Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109318 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109318 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Beat looked down at Melody. She met his eyes, searched them.
How deep were they willing to let people in?
“Thirty years have passed since it happened,” Danielle said, speaking with her hands. “Thirty. Years. The public’s adoration for this band knows no bounds and they—we—have never been given a satisfactory explanation. Granted, we might not be owed one. But it would be a shame to leave it a mystery forever. Was a love triangle the culprit? Some other kind of betrayal?” Slowly, Danielle came around the desk, the cameraman stepping out of her way without looking. “You never asked to carry around the burden of this knowledge, but you’ve been pestered about it your whole lives. Day in and day out for three decades. You have the power to release yourselves from that.”
Him? Burdened? Try the opposite. Blackmailer notwithstanding, Beat had everything he could ever want. Friends who cared about him, a thriving career, comfort, opportunities. However, he couldn’t discount Danielle’s words entirely, because he had more than just himself to consider. He and Melody had been placed in a position to be questioned since birth about why the band broke up. And while he could take it, could handle the constant badgering for the rest of his life, he wouldn’t have minded ending it for Melody, right then and there.
The thought of making life even a fraction more enjoyable for her made him feel a hell of a lot lighter. But more than likely, the live stream could have the opposite effect and create an entirely new thirst for details. Oh, and his mother would probably stab him, so there was that.
“That’s not our story to tell,” Beat said finally, looking at Melody and winking where the camera couldn’t see. “But we have others.”
So easily did she read his meaning. Stories. They could get through this without revealing too many truths while still keeping things interesting, couldn’t they? It might even be fun. “Oh yeah,” Melody said, winking back. “Stories you won’t believe.”
“Cut!” Danielle squeaked. “Get it to the team,” she whispered to Joseph. “We’re going to get this up on all network socials immediately with a drop-in about the live stream starting Friday. That was our hook—and it was more like a harpoon.”
The cameraman lowered the piece of equipment from his shoulder and Beat and Melody got a look at the guy’s Gerard Butler look-alike face for the first time. Joseph gave Danielle a once-over, a succinct nod—and then he threw a fond grin at Melody.
Melody smiled back.
“One more condition,” Beat said, without thinking. “I want a different cameraman.”
Joseph laughed on his way out the door.
Danielle watched him go with a cross between hostility and reluctant interest. “Don’t worry, he’s professional to a fault. The best in the business if you disregard his cynical ogre vibe. He gets the work done and goes home, wherever that may be.”
Beat suspected Danielle might have an idea where Joseph lived, but he’d be keeping that theory to himself. Or so he thought. Melody subtly elbowed him in the ribs and gave him a tiny eyebrow waggle, to let him know she’d picked up on the romantic tension, too. How did they seem to be on the same page so easily?
What if the next thirteen days weren’t such a hassle after all?
What if he . . . enjoyed them because he was with Melody?
Just don’t enjoy them too much.
“So . . .” Melody started, blushing. Probably because he was staring at her like he was trying to count her eyelashes. Did she know how pretty she was? “What’s next?”
Danielle let the silence stretch until Beat managed to stop actually counting Melody’s eyelashes, the producer not quite managing to hide her amusement. “Go home and get some rest. Meet back here on Wednesday morning for your promotional confessionals. I’d planned to do them separately, but I’ve changed my mind. We’re going to do a joint interview. You’re incredible together.” Danielle didn’t break for air while Beat and Melody traded a fleeting, but heavy, look. “Due to simple geography, Beat, I think we should approach your mother about the reunion first.”
“Fuck.”
Melody giggled.
The producer picked up her phone and tapped a few times on the screen. “According to Octavia’s social media, she has a gala Friday evening to benefit her foundation.”
“Yeah,” Beat confirmed with a sigh. “I should know. I’m the one who organized it.”
“That’s where we’ll strike.” Danielle smiled, waved her hands innocently. “Or get the show on the road. However you’d like to term it.”
“Tempt death,” Beat suggested. “Inflict betrayal.”
“Wreck the halls?” This from Melody. “Too bad my mother isn’t a nudist anymore. There would have been nowhere to hide weaponry.”
A cough snuck out of him, then expanded into a full-on belly laugh. How was he laughing right now? He’d just agreed to his—and Melody’s—privacy being invaded straight through Christmas Eve.