They cut, and before Jimmy can even stand and hold out his hand for a shake, Lucky is gone. She storms off the stage the way we came in.
“Guess she’s a little pissed,” I tell Jimmy as I shake his hand.
His eyebrows go up. “You think?”
“Thanks, man. And send me a link to that schoolroom tape.” I grin. “Might want to take some of that shit on the road.”
I head backstage and poke my head into the Green Room. There’s some actor I’ve seen in some stuff back there with his entourage, but no Lucky.
“Great take, Tro.”
I turn and find Pete coming up the hall toward me. “Yeah, thanks,” I say, looking over his shoulder toward the elevators.
“Can we get you back here after your next release?” he asks.
“Sure, man,” I say, taking his outstretched hand and shaking. “Hey, you know where Lucky went?”
He cracks a grin. “Lucky?”
“Yeah, the girl who’s—”
“I know who you mean, dude, and she slammed out the door and was on an elevator less than a second after we cut.”
“Guess I might have pissed her off a little.”
He cracks up. “A little maybe.”
I turn for the elevators and give him a wave over my shoulder. “Guess I’ll just have to find a way to make it up to her.”
The one I’m thinking of at the moment involves pinning her up against a backstage wall again. And with just the thought, I’m hard as stone for her.
I can’t even remember the last time I had blue balls, but fucking Lucky is giving me the worst case I’ve ever had, and we just fucking met.
Chapter 4
Shiloh
I yank open the door to the waiting limo and dive in the back before the driver can even react. I find out Billie is right behind me when I start to slam the door and it jerks out of my grasp.
“Well, that was a nice little temper tantrum,” she scolds. “You over it now?”
I press into the seat and fold my arms over my chest. “He totally humiliated me.”
She turns to the driver, who’s now standing behind her in the door. “Take us back to the hotel, please.” She shoves me over and slides in next to me. “He’s just trying to get into your head so you don’t upstage him on tour. Marking his territory, like peeing on a fire hydrant.”
“And I’m the hydrant in this scenario?” I ask with a glare.
She gives me an exasperated look. “My point is, just treat him like a big, stupid dog. He’s doing it to get a rise out of you. If you don’t react, he’ll stop.”
“That was The Tonight Show!” I say with a fling of my hand at Rockefeller Center as we pull onto the street. “How many people watch that? Thousands? Hundreds of thousands? And that douche made me look like an idiot.”
“You were fine, Shiloh,” she says, looping her arm over my shoulders and tugging me close. “But in this business, you’re going to have to grow a thicker skin. So far you’re a media darling, but at some point, people are going to start criticizing. If you show weakness, they go for the jugular and it becomes a feeding frenzy. Whether it’s someone like Tro Gunnison, who’s just looking for publicity, or some other artist who’s jealous of your success, or your producers who aren’t with you artistically, or the media just looking for a story, you have to learn to let the jabs and criticism roll off and don’t take the negative to heart.”
I tip my head back and grind my teeth. “I hate him.”
She presses her lips to my temple. “Guess you’re not over that tantrum after all.”
I don’t move except to settle into her a little. We weave our slow way through New York City traffic. It’s only a few blocks to the hotel, but it takes forever.
“What would you think if I filed for legal guardianship?” Billie asks as we sit at a light.
Her words send a jolt of…what? Panic? Not exactly. But not excitement either.
Hope. Her words send a jolt of hope through me that makes me feel like I’m going to throw up.
When I was little, I used to fantasize that my mom would come for me. I used to waste hours imaging our happy reunion and how we’d leave San Francisco and live in a white house with a big yard and have a dog. I think I got that from watching too much Nickelodeon.
I thought I was too old for that stupid fantasy now.
“Why would you want to do that?” I ask without looking at her.
She peels me off, though I now seem to have a death grip on her, and looks into my eyes. “You don’t want me to?”
I breathe deeply when I realized I’ve stopped. I’m long past thinking there’s any chance my real mom is coming for me, and Billie’s the closest thing I’ve ever had. She’s been fair and I know she cares about me.