked a few times and looked up when Jake came in the room.

  “Hey ya, gorgeous! How’s my favorite blue-eyed gal?” Jake was Sam’s older brother. He was also a genius when it came to technical stuff. He was offered his job here before Sam had even auditioned. Word around the studio was that Sam only got on the show because of Jake, but I didn’t agree. Sam was full of talent.

  He propped his foot up on one of the chairs and brushed his blonde hair out of his eyes, flashing me the same crooked grin I had seen on Sam just minutes before. Like his brother, Jake fit the California stereotype to a T. He was tan, slender, and quite the ladies man. At the age of twenty-six Jake had a more solid build than Sam, but the two brothers truly resembled each other.

  “Hi!” I flashed him a grin. “Tell me, how are you holding up? Is this cold weather killing you yet?” The frigid Chicago February had to be a shock compared to the warm, sunny climate of Los Angeles.

  “Nah, it’s not so bad. Whenever I need warming up, I come find you, babe.” He walked over to my desk, stood behind me, and pressed his strong fingers into the space between my shoulder blades. I felt his warm breath on my neck as he leaned forward and whispered, “Got plans tonight? We could pick up where we left off.”

  Jake was a good guy. A bit of a player, but his heart was in the right place. We went out a few times at the start of the season, but it was never anything serious. Our friendship was strong, though, and I trusted him and enjoyed his company.

  One night last week we ended up in his hotel room. He’d rented a movie, and I was actually quite interested to watch it, but the bottle of wine we shared over pizza had gone straight to my head. Things had almost gone too far. Lucky for me, Emily called. She needed me to stop by the store and pick up some children’s Tylenol on my way home because Molly was running a fever. Needless to say, I wasted no time in gathering my things and heading out.

  I couldn’t see us ever getting serious about each other. But then again, I couldn’t see Jake getting serious about anyone. I was really glad that I hadn’t made the mistake of becoming another notch on his bedpost. Since then I had been trying to keep things casual between us. I didn’t want to jeopardize our friendship by making it something more than it really was.

  Yet, despite my best efforts to keep it cool, his intentions were all too clear. His hands were inching down my back. I was uncomfortable and about to tell him to stop when Sam walked in. Chris was three steps behind him.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt
,” Sam said, grinning when he saw us. “I forgot my keys.”

  I wriggled free of Jake’s grip. “You didn’t interrupt anything.”

  Sam looked back and forth between the two of us. “Uh-huh, sure.” He pulled a chair back and got on his hands and knees to search under a table.

  “I’m busy tonight,” I said to Jake. “I’m at the university ‘til five, and then I’ll watch Molly while Emily’s at work. You can come over and hang out with us if you want. We’ll probably have hot dogs and watch Cinderella.” Hopefully the idea of spending the evening with a four-year-old would put a kink into whatever romantic schemes he had going.

  I watched Sam rummage around the floor. Chris leaned an elbow against the wall, the threads of his T-shirt straining against his thick bicep. I couldn’t tell if he was listening to me and Jake or not.

  “Got it,” Sam said, holding up a silver keychain. “See ya, Jake. Miss Banks.” He waved over his shoulder.

  Jake was still looking at me. “You have such a crazy schedule,” he said. “I can’t ever keep up. Rain check on the hot dogs though, okay? I think I’ll call a few of the guys and see if they want to hit the clubs tonight.”

  I lifted my shoulders in a half-shrug and tried to look disappointed. “Your loss.” I was actually glad he was going out. With any luck he would find someone willing to fulfill his carnal needs and take that attention away from me. “Well, I need to get going, so if I don’t see you later, have fun tonight!”

  He was quiet as I gathered up my things. The way he looked at me made me uneasy. His eyes were glued to my face, but he was miles away.

  “Everything okay, Jake?”

  His brows inched towards his hairline as he came back down to Earth. “Yeah. Why?”

  ***

  Thursday afternoon Chris showed up during the last few minutes of class and hung out in my doorway. I didn’t understand why- he knew I didn’t release the kids until twelve. He left again with Sam, except this time he didn’t even acknowledge me.

  A sting of disappointment reached my cheeks. Sure, he was on his way to a life of fame and fortune, and I was only the hired help, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t at least say hello. And what was up with him hanging around Sam, anyway? He had ten years on the kid.

  I sighed, resigned. At least I hadn’t been laughed at again.

  I was glad when he didn’t show up on Friday.

  After the kids left for lunch, I filled my arms with books and folders, preparing to head home. Clutching everything with one hand while using the other to dig in my pocket for keys, I lost my battle with gravity and dropped everything.

  “Dammit!” Papers scattered across the white tile of the hallway.

  I heard a laugh and looked up to see Chris heading in my direction. “Looks like you could use a book bag.”

  “Thank you, Captain Obvious,” I muttered to myself. My last one had fallen apart in the washing machine. I hadn’t had a chance to replace it.

  If he heard the comment, he showed no indication. Surprising me, he knelt down and gathered some of my papers. “I hope these weren’t in any kind of order.”

  I looked at them hopelessly. “Well they sure aren’t anymore.”

  He reached past me and picked up two books, giving me a whiff of his cologne. It was musky, smelling of sandalwood and amber, and I inhaled deeply as he studied the cover of a tattered copy of Persuasion.

  “Jane Austen fan?”

  “Yeah, she’s my favorite.” I took another deep breath, enjoying the effect his smell had on my olfactory nerves.

  “My sister is a big fan of hers, too.” He stared at the other heavy, hardbound book and slowly read the title, “Recombinant DNA Technology- Bioinformatics and Applications.” The corners of his lips folded down. “You read this for pleasure?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “That one’s not such a page turner. It’s for a class.” I described my university life- I worked at the school Tuesday and Thursday afternoons and took a graduate class every Wednesday night until ten.

