It’s a good plan, there’s no denying it. Still, I find it funny how he acts like it’s all for my benefit, like he doesn’t get a hefty chunk of the cut. Maybe I’ve never been to his house, but my guess is, he’s living large.
“How come you never invite me over to your house?” I shield my eyes from the sun as I follow him and Tinsley outside. “How come you’re always at my house and I’m never at yours?”
“You want to come over?” Ezer pauses before his big black Escalade.
I nod, my gaze never once veering from his. I want to see where he lives. Maybe get a peek at Tinsley’s room. Any excuse to be near her and hopefully finish the moment I started at the party.
“Well, all right, then. Why don’t you stop by for dinner tonight?”
I hold his gaze, not sure I trust that it’s really that easy. But when I switch to Tinsley and see her smile excitedly, that’s when I realize just how paranoid working with Ezer has made me.
“Great,” I say. “See you at seven.”
Just as I figured, Ezer is living the good life.
His house is big. Sprawling. Like a castle, with lots of stone and big turrets. The only things missing are a drawbridge and a moat filled with alligators.
First thing I do when the maid answers the door and leads me inside is check for cameras.
Did I mention how paranoid he’s made me?
If there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that Ezer wouldn’t dream of missing a filmable moment for the Twelve Days of Dashaway Christmas Countdown, but for tonight anyway we seem to be clear.
Guess he values his own privacy more than mine.
The maid directs me to the den, where Tinsley sits on the couch near the fireplace, strumming her guitar and singing softly, as though she hasn’t just spent the entire day doing just that, while Ezer barks into his cell phone from somewhere in the next room.
“Nick—hey, I’ll just be a sec.” He butts his head in, fixes a hand over the speaker as he whisper-yells, “Why don’t you two practice a bit?” Then, before we can answer, he’s back to yelling into his phone.
Tinsley slides over, making room for me. She starts from the beginning as I clear my throat, wait a few beats, then pick up on cue. She looks so pretty in her blue dress, with her hair falling in soft waves around her face, it’s all I can do to keep my focus on singing. With our voices blending so well, I’m kind of lost in the music when Ezer appears before us, claps his hands loudly, and says, “That’s it. That’s exactly what I’m looking for. Now, if you can just duplicate that at the studio tomorrow, we’ll be swimming in platinum!”
I close my eyes and groan. I’m so sick of the studio. While it’s nice having access to Tinsley for hours on end, it’s mostly spent working. Not to mention that there’s no way I’ll ever get to kiss her in that boring, sterile room that’s always crowded with Ezer and sound geeks.
“But that’s enough shop talk for today,” he says. “Let’s get you two fed. You’re going to need plenty of energy for tomorrow.” He herds us into a dining room that fits right in with the modern castle theme, with its supersized table, big iron candelabras running down the center, heavy wood chairs with legs carved like claws, and so many heaping platters of food it’s hard to take them in all at once. When Ezer takes his place at the head, lowering himself onto a large velvet cushion, the only thing missing is a crown.
Even though I kind of make fun of him and his castle house in my head, I have to admit, the food is really good and the conversation’s not nearly as boring as I expected. Maybe it’s the luxury of actually sitting down to a meal as opposed to always eating on the run, maybe it’s the goblet of wine in Ezer’s hand—whatever the cause, pretty much for the first time ever, Ezer loosens up and actually talks about stuff that has nothing to do with untapped endorsement possibilities, the show’s ratings, or the number of units “Twelve Days” has sold on iTunes.
It’s so nice hanging out like this, almost like we’re a family, that I find myself wishing I could stretch each moment just a little bit longer so the night would never have to end. It also makes me determined to spend more time with my actual family, since the only time I ever get to see them is when we’re filming the show, and even then every moment is micromanaged and scripted. Once, when I complained to Ezer, he claimed he had no choice but to keep us apart. They’ll just get in the way, he said, which doesn’t make any sense. From what little time I’ve spent with them, they seem really nice and supportive, always willing to pitch in and help. Holly included, which is not something I could ever say about the Greentree Holly.
I’m beginning to think Ezer has major control issues.