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Authors: K.L. Middleton

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Chapter
Twenty-Three

 

Ransom

 

Ignoring their warnings, I grabbed the keys to my Porsche, and decided to take a trip to the golf club. Fortunately, I was able to dodge my security, and leave without getting frisked on the way to my car.

When I arrived at the reception
, it was just after eight. I scoped out the parking lot until I found Tiffany’s car, and then parked several spots away. I turned off the engine, but left the tunes on, eager to see her one last time before I left town. I didn’t even care if we made love or watched a chick-flick. I just wanted to be near her.

I lay my head back against the seat
, and pictured the way she’d looked up at me when we’d made love the last time. The pleasure on her face, and the way her lips opened as she moaned. I wanted to see that again. I
had
to see that again. It was driving me insane.

You’re falling for her,
taunted a little voice in the back of my head
. Admit it.

W
ho was I kidding? I’d already fallen, and landed
hard
. This girl was the only thing real in my life. Something I wanted for
myself,
and as far as I was concerned, not even Icon was going to take her away from me. Not if I had anything to do with it.

As I thought about our future and watched for her, other guests began to leave the building. Just as I was trying to decide whether I should just go in and try to find her, I heard Tiffany’s laughter echo through the darkness.

“Julian! You’re crazy!” she giggled.

I sat up straight and watched as that blonde guy from earlier, gave Tiffany a piggy-back ride towards her car.

What the fuck?

He set her down next to her car and then said something.

They both burst out laughing.

I rolled down my window further and tried to listen.

“I’ll drive,” he said, grabbing her keys. “We’ll just leave my car here.”

“Okay. But what if you get lucky tonight?”

He chuckled.
“I’m not going to need my car then, am I?”


Very true. You know, if anyone deserves to get laid after all this time, it’s you. In fact I’m going to make sure you do,” she rambled, her voice thick. “Nobody should have to wait two years.”

“Shh…” he laughed. “Someone’s going to hear you.”

“I don’t care.”

A wave of jealousy and pain
slammed into me, as he opened the passenger side-door for her and she got in. I felt like someone had hit me in the chest with a baseball bat, and then kicked me in the balls. Twenty-four hours ago, she’d been mewling like a kitten underneath me. Tonight, I was being replaced with a guy that looked like a Ken doll.

As they rolled out of the parking lot, I released my white-knuckled grip on t
he steering wheel, and drove to the nearest liquor store.

Chapter
Twenty-Four

 

 

 

Six Weeks Later

 

Hollywood

 

Tiffany

 

 

 

“This is Taylor Blake coming at you
live
from American Icon!” he said, beaming into the camera with a luminous smile. He held up the fingers of his left hand. “Ten-thousand auditions, five major cities, now reduced to thirty-hopefuls all competing to win a seven-year contract with American Icon, which includes a one million dollar sign-on bonus and a record deal to launch the career of their dreams. What more can I say but… let’s get this show on the road!”

The familiar
music echoed throughout the dressing rooms as the final touches were applied to our hair and makeup. There were fifteen of us women sharing the same dressing room, and I was scheduled to perform a duet with a male singer, Darren Stryker, who I’d been practicing with all week. The song was from one of Ransom’s albums, called, “I’m Over You.” The irony of it was, I hadn’t heard from Ransom since the funeral, and I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Every time I caught a glimpse of his face or heard his name mentioned, my stomach did flip-flops. I missed him so much that I could barely concentrate on the contest.

“So, you nervous?” asked the girl,
teasing my hair. Her name was Mindy, and she was about my age, with short red hair and green braces. She was cute, petite, and almost reminded me of an elf.

I held up my hand, which was
trembling. “You could say that.”

She smiled
at me in the mirror. “Look towards the crowd in back. I heard that helps. It makes everyone a big blur.”

I wasn’t sure if that was going to help me. The fact that I was going to face Ransom again
, while trying not to dissect a song from his bestselling album, was making me nauseous. I pictured his cocky grin, the tilt of his head as he watched me perform a hit that
he
was famous for, and I felt like running for the hills. “I’ll remember that,” I said, trying not to hyperventilate.

She spritzed my hair with something and then
sighed happily. “We’re done. What do you think?”

I stared at myself in the mirror, thinking I looked more like a Barbie Doll than anything.
Hooker Barbie Doll with stilettos, puffy hair, and thick eyeliner. “Uh, nice.”

She glanced
down at my short, strapless dress, which was white with pearl sequins. “If the song doesn’t do it for them, this dress will. You look amazing.”

I
stood up and wondered how they expected me to move around in a dress that tight. “Thanks.”

She giggled. “Just don’t fall in those heels. I swear, one of these days, someone is going to trip and fall flat on their face.”

“I hope to God that you didn’t just jinx me,” I said, staring down at the silver shoes.

A woman
with deep worry lines on her forehead stuck her head into the dressing room. “You’re on in five minutes, Tiffany. Your partner is already waiting near the stage entrance.”

“Thanks.”

“Relax and break a leg,” said Mindy, moving next to me.

I looked down at my heels and winced. “I just might.”

“You’ll be fine,” she replied, urging me forward towards the exit. “Now, get out there before you miss your cue.”

“Right,” I answered, walking
towards the stairs on my shaky legs, counting each step while I tried not to trip. Although I’d worn high-heels since I was thirteen, these puppies were definitely made for looks, and not for comfort.

“You look beautiful,” said
Darren, as I met him by the steps. He was in his late twenties and reminded me of an older Justin Bieber.

“Thanks,” I said, feeling myself begin to perspire. I could hear the crowd clapping as the last contestants
finished their song, and I prayed that I’d make it through the song without throwing up.