  “Wow, you’ve got a lot going on.”

  “I stay busy,” I agreed as he handed me the last of the papers. “Thank you.”

  He smiled, stood, and dusted off his pants. “Okay. Looks like you’re good to…” His voice trailed off when our eyes met. He dropped his gaze and cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll see you later.”

  He took a few steps backwards then turned on his heel and walked off.

  Chris Knots, I thought to myself, keenly aware of the considerable attraction I felt towards him. Nothing but trouble, an unnecessary complication. I already had a hard enough time staying focused on what really mattered; I certainly didn’t need him getting in the way.

  Chapter 3

  February thirteenth was Emily’s twenty-first birthday. It fell on a Saturday, and she took the night off from her waitressing job so we could go out and celebrate. Mrs. Johnson, a widow who lived across the hall, absolutely adored Molly and volunteered to take her for the night.

  Emily wanted to go to Maury’s. It was an upscale Chicago club- complete with a thick, green velvet rope and a massive doorman blocking the entrance. The only people he allowed through were dressed like celebrities. I didn’t think my ten dollar clearance-rack heels from Target would quite make the cut.

  “What makes you think we’ll get in?”

  Emily gave me a reassuring pat. “Don’t worry, I know a guy.”

  I could feel my eyes begin to narrow. “A guy?”

  “Yes, Allie. A guy. You know, someone of the male species? You should try it sometime. Don’t give me that look!” she said when I wrinkled my nose. “I waited on him yesterday at lunch. We got to talking, and he asked if I’d ever been to the club. He’s working the front door tonight and said he could get us in.”

  “Really? But what if-.”

  “Would you stop worrying? Everything will be fine, trust me!”

  I wasn’t so sure.

  “You remind me of Mom,” she continued. “She was always so uptight about everything. Loosen up and live a little, let’s have some fun tonight!”

  Emily must have seen me flinch. It had been almost three years since Mom’s accident, and while I did my best to cope, her death had left an emptiness that couldn’t be filled.

  She linked her fingers between mine. “Sorry. I miss her too. I was just trying to say-”

  “No, it’s okay,” I said, squeezing her hand. “You’re right; I promise to try and have a good time tonight.”

  She planted a kiss on my hand and then trotted right up to the doorman. Flashing him a bright smile, she tossed her hair over her shoulder and batted her eyelashes. It never ceased to amaze me that we were sisters. We were so opposite.

  “John, hi! Remember me?” she said, brushing a polished fingernail down his forearm. “You said you could get us in tonight, so here we are!”

  “Emily!” he said, pulling her into a tight hug. He wasn’t discrete about sliding his hand down over her backside. Emily sure knew how to pick winners.

  “This is my sister, Allie,” she giggled, yanking on my arm.

  He said hello but didn’t take his eyes off her. It used to bother me that Emily always got the attention when it came to guys, but anymore I just expected it. Her long, strawberry blonde hair fell past her shoulders, and her soft brown eyes were always smiling. Her outgoing, bubbly personality made up for her petite frame, and she was the queen of vogue, always dressing according to the latest style. I often told her that she should go to fashion school. She could take random pieces of clothing and put them together to create any look she wanted.

  I, on the other hand, was lucky to find a pair of matching socks. My fair skin was sensitive, so I wore very little makeup and was all thumbs when it came to styling my own hair. Hence the frequency of the knot. Emily was well aware of my incompetencies and had therefore insisted on dressing me tonight. According to her, the coppery colored eye shadow she used made my blue eyes pop- she actually made that sound with her
lips when she told me so, and with the aid of a small barrel curling iron, she spiraled my auburn hair into an explosion of tight, bouncy ringlets. I wore a pair of snug black pants that hugged my butt a little too tightly, a slinky silver tank, and a red, low-cut, wrap-around sweater. My only contributions to the outfit were the ten dollar heels and a pair of cheap chandelier earrings.

  John pulled back the rope and gestured for us to go in. “Ladies, have a good time!” He lowered his voice and nudged Emily. “Call me.”

  We stepped into a narrow, dimly lit entryway. The muted bass coming from the club vibrated through the walls. A second, larger door opened up to the main area. Deafening music thumped out of enormous speakers while colored lights bounced around the room. Tall round tables were set up around a crowded dance floor.

  Emily grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the bar. “Come on, let’s get a drink. What do you want?”

  “Bacardi and pineapple juice.” She lifted her eyebrows; I wasn’t normally one to drink hard liquor. “What?” I said defensively, grinning. “You told me to loosen up and have a good time tonight, right?”

  “I did,” she said, still eying me doubtfully. “Just don’t make me regret it. I don’t want to have to carry you out of here.”

  She ordered a wine cooler, and we walked around and searched for an open table. “This is something, huh?”

  Her energy was contagious, and I couldn’t help but smile. “It sure is! I have to admit, I wasn’t too sure about this place, but this is going to be a great night.” I tipped my glass to her, and we both giggled. “Happy Birthday, Emily!”

  “Cheers to that!”

  We sat down at a small table in the back corner of the room. The dance floor was packed. Several clusters of people were dancing to the fast-paced remix, and a crowd of onlookers stood nearby. “Wanna dance?” I asked, swallowing the rest of my drink.

  I stood briefly but fell back onto my stool when I saw Chris Knots leaning over a large table with others from the show. A tall blonde with legs up to her neck was pressing herself against him. Cynthia, one of the other Superstardom contestants. I watched in amazement as she whispered something into his ear and snaked a seductive finger down his arm. I wondered if they were an item.