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Chapter Seventeen

Rachel

“You don’t want to get that?” Parker pointed at my phone.

My head could barely shake a no as I buried the phone in the bottom of my bag. It was real mean to ignore Josh’s call, but I was determined not to talk him until I had the whole mess ironed out.

Parker had picked me up on time, just like he said he would, and we were driving to the photo shoot. I should have said something before we even left the apartment, but courage failed me, and he’d ushered me into the car before I had a chance to say anything. I’d practiced my speech, muttering into the darkness until I had it damn near memorized.

“You feeling okay today?” Parker glanced over at me.

“Just nervous, I guess.”

“First photo shoot. I understand. You’re going to be great.”

My nose wrinkled. “You know what? About that…I’m not sure I’m the right girl for this job.”

“We think you are.” Parker was wearing his damn aviator shades like he always did, so I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “You’re everything people are looking for—that wild beauty and stunning voice. You’re a luscious combination, and I don’t think we’re going to have any problems finding you some type of deal.”

“I appreciate that, I really do, but I’m just concerned that Aren is going to lead me down a path I don’t want to take.”

A muscle in Parker’s jaw jerked, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “You signed the contract, Rachel. You have an obligation to see things through.”

“But I didn’t know what I was signing! You made it all so—”

“We’re here,” Parker cut me off, pulling the car into a sparsely populated lot. The wheels screeched when he braked, and I jolted forward in my seat. “Let’s go.”

He didn’t open the door for me this time, instead clipping toward a small warehouse-looking building. I followed after him, determined to say my speech.

“Parker, please wait,” I called after him. “I just want—”

“You can’t get out of it.” He spun to face me. “If you weren’t sure, you shouldn’t have signed.”

I had no comeback. He was right. I shouldn’t have signed that damn thing! My cheap butt should have hired a lawyer instead of trusting the jerk-face in front of me.

“Lose the scowl.” Parker snatched my arm and pulled me into the building.

I wrenched my arm free, huffing at his manhandling. He ignored my daggers, a charming smile taking over his features as he strolled into the studio. I peered around me. The walls were white. It was a cavernous, empty space with no soul. I glanced at the camera gear. It was an impressive array of stuff, all very expensive and professional by the looks of things. The photographer had a mammoth beast of a camera in his hands and was going ga-ga over whoever he was shooting.

“Yes, that’s it! Perfect. Give me those sexy eyes. Uh-huh and lick your top lip.”

I frowned, going on tiptoes to look over his shoulder.

That’s when my stomach plummeted, sank right down to the tips of my boots. The girl he was photographing was wearing nothing but a thong. Her long, tanned body was stretched across a pile of pillows, and she was hugging a microphone stand, pretending to lick the mic like it was a lollipop.

“I ain’t doing that.” I backed toward the door, fear near blinding me.

I hadn’t even gotten two steps when tight fingers grasped my upper arm and pulled me to his side. “Where do you think you’re going?” Aren’s hot whisper scorched my ear.

“I want out.” I glared into his steely eyes. “I don’t care what it takes. I am not doing this. I didn’t sign up to be no porn star.”

His smarmy smile made my skin crawl. “This is just promotional material for the club. The men like to know who’s singing for them. This isn’t going into a magazine. It’s simply flyers for the club.”

“I’m
not
doing this!” I yelled.

The room froze as if God was pausing us all with his big remote control. Everyone stared at me. A few mouths popped open, but I only glimpsed them for a second. Aren’s stormy look was keeping me in my place. Fear laced my belly, but I lifted my chin to try and hide it.

“Come with me.” He yanked me out of the room, nearly snapping my head off.

“Let me go.” I tried to wriggle free, but his grip was relentless.

Towing me down the hall, he shoved me into a chair and snatched a pile of pages off the shelf behind him. “Your contract.” He slapped it onto the round table. “The one
you
signed, telling me that you would accept my advice and guidance.”

“But I didn’t know that this is what you were going to advise me to do. You made it sound like you were training me for the stage.”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“No, I mean, a
real
stage, not some cheap, nasty club where I’m gonna be leered at by drunken men! Parker lied to me when he took me to that Helium place. There’s probably not even a potential recording contract, is there!”

“Keep your voice down,” Aren snapped. “Of course there’ll be a potential recording contract. These things take time, that’s why you’re giving me twelve months.”

“I ain’t giving you anything.”

Aren’s gaze, although pale compared to Parker’s, grew dark and ominous. I shrank away from it, my nerves not settling one bit when Parker waltzed into the room.

“Everything okay in here?”

“Miss Rachel wants out,” Aren snapped.

“You two conned me. You made it sound very different.” I slapped the rickety table, making it wobble on its uneven legs.

“Believe what you like, but we have your name in writing.”

“You can’t make me do this.” I sat up in my chair. “I can just walk away.”

