FanGirl Squeal (RockStars of Romance Book 1) (9 page)

“Both of you can kiss my ass,” Cash grinned, but he closed
the book. He didn’t want to add fuel to that fire. “This is pretty awesome.
I’ll get into it later, for sure. Tracy, can I talk to you for a sec?”

Tracy stood up and followed Cash into the kitchen away from
nosy ears and prying eyes.

“Did you talk to your dad for me?”

“Yes, and he’s agreed to take Michaela on as a patient. He’s
already met with her parents and her doctors.”

“Does he think he can help her?” he asked anxiously.

Tracy nodded and patted her client’s shoulder. “He says he
can.”

Cash leaned against the counter and pushed his hair away
from his face. He prayed that hooking Michaela up with the best oncologists
would save her life.

“She’s only ten, Tracy,” he sighed.

Tracy leaned closer to him and patted his chest. “This is
why I love working for you. You’re such a good human being. You make my job so
easy most of the time.”

“I’m just trying to help a little girl.”

“And that’s why so many people adore you. I’m going to go now.
I have another meeting.”

Tracy started to walk out of the kitchen but stopped when
she got to the entrance.

“Cash, I don’t like to get involved in my client’s personal
lives, but you need to get out and have some fun. It’s summer in New York and
you have the world at your fingertips. You’ve worked your ass off for the last
year and a half. Take a break. Forget about cameras and gossip people. Let
loose and enjoy the fruits of your labor. Make me work for the money you pay
me.”

Cash gave his publicist his signature smirk. “I’m about to
go to the Yankee game and cause some trouble with Donnie. We’ll probably get
drunk and get thrown out of Yankee Stadium.”

Tracy laughed softly. “That’s exactly what I’m talking
about.”

****

Brittany was locked away in her bedroom and Jennifer had
gone back to her own apartment when Cash fell into the house after hanging out
with Donnie. They hadn’t got kicked out of Yankee Stadium but they had pissed
off a bunch of Yankee fans who were already fuming over the atrocity that was
the Yankee-Oriole game.

Tracy had been right. It felt good to go out and not care
what people were thinking or what might get printed in OK! Magazine the next
week. Hot dogs, beer, and baseball…he actually felt normal for a few hours.
Although, he did know that the feeling wouldn’t last. It never did. Eventually,
he’d see his face on the cover of a gossip magazine and retreat to his hole. He’d
probably never understand why people were so interested in what he ordered at
Starbucks or how long he stayed in the gym.

Cash grabbed a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue from his liquor
cabinet, a glass, and a bucket of ice and sat in the piano room, tinkering with
the keys. The fan-made coffee table book sat on top of his piano. As he glanced
at the stack of empty sheet music, he wasn’t focused on writing a song. It was
a little after midnight and he couldn’t get the image of Savannah Ford out of
his mind. Every few minutes, the image would sneak into his head and he’d start
smiling.

He rose from the bench and slid the book towards him. He’d
been waiting for the perfect moment to sit back and read. He took his drink and
book into a corner of the comfortable room and sat on the floor. After staring
at Savannah’s pictures, he began to read her letter.

Dear
Cash,

I’ve never
written a “fan letter” before and I have to wonder if reading one is just as
uncomfortable as writing one. When I decided to move forward with this project,
I had no idea what I was going to say. I’ve always wanted a chance to tell you
Thank You, but as I sit here, I’m almost at a loss for words.

I do not
know if we can ever truly understand the impact we have on the lives of others.
Maybe it’s not for us to understand. What I do know is that you, through your
music, have touched my life in ways that even I can’t fully grasp. Your music
has become the words that I have never been able to vocalize. Your music has
guided me through the toughest and most painful moments of my life, like a
guiding light of hope and comfort. I have laughed and cried to your music. I
have bookmarked the happiest chapters in my life with your songs.

