Playing it Kale (The McCain Saga Book 4) (17 page)

CHAPTER
FOURTEEN

“It’s rumored that you two met at a
wedding,” the reporter says.
 
“Is that
true?”

Kale and I sit side by side, my hand in
his, on the loveseat in the studio.
 
We
finished the photo shoot this morning.
 
We
were, of course, decked out in
Your
Fantasy
clothes.
 
They did it down at
one of the marinas, giant boats, trees, the mountains in the background.
 
The photographer said he was trying to
capture our similar pasts, both kids from Washington who went on to gain
fame.
 
I felt awkward most of the time,
trying to look pretty and serious, and in love, while Kale is the world expert
at looking amazing in front of the camera.

Instead, we went for more candid
shots.
 
Kale kept me laughing half the
time.
 
The other half, he’d grab me
close, put his forehead to mine, and stare at me like he could see into my
soul.
 
It wasn’t hard to look like I
thought the moon and stars of him then.
 
This was Kale.
 
And
me.
 
And he is everything I want.

We were both surprised that morning,
though, by being told that one of the entertainment news channels was sending a
film crew to do an interview with us.
 
They were putting together a huge twenty minute special on us, and we
were to “give them everything they needed.”

“Yeah,” Kale says, looking over at
me.
 
“It is true.
 
It was actually my brother’s wedding.”

He pauses, and half a beat too late to
flow naturally, I realize he’s encouraging me to talk as well.
 
“Um, yeah, my friend asked me to fill in for
their lead singer who was sick.
 
With uh,
a bribe, she got me to do it.”

“Why were you hesitant to agree?” the
female reporter asks.

I look at Kale, not exactly wanting to
admit the truth.
 
But there his words are
again in my head.
 
Just give them the real you.
 
He squeezes my hand, as if he can read my mind.
 
He’s really good at that.

“I have really bad stage fright,” I
admit, looking the reporter right in the eye and giving a laugh.
 
“Like, seriously.
 
I was terrified to go up on that stage.”

“You must have gotten over it,” she
laughs along with us.
 
“Everyone who was
at the wedding said you did amazing.
 
And
that video of you that went viral.
 
I
have to say, it’s impressive.”

“Thanks,” I say, unsure how to handle
the compliments that keep coming my way lately.

“Now, Kale,” she says, turning her
attention back to him.
 
“You’ve been
known to date celebrities and other models.
 
The world watched you and Angelique Harris for five months.
 
Whitney here was a complete unknown when you
met
her,
she’s gained her fame because of you.
 
Was it the fact that she was so different
from you that drew her to you?”

I.
 
Hate.
 
This.
 
These questions.
 
People making assumptions.
 
Every bit of it.

I catch a flash of anger on Kale’s face
and he squeezes my hand harder.
 
“I was
attracted to Whitney
cause
she was the most real and
honest person I’ve met in ages.
 
People
make assumptions and try to tell you how things are
cause
they think they know you.
 
But truth of
it is, I just fell in love with Whitney
cause
she was,
and is, exactly everything I need in my life.”

The reporter sits there for an
uncomfortable beat.
 
“Okay, well, thank
you for being with us today.
 
Whitney, we
look forward to the release of your new album.
 
And Kale, we wish you continued success with your astonishing career.”
 
She turns to the camera.
 
“Until next time.”

“And cut,” a producer says.
 
“That should do us.”

Everyone whips into a flurry.
 
Calvin is all up in Kale’s face, analyzing
the shoot and how he looked on camera.
 
Calvin’s eyes keep darting to me, and there’s dissatisfaction on his
face.

But there’s Hadley and she is all
smiles.
 
“You did great.”

“I didn’t look like an uncomfortable
idiot?” I ask, still watching Kale.
 
But
he’s all business.
 
He’s in his zone.

“You did look uncomfortable, but it was
in no way a bad thing,” she says as we walk back to the costume
department.
 
People are already ripping
my clothes off, changing me.
 
It’s
weird.
 
