“You said it was urgent.”
“Yeah, it is. I’m calling about Amy O’Brien—C-Bomb’s PA on his last tour?”
“She’s a cutie.”
“I thought maybe she’s been staying at your place the last several days?”
“No, I’m on Watch Party’s tour now. I haven’t talked to Amy since the RCR tour ended. Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. I need to talk to her about something personal. Who do you think from the RCR tour might have offered Amy a place to crash in LA this past week?”
“Hmm. Could be anyone. Everyone loves Amy.”
“I know the feeling,” I mutter, just as the production manager for Sing Your Heart Out appears and says it’s time for our group to follow her.
“I gotta go,” I say to Melanie on the phone. “Do me a favor and send me the crew sheet from the RCR tour.”
“I don’t have it handy, but I can get it.”
“Thanks. I owe you one.”
We say goodbye and hang up, and I follow the group out of the greenroom. As we walk, I get Fish up to speed, concluding with, “As soon as Melanie sends me that crew list, I’m gonna call every name on it, until I find Amy.”
“That could be a lot of calls,” Fish says. “I’ll help you.”
“Thanks, Fish Head. That’s why I love you the most.”
We reach our destination—the left wing of the stage—and wait for our cue to walk onstage and celebrate this season’s winner. For now, however, the host of the singing competition is onstage, drawing out the suspense.
As the host does her thing, I notice Kendrick Cook standing in the opposite wing and feel sick to my stomach at the sight of him. He’s a fit, handsome dude with a beaming smile and a heart of gold. How could I have been so stupid not to lock Amy down the other night, and risk pushing her straight into the arms of someone like Kendrick Cook?
“Addison Swain!” the host of the singing show bellows onstage and the studio audience loses their shit at the “big reveal” of the winner’s name. Streamers sprout from the ceiling as music begins blaring, and a moment later, Laila Fitzgerald barrels onstage to congratulate the young winner. Finally, a production assistant cues the three of us—Fish, the British popstar, and me—and we head onstage to join the celebration, exactly as we’re contractually required to do.
In the midst of the dance party, I spot Kendrick whooping it up with Savage across the expansive soundstage, so I grab Fish’s arm and pull him over there for moral support.
When we reach Savage and Kendrick, we all high-five each other for the cameras, and then make a show of having a great ol’ time as the blaring music continues, until the director yells, “We’re clear!”
“Catch you later,” Savage mumbles, before beelining across the stage toward his girlfriend, Laila.
“Well, that winner wasn’t a surprise to me,” Kendrick says amiably.
But I don’t have time to talk about the show. “Have you seen Amy since Laila’s party?” I ask. And when Kendrick looks at me blankly, I add, “The redhead who was ‘direct’ and ‘refreshing.’”
“Ooh.” Kendrick flashes a snarky look. “No, I haven’t seen her since she left the party with you.” He cocks an eyebrow. “Uh oh. Does this mean you weren’t able to teach her what she was dying to learn?”
“No, I taught her everything she wanted to learn and more.” Annoyed, I turn to leave but stop when Kendrick calls out to my back, “She’s at Caleb’s.”
I whirl around. “Caleb’s? Are you sure?”
Kendrick nods. “I was talking to him on FaceTime the other day about a drum sequence I was working on. And who did I see in the background, organizing the shelves in Caleb’s home studio, but the redhead from Laila’s party. I was like, ‘Oh, fuck, C-Bomb, no. Please tell me that’s not Colin’s redhead.’ And Caleb goes, ‘Yeah, it’s her. Do me a favor and tell Colin you saw her here. Right away. Please.’ I wasn’t planning to touch that with a ten-foot pole. I didn’t want to be the guy responsible for sparking yet another beef between RCR and 22 Goats. But now that you’re asking me about her, directly, I’m not gonna lie to your face.” He raises his palms and grimaces. “Don’t shoot the messenger! This is between C-Bomb and you.”
I roll my eyes. “C-Bomb isn’t fucking her, KC. He’s harboring her.”
Kendrick furrows his brow. “Huh?”
I run my palm down my face. “Amy and I had an argument. Caleb’s obviously been helping her ghost me.”
“Are you sure? That doesn’t sound like C-Bomb.”
“I’m sure. Thanks for telling me. Sorry I was a dick the other night. I was fighting my attraction to her. I’m sure Amy genuinely liked you.”
“No worries. I figured out the situation pretty quickly. I hope everything works out for you two.”