“Okay.” Parker nodded, looking far too nonplussed for my liking. He leaned his elbow on top of the water cooler and stretched out his hand. “That’s fine, just pay us what you owe us, and then we can deal with the breach of contract situation.”

My face bunched with a perplexed frown. “I don’t owe you anything.”

“You—” Parker’s head shot back in surprise. “Excuse me?” His comical expression didn’t even make my lips twitch.

A heavy foreboding pressed me right through my chair.

“This is just off the top of my head.” Parker flicked his hand in air, moving away from the wall and slowly walking toward me. “There’s three nights at the hotel, including all your room service charges. That came to just over two thousand dollars.”

I lurched in my seat. “What! I thought—”

“There’s the clothing and shoes you purchased on the weekend, the night out at the club, and then the first month’s rent on your apartment, plus the security deposit. I think you’re getting up to nearly seven thousand dollars now.”

“I don’t have seven thousand dollars!”

“Oh no.” Parker touched his chest, his mock sympathy making me feel like a worm. “That is really not going to help your case when we take you to court for breach of contract. How are you going to afford a lawyer?”

“I—You—”

“Hmmm.” Aren played thoughtful. “I guess you’re going to have to ask your family for help.”

“I’m not…” I shook my head. “I haven’t seen my family in years.”

“Well, there’s always that boyfriend of yours.” Parker tapped his chin. “What was his name again? Josh…something. Oh wait!” He snapped his fingers. “Joshua Clark. That’s it. Hey, hang on a second,
Clark’s
Bar. Does Josh own that place?”

Anger was clogging my airwaves. I could barely breathe let alone talk.

“I wonder how much that’s worth?” Aren murmured.

“Probably enough to cover compensation and legal expenses. May not stretch to what she already owes us, though.”

“You leave him out of this!” I shot from my chair, pointing at them both.

“Oh, so you don’t want him to know?” Aren’s mocking tone was like a slap in the face.

“That bar is everything to him. You will
not
take that! He has worked too damn hard!”

“Rachel.” Aren raised his hands as if trying to calm a bull. “We don’t have to take it from him. We’re just guessing that if he finds out you need the money, he’d be willing to do anything to help you out. He’s just that kind of guy, right?”

“I wouldn’t go to him!” I seethed. “He doesn’t need to know!”

“Okay.” Parker nodded, sliding his hands into his perfectly pressed slacks. “So, how are you going to get the money then?”

My mouth went dry. I couldn’t even swallow.

He made a face, his long nose crinkling near his left eye. “Looks like you’re in a bit of a bind. If you want out, you’re really going to need Josh’s help.”

“I can’t do that.” I shook my head.

“Then I guess you better fulfill your contract.”

“This is—This is blackmail!”

“No. It’s business.” Aren glanced at his watch. “Now get yourself to makeup. We’re shooting your stuff next.”

It was like the fight had been yanked right out my throat. I had no words, no venom to throw at them. I was stuck. How could I possibly put Josh in the position to bail me out of my own stupid mistake? He couldn’t lose the bar over this.

My jaw worked to the side, my lips quivering as I willed myself not to lose it. I crossed my arms over my chest, holding myself together. I guess I deserved nothing less. Roy McGarrett was probably right. I was a worthless whore. Josh had tried to make me something different, but stupid ol’ me had ended up right back in the same place.

“This way.” Parker flicked his head, and I had no choice but to follow.

I had no choice but to sit in that makeup chair and become something I wasn’t—false eyelashes, plumped-up lips, teased hair that made me look like a scarecrow.

But that wasn’t the worst part.

The worst part was having to strip off every inch of my dignity while manipulative men stood by with smirks on their faces.

My only safety net was a guitar, which they made me treat like a teddy bear. They also gave me a floppy straw cowboy hat that I used to cover myself whenever I could.

Trying to pose for photos was a nightmare. It didn’t take long for the photographer to get madder than a bull seeing red. He started yelling just the way my daddy used to, and my old instinct forced me to jump to submission. I put on a show, and by the end of the session I’d become the girl they’d wanted me to be.

Stage names were thrown over my head while the camera snapped, and I was soon Sissy Hancock—the sexiest cowgirl in the west.

I wanted to hurl.

Puke my guts out all over those silk pillows, but I held it in.

I knew what it was to throw my self-respect away. I’d had to do it before to survive.

At least this time I was doing it save someone I loved.

Chapter Eighteen

Josh

The phone rang.

I raced toward it, leaping over a chair to grab it in time.

“Hello, Rachel?”

“Hey, Josh. Sorry to disappoint. It’s just Uncle Amos here.”