“Everyone knows you were just
thrust into all this and you seeming like you don’t quite know what you’re
doing just
makes
it seem all the more genuine.
 
It makes you relatable.
 
Normal, everyday girls are going to love
it.
 
That’s what you are, Whitney—lovable.”

“If you say so,” I say as someone hands
me a shirt to pull back on over my bra.
 
There are so many people around.
 
Men, women, assistants, camera people.
 
Producers.
 
Tony.
 
And they’re all
acting
like it’s nothing for me
to be standing here half naked.

Big deal to
me
.

“Could you please bring that divider
over here?” Hadley says with an annoyed tone to an assistant.
 
“Can’t you see the poor girl
isn’t loving
everyone being around when she’s in just her underwear?”
 
And I’m instantly reminded of why I picked
her in the first place.

The assistant gets wide, scared eyes at
Hadley’s harsh, demanding tone, but he scuttles off and brings it over.

“Thank you,” I say as I pull on the
skinny jeans that are given to me.

“No problem, love,” Hadley smiles.
 
Something dings on her phone, and she checks
it.
 
“Okay, our flight is ready, so we
better get moving.”

Just then as I’m pulling my pants up
over my rear end, Kale rounds the corner.
 
His eyes immediately flash to my unbuttoned pants.
 
Instead of seeing just heat there, he looks
around as if to make sure no one else is getting the same show he is.
 
He looks possessive.
 
“What the hell?” he yells out at no one in
particular.
 
“You can’t just make her
change out in front of the whole damn world!
 
Give her some privacy!”

My face warms and my heart
flutters.
 
Kale can be so sweet, in his
own cocky, overly confident, Kale-
ish
way.
 
Eyes from the crowd around us dart away, and
one girl gives a little laugh.
 
I kind of
want to smack her.

“Sorry about all that,” Kale says,
pulling me close once I’m fully dressed.
 
“Journalists are the worst.
 
They
use cheap tactics to try and get you to say the wrong thing, just looking for a
headline.
 
And next time I’ll make them
get you a dressing room, ‘k?”

“’K,” I say, resting my forehead against
his.
 
I close my eyes and try to calm the
nervous fire ants that are marching through my veins right now.
 
“Thank you.”

“This is sweet and all, but we’ve got a
plane to catch,” Hadley says as she actually pulls us apart and tosses me my
sandals.
 
“Let’s move people!”

And off we go, back to LA, and to the
wolves.

CHAPTER
FIFTEEN

“Wait, wait,” I say as I pull my
headphones off.
 
“That’s supposed to go
A, G, A, A.”

“It sounds more radio-playable this
way,” Matt says.
 

“But that’s not the way I wrote it,” I
say timidly.
 
I don’t know my boundaries
or place yet.
 
How much can I demand, and
how much do I have to bend to their will.

“How about we record it both ways, and
then we’ll see what everyone says?” Matt offers mercifully.
 
But I have a feeling he’s just humoring me.

“Fine,” I say.

I’m tired.
 
It’s been a long day.
 
I haven’t gotten any lunch or dinner.
 
And I haven’t seen Kale for more than a few
minutes at a time the past eight days.
 
It’s been constant work.

We’ve finished recording “Just a Girl Named
Whitney,” “Distance,” and “Glow.”
 
Today
we’re working on “Pay Me
In
Rainbows and Love.”

I put my headphones back on, and I sing
like a good girl.

When we’re done that day, I’m whisked
into meetings with Hadley and the managers at Elysium.
 
They’ve booked an exclusive, invitation only
show for two weeks from today.
 
There
will be eight hundred people invited, plus the press.
 
They’ll make video promos that will be used
in music
videos,
it’ll be on the news.
 
Reviews will be going up.
 
The same night, my very first, full length
album will be up for pre-sale, and “Angel
On
Your Shoulder”
will release.

One week after the album goes for sale
at the beginning of November, I’ll leave on tour.
 
An initial six weeks.
 
And if things go well, if the shows sell out,
and the album does well, we’ll immediately start recording a second album.

The studio is already asking for another
set of twelve songs and at least two bonus tracks for that.

