Page 18 of Protect Your Queen

The two of them discussed security, as I tried desperately to tune them out. If my brother was going to pretend I wasn’t there, then I would do the same. I hated how much Iwantedmy family here with me. But when they were here, I missed them even more than when they were gone.

“Where are you on this new album?”

“Huh?” I lifted my head as if I had just come out of a deep sleep.

“Where are you on the new album?” he said, slower, with a little more bite.

“I-I-I…” I had dismissed all the terrible pop songs they’d tried to send my way, and we were back at zero. “It’s coming along.”

That was a lie.

“How many tracks are finished? How much longer until the release? Do we have any other names to market…” My brother didn’t know shit about the music industry. Not really. He just knew business. Numbers. Marketing. “Return on Investment” was his favorite phrase. He could take a dollar, plant it in the ground, and a money tree would grow.

“I don’t know!” Ididknow. I knew it so well that I didn’t want to talk about it. I was behind. I was so far behind schedule that the label was talking about canceling the release until I had something more concrete to show them. The only thing that kept them from kicking me off the label was Michael Dryden himself.

But maybe they should cancel it. I had enough money that I’d never have to work in my life, so why didn’t I just do that? Just… disappear. Like Charlene after she released “I’ve Never Been to Me.” Now she was a business owner, somewhere in Fort Worth, Texas or something like that.

That seemed… nice.

“Jes, if you don’t release another album, you won’t get your momentum back. What have we been working for all these years?” Jareth said, slowly, quietly, as if he was pleading for me to understand what was at stake.

I knew what was on the line as well as he did. I just couldn’t get myself to do what I needed to. I was paralyzed. I felt like I was asleep, and knew I was in a nightmare. I could try to wake myself up, but each time I thought I had done it… I’d open my eyes and find myself in another dream, still asleep.

“Jes, not a lot of artists will recover from a long gap between releases.”

It was true. But it had been done. “Charlotte Gainsbourg had almost twenty years between her albums.”

“Charlotte Gainsbourg had famous parents, and an acting career.”

“Maybe I could do that, then,” I said slowly. “I can act.”

“You don’tlikeacting,” he said with a frustrated groan, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. “You love to sing. So why aren’t you singing?”

I didn’t know. The moment my dreams came true, the music just… stopped.

Chapter six

Close Your Mouth

Chris

Well, that introduction went over like a fart in church.

Itriedto be good and diffuse some of the tension, but all it did was turn those laser-focused, amber eyes in my direction. Her look scalded me. Literally, burning my skin. She made me feel like the human equivalent of a hernia.

She wasexactlyhow she portrayed herself in the media: a pain in the ass. She was combative and rude, and far more of a bitch than her looks could excuse. She was going to be a nightmare of an assignment.

The one saving grace of this gig - other than paying for Elyse to go to Julliard - was that the scenery was good. Not just the beach, and the mansion, or the swanky cars we’d be driving as a part of Jestiny’s entourage. No, the thing that was making me all gooey on the inside came with 88 ivories in pristine condition.

A black, beautiful, Baldwin Baby Grand piano stood in the place of honor in front of a small fireplace. It was in a space where the light from the windows wouldn’t touch it, standing below a vaulted ceiling. It was a good enough distance away from the fireplace that the flames couldn’t warp the wood, but close enough to be the centerpiece of the entire open plan living space.

I could practically hear the glorious acoustics. The moment everyone was asleep, I was going to sneak in and touch it. Some guys might get off on seeing tits. I salivate at the sight of a well-kept instrument.

I hoped that Diva Difficult didn’t have some paranoid rule about touching the thing, though, since she clearly had it placed with care. Then again, maybe she paid someone to do it. But I knew that in this case, with a beauty like that Baldwin, it would be better to ask for forgiveness than beg for permission.

The lid was open, showing off the beautiful, parallel mechanisms inside. I almost drooled at the idea of watching those levers and hammers moving in the rhythmic wave of a gorgeous song. My right hand tensed, and I felt the shortened, scarred tendons already protesting the workout Iwantedto give them. The music I wanted to make, but couldn’t, because of the fucking scar that planted a knife in my dreams.

“I don’t know!” Her voice sliced through my brain, and I realized that they were talking about her album.

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