you tell me about high school? Everyone has good stories about that time in their life.”
Shit, that topic’s not any better.
“No?” she says at my hesitation. “All right, I’ll go. But one of these days you’ll open up to me, Christopher Rewey.”
My heart stops beating, and I’m sure my face goes ashen. She called me Christopher.
“What is it?” she asks. “Your beer not sitting well?”
I take a few long swallows. “It’s fine. Tell me some stories.”
She talks about her best friend, Hannah, who moved away senior year, leaving her high and dry. About singing in the choir. About the awkward way she lost her virginity. About letting go of the disdain she had for her father.
Letting go.
As she tells me more about her dad, I hear lyrics in my head.
’Cause letting go is a fatal blow
I pull out my notebook. “I have to jot something down. Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. It drives my friends crazy when I do that, but I totally get it. She scoots closer. “Can I see?”
I close the book. “It’s not our stuff, it’s…” I have no idea how to explain it without giving it away.
Her lips form a thin line and then she sighs. “A fucked-up mess?”
I nod as our pizza is put on the table.
Chapter Nineteen
Bria
It seems strange to leave the city with Crew after being banished to my apartment for a week to finish our songwriting. We did, though. We finished everything, and now we have thirteen songs for the new album. The guys should be happy, and we can get back to rehearsing again. Right after we meet our new IRL rep, Veronica Collins.
“You ready for this?” Crew asks.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I’ve heard record label reps can be intimidating.”
“More intimidating than Jeremy? I doubt it. Plus, with a name like Veronica, she’s probably old. Who names their kid Veronica?” I pull up to the barn near a sleek red Porsche parked next to Jeremy’s SUV.
Crew turns to me. “Old, huh?” He opens the door for me.
He’s been very nice to me this past week. Opening doors, pulling out chairs, paying for meals. But one thing he hasn’t done is kiss me again. It’s my own fault for telling him we should concentrate on the album and let everything else wait.
“Welcome!” someone chirps in a high-pitched and somehow totally condescending voice.
The voice belongs to a woman with stick-straight black hair that falls to the middle of her back. Her designer blouse reveals a hint of cleavage, her tight pencil skirt matches the color of her hair, and she’s got legs up to there.
Crew and I share a look. Definitely not old. I’d be surprised if she was thirty.
“You must be Brianna,” she says, quickly giving me the once-over. “And you” —she eyes Crew up and down— “your pictures don’t do you justice.” She picks up his hands, holds out his arms, and shamelessly ogles his body. “This I can work with.”
“Please call me Bria. It’s nice to meet you, Veronica.”
“Ronni,” she says to me before her eyes go back to devouring Crew. “Jeremy has told me all about you. I’m eager to get started. Come.”
She leads us over to the common seating area and pulls Crew down on the couch next to her, forcing the rest of us to take the chairs. I don’t miss Liam’s eyes on me. Apparently, I’m not the only one weirded out by Little Miss Red-Porsche’s behavior.
Jeremy is perched on a barstool. He nods hello and gives Ronni the floor.
“A few things,” she says. “First we’re going to need one more song for the album.”
“We have thirteen,” Garrett says.
“Uh, ahyaaaah,” she says melodramatically. “Why do you think we need one more? It’s bad luck to put thirteen songs on an album.”
“Bad luck?” I say incredulously. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Yes, Brianna. Bad luck.”
“It’s Bria.”
“What’s that?” she asks, seemingly uninterested in anything but Crew’s bulging arms.
“Everyone calls me Bria.”
She sniffs in disapproval. “Not anymore. Bria is too cutesy. From now on you’ll be Brianna Cash. It’s a strong name. A recognizable one.”
I point at Crew. “What about him? He’s got a nickname.”
“Crew,” she says, musing aloud. “Also strong and recognizable. It’s fine.”
I snort. “Of course it is.”
“He’ll be billed as Chris Rewey on the album,” she says. “But he’ll be referred to as Crew for all other intents and purposes.” Her sculpted lips curl into a cruel smile. “How long will it take you to write another song, Brianna?”
“I don’t know, Veronica. A day? A week? It’s not like we can just pull