The Stage (Phoenix Rising #1) (27 page)

M
anny drives us and all our luggage to the Audi dealership, but I refuse to drive the car home. It’s not mine. I don’t want to torture myself. Deloris puts Riley’s booster seat in the back and the two of them get in.

“Is this Deloris’ car?” She asks me.

“No, chica. It’s Kolton’s.”

“How come we’re driving it, then?” she asks.

“He wants us to bring it to him.” I’m trying to not let her know the car’s in my name or she’ll never let me give it back to him.

“Come on, Mia. Come with us.” Riley whines.

“Nope. I’m riding with Manny. He’ll be sad by himself.”

“Don’t you even wanna smell the new-car scent? ‘Member when Daddy got that new SUV and we all drove around the block in it when he came home? It smelled good—just like this.”

“It’s okay, Riles. You enjoy it for me. Okay?”

“M’kay! Deloris says she’s gonna get me a ice cream cone at McDonalds when we get to the end of Sacramento.”

“Why not stop in Atwater and get one a Foster’s Freeze?” I ask. “They make the best dipped cones.”

“We’ll see how long she can wait,” Deloris says. “It’s a beautiful car,” she says softly to me as she closes the door. I got a breath of the scent; it
did
remind me of Dad. Of Mom and Riley and times that were happier. It’s funny how smells can do that, I think, as we drive back to Kolton and his high-rise life.

*     *     *

It’s late when we pull into the Wilshire Thayer and take the elevator all the way up to the thirteenth floor. I’m exhausted from driving. Aside from just a few stops for ice-cream—yes, Riley got both the “end of Sacramento”
and
the Foster’s Freeze cones—and lunch at In-N-Out Burger. Other than that we have driven straight through.

Kolton hasn’t checked in with me, but I saw Manny texting a lot during our stops.

I’m sure Kolton knows we’re here. And Kolton’s phone is on inside my purse. He can probably see me like a little dot on a map whenever he wants.

When the elevator doors open up, Devon helps us bring the luggage in. “There’s more in the car,” I say. “I can get it, or—”

“We’ve got it, Miss Phoenix,” he says. I’m taken aback by the stunning woman who stands up from the living room couch and walks toward us, her arm stretched out to me.

“Mia Phoenix, I’m Gina DeYoung. Mr. Royce hired me as your publicist.” Her hand is warm, strong.

“What? Uh—” Kolton did what? He never talks about these things with me. He just does whatever he wants. Moving us here, buying me a car—now this.

“I know you’ve just arrived, but there’s a lot in the works and I need to brief you as quickly as possible. Will you have a seat with me?” She motions for me to join her in the formal room. I look to Deloris and she nods, taking a tired Riley upstairs to the bathroom for her shower. I set my water bottle down on the glass table and tentatively lower myself into the plush, goose-down cushion. I roll my head around to loosen the tension in my neck.

“I don’t need a publicist,” I say, worn out, irritated.

“I’m sorry?” she says. “I think you’ll change your mind when you find out what’s going on.”

“What do you mean?”

“As I said, there’s a lot going on. I’ve scheduled an interview for you with Denise Chung from
Minute by Minute.
”

“Why does she want to interview me? She’s huge—that’s a nationwide show.”

“We’ve promised her an exclusive interview with the brown-haired girl from Kolton’s car.” I raise a finger, a protest on my lips, but she ignores me. “Kolton is being extorted.”

“He is?”

“As you know, Katharina Inez has figured out your identity. She’s asking for some quite outlandish things from him, or else she will grant some of the many interviews on the topic of the restraining order. Of course, she will tell them about you. She knows you’ve been staying here. She knows about the nanny, and she says she’s going to claim that you’re using Kolton to win
The Stage
.”

“I—this is crazy. But I don’t think doing an interview is a good idea, though.”

“There’s more,” she says, “She believes Kolton has feelings for you because he cut off their physical relationship when the show started taping. The media has already been reporting about that, so it would be easy to insinuate that you and Kolton have been having an affair.”

“We haven’t. I’m not sleeping with him.”

“I believe you, but it doesn’t matter what
I
think. We have to do this interview tomorrow to make sure America believes you.”

“But what I don’t understand is why you’re going to parade me around on TV? I’m going to get kicked off the show.”

“Absolutely not. Kolton has negotiated this with the producers of
The Stage,”
she clarifies. “They don’t want her doing this interview and then having to do damage control on their end. If we release your identity first, and you explain the non-sexual nature of Kolton’s interest in you. The fact he’s helped you all along because of his selflessness,” she says, counting on her fingers the many ways her idea is right, “as well as the fact there’s been no impropriety between you and him, she will have nothing to say. We cannot allow her to leak your identity and then have to scramble to play defense. This is our offense.”

“I see,” is my only response. I don’t like it, but it makes sense.

“The interview is taking place tomorrow. It will air very soon after.”

“Where’s Kolton?” I have to admit I’m a little relieved he’s not here but also disappointed. I miss—
stop it, Mia!

“Well, he doesn’t stay here with you, right? He’s at his other home, I’m sure.”

“You’ve been there?”

“No, I haven’t. Why do you ask?”