My lips twitched with a smile in spite of my chagrin. I’d been waiting almost a week for Rachel to call me back. My stubborn streak had kicked in big time, and I didn’t care how much it hurt. I wasn’t dialing her number again. She could damn well call me. I’d left my first message and that was enough. If she was going to ignore me, then fine!

I tried to hide all this from my voice as I forced out a chuckle. “How’s it going, traveling man?”

“I’m having such a great time.”

“Where you up to?”

“I’m back in the States now. Crossed the border from Canada last week, and I’m heading down the coast now. Hoping to get to Mexico by the end of the summer.”

“Sounds great. You should look up Rachel when you’re passing through California.”

There was a sudden pause and I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing I hadn’t said anything.

“Rachel’s in California?” Uncle Amos’s voice curled high around her name.

“Yep.” I cut the word short, giving everything away.

“Well, what happened, son?”

I clenched my teeth, picking at the counter top.

“I can’t imagine you two fighting big enough for her to go that far west.”

Joining in his chuckle was an effort. His hearty laugh was loud compared to my dry snicker.

“She got herself a singing opportunity. An agent was passing through town and offered her the chance to audition. She was singing for the bar and he saw her.”

“Wow.” Uncle Amos laughed again. “Oh, wow. She must be over the moon.”

“She sure is.”

“So, did she pass? I mean, did they want her?”

“I think so. She called to say it went real well and uh, that they’d be working with her for a year, training her up and everything.”

“Did she get a recording deal?”

My jaw worked to the side as I struggled to make my voice ring with cheer. “I don’t know all the ins and outs of it. She’s been real busy, so it’s hard for her to call.”

Uncle Amos paused. The weight of his silence felt like a ten-ton truck. “But she’s okay though, right?”

I swallowed. Shit, I didn’t know! She’d have to actually call for me to find that out. I kicked at the board running beneath the bar and turned to survey the empty space. A soft light shone through the windows, the thick rays highlighting the dust dancing in the air.

I turned my back on it, a sick dread nestling in my stomach. My initial worry for Rachel came charging back through me like the cavalry.

“I’m not sure where she’s up to with everything. I know she’s in LA and being taken care of by this agent—Parker Stewart. She sounded real happy last time she called.”

“Okay, well as long as she’s doing all right.” He snickered. “That girl. She deserves it, you know. She was like a ball of yellow sunlight, could brighten up any room she walked into.”

“Yeah, yeah, she could.” My voice sounded small and distant.

“I bet you’re missing her.”

I cleared my throat, jerking tall. “I’m being supportive.”

“It’s okay to be hurting, too.”

I shook my head, my lips pursing to the side.

Uncle Amos waited for me to fill the empty space, but I couldn’t do it. My eyes roved the bar, taking in the line of clean glasses and the liquor bottles on the top shelf. I thought of a million things to tell him, but none of them would come out.

“Well, I guess I better get going then.” My uncle could always sense a lost battle. “Why don’t you send me her details, and I’ll look her up when I’m passing through.”

I nodded. “Will do. You take care.”

“You too, son.”

I hung up before more could be said. I was never one for long goodbyes anyway. The phone felt slick in my sweaty palms. I didn’t have any details to send the man, because I didn’t know any damn details.

A thought came to me, making me break for the stairwell and charge up to my room. Flicking aside the contents on the cluttered desk, I pulled a business card from beneath the edge of the keyboard.

I hated making phone calls to people I didn’t know. Hell, I could barely make ’em to people I
did
know. My thumb twitched over the buttons while I hesitated, pacing to the unmade bed and back.

“Just do it, you fool!” I cursed and pressed the buttons, holding the phone to my ear as if it were infected.

“Parker Stewart.”

I felt like a guard dog listening to an approaching stranger. It was an effort not to growl into the phone. “Hi there, I’m looking for Rachel Myers.”

“And who is this?”

“It’s her boyfriend.”

“Oh, Josh, how’s it going?”

“Where’s Rachel?”

“She’s doing really great. We’re setting up promo work for her already, and she’s got her first performance tomorrow night. It’s just for a small crowd at a club downtown, but we’re all very excited. That girl is a hard worker, and her passion for music is second to none.”

“So, she signed the contract then?”

“Oh, have you not spoken to her?”

I pressed my lips together, holding in a string of vile curses. “We keep missing each other,” I lied.

“I get it. It’s a busy time. I’ll make sure to tell her that you’re trying to reach her, though, okay? Expect a call from her sometime soon.”

“All right. Thank you.”

“No problem. Don’t you worry about your girl. We’re taking good care of her.”

He hung up, and I listened to the dial tone for a good half-minute before hanging up myself. Something didn’t feel right. That pretty boy’s smooth voice grated on my nerves. He was like a greasy, slimy bowl of fries that left a bad taste in your mouth.

My insides wavered with indecision until I finally did something I’d never done before in my life. I made my third phone call in less than ten minutes.