and texted his brother.
That contract ready yet?
It only took a moment for Austin’s reply.
Yep. Sending in a few mins.
Adam smiled. The money he’d spent on his brother’s education hadn’t been wasted. Austin was a crackerjack lawyer and took care of every financial and legal aspect of Adam’s career. Adam trusted him more than anyone else in the world.
Turning back to his guitar, he strummed the last few chords before the bridge, hoping for inspiration. And, as happened sometimes, an idea struck, but before he’d had time to get it down on paper, his office door opened and his publicist, Bethany D’Angelo, walked in.
He looked up in annoyance. “Don’t you ever knock?” He didn’t try to hide his irritation.
She raised her eyebrows. “Aren’t we in a bad mood today?” Parking her backside on the corner of his desk, she crossed her legs and grinned at him. “Did we get up on the wrong side of the bed, sweetums?”
He gritted his teeth, hating the way she talked in the third person and called him various pet names. She was thirty-one years old, for God’s sake, and just because he’d stupidly become sexually involved with her a few months back didn’t give her the right to act as if she owned him. This wasn’t the first time he’d had the almost uncontrollable urge to fire her on the spot. But he stopped himself in time, and “I have a headache” was all he said.
“Oh, baby, I’m sorry. Did you take something for it?”
“Yes, I took something.”
“How about if I rub your shoulders and neck? That’ll help, too.” She dropped her voice to what she considered her sexy tone. “Then later, I could do something else for you, which I know would make you feel even better.”
“I’m having problems with this new song,” he said, just as if he hadn’t heard her, “and I was just about to have a breakthrough when you interrupted me.”
“Oh, you always say you’re having problems.”
There was something about her airy dismissal of his concerns that nearly pushed him over the edge, but once again, he managed to control himself. Maybe he was being unfair. Just because he was bored with their relationship and wanted out didn’t mean he was allowed to act like a total jerk and be nasty to her. After all, she hadn’t thrown herself into his bed. He’d made the first move. It wasn’t her fault he’d almost immediately known he’d made a huge mistake. So the right thing to do was tell her, straight-out, in a nice way, that from now on their dealings would be strictly business. Then, if she felt she couldn’t handle that change in their status, she would quit on her own. If not, they’d go forward as adults.
Forcing his voice into a more pleasant tone, he said, “Did you want something, Bethany?”
“As a matter of fact, I did. I wanted to remind you of your interview with Rolling Stone at seven tonight.”
“Oh, crap.” He had forgotten all about the interview.
“Now, Adam, landing the cover story of Rolling Stone is a remarkable coup for you. Coming on top of the People thing just a few months before the launch of your tour and a new album... Well, it’s fabulous!”
He sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But I hate interviews.”
“You’ve told me that a hundred times. And as I’ve told you, Aaron can’t do everything for you. There are some things you simply must do yourself.” Gone was the seductress voice. Now Bethany was all business.
In mentioning Aaron, she was referring to the fact that his youngest brother now functioned as Adam’s alter ego in matters of publicity, especially his online presence. Aaron, who at twenty-five was five years younger than Adam, pretended to be Adam on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram and Pinterest, in responding to various blogs and fan sites, as well as interacting with his fan clubs.
Adam hated all that garbage. Always had. He didn’t hate his fans, of course—he liked meeting them, especially at concerts—but if he spent all his time online and doing interviews, when would he be able to write his music? All he’d ever wanted was to write and perform, not blow his own horn about how great he was. It still amazed him that anyone cared about all that stuff entertainers posted. Hell, Aaron even told Adam’s followers what he, Adam, had supposedly eaten for breakfast!
“Yeah, I know he can’t,” he finally said.
Bethany studied him steadily. “So you won’t try to blow off the interview, right?”
“I guess not,” he said reluctantly. “But I’ll never change my mind that it’s the music that counts. Not all this other stuff.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m tired of this old argument, Adam. Yes, the music is important. Of course it is. But having your name and face out there, connecting with all those people who plunk down their money to buy your music and see your shows is equally important. In the long run, maybe even more important. And Rolling Stone! I mean, you’ve arrived. They hardly ever put a country star on their cover. The fact they want you means they consider you a crossover artist, and isn’t that what you wanted?”
Before he could answer, his cell rang and he saw it was Austin calling.
“Gotta take this,” he said, waving Bethany off.
Accepting the call, he said, “Hey, bro. What’s up? Thought you were gonna send over that contract.”
“I am. I will. But something’s happened,” Austin said.
“Oh?”
“Mom’s had a heart attack.”
“What?” Adam stood. “When?”
Bethany, alerted by his tone, frowned and got off his desk.
“Right after I texted you, she collapsed. I called 911 and I’m riding in the ambulance on the way to the hospital right now. They’ve got her stabilized but it’s pretty serious. I think you need to come.”
“Of course. You’re sure she’s gonna be okay?”
“They think so, but we’ll see what the docs say when we get there.”
“Okay. Keep me posted. I’ll try to get out on a flight tonight.”
“What?” Bethany said when he hung up. “What do you mean, get out on a flight tonight? You have that interview tonight, Adam!”
“This is more important.” He quickly explained what Austin had told him.
Bethany opened her mouth, probably to protest, but closed it again when she saw the look on his face. She sighed wearily. “Okay, I’ll call Rolling Stone and explain. Hopefully they can postpone the interview for a few days and still make their deadline.”
“Don’t make any promises. I have no idea how long I’ll be gone.” Adam was already packing up the stuff on his desk that he wanted to take with him.
“What do you mean? Surely you won’t be gone that long.”
His
