Play Smart: An Enemies to Lovers Rockstar Romantic Comedy (Work For It Book 5), page 23
“But what if people make fun of you and say mean things about you?”
“I’ll deal with it.” Like I have my entire life.
After another pause, her expression brightens and she throws her arms around me. “Oh my gosh, thank you! The truth is, I’ve been thinking about it too and I really wanted to do it. I just thought you didn’t. I’m so excited. It’s gonna be so great!”
Warmth spreads through me as she squeezes, and I return the embrace with my free hand. The other is still clutching a guitar that needs to be tuned in the next minute and a half.
“Let’s bring down the house,” I say with a smile.
Before we really take it down.
The producer must not be in on “track-gate” since she was fine adapting to the last-minute changes. I secure the guitar and monitor packs as we prepare to go live, and force a quick return smile to Larinda who’s beaming beside me.
With my IEMs shoved into my ears, I can’t hear the buzz of shocked murmurs around me, but I feel it in the sudden audience that’s gathered. It seems like every person who was dutifully working a second ago has suddenly been reassigned to watch me make a fool of myself on an international scale.
This is so not how I envisioned dipping a toe back into industry waters. Not that I ever intended to allow my toes anywhere near that shark-infested swamp, but if I had, it would’ve been a small show in an obscure town. Some dude named Rick would be playing drums and probably screwing up half the songs. His buddy Gil would be on bass messing up the other half.
This? Have I mentioned worst nightmares?
The prompt screen in front of us is counting down from twenty seconds and my heart is scrambling its way out of my chest. I force calming breaths to still my trembling hands. They’re shaking so badly I have no clue how I’ll be able to play a guitar. Forget what my voice will sound like when the lyrics come out—if they come out. The boom stand is the same model I have at home, which feels like the only familiar thing in my life right now.
Larinda shoots me a radiant grin when the countdown reaches one, and the click-track jumps to life in our ears to start the song.
Tick-tock-tock-tock.
Tick-tock-tock-tock.
Breathe, Nash. You can do this.
Can I?
My fingers are still shaking. My throat feels clamped shut.
What the hell are you doing?! Millions of people all over the world are literally staring at you, waiting for you to choke. You haven’t been tortured enough for one lifetime? You had to beg them to wreck you again? You’ll never recover from this. Tomorrow you will be the laughingstock of the world. Again.
My frantic gaze scans the room. So many faces. Most curious, some concerned, a few critical. And one confident.
Paige Andrews.
The woman who just weeks ago thought I was the biggest failure on the planet is now staring at me like I finally make sense to her. That this moment answers long-held questions, not raises them. She believes. I have no idea why, but she does, and I think back to what she said at Dino’s studio.
“Whenever you’re ready to try again, we will be here for the highest highs and the lowest lows.”
Lowest lows. There’s an eighty percent chance this moment is about to be one of those.
Yet, suddenly, my fingers feel a little stronger, my chest a little clearer. All the creativity that had drained from my head a moment ago comes flooding back in a rush of anticipation. I agreed to this for Larinda, but right here, right now, in the very last situation I ever thought I’d end up, I realize I’m doing it for me.
Because I’m “Nashville” Ellis and music is in my blood.
“Let the waves of darkness break, and take, the pain below, purged by the undertow…”
Screw you, haters. Time to dive in and bring this whole fucking house to its knees.
18—THWARTING
PAIGE
He’s magic.
I don’t realize I haven’t moved until I feel a sharp pinch in my back halfway through the song. Even then, I ignore it, afraid of any action that could disrupt this moment.
Nash claimed he was nervous when he went out there to rescue Larinda, but I never would have known. There was only the slightest delay before he started strumming the intro, but once he began, this stale lecture room became a world-class concert hall.
Even Larinda has come alive in a way I never expected. Given the over-the-top dramatics that define her shows, this authentic, stripped-back performance shows off a beautiful voice she deserves more credit for. She and Nash keep locking gazes and grinning through the lyrics like they’re having a blast, and honestly, so are we. Everyone seemed shocked when this song started. Now they seem sold.
And Nash. Geez. Talk about potential star power. The record label that passed on this guy must have been stupid. (Well, they signed Tyler, so I guess that tracks.) Either way, there’s no doubt in my mind Nash will be getting some serious attention after this, and not just the kind he’s fearing. I’m holding his phone for him and the thing keeps buzzing non-stop in my pocket.
But all that matters right now is Nash’s haunting voice, their stunning harmonies, and whatever witchcraft he has going on with that guitar because there’s no way all that sound is coming from one instrument. The guy is straight-up phenomenal, and there’s not a soul in this room that doesn’t recognize it. I’ve heard him play a few times now, but never when the stakes were so high. Heck, never when there were any stakes at all.
Nash said he was doing this so the media would attack him, not Larinda when shit hits the fan later today. This whole thing was an unapologetic sacrifice to save her from what he suspected was an attempt to hurt her. He truly believed he was marching to his execution when he walked out, that no matter how it went, good or bad, they were going to dig up the old crap and shred him all over again.
After what I just saw, “they” are also idiots.
