Ones who affect me as much as Will does? I haven’t met any of those yet. I’ll just have to hope.
“This was supposed to be a week for you to relax,” Brooke says, looking sad. “I’m sorry it went sideways.”
I look up at the jungle foliage that shadows the drive. The leaves sway in the breeze, which carries the salty scent of the ocean even on this side of the resort. It mingles with the sweetness of the tropical flowers in the air. I draw it into my lungs as deeply as I can. As I exhale, a knot inside me lets go at the same time.
“No,” I say. “It’s all right. I still had an amazing time. One wrong thing can’t ruin all the rest. Especially when the rest included the most gorgeous wedding I’ve ever had the honor of attending.”
Brooke grins. “It wouldn’t have been half as much fun without you there with me.”
“Of course it wouldn’t have.” I tap my elbow against hers. “Don’t get into too much trouble with your new husband now that you’re left to your own devices.”
Just as the courtesy car pulls up, Maggie and Lulu come dashing out. “Oh, is there room in that one for us?” Lulu exclaims.
“I think I can manage to share,” I grin.
There are more hugs and goodbyes. Then the three of us pile in. I turn to wave to Brooke through the back window, and to get one last look at the little kingdom Will built. My throat tightens with regret.
Whatever we had, whatever it meant, it was sweet while it lasted.
“All right,” I say to the driver, swallowing back a pang. “We’re ready to go.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Two weeks later, the vacation feels like a dream. I’m back in LA, and back to work—and all my plans for PR domination. “And he’s got no idea?” I check, asking the producer’s assistant. “You’ve all managed to keep it under wraps?”
I have to lean close for her to hear me over the din of the TV studio. She answers with a jerky nod, and I smile. Perfect.
She scurries off, so I turn back to my client. Kenneth Romano is practically bouncing on his feet in anticipation. He’s wearing his standard “stage outfit” of baggy jeans and jersey, his hair gelled and his tough-guy expression in place. None of it stops me from seeing that eager glitter in his eyes. There’s an excited kid hiding under the swagger.
In theory this is a small-time gig: the entertainment segment on a local news show. They called to set up this interview a few days after his YouTube mash-up went so viral the karaoke recording that inspired it was left eating its dust. But it’s the first time he’ll be broadcast from a set that’s not inside his house—one step closer to the stardom he’s dreamed about. And there’s a very special surprise on the way.
“Five minutes,” one of the crew calls over to us. The glitter in Kenneth’s eyes turns slightly panicked.
“What if they don’t get, like, this, Ruby?” he says, gesturing to said outfit. “Me. My music. I mean, no offense, but this set-up is pretty . . . mainstream.”
Oh, kid, so edgy it’s cute. “I think they can handle your brand of out-of-the-box,” I reassure him. “You’d better believe they watched some of your other videos before deciding to invite you on.” I reach over to knuckle his arm. “You were real with your fans about the mainstream music you like, so be real with these guys about the rest of you. I’ll be right here if you need me.”
He shifts his weight from foot to foot. A grin stretches across his face. “A lot more people are going to know who I am after this.”
“You’d better believe it. You’ve got this, Mr. Krunk.”
He rolls his eyes at me, but his grin doesn’t budge.
Mr. and Mrs. Romano close in for last-minute encouragement and hand squeezes that Kenneth brushes off with a protest of “Mo-om.” Then he’s called on. He saunters over to his interview chair with a full heaping of sixteen-year-old bravado.
I head over to the screens where a guy with a headset is picking promo clips from the footage so far. “Not that one,” I say when he lingers on one where Kenneth is making a goofy face I know he’d cringe at. “Those other two I have no problem with.”
“Noted,” he says. “I got my instructions to run the final clips past you before they air.”
On the set, Kenneth’s voice breaks with a stutter. His hands clench. I wave to him from behind the cameras and offer a thumbs-up. He catches my eye and gathers himself. And then I see my surprise walking up on the other side of set.
“We’ve arranged an additional special guest here today,” one of the hosts says to Kenneth. “We were all so impressed by your performance, we just had to reach out—and it turns out someone else was very impressed too.”
Technically I reached out, but whatever, let them have a bit of the glory.
“Hey, Kenneth the Krunk,” Harlan Everett says as he steps onto the stage.
Kenneth’s eyes just about fall out of his head. He jumps out of his chair. “Harlan—Mr. Everett—” He catches himself, lifts his chin, and offers his hand. “It’s really great to meet you.”
“Same to you,” Harlan says with drawl. “Now, after I saw how you handled my song on your own, I can’t help wondering what we could come up with if we came at it together. What do you say to putting on a little show with me right here?”
Pure joy that lights up Kenneth’s face. “Yeah,” he says. “That would be awesome.”
It is. The performance goes off without a hitch, and everyone in the studio is smiling by the time they’re done recording. I just know this thing will be YouTube gold. I wouldn’t be surprised if Harlan’s record label decide to cut a special-edition duet, since I’ve been hearing they want to cross over to a younger audience . . . Not to mention the CMA awards are coming up. The PR possibilities are endless.
Kenneth practically bounds off set to rejoin his parents. “Holy crap!”
Mrs. Romano winces a bit at the not-really-a-swear, but she restrains herself from chiding. Good mom. “You were amazing, honey,” she gushes instead.
As I’m walking with them out of the building, my phone buzzes. “To the first of many TV appearances,” I say to Kenneth. “And many more awesome duets.” He high-fives me and waves good-bye. Then I pause in the studio lobby to see what new catastrophe has landed in my lap.
It’s the exact opposite of a catastrophe, actually. Brooke has posted the highlights of the wedding photos.
I can’t help but smile as I flip through them. The photographer caught all the best moments, goofy and romantic. There’s the bunch of us girls having a blast on the beach. Trevor and Brooke holding hands and laughing, and just behind them, Will catching me from behind, his chin tucked over my shoulder.
We’re looking at each other like there’s no one else in the world.