More Than Anything by R.E. Blake Page B

worst.”
    I figure out how to message it to Melody, and by the time we’re finished with our dessert, I’ve got a message back.
    I’m on the next flight. Don’t let him leave.
    I laugh as I read it. He gives me a puzzled look.
    “She says you have a nice smile.”
    He drops me off at the building, waits until I’m inside, and then roars away. I stand in the lobby, watching the big boat pull off, and wonder about what just happened. I’m only seventeen, and he’s…he’s a lot older. And I know it was just ice cream, but it didn’t feel like just ice cream.
    It felt like maybe he likes me. In a nonprofessional way.
    Which is crazy. He’s famous and successful and twenty-seven. I’m none of those things. Or maybe a little of the famous, but still.
    When I get into the apartment, I try Jeremy, but his phone goes to voice mail. He’s busy or asleep – good for him. I call Melody, and she picks up on the third ring.
    “Tell me you at least made out with him.”
    “Hi, Melody.”
    “You can’t send me pictures of yummy man candy like that and not have at least made a play.”
    “I figured you’d get a kick out of that.”
    “What’s wrong with you? He’s like a complete rock star in his own right. Look at those eyes. I could get lost in eyes like that…”
    “You just like the owner. You couldn’t care less about his eyes.”
    “Is he totally ripped? He looks like a dream. I bet he’s got a six-pack. How about tats? I’m a sucker for dreamboat blue eyes and bad-boy tats.”
    “You’re a sucker for anything in pants, Melody. It’s not like that. He’s producing me.”
    “Is that some kind of code? How can I get him to produce me? Again and again and again.” She holds the phone away from her mouth. “Produce me, you bad man. Produce me now. Harder. HARDER!!!”
    I wait until she’s finished giggling. “Derek called, but I missed it. I was at the show.”
    “I saw. You’re taking over Hollywood, and you’ve only been there twenty-four hours.”
    “More like thirty-something.”
    “I saw your table in a couple of the audience shots. Was that…”
    “Yup.”
    “And…”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “I am so flying down there tomorrow. If you’re going to let all women down and not do your moral duty by this Sebastian stud, I’ll sacrifice myself for the cause.”
    “What cause is that?”
    “Don’t backtalk me, young lady. I need some production. Tha’s right, big daddy Sebastian. Pro-DUCT-shun!”
    “Are you talking dirty to me?”
    This time our giggling doesn’t stop as easily, and I realize I’m flying from the sugar and champagne. I sign off and plug my phone in to charge, and can’t stop smiling until I’ve turned the lights off, Melody’s crude jokes echoing in my head. I wonder what Sebastian would think of how his latest act is talking about him, and decide that if he could get a look at Melody, he might not mind.
    Might not mind at all.

Chapter 10
     
    Steve’s waiting when I get downstairs the next morning, and we ride in silence to the studio. I see a Starbucks and ask him to pull over, and he nods, quiet as a ghost. I wonder if anything’s wrong, but it’s not my place to ask. So instead I run in, get a vente cup of coffee with a gallon of cream and a small truckload of sugar in it, and return five minutes later.
    We make it to the studio with two minutes to spare, and when I knock on the door, a rail-thin man with a goatee and long hair pulled back in a ponytail opens it.
    “Welcome. I’m John. Sebastian’s chief engineer. Come on in. He’s told me all about you.”
    “Nice to meet you, John.” I follow him back to the control room, where Sebastian is sitting in an executive chair, feet up on a milk crate, listening to music. He looks up when I come in and grins.
    “Welcome. Grab a seat. I want you to check this out.”
    He rewinds, and the playback begins again. It’s a ballad, a little country twang. It opens with the chorus, then drops into the verse. The