I can barely wrap my head around this
first, much less think about the second.

But
they
want a second.

Every day, I just marvel at how lucky I
am.
 
So many people try so hard for so
long to break into this industry.
 
And it
just happened for me.

I can only be overwhelmed, but grateful.

On Monday, Hadley wakes me up with a
phone call.

“The single is done,” she says
excitedly.
 
“Elysium wants you to come in
and have a listen to it.”

“It’s done-done?” I ask as I sit up and
rub at one eye.
 
I don’t get far
up,
Kale’s arm is flopped over my stomach.

“Yep, they said it should be up for
pre-order any second now.
 
Get your
skinny little ass down here.”
 
She gives
an excited little squeal and hangs up.

“What’s going on?” Kale asks
groggily.
 
He’s lying on his stomach, so
his face is half buried in his pillow.
 
I’m not sure how he can breathe.

“‘Angel’ is done,” I say, lying back
down and snuggling myself into his side.
 
“I’m supposed to head into the studio and listen to it.
 
Wanna
come with
me?”

Kale opens his eyes fully and reaches
out to brush his fingertips over my cheek.
 
“Of course.”

“I mean,” I say as I place my hand over
his and trap his fingers there.
 
“It is
your song, so it should have your approval.”

He smiles.
 
“If it came out of your mouth, it’s
perfect.”
 
He then rolls away from me and
pulls something out of the night stand.

When he rolls back toward me, he’s
holding a long black box.
 
He’s got this
slightly nervous look on his face, like he wasn’t sure if he should do this or
not.
 
“Happy one month
anniversary.”

“What?” I say breathily.
 
“It’s been a month?
 
And you remembered?”

“Of course,” he chuckles.
 
“August nineteenth will always be the day my
life forever changed.”
 
He says it
dramatically, but also with sincerity.
 

I open the box and find something that
makes the back of my eyes sting.

It’s a necklace.
 
Beautiful white gold.
 
There’s a locket in the middle of the
box.
 
But the traditional heart is formed
by two angel wings folding into each other.
 
I carefully pull it open.
 
On one
side is a selfie I took of the two of us.
 
It’s not great, and there’s too much sun behind us so it’s terribly
bright, but we’re kissing, looking so happy.
 
It actually turned out accidentally beautiful.

The other picture is one from the photo
shoot.
 
It’s our hands together.
 
Fingers locked tight.
 
Somehow, the photographer managed to capture
the nervousness I was feeling in my hands.
 
But Kale’s, so strong and confident, hold mine, just like he holds me
every night, telling me that everything will be okay and that I can do this.

“Kale,” I breathe.
 
“This is…this is amazing.”
 
The emotion becomes thicker in my voice,
making it difficult to talk.
 
“It’s
perfect.”

There’s instant relief on his face,
knowing he made a perfect move.
 
He pulls
it from the box and sits up.
 
I climb
into his lap, and he secures it behind my neck.
 
“This way, if you start feeling nervous before a performance, you can
feel that I’m always right there with you.”

“And you’re the only opinion that
matters, so I can always just be myself,” I say as my fingers close around the
locket.
 
I lean forward and breathe my
lips against his.
 
Every cell in my body
is magnetized to his.
 
My soul wants to
climb out of me and permanently attach itself to him.
 

“I love you, Whitney,” he says quietly
as his fingers climb under my night gown to settle on my bare sides.
 
“More and more every day.”

And I think maybe, just maybe I’m ready
to say it back, when there’s a knock on my door, and then Tony lets himself in.

“Oh, uh…” he says uncomfortably as he looks
away.
 
The wall behind him is suddenly
very interesting.
 
“Sorry, Miss Ford, but
we need to get going.”

“Don’t mind us, Tony,” Kale says with an
annoyed chuckle as I climb off of him.
 

Ten minutes later, the both of us are
dressed and headed to the studio.
 
There
was a huge crowd outside the doors, but Tony is very good at making a hole and
looking very scary-get-out-of-my-way.

