Incite (Sphere of Irony 1)

“So tell me about Unconscious Devotion.”

I stiffen up when he mentions the song I wrote in rehab. There’s no way Leo doesn’t know that I don’t like to talk about it. I haven’t told anyone in the media anything about that song, and they’ve tried. God, they’ve tried. Only the guys know what it means… well, and Ellie, if she’s ever even heard it.

“What about it?” I ask coldly, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms. That song is way too personal for me to chat about casually.

My hostile body language flusters the young reporter, something he’ll need to work on if he wants to make it in this business. A more experienced journalist wouldn’t have batted an eye at my less than enthusiastic response.

“Ummmm, uh…” Leo fumbles to recover his composu

re. “It’s said that you wrote it in rehab. Is it about someone specific?”

Crap. The kid is better than I thought. He got his footing back and went straight in for the kill.

“It is.” I fold my hands and place them on the table, waiting for him to ask another question, refusing to do his work for him and make his job easy.

Leo’s mouth drops open in shock. He didn’t think I’d answer him, obviously. He’s gotten more of a response than anyone else who’s asked me that. “Care to elaborate?” I can see the excitement dancing in his eyes, at being the one to crack the ‘notoriously tight-lipped rocker’s’ mile-high walls.

Deciding I like Leo, I throw him a bone. “I let someone very important to me drift away. Well…” I stop and think for a moment, tapping on the table with one finger, “actually, I pushed her away. Then, I thought I got her back, but I guess the damage I’d done was too much.”

Taking in a deep breath, I continue, “Being sober forced me to figure out who I am and what I want. I don’t want to be that guy anymore.” I shrug. “The song is about what happened instead of what should have been.”

Leo’s eyes are as big as saucers at my admission. He struck interview gold and knows it. “Would you tell us who she is? I’m sure our readers want to know who the woman is that inspired that song, what she’s like.”

I shake my head and frown. “No, Leo. I’m not going to do that to her. You know full well what would happen if I gave you her name. She knows who she is.” My brows pull together as I think about it, “Well, I think she knows. Honestly, I haven’t spoken to her in years, so I haven’t a clue.”

“Well, if she’s heard the song, I’m sure she knows what it’s about.” Leo’s eyebrows rise as he waits for my reaction.

“Yeah, probably.” I drop my gaze and fiddle with my glass of water, not wanting to talk about Ellie anymore.

“So,” Leo takes the hint and moves on, “you’ve been in New York for the last three months recording your solo album, do you have any favorite haunts in the city?”

Smiling, I think about Sydney and the Village Coffee Bar, where I’ve meet up with her loads of times since we met in September. She’s so sweet and kind, and Leah, who owns the café, is always funny and not at all a star struck fan. They’re both like little sisters to me, especially Sydney, who reminds me so much of Ellie. I’ve stayed sober partly because of them. I want to protect them both, make their lives better. Maybe I can help them out by doing something nice.

“Well… I’ve been right busy, and the studio hours are really early, but Galaxy, a nightclub in SoHo is brilliant. And there’s a neat little café, the Village Coffee Bar, in the West Village that makes the best specialty croissants you’ve ever had.”

Leo laughs, “Who knew you were a croissant lover?”

“I know,” I laugh with him, smacking my abs. “I can’t eat too many, it’s too painful to sweat off later in the gym. I’m hoping to make it back to New York soon, because a friend of mine is redesigning Verve, the nightclub at the Warren Hotel, I’ve seen some of her work and she’s quite the talent. I’m keen on checking it out.”

“I’m sure the Warren will send you an invite to the opening,” Leo jokes.

“Hopefully,” I tell Leo, crossing my fingers in pretend excitement. I could care less about the club opening, I just want Sydney to have a great and successful night.

Leo finishes up with his questions and we eat the rest of our lunch without the recorder. He likes to discuss American football, which I know nothing about so we settle on discussing our favorite cities and the best places to go in each one.

Exhausted, I stand up and shake Leo’s hand. “Thanks Adam,” he says sincerely. “The article will be great. I’ll send a copy to your publicist to review before publication, but I’ve been told it’s next month’s cover story and you’ve already done the photo shoot, right?”

“I have. Last week, and thank you for being good company and knowing when to push and when to back off. You’re good at this, Leo.”

He smiles and I leave feeling good, something that doesn’t happen very often. I take it and embrace the happiness while it lasts, knowing it won’t last long.

“Have you seen my silver heels, honey?” Kiera comes out of the giant walk-in wardrobe in my hotel suite and begins searching the bedroom for her shoes.

“No,” I answer crossly. “Everything of yours that’s here is in the closet, I expect.” I wave my hand in the direction of the walk-in. She travels with way too many clothes. Kiera’s only in New York for the weekend to attend this big post-New Year’s party I promised Ross I would go to, and she brought three massive pieces of luggage with her.

“It’s good for your image, Adam. Get out there and mingle with the Hollywood ‘in’ crowd,” Ross said. “Kiera helps you with that now, the tabloids love you two together and that helps the band.”

Like I give a toss about the Hollywood crowd or tabloids. Plus, that prick Andrew Forrester is supposed to be there, and I still haven’t gotten over the way he had me shut out all those years ago. If I had been able to score just a single small role in a film, I might have had enough money to fly home and tell Ellie what an arse I was at that party and beg her forgiveness. He may very well have been the one who cost me my future with her.