Actually, the problem is, you do.
‘Maybe not,’ Jenna persisted, ‘but it worked. And the truth is that nobody wants the old Bryant’s any more. You can only coast on a reputation for so long.’
‘Tell that to Aurelie,’ he said, meaning to close down the conversation, but Jenna let out a sharp little laugh.
‘But that’s all she has. Do you know she actually wanted to sing something new—some soppy folk ballad.’ Jenna rolled her eyes, and Luke stilled.
‘A folk ballad? She’s a pop star.’
‘I know, ridiculous, right? I don’t know what she was thinking. She wanted to wear jeans, for heaven’s sake, and play her guitar. Like we hired her for that.’
Luke didn’t answer, just let the words sink in. ‘What did you say to her?’ he asked after a moment.
‘I told her we’d hired her to be Aurelie, not Joan Baez.’
He rolled a silver-plated pen between his fingers, his gaze resting once more on the hazy skyline. ‘What did she say?’
Jenna shrugged. ‘Not much. We’re the ones who hired her. What could she do, after all?’
Nothing, Luke supposed. Nothing except lash out at anyone who assumed she was just that, only that—Aurelie, the shallow pop princess. An uncomfortable uncertainty stole through him at the thought.
Who was Aurelie, really?
‘That will be all, Jenna,’ he said and, looking faintly miffed since he’d always encouraged a spirit of camaraderie in the office, she left. Luke sank back into his chair and rubbed his hands over his face.
He didn’t want to think about Aurelie. He didn’t want to wonder if there was more to her than he’d ever expected, or worry about what she must have been feeling. He didn’t want to think about her at all.
Sighing, he dropped his hands to stare moodily out of the window. Jenna’s suggestion was ridiculous, of course. There was absolutely no way he was hiring Aurelie to open so much as a sugar packet for him. He never wanted to see her again.
Then why can’t you get her eyes out of your mind?
Her eyes. When he closed his own, he saw hers, stormy and sad and brave. He was being ridiculous, romantic, and about a woman whose whole lifestyle—values, actions, everything—he despised. She might have written some soppy new song, but it didn’t change who she was: a washed-up, over-the-top diva.
Yet her eyes.
He let out a groan of frustration and swivelled back to face his computer. He didn’t need this. The reopening of the New York flagship store might have been a success, but he still had a mountain of work to do. Bryant Enterprises had over a hundred stores across the world and Luke intended to overhaul every single one.
Without the help of Aurelie.
* * *
Aurelie bit her lip in concentration as she played the four notes again. Did it sound too melancholy? She had to get the bridge right or—
Or what?
She glanced up from the piano to stare unseeingly around the room she’d converted into a work space. Nobody wanted her music any more. She might be good for rehashing a few of her hit singles, but nobody wanted to hear soulful piano and acoustic guitar ballads. She’d got that loud and clear.
When she’d stupidly mentioned such an idea to her agent, he’d laughed. Laughed. ‘Stick with what you’re good at, babe,’ he’d said. ‘Not that it’s all that much.’
She’d fired him. Not that it mattered. He’d been about to let her go anyway.
Sighing, she rose from the piano bench and went to the kitchen. She’d been working all morning and it was time for a coffee break. She hated indulging in self-pity; she knew there was no point. She’d made her bed and she’d spend the rest of her life lying in it. No one was going to let her change. And, really, she didn’t need to change. At least not publicly. She could spend the rest of her life living quietly in Vermont. She didn’t need a comeback, despite her pathetic attempt at one.
Just the memory of the Bryant’s booking made her cringe. The only reason she’d accepted it was to have a kind of test run, to see how people responded to a new and different Aurelie. And it had failed at the very first gate. The Head of PR who had booked her had been appalled by her suggestion she do something different. People are coming to see the Aurelie they know and love, not some wannabe folk singer. We only want one thing from you.