To you,
maybe, they’re just songs…a pattern of notes, chords, and lyrics. For me, they
are pieces of my soul. I have connected with people all over the world that I
probably would have never met if it weren’t for the love we shared of your
music. Best friends that I now consider family. I’ve had the most fun with them
and created memories that will last a lifetime, all because of your music.

We live
in a world where paparazzi follow celebrities everywhere and feel entitled to
capture personal moments on film so that the world can see. It’s easy for
people to feel like they know you because of that. But truthfully, we don’t
know you because of that. Your fans know you through the lyrics that you write
and the pieces of yourself that you share. It is those intimate moments, when
you’re standing on stage telling us “at this very moment, you are great” and
that “nobody’s love is as important as the love you have for yourself” that we
cherish. We take those words to heart and I know a large number of people who
internalize your words and are better people because of it.

For that,
I can only say thank you. Thank you for helping me see past the pain. Thank you
for giving me courage to believe in myself. Thank you for making me feel like I’m
not alone. Thank you for sharing your life and gift with us. Thank you for just
being awesome. You are loved and appreciated more than you’ll ever know.

XO

Savannah
Ford – Los Angeles, CA

“Wow,” Cash whispered in absolute awe at what he’d just
read.

The impact of her words, so eloquent and sincere, hit him
right in the heart. He never knew that he, just a guy from Boston, could make
anyone feel like that. It was an overwhelming feeling, but the love poured off
the pages of his book and enveloped him in a cocoon of pure joy.

He certainly hadn’t set out to change people’s lives. He
just wanted to make music and get paid to do it. He wanted to buy his mom a
house and set up their lives so that she wouldn’t ever have to break her back
working again…and have a little fun doing it.

Nevertheless, here it was, fifty pages of proof that he was
changing people’s lives. Proof that he was leaving a positive mark on the
world. He didn’t know what to do with that information. All he knew was that
his biggest fans had just made him happier than he’d ever been in his life.

Cash reached into his pocket for his cell phone. He sent Tracy
a text.

Finished the book. We’ve gotta do something epic for these
people. And I need Savannah Ford’s contact info ASAP.

I’ve never been so anxious and nervous in all of my life.
Ever since Tracy informed me that she gave Cash my personal email address, I’ve
been checking my phone every five minutes.

Is he going to email me? What’s he going to say?

The one thing I promised myself I would not do was tell
anyone, except Troy and Amy, if he did email me. The fandom will freak out if
Cash reaches out to any one of us. People have been sending him things for
years. He’s never emailed anyone before.

After telling Amy that I turned down a chance to hand
deliver
the book
, she completely flipped out.

“This is your chance to meet Cash Myers, one-on-freaking one
and you said no? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Nothing is wrong with me, but as I explained to Troy, Amy,
and Tracy and Brandon,
the book
was a group effort. It wasn’t even my
idea. I didn’t do it to meet Cash. If it happens, it won’t be just me who gets
that honor. There are stories in that book that are much more important than
mine.

However, I’m really interested why he asked for my
personal
email. He could’ve gotten my email address from a number of different places. He
could have tweeted me or hit me up on Facebook, but my personal email? A
million things he
could
say to me ran through my mind until a knock at
the front door jolted me out of my trance. I ran to the door and practically
killed myself when I tripped over Phoebe. I gathered myself and snatched open
the door.

“Savannah Ford?” the deliveryman said behind a massive
brightly colored flower arrangement.

“Yes,” I replied.

“These are for you.”

I took the heavy crystal vase out of his hands. I turned it
around, feeling the weight of the glass. This wasn’t any 1-800-FLOWERS
arrangement. I bent my head to look at the bottom. There it was, the Baccarat
insignia. I’m not a flower person. The only flowers I can easily recognize are
roses and daisies. This arrangement was filled with pink, orange, yellow,
purple, and white flowers that I didn’t recognize. It reminded me of a Hawaiian
sunset. I sniffed the flowers, intoxicated by their powerful scent.

“There’s more,” the deliveryman stated in tired voice.