We pull into the underground parking
garage and head into the building.
 
I’m a
pro at navigating my way around now and head right up to the ninth floor.

And I wear Kale’s bright yellow heels.

The producers are all happy to see Kale,
cause every time they see us together, it means that we’re still together, and
that still means rolling publicity for me and my upcoming album.
 
They could care less if Kale and I actually
like each other.

Much less maybe love each other.

“And cue the magic,” Matt says.

Someone presses play and the guitar solo
I recorded blares over the speakers overhead.

It’s not quite what I anticipated.
 
It’s a faster tempo than I expected all the
background instrumentation to be.
 
It’s
more upbeat.
 
When I wrote it, it was
soulful and heartfelt and so make-you-want-to-fly first love feel.
 
And all that is still there.
 
Sort of.
 
And it’s more.

This makes you want to get up and
dance.
 
It makes you want to find someone
and kiss them.
 
It makes you want to
confess your true feelings and not wait another second longer.

When the song is over, everyone looks at
me expectantly.

“I love it,” I confess with a gush.
 
“It’s amazing.”

“Yes!” they all cheer.
 
Some of them even clap.
 
Hadley squeals and bounces in her seat.
 
“I knew you’d love it.”

“Knew?” I ask.
 

“Okay,
cat’s
out of the bag, we all heard it yesterday,” she says sheepishly.
 
“But I just knew you were going to be
thrilled with it.”

“Okay people,” the head honcho, Veronica,
says over the happy din going on.
 
“We
are good to go.
 
I want this shipped out
to every radio station and that pre-order being advertised like it’s on fire.
 
I want this playing everywhere by the end of
this week!”

“And that means it’s time to get back in
the studio, missy!” Hadley says happily as everyone leaves their seats and
starts shuffling out of the conference room.

“I’ll be in the booth in just a few
minutes,” I say to her and Matt who are waiting on me expectantly.

And I have this weird moment of fear and
pride.
 
All these people are here for
me.
 
For
me
.
 
Not just because of Kale.
 
But because of me.
 
Because of my voice.
 
They’ve invested money into me.
 
They’ve invested their time.
 
They want me to succeed.
 
And the pressure is so scary.
 
Cause I’m constantly afraid that I’ll trip
and fall flat on my face in the figurative way that I usually literally do.

But they’re looking at me like I can
really do this.
 
Like I really can rise
up and be the star they’re hoping for.

“Five minutes,” Matt says, holding up
the same number of fingers.

And they all leave Kale and I alone,
standing just outside the conference room.

“So, what did you think?” I ask as I
take his hands in mine.
 
I still hate how
much taller than him I am with the heels, but I could practically float away
with how pumped up I feel.

“If you’re happy with it, I’m happy,” he
says.
 
But I see something there in his
eyes that isn’t quite so convincing.

“What?
 
No.
 
You hated it,” I say.
 
And I instantly get shot out of my hot air
balloon.

“No, I didn’t hate it,” he says with a
sigh, trying to recover.
 
“It’s just…”

“What?”

“It’s just it sounds different when you
sing it,” he confesses.
 
He pulls me
slightly closer.
 
“When you’re singing it
to me, I feel...
 
Everything.
 
And the recording just makes me feel…like I’m
back at high school prom.”

I laugh.
 
Cause that’s exactly the way it makes me
feel
.
 
“Oh
my gosh
, you’re
so right,” I say.
 
“And I think that’s
exactly what they were going for.”

Kale shrugs and shakes his head.
 
“It doesn’t matter anyway.
 
Let the rest of the world get that
version.
 
I’ll take my private shows
every night.
 
I’ll take my version and
feel like the luckiest damn man alive knowing I’m the one you wrote it for.”

“The one I wrote it about,” I add with a
smile as I pull him closer and press a kiss to his lips.

“Luckiest damn man in the universe,” he
mumbles into my kiss.

“Whitney, five minutes is up,” Matt says
demandingly.

I don’t even look away from Kale as our kiss
deepens.
 
I simply raise my middle finger
in Matt’s direction.