Page 4 of Declan

I mean, she’s also engaged to some aging boy band blowhard named Bobby Schmidt, but that’s a minor detail more easily remedied than changing her deep feelings of hatred.

Not that I can’t work with those as well because if there’s one thing I’ve learned recently, it’s that the fine line between any intense emotion can be manipulated if you just put in a tiny bit of effort.

Also, I’m more of the ‘do what I want now and repent later’ type of guy, so here I am.

In terms of today’s lineup on the show, I’m more of a surprise guest, and I see Kylie working up to the big reveal, getting the audience amped up to know which so-called legendary rock star decided to make an impromptu appearance to sing a song with America’s Pop Princess.

The nervousness on her features excites me, and I find myself grinning in anticipation as Kylie heightens the crowd further, and Issa’s jaw clenches, her lips pressed together in worry.

Because she knows.

She knows the only notorious rock star who would make headlines doing an impromptu duet with her is me.

I enter from stage right before Kylie has fully said my name, waving to the crowd, smiling and engaging with the audience, being the type of rock star my manager has always dreamed about having. I have my acoustic guitar in hand, which I lean against the side of the couch as I move to greet Kylie with a cheek kiss and a hug, my smile genuine because Kylie is just a good person.

I turn to Issa, who’s still seated on the couch, wide-eyed and borderline grimacing, and I laugh. “Surprised to see this face, eh?”

She’s torn, that much is obvious, as she stares up at me with daggers in her eyes. My smile broadens, and I wait a few moments before she finally rises, holding her hand out to me as if I’ll shake it, which is an entirely ridiculous assumption on her part.

I lean in close and wrap my arms around her in one of those prisoner hugs I learned from my sister-in-law, Antoinette, so the fact that she’s frozen in my embrace is lost on the crowd because she can’t move her arms due to me having them pinned to her sides.

I let her go, stepping back a few inches so I’m still in her personal space, my hands moving to her biceps as I look her in the eyes and say, “Issa. Beautiful as always. So good to see you.”

I dip my head a fraction to test the waters, and sure enough, her eyes turn murderous, and I laugh again because I’m not stupid enough to try to kiss her in front of all these people—not that I didn’t think about it.

She moves to make room for me to sit close to Kylie, but I put my hand up and stop her and move to sit on the far side, so she’s forced to be included in our conversation.

Kylie doesn’t waste any time and jumps right in, “Declan Hughes. I feel like it’s been an age since I’ve had you here.”

I smile and return her enthusiasm. “It sure has, Kylie. But you know yours is an invitation I would never refuse.”

“Aww, Dec,” she says laughingly, waving a hand at me. “You’re just saying that. Everyone knows Declan Hughes is not a talk-show type of guy. And there’s no shame in that.”

“Well, this is true, but if you want to test my word, you just keep sending the invitations. Maybe they’ll turn this into the Kylie and Declan show.”

She bursts out laughing and looks over her shoulder at a group of suits who are sitting on the outskirts of the production, obviously seriously considering the idea. “Careful, Declan, or they’re gonna take that as a binding verbal contract.”

I make a comical grimace, then shut my mouth and make a zipping motion with my index finger and thumb, and the crowd laughs along with us.

Issa is sitting beside me, looking quite uncomfortable now, and I have to curb my urge to push her buttons. For now.

“Declan,” Kylie begins, drawing my focus back to her. “What have you been up to? Am I hearing correctly that we might get a new album soon?”

“Maybe. You know how it is. Don’t wanna give up too much information too soon because then somebody’s gonna hold you to it, and lord knows someone’s always looking for a reason to be mad.”

She nods emphatically. “Ain’t that the truth.”

“But I will say that I’m hard at work creating new sounds and writing new lyrics, trying to come up with something new and improved rather than the same old tired Declan Hughes bullshit.”

Issa’s eyes cut to me, narrowing as she recognizes her own words thrown back at her. I’m sure Kylie also knows, but she doesn’t let on, remaining the consummate professional she always is, and plows ahead, asking all sorts of questions about the business and avoiding things she knows I don’t want to talk about. This is one of the reasons I would never refuse an invitation to her show. She understands and respects boundaries, and the only time she’ll dig into personal things is if it’s approved ahead of time.

“This is a real treat having the two of you on the show, especially since the two of you are going to sing together. I have a feeling this is going to be on the newsreels for weeks to come.”

Issa laughs and waves her hand dismissively, saying, “I don’t know about that. I’m not prepared—“

“Oh, don’t worry, doll face,” I smoothly interrupt. “It’s just an acoustic rendition of a song you know by heart.”

She squints at me, obviously unconvinced, so I pick up my guitar and play the first chord toLeather and Lace, one of her favorite Stevie Nicks songs.

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