Page 11 of Hittin' the Right Note
“Well, that seems like a good place to end,” she said. “We want to thank Mikey for being kind enough to give us his time today. Maybe next time we’ll have you do a little performance.”
He gave Gina what he hoped was a convincing smile. “I’d love to perform on your stage sometime soon,” he said. “In fact, I’d consider it an honor.”
He’d consider it nothing of the kind, of course, but since he’d managed to get through the interview with minimal damage, he could be at least a little gracious.
Then the interview was over, he managed to make it off the set without having to have any further conversations with Gina LaBun, and he was soon in the car heading back to his own house. Tricia was along with him, of course, and so was Damian, his assistant and, next to Tricia, the one person who knew themost about him and had been with him since his early days in the industry.
Damian was a gay man and, though slightly older than Mikey, he looked like a man half his age. Slim and fit, he took care of himself, and his dark brown hair didn’t have a single strand of gray. Mikey privately suspected it was thanks to a very good dye-job, but he couldn’t deny Damian was handsome in a West Coast way. Something about him brought out the best in Mikey’s music and, just as importantly, kept the negative press at bay.
Damian had proven invaluable from the very beginning, when he swooped in and helped Mikey negotiate a new contract with his agent and the label. What’s more, he’d shown himself to be a wizard when it came to the press, and he always managed to make sure Mikey got the best coverage. Mikey had often thought Damian was interested in him sexually or romantically, but he’d wisely fended off those overtures. It was always a bad idea to sleep with members of your team.
Though God knew Damian acted like he was his boyfriend often enough.
“Well, that could certainly have gone worse,” he was saying. “Gina must have been in a good mood today. She hardly asked any hard questions. I was honestly expecting her to go a lot harder on the whole Luke angle.”
“I made sure she got some of her favorite chocolates delivered before the taping,” Tricia chimed in. “It never hurts to grease the wheels a bit and make sure your interviewer is in a good mood when you sit down next to her.”
Mikey tried not to roll his eyes. He knew both of them were only looking out for him–they were both very good at doing so–but he also thought it was a little ridiculous for someone like Gina LaBun to have to be treated with such kid gloves.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” Tricia said. “I know you don’t like her, but the truth is Gina is one ofthemost important people in the industry. If you hadn’t managed to do so well during the interview we would have spent the next month doing damage control, and we know none of us enjoy doing so.”
Mikey sighed. He hated to admit it, but Tricia was right, as usual.
“Just as importantly,” she was saying, “you did a really good job fielding the question about NACA. Sorry we didn’t get a chance to tell you about it before you were actually in the hot seat, but for what it’s worth I think you’re making a good choice going back there. It never hurts to do things for some good PR, and it sure seems like having you and Luke do a concert together is going to do the trick.”
She gave a laugh. “Who knows? You might even be able to write a little essay for some publication, keep the buzz going for the memoir. How does that sound?”
To his surprise, it actually sounded pretty damn good. The thought of being back in the same town as Luke, and of making music with him…it was more than Mikey dared to hope for. He had no idea whether it would all work out, no idea whether Luke would even speak to him again–let alone want to work with him on a concert–but just the possibility was enough to put butterflies in his stomach.
His mind flashed to what Luke looked like now, the way his youthful good looks had matured into a rugged sort of handsomeness–with a chiseled jawline, just the right amount of stubble, deep-set blue eyes, and full lips that only reluctantly smiled–and those butterflies started to swirl around even more.
I don’t know if you’re ready for this, Luke Carter,Mikey thought.But I definitely am.
CHAPTER 4
MIKEY—2005
At first Mikey isn’t sure what to make of Luke Carter. Luke is…unlike anyone else he’s met. He’s odd, and he sometimes seems like he’s afraid to be in his own skin. But he’s also irresistible. He’s like a little wounded bird, and Mikey wants to protect him. He gets the feeling he’s had to put up with his fair share of bullying. It’s there in the way he’s constantly looking around, like he’s afraid someone is going to start making fun of him, and it’s there in the way he always acts like anything he’s about to say isn’t worth saying. The thing is: Mikey wants to hear every word coming out of his mouth, no matter how silly it might be.
And, to be sure, Luke does say some silly things. He seems totally out of place in the Center, and a few times he lets slip things Mikey would probably find hilarious if they came from anyone else. When he says something about the fact the walls are painted, for example, he has to exercise some discretion in not telling Luke that of course they are.
At the same time, Luke also sometimes acts like a tough guy, putting up a macho front. Mikey isn’t entirely buying it, and the more time he spends with him, the more he sees the beautiful soul lurking behind the awkward machismo.
It certainly helps that Luke is quite handsome. There are already glimpses of the man he’ll grow into, and Mikey could stare into his deep blue eyes for hours. He has a nicely chiseled jaw, and his dark brown hair is just shy of black. With his plain T-shirt, jeans, and boots, he looks exactly like what he is: a good ole country boy.
Right now, for example, he’s talking about taking his horse out on the hills, and Mikey wonders just how it is that someone like this could have such a rich, deep voice and such a soul for music.
I guess I shouldn’t assume things about people,Mikey thinks.
“And let me tell you,” Luke says, “there’s nothin’ like the hills around here in the summer time. Huntin’, fishin’, and puttin’ in hay.” His voice has a dreamy quality, and Mikey finds himself caught up in the vision of the rural life Luke paints. “Then you come in from bein’ out in the fields, and sometimes my aunt will come by with a pitcher of her homemade iced tea, and it’s the perfect summer day.”
They’re sitting in one of the tiny alcoves scattered throughout the Center, and Luke is gazing off into the distance, as if he’s out in the field right now. Mikey imagines Luke’s arms bulging in his plain white T-shirt, his Wranglers hugging his hips, sweat beading on his brow and pouring down his face…
“Am I borin’ you?” Luke asks, breaking into his fantasy.
Mikey tries not to shake his head too firmly, and he gives Luke what he hopes is an engaging and disarming smile. It usually works to distract people, but Luke isn’t so easily fooled.
“Cut the shit,” he says, words echoing what Mikey was just thinking. “And cut out that damn smile. You look like a game show host.”