As the song comes to a close, I’m confident I’m not the only one disappointed about trading the magic of this moment for boring coverage of cartoon good guys killing cartoon bad guys. Whatever think tank came up with this concept for a promotional event should be fired. Good thing the clock is ticking on the disaster now that Nash has accomplished his goal of saving Larinda. We’re probably doing Brighthouse a favor. The worse fate for them would be letting this thing run its course.
Nash is still grinning when he vacates the platform so they can transition to the next part of the program. Larinda blows him a kiss from her cloud of assistants touching up her appearance, and when he smiles back, so do I. Man, I love seeing him smile. That can’t be a good sign for a person trying to convince herself she’s not head over heels for this guy.
“That was amazing,” I say, drawing him in for a hug.
“Yeah?” His tone is shy as his arms tighten around me.
“Yeah. How did it feel?”
“Terrifying.” He releases a soft laugh. “Incredible. I missed this.”
“It missed you.”
He pulls back, and I reach up to touch his face. Beautiful blue eyes search mine, anxious, unsure, hopeful.
“I’m serious,” I say, running my thumb along the stubble on his jaw. “Anyone who doesn’t think you belong out there is an idiot and shouldn’t be allowed to think stuff.”
He shakes his head with another shy grin, and I can’t help it anymore. I pull him down and brush my lips over his. No acting. No strategic maneuver. No club-induced lust. Just a boy I have to kiss in this moment.
He deepens it, and my fingers slide into his hair to hold on. He’s always tasted like dessert. Right now he tastes like the bread that will keep me alive.
Very poetic, Paige. Perhaps a tad dramatic?
Fine. A tad. Point is, I’m definitely head over heels for this guy.
“Well-played.”
Nash straightens, and I follow his attention to the annoying voice that interrupted our sweet moment. A more annoying-looking man stands behind us with the ugliest belt purse I’ve ever seen dangling from his hand. Are those glitter-encrusted flamingos on the front?
“Hey, Steve,” Nash says, a stony expression settling over his features. I can tell by the way his body tenses as he separates from me that he’s not a huge fan of this person. Probably not the belt purse either, but I won’t commit to that. If anyone adored sparkling flamingos for some unknown reason, it would be Nash.
“And here I thought you were a scared little puppy who ran away with his tail between his legs,” the guy says. “I mean, you ran so fast you left your stuff behind.”
I determine his voice is annoying mainly because it says annoying things. I wonder if that’s Chad’s issue as well. It would be an interesting study.
“I didn’t run,” Nash says in a dark tone. “And thanks for taking my messages for me. I appreciate the administrative support.”
“Yes, well, your friend Chad seems cool.”
“You would think so.”
I force away a smile.
“Did you have an actual question or did you just need help putting that on?” Nash asks, waving at the flamingo pouch.
“No question. Just wanted to tell you to back off. Larinda is off limits. I’ve spent two years working for her and I’m not going to watch some conniving traitor use her for god knows what. I thought you were just another famewhore opportunist, but now I know it’s worse than that, isn’t it? Now I know who you really are and why you’re trying to weasel your way in.”
Nash goes pale. “Excuse me?”
“Cut the bullshit, rockstar. I talked to your handler Chad last night. I know who you are.”
“Handler? What’s he talking about?” someone asks.
We turn to see Larinda standing behind us, and I sense the life drain from Nash’s body. My heart breaks for him as his numb stare rests on the woman he just risked everything to help.
“Nash works for Sandeke Telecom,” Steve says with an air of victory that makes me want to punch him—another Chad-trait this guy possesses. Maybe every industry has a “Chad.”
“He’s only pretending to be your friend, Larinda. None of this is real.”
Oh no.
Nash looks like he’s going to be sick as Larinda’s expression wilts.
“That can’t be true. You don’t actually work for Sandeke Telecom, right?” Her lip is already quivering.
My friend blinks at her, his mouth opening to respond but nothing comes out.
“Nash?” She swats at her eyes.
“I…”
“It’s true?!” she cries.
“Larinda, please. It’s not—”
“You monster! How could you do this to me?!”
“I didn’t—”
“I told you he was scum. I warned you there was something off about him.”
Oh god. I can’t watch this. It’s not fair. It’s not right.
“I trusted you!”
“Larinda, please—”
“I can’t even look at you.”
“I didn’t—”
“Shut up. I think she’s heard enough from you.”
“I thought you were different. You’re just as bad as everyone else!”
“He’s worse. He’s a liar and a fraud!”
I have to stop this. But how?
I don’t have a plan, but I’ve let too many people I care about get hurt with my indecision and fear of the unknown. Nash is the one who stood up to my parents when they went after Val. Nash is the one who gave my brother opportunities and reasons to believe in himself. Nash is the one who was brave enough to go against two mega-corporations. And what have I done to help anyone but myself?
Time after time I’ve sat back when I should have fought, not because I was being responsible and waiting for the right moment, but because I was scared. I gave him hell for being afraid to put himself out there, but I’m the one who needed that scolding. I’m the one who’s never taken a damn risk in my life because I’m too afraid to fail.
