Page 45 of My UnTrue Love
“Isthatwhy we do those?” Bill inquired, as if he’d previously had no clue why she’d asked him to shoot the instructional videos and he’d only done it because she told him to.
Clementine flashed him an exasperated look. “Yes, Bill. That is why we do those.” Not only did he not have his own social media linked to his phone, he didn’t even have the app to access it. Clem downloaded it for him, so he could see his Ti-Yi-Yo account. …Apparently for the very first time. “You’ve really never looked at yourself online?”
“Why would I?”
“Because it’s important for your career. Just like I told you thelasttime you asked that.”
“A lot of our early conversations are lost to me forever, because your smile wiped out my language skills. It took me a while to learn how to deal with it.”
Clementine positively melted, forgetting she was still slightly miffed at him. Bill was so cute when he teased her.
“Well, I said I’d post stuff for you, just to make sure you had some exposure. And you said I could do anything I wanted, so long as you didn’t have to ‘deal with nobody.’ Again, your exact words.” Finally getting his profile open, she handed him back his phone. “I’ve got you up to ‘whoopie’ status, by the way.”
“Huh.” That sound meant he had no clue what “whoopee status” was.
“It’s very high engagement.” She translated. “People like you. A lot.”
Bill stared down at the screen, which featured dozens of pictures of him hanging around the studio, and videos of him playing guitar, and a lot of close-ups of desert vegetation, just because Clem thought they were pretty.
His mouth curved. “I sure am partial to black-and-white shots of plants, aren’t I?”
“Youlovethem. It’s like an addiction, I think.” She leaned forward on the counter, her expression full of mock gravity. “Stop with all the arty cactus pictures, Bill. Please. It’s getting embarrassing.”
His smile grew wider, because he liked it when she teased him back.
“You see the problem, right?” Rosalee prompted with no consideration for the maybe-kind-of-flirting happening around her. “Retract that statement about you leaving The Yellow Roses. It’s completely inappropriate.”
“How is it inappropriate?” Clem demanded. “I explained that Bill was going to be embarking on a solo career, and invited fans to see him at the Lone Prairie.”
“You made it sound like he’d been fired! That isn’t going over well. Apparently, Bill is very popular.”
“Well, I’m at ‘whoopie’ status.” Bill bragged, scrolling through all the posts he’d never seen before. “Look how I’m always online, interacting with folks. Says here, I’m teachin’ an after-school music class every Tuesday.”
“Wednesday.” Clem corrected. “It’ssoimportant to encourage young talent. Your videos really inspire them.”
Rosalee ignored that truth. She probably hated children and animals and old people. “The Yellow Roses’ social media has been inundated with complaints. Even Vulture Valente is starting to cover it.” Vulture Valente ran an internet account, disseminating gossip about the local music scene. “Fans are threatening a boycott in solidarity with Bill.”
That was gratifying to hear. “Billshouldbe missed by the fans. He’s a genuine, wonderful person and his guitar playing helped make the album a success.”
If Rosalee was packing a pistol, Clem would be shot right between the eyes. “Billquit.” She hissed. “He needs to make that clear, so the rest of the band isn’t blamed for his own choices. If he doesn’t fix this mess, we might be forced to sue.”
“Sue? For what? Improper use of emojis? Typos with intent to…?” She broke off when fiddle music came through the too-thin wall. Clem’s head whipped around, her lips parting in amazement. “He listened to me!”
Bill was busily typing on his phone. “I always listen to you, darlin’. Except when your smile blinds me and…”
“Not you, silly. Luke!”
Bill’s attention jerked away from the screen, the second she said another man’s name. “Luke?” Russet brows compressed and his gorgeous voice went darker. “Who’s Luke?”
“The boy in 2B.” She tapped her ear knowingly. “His playing is already better, right? I knew it would be.”
Bill sat up straighter. “The coyote next door talked to you?” He asked like maybe he’d misunderstood. “Alone?”
“Honestly,Idid most of the talking. But I think he might’ve listened. I got him a new bow and he’s actually usingit.” Some of the notes were flat, but still she heard that touch of magic. That specialka-pow!in Luke’s distinct sound. “I’m so encouraged.”
“I’m not. I don’t want you near him.”
She made a face. “He’s about sixteen, Bill.”