I stepped aside as he brought in two more gorgeous
arrangements, a box wrapped in purple wrapping paper, and an extremely large
rectangular box that he propped against the entryway wall.

“Who is all this from?” I asked.

My birthday was months away and my parents don’t send me
gifts. They’ve caught on to the fact that I hate visiting them so they hold my
gifts hostage until I come home.

I signed the little machine the courier was carrying and
didn’t recognize the name of the courier service. Then again, why would I? I’ve
only used Fed-Ex and UPS. What the heck do I know about private couriers?

“There’s a card,” was the man’s gruff reply as he walked
away.

I shut the door behind him and searched for the card tucked
away inside one of the flower arrangements. When I found, I sucked in my
breath. My name was handwritten across the front of the envelope, not printed
from a computer like every other card I’ve gotten with a flower delivery. I’ve
seen that handwriting before. I couldn’t bring myself to open it alone. I
propped my iPad on its stand and Facetimed Amy.

“What’s up, girl?” she said. “Why’s your face all flushed?”

I switched the camera around so she could see the flowers
and boxes then I held the card up to the camera.

“What the hell? Do you have a secret admirer that you’re not
telling me about?”

Just then, I heard someone say, “No phone, Amy!”

“Hold on, Banana. I gotta go in the hall.”

“Where are you?”

“Yoga class. Hold on a sec.”

The screen went black. A few seconds later, Amy’s face
popped back up. “Okay, so who’s it from?”

“I don’t know yet, but I have a feeling…” my voice trailed off,
almost as if I couldn’t bring myself to actually say the name out loud.

“Who?” Amy shrieked.

“Cash.”

“Oh My God! Open the card. Right. Now!”

I slipped my finger under the flap and pulled out the plain
white card. My mouth dropped open as I reached for my cell.

“You’re killin’ me, Banana. What’s it say?”

“Check your email.”

“Why? Why is that important right now?”

“No dummy,” I chuckled. “It says
check your email – Cash.
”

Amy and I squealed so loudly that Phoebe and Joey ran out of
the room. My hands were trembling as I opened the Gmail app on my phone.

“Oh my God,” I whispered. “Amyyyyy,” I breathed. “He sent me
an email.”

“Oh God, I’m gonna faint. I can’t breathe.”

“Neither can I. Amy, there’s an email in my inbox from Cash
Freakin’ Myers. What the hell???”

“Okay, okay,” Amy tried to calm us both down. “Look Banana,
I know you said that you weren’t going to tell anyone if he contacted you, but
you’re my best friend. You have to tell me what that email says. I will die if
you don’t.”

“We’re both probably going to die if I read that email.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Amy laughed.

I took a deep breath and opened the email. I didn’t even
scan it before I started reading aloud.

Dear Savannah,

To answer your question, reading fan mail is just as
awkward as you think it is. However, I read every page of your gift. I was
floored by the beautiful, most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received. Thank you so
much for thinking of me.

In all my years of playing music, the idea that the
people who listen to my music could tell when I needed a pick me up never
crossed my mind. When I’m sitting at my piano or plucking away at my guitar,
trying to put lyrics to melodies and vice versa, I never really thought about
how what I was doing would affect someone else.

What you and the others have done is gave my life a true
sense of purpose. Being a celebrity – for lack of a better word – isn’t the
easiest of life choices. There have been many times along the years where I
wanted to throw in the towel and get a real job. I didn’t because I love making
music. But those letters, those stories and pictures make all the inconveniences
of celebrity worth it. I will never complain about long bus trips or sleepless
nights, or strangers following me around with cameras if it gives just one of
you hope or inspiration to be great. You have made want to do this forever.
Thank you.

Your friend,

Cash

PS-I’d love to meet up and do that interview you wanted.
Just let me know when and where. I’ll make sure to be available.

PPS – I hope you like flowers. And the small box is from
my mother and sister. The big one’s from me of course ;)

“OH MY GOD!!” Amy and I both exhaled at the same time.