And now I’m standing here like a coward, watching a hero get pummeled. He’s the reason Larinda will look like a genius instead of an idiot when the video of her song goes viral and he can’t do anything except duck his head and accept the onslaught.
Step up, Paige. Take a stand for the first time in your sheltered life!
“They didn’t give him a choice,” I blurt out.
The verbal assault stops as three sets of eyes shoot to me.
I take a deep breath and force myself to continue. “They didn’t give him a choice but it didn’t matter anyway. He stopped helping them almost immediately after he started and has done everything he can to protect you from them. I’m the one here on their behalf. I’m the only spy.”
It’s kind of the truth, really. There’s no doubt in my mind that Nash had no intention of hurting anyone except the monsters who started this whole mess.
“They wanted to ruin you, but he wouldn’t let them,” I continue when I spot the seeds of doubt poking through her anger. “He just threw himself to the wolves for you, Larinda. Do you have any idea how hard that was for him? He hasn’t performed in years after what your industry did to him, and he was willing to face his worst fears for you. To save you.”
Nash meets my gaze, and the mix of pain and gratitude in those pretty blue eyes almost hurts to confront. I’d look away if I could but he’s the only thing I want to see.
“You weren’t wrong about him. He’s special,” I say quietly, searching his eyes. I feel the shift in the others and swallow the ache in my heart. “Yes, there was more to the story than what you knew, but he never lied to you about who he is as a person. He is the person you love.”
No one seems to know what to say when I finish my speech. Even Flamingo Steve is silent and staring at his shoes.
“How were they going to ruin me?” Larinda asks, focusing on Nash.
His gaze crosses to her, and maybe there’s a shred of hope in his expression.
“I don’t know for sure,” he says. “But you have a leak in your inner circle. Someone told Sandeke about the sequins and changing the song. I think they were setting you up to use the track, probably so they could…” He quiets and clears his throat.
“So they could do a repeat of Lip-Gate,” she finishes in a dark tone. “I never would have lived down another lip-syncing disaster.”
“All they had to do was include your original vocal track and it would’ve been Kansas City all over again,” he says. “It would have thrown you off so much you wouldn’t have had a chance to fake it and cover it up.”
She shakes her head, looking very distraught. “But who would do that? And why?”
“Who would have known about the sequins? Who pressured you to use a track?”
Their gazes snap to Flamingo Pouch who has gotten very pale.
“Larinda, please. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know! I swear! I mean. I knew, but… it was Jarvis!”
Whoa.
Also, this dude’s spy game is fucking weak if a nasty look is all it takes to break him.
“Jarvis? What are you talking about?” she asks.
“He must have been the one who told Sandeke about the song and tried to set you up. You told me to call him about scheduling dinner tonight—”
“Shh,” Larinda hisses. “No one is supposed to know we’re together.”
Yeah, pretty sure the cat isn’t just out of the bag on that, but now jumping on the bag and waking the entire neighborhood.
“It’s true,” Steve continues. “I told him about the dress thing and he said not to worry about it. It was his idea to use a track. He even said he’d take care of the logistics. He’s your boyfriend! Of course I trusted him.”
Wow. I actually kind of hope this dude is lying about Jarvis because that? Is cold.
Tears gather in Larinda’s eyes. “No. No, I don’t believe you. He wouldn’t do that. He loves me!”
“He loves himself and his career more,” Steve says. “I’m not sure what his plan was, but there are a million things that could benefit him if you crashed and burned today. Larry, sweetie, I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have told him a damn thing if I’d known he was going to betray you. I didn’t realize until just now what happened.” He studies Nash, something akin to regret washing over his face. “Thanks, man. You, uh… thanks for protecting her.”
Larinda bursts into tears.
“Larinda, hey—” the guy says.
“Don’t touch me!” She yanks her arm away. “Don’t even talk to me! You’re fired! Everyone is fired! The entire world is fired! You! And you! And you!” she shrieks as she storms off the set.
“Hey! Where’s she going?!” the producer cries. “We’re back in two minutes!”
Nash starts after Larinda, then pauses when he sees me.
“Go fix things with her,” I say. “I’ll take care of the rest.”
“But we still have to take these cheaters down.”
“Yep. I’m on it.”
He squints at me. “Really? You live for this corporate crap.”
“I live for making the world a better place. There’s no room for people who are making it worse.”
His smile is all the encouragement I need. “Finally. Something we can agree on.”
“Exactly,” I say with a grin. “And right now, I live for breaking shit.”
My idea comes quick and fast. I don’t know why we didn’t think of this before, maybe because we were thinking too small. We were sent in to ruin the gaming event (and Larinda, apparently), but what we really should have been scheming was how to ruin Brighthouse and Sandeke Telecom, like Marcos and Eva wanted to do all along.
While Nash tracks down Larinda to talk her off the ledge, I pull out my phone and dial Eva. She answers on the second ring, and I’m even more relieved when she tells me Marcos is there.
“We’re watching the broadcast,” Marcos says. “Nash killed it on that song! How the hell did you get him to perform?”
“Long story. Things have gone a little haywire. I’ll explain later. For now, I have an idea of how to hurt both corporations but I’ll need your help.”