“We’ve got this,” he said, squeezing the side of my arm. “Don’t worry about a thing.”

“I wish I had your confidence.”

“I’m confident because o
f my partner. I feel like a goofball next to you. Your voice is incredible.”

I blushed. “Thanks.
You really do have a great voice Darren. Don’t ever doubt yourself.”

“I find doubting a lot easier,” he joked.

“I know what you mean.”

A man with a clipboard waved us up to the stage entrance. “Come on. Come on.”

Darren grabbed my hand and led me up the stairs. “Those shoes are dangerous.”

“I know. They weren’t my idea.”

“Try not to fall.”

“Try to catch me if I do.

He laughed.


Listen, as soon as they draw the curtains, get into position,” said the stage-hand.”


Yes, we know,” replied Darren.

Seconds later, the curtains came down and the other contestants flew past us, full of excited adrenaline.

“Remember,” said Darren as we stepped onto the stage. “You’re here because your voice was better than thousands of other contestants. We were meant for this.
You
were meant for this.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded vehemently. “Right… okay… I’ll be fine…”

We took our positions on the stage and each grabbed a microphone. As I turned it on, my pulse went from over-drive to mach-five. I closed my eyes and tried to steady my breathing as I listened to Taylor on the other side of the curtain, joking with the judges. There was some laughter from the audience, and then he proceeded to introduce us.

Darren winked at me.

The music to our song began to play and I exhaled.

Chapter Twenty-Five

 

Ransom

 

 

I leaned forward as the familiar chords of “I’m Over You” began to p
lay. When the curtain opened and I saw her standing there, looking frightened but stunningly beautiful, it took my breath away.

Damn, I’d missed her.

Darren opened his mouth and began to sing.

 

You think you know… me.

You think own
… me.

My heart…

My soul…

But the damage is don
e.

Girl, it’s time to move on
.

You can’t hurt me no more
.

I’
ve picked my heart off the floor.

I’m over
you…

I’m over
you…

Baby, I’m over you…

 

She smiled and began to sing.

 

I see you smiling at me
,

Y
ou still don’t believe,

That
I’m free…

From your chains…

See babe, I don’t need you no more,

I’ve
finally made it to shore,

Now
this life is my own,

It’s time to move on
,

I’m over you….

I’m over you…

I’m so over you….

 

Then they sang together.

 

Take your lies

They’re always the same…

It’s no disguise…

You take pleasure from pain…

But see the joke is on you…

Yeah,
I’m so over you…

I’m over you…

Babe, I’m over you…

 

The song continued with both of them dancing together, and singing their heart outs. When it was over, the crowd gave a standing ovation and I closed my eyes. I’d lost her once and this was going to separate us even further. If she didn’t hate me before, she would now.

 

***

Tiffany

 

The judges were in the shadows
next to the stage as we sang Ransom’s song, which helped ease my terror and anxiety. As the lyrics flowed from my lips, and the tension left my body, I soon found myself enjoying the performance, which surprised the hell out of me. It also helped to see the smiles of approval on the audience’s faces. When we were finished and they stood up, clapping and screaming, I felt like I was on top of the world. My eyes filled with tears and I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face. I didn’t think anything could bring me down from the cloud I was dancing on. That is, until I noticed the expression on Ransom’s face.

Scorn.

Taylor walked onto the stage, and stood between us. He grabbed both of our hands and raised them up into the air.

The crowd began to cheer even louder,
and I smiled again, ignoring the look on Ransom’s face.

“Wow,” said Taylor, after he released our hands. “That was amazing. Both of you.”

“Thanks,” we replied in unison. I smiled at Darren who was also grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Judges?” said Taylor, turning towards the trio. “What do you think? Do these two have what it takes to get to the next round?”

Deidre awarded us with a beaming smile. “Are you kidding? It was spectacular. The fans
loved
it!
I
loved it!”

The audience roared again
, and my cheeks began to burn, my smile was so wide. When the noise died down, Tyrone began to speak. “Okay, so here’s what I think. Darren, you were right on spot, man. Right on spot. Tiffany, you were pretty tight too. You reached those chords like a champion, girl. I have to tell you, though, when you first started singing, you looked like you were ready to pass out.”

I raised the microphone. “I nearly did.”

Some of the audience laughed.

“The winner of American Icon needs to have stage presence. That person has to own the song, the stage, and the
entire audience. My advice to you is… relax. Have fun. You’re here to perform and entertain, but that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it.”

“Thanks,” I said.
“I’ll try harder the next time. I promise.”

He nodded. “
I’m sure you will, girl. You already showed us that you can relax up there. You just have to do it
before
you hit the stage. Now, I know that the viewers are in charge of the votes, now, but from where I’m sitting, I think we all know you two are going to the next round. You
killed
it tonight.
Killed
it.”

The crowd clapped
, and then began to chant ‘
Ransom
’ as the cameras rolled to him. I lifted my chin, and met his disapproving gaze with as much pride as possible.

“What’s wrong, Ransom?” asked Taylor, chuckling. “You don’t seem very… impressed.”

Ransom smiled arrogantly. “Honestly? I wasn’t.”

The crowd began to ‘boo’
him, and his smile widened.

“Why do you say that?” asked Taylor
incredulously, putting an arm around me. “Is it because you’re not used to a female singing your song?”

“It has nothing to do with th
at,” he replied. “They missed some of the lyrics and both of their pitches were off several times. No, I really think it could have been performed a lot better.”

“So, what’s your opinion? Do you think they should make it to the next round?”

Our eyes locked. “Sorry, if I was voting, I’d have to say ‘no’.”

 

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