I glance over and find him in the hallway, leaning on the wall, partially hidden by mid-afternoon shadows.
“It is. I think.” I relay everything Marilyn told me.
“How are you going to find the time to be on two shows?” he asks mildly.
For some reason, the question ignites my insecurities. About my career, our relationship…everything. “I’ll figure it out if I get the part, I guess.”
He grunts in response.
“Are you…mad at me?” I ask.
He doesn’t immediately answer no, which unleashes more anxiety.
“I’m tired from the trip home.” He yawns and stretches as if to punctuate his explanation.
“I take it that means you want to stay in tonight?”
“Why? What did you have in mind?”
“Nothing. I thought you’d want to get together with the guys…or…?”
“Fuck that. I’ll see enough of them in the next couple weeks.” He holds his hand out to me. “I want to soak up as much time with my girl as possible.”
That’s better. “You’re not tired of me? We just spent a solid week together.”
He steps closer. “I’m never tired of you.”
“You seem…annoyed.” I don’t know why I’m persisting but I can’t stand the uneasiness hanging in the air. Not with Chaser.
He blows out a frustrated breath and bounces the side of his fist against the wall. “I’m pissed I have to leave. I wish we were recording the album here like we’ve done all the others. Figures now that I don’t want to leave Hollywood, I have to.”
“Oh.” I breathe out a relieved sigh and move closer to him. “You trust Mark, though, right?”
“Don’t know. I’ve never worked with him before.”
“But it was a big deal to get him to work with Kickstart.”
“It was,” he agrees.
I bite my lip and glance away, worried Chaser might misinterpret my words. “Trust. You told me he’s been in the business for a long time and has produced a lot of mega-successful albums, right?”
Instead of answering, he nods slowly.
“Everyone’s still sober, right?”
“More or less.”
“Well, the change of scenery, the new producer, everyone coming to the table with clear heads, maybe all those combined factors will spark true sonic greatness.”
One corner of his mouth lifts. “Sonic greatness, huh?”
“Sonic awesomeness?”
“Why do you have to do that?” He wraps me up in his arms. “Just when I think I have a handle on how much I’m going to miss you.”
“What?”
“You go ahead and come up with sonic awesomeness and I don’t know how I’m supposed to leave you again for another four weeks.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Mallory
“Geez, Mallory. Did you partake in a lot of home cooking while you were away on your rock star vacation?”
As nice as I’ve tried to be to the wardrobe girls, they still hate my guts. A few weeks off didn’t mellow them out one bit. Donna’s the worst, though. She makes a big show of sighing and tugging on the straps of my bathing suit. It doesn’t feel snugger to me, but she continues grumbling about having to “go up a size.”
I pat my hip as my mouth curls into a slow smile. “My man can’t keep his hands off me, and that’s all I care about.” With a quick toss of my hair, I execute a spin and strut out of the dressing room without falling out of my flip-flops. Yay, me!
Heart still pounding—I hate confrontation—I make my way to the makeup room, searching for Cindy.
“What did deplorable Donna have to say today?” she asks as soon as she sees the defeat that must be etched on my face.
“Well,” I answer with a dramatic flourish of my arms, “Apparently, now I’m fat. She needs to order me a bigger swimsuit.”
Cindy gives me a critical once-over and I try not to flinch. “She’s a jealous bitch. Your suit is fine.” She stares at me a little longer, then smiles. “Except for that bride-to-be glow, you look the same as you did before you left.”
I swear, some days, Cindy is the only reason I haven’t walked off the set and quit. “Thank you.”
Marilyn might have said if I get the part on the new show, I can still be on this one, but there’s no way I’ll sign on to take more of this crap for another season. I don’t want to pin all my hopes on the new show—who knows, it could end up being worse—but I’m really looking forward to the audition.
Cindy pulls me out of my musings by waving a pan of makeup at me. “It’s the nice thick, waterproof stuff. You have a