Stop right there.
They were going to be spending a lot of time together over the course of the next thirteen days and he could not, would not, lay a fucking finger on Melody. She claimed she was participating in this sideshow to separate her finances from her mother’s, but . . . he had strong suspicions that Melody was also doing this for him, too. Which meant he needed to be grateful and protect her at all costs. In other words, keep his hands to himself.
Personal life and sex life. Never the twain shall meet.
Now was not the time to start breaking his own rule.
“What important details?” Danielle asked, clapping once. “Let’s knock this out.”
The cameraman chuckled.
Danielle shot the man a pointed look.
Was there a little . . . tension in the room between Danielle and Joseph? It appeared so, but Beat didn’t have time to focus on it now. “First off, I want security for Melody. A lot of it.”
Melody poked Beat in the side. “What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me.” She tried to protest, but he spoke over her, though he gave her a quick shoulder squeeze to apologize. “Filming stops at night. We’re going to need downtime.”
Danielle nodded. “Like I said, we’ll be shooting you twelve to fourteen hours a day.”
“Great.”
“And I think I speak for both of us when I say, make sure you book a backup act for Christmas Eve, because if our mothers agree to share a stage again, we will have witnessed a divine miracle.”
“There are four other acts to carry the show, if the reunion doesn’t happen. Not that they’ll live up to Steel Birds, but the show must go on.”
“Good, because seriously, Beat is right about us performing a miracle. They haven’t seen one like this since the Bible,” Melody said, backing up Beat. “Growing up, my mother had a Steel Birds accolades room and Octavia’s face had been slashed to ribbons in every picture. A veritable museum of hatred.”
“My mother took ten years of primal scream therapy after the Concert Incident. In the house. We had a scream closet. I have actually never said Trina’s name out loud, because it was forbidden in our home.” He pointed at his mouth. “That was it. First time I’ve ever said it.”
Melody tilted her head at him. “How did it feel?”
“Like . . . relief. I always assumed it would set off a plague of locusts or cause mountains to collapse.”
“Quick. Someone check on Machu Pichu,” Melody said, pointing to the desk phone.
“This is going to be gold,” Danielle breathed, shoving the cameraman’s shoulder. “You keep filming. We can use the footage as promo. You two—keep talking. There has been so much speculation about the Steel Birds breakup, but since none of the finer details were ever made public, those details are largely guesswork.”
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.”
Wreck the Halls
Tessa Bailey's books
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- Rough Rhythm: A Made in Jersey Novella (1001 Dark Nights)
- Thrown Down (Made in Jersey #2)
- Disorderly Conduct (The Academy #1)
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