“No reason. Well, thank you for trying to find a way to help us, planning this and everything. Can I think about it for a few days?”

“You have until tomorrow at ten am to think about it.” She stands and reaches out to shake my hand again. “Oh, I’ve left you some of your fan mail in that box. Also, I’ve set up an account for all fan emails. There’s a Facebook and Twitter account, too, which I’m managing for you. You should start interacting with fans now before the live shows. Let me see your phone.” I take it out of my purse and hand it over. While she’s busy adding all of my accounts to my Kolton phone, I watch her. She’s tall, long legs peeking out of her mid-length skirt; long brown hair and chestnut eyes scan the glowing screen. Long fingernails tap the glass as she signs me into the accounts.

“Are you Kolton’s publicist?” I ask because she’s beautiful and he’s probably slept with her—like he has every other woman in the world.

“I’ve never met Mr. Royce in person,” she says. “I’m
your
publicist.” I nod, thankful for that. It feels better knowing she’s mine and not his. “By the way,” she adds on her way out. “Don’t read the comments under the articles.”

“Why not?”

“It can be jolting to read the negative ones. You need to focus on your performances.
I’ll
focus on your image.”

I have an image? That’s an odd thing to think about. I mean, I knew it, but I hadn’t really thought about my image as being something I needed to take care of. In my own way, I’ve guarded my image by pushing Kolton’s help away. But this is taking it to a whole new level.

That night as I lie in the fluffy softness of Kolton’s guest bed reading fan mail, I agree with my fancy publicist that I have to face this threat head-on. It’s too late to wish that this never happened. It’s too late to quit. And there is more power in outing myself and controlling the image created than there is in doing damage control after the fact. The world will see my side of the story first, not her warped one.

I swipe Kolton’s phone and go to messages. I don’t read the ones from when I wasn’t talking to him, even though the number on the app says there are fourteen missed ones. I delete them and start a new thread.

K-Royce Private

11:05 PM

About the interview.

11:10 PM

We have no choice. It’s either now or she gets the first word.

11:12 PM

Are you at your parents?

11:15 PM

I’m lying under the picture.

11:17 PM

Your parents make a heart around you.

11:25 PM

I’d never seen it before. You’re right.

11:26 PM

Good night :-)

11:28 PM

I wish we met a different way.

11:30 PM

Me too

11:34 PM

I wish I could take you places and hold your hand and you’d be mine in some time

11:36 PM

Is that a song?

11:38 PM

It will be.

11:40

It’s beautiful

11:43 PM

Almost as much as you

11:45 PM

*blushing*

11:48 PM

You do. You will again. You are very responsive to me.

11:50 PM

Aren’t they all?

11:52 PM

Not like you. Everything is different with you.

11:55 PM

Good night Kole

11:56 PM

<3

Times like this make me wonder why we can’t be together, why it has to be so difficult. Maybe I’ve got it all wrong. But then the reality of all of our problems comes back to me in a moment of lucidity.

He’s a bad boy, and I’m a good girl.

That never ends well for anyone. Why would I be any different?

*     *     *

“Mia Phoenix?” Denise Chung says in a surprised tone as I walk in, wearing a modest outfit, and take a seat in the armchair provided on the opposing side of the thick glass table. “So, you’re the infamous brown-haired girl who’s stolen Kolton Royce’s heart.”

“I haven’t stolen anyone’s heart,” I smile. “Except hopefully the awesome fans who’ve been sending me all these nice notes and things.”

“But what about Kolton? His heart seems like it’s been stolen.” She puts her hand up to her chin, thoughtfully.

“Kolton’s helping me out so I can compete because I’m raising my little sister alone. He’s been very professional with me,” I say, adjusting my little blazer slightly. Gina motions for me to stop touching my clothes. She told me before, it makes you look nervous and looking nervous means looking guilty.

“This picture changes things significantly, doesn’t it?” she questions, holding up one of the ones in the car when Kolton is holding my face in his hand. “Since Kolton is your coach, should he be touching you so intimately?”

“This picture was just a moment when he was consoling me. I was having a really bad day. He was just being nice.”

“What were you doing in his car that day?”

“Really, nothing happened. I’d left the studio that day to take a walk. This kind of show can be very overwhelming and I’d gotten lost in such a big city. He picked me up and took me home.”

“But, home? Where’s that these days?” she asks. I look at Gina, my publicist. She nods.

“We were staying at Kolton’s penthouse in LA.” I always have to emphasize we. Us. Because he’s helping me and Riley. The audience will take note of that.

“What about now?” she asks.

“We just recently came back to do this interview.” Vague, but truthful.

“Do you think that’s appropriate to live at Kolton’s house since he’s coaching you on the show?”

“It’s really a nice gesture, to give up your house to a family so they’ll be comfortable. He didn’t want Riley living in a hotel for all these months.”

“He doesn’t live there with you?”

“No, he doesn’t. We’re there with Deloris, who’s taking care of Riley while I’m filming the show.”

“Did Kolton pay for Deloris, the nanny, to take care of Riley?”

“Isn’t that nice of him?” I say, turning on the charm. Gina said, the more charming I am, the more people will side with me. “At first I felt like you do about his help. But, now I know, he’s helping us because he’s just a nice person.”