It seemed quite unnecessary now, though. JC knew where he could go and not be bothered. Maybe no one cared who he was… but no one bothered her either, even after she lowered her hoodie and removed her ball cap and sunglasses. JC picked on her and said she “looked like the UnaBomber with all that shit on.”

Callie didn’t quite know what to make of JC. She’d have to be dead to not think he was handsome, but he was hard to read, and not that she was or had time to be interested. From the start of her career, Callie had become sensitive to people trying to get close to her because they thought they’d receive benefits of being her friend. All of her old girlfriends had fallen away after realizing they weren’t all getting cars and jewelry from Callie now that she’d hit it big. Anyone new who came into her life received the cold shoulder until they more than proved they were after more than being able to say they know her.

JC was obviously looking for a career-boosting hit—but unlike her other hangers-on, he was helping her create one. He hadn’t asked her for a thing except for her to dig into her craft and create something that made her happy, meant something to her. JC seemed laid back, unassuming, a hard worker and very likeable. So damned likeable that it unnerved Callie. She was used to her brazen attitude keeping people at arm’s length. That meant she didn’t have to waste her time with fake people and those who were out for themselves. JC seemed to completely ignore the arm, and Callie had unknowingly let him in closer than she’d let anyone in a long time.

“You in there, somewhere?” JC was snapping his fingers in front of her face. Callie blinked and looked down at the song they’d returned to his house to work on. She’d been daydreaming about performing it for a sold out crowd, and they were loving it!

“Yeah. Sorry. I was thinking about this song, actually. What’d you ask?”

“This part… could go one of two ways. Both sound good, I think, so you pick. Follow your heart.” He pointed at two separate sheets of music, and Callie looked from one to the other, quickly singing the part in her head a few times.

“Let me ask you something,” she said, setting the pages down. “Which do you like better?”

JC saw where she was going and shook his head, grinning at her. “This isn’t MY song. It’s yours.”

“I know. I just want to see if we’re on the same wavelength.”

“Uh uh. Pick. PICK, woman!”

Callie sighed. “Fucker. Two.”

“Two it is. I liked that one, too. We should go TO the store.” He laughed at his own joke for way too long, and then played the part including the variation they’d just chosen. “And your opinion now, is…?”

Callie shrugged, trying not to smile. “Your jokes aren’t funny. The song is alright.”

JC stared and sighed. “Okay. Completely ignoring the fact my joke AND that change rocked your face off, I am calling the verses done. You want to call it a night? It’s pretty late.”

“Are you tired?” ‘Please say no.’

“Nope. This is primetime for me. But, I don’t want to run you into the ground or anything. I can go forever.”

“I’m ok, for now. I don’t want to know what time it is, though. We’re almost done. It’ll be harder to pick this back up another day.”

“I agree. Moving on!” he declared, dropping his pen and reaching behind him for another sheet of paper. Callie found herself staring at his back and admiring how his shirt stretched across it as his muscles ripped beneath it. Why he chose to hide what looked to be an amazing upper body she could not understand and was afraid to ask. If she had the female equivalent, Jason would have to tie her down and have clothes glued onto her.

He dumped a pile of pages in her lap, muttering something about the bridge, and digging through another stack in front of him.

“It’s here, I have it,” Callie said, tapping him on the arm.

“I knew it was somewhere. Sorry, I’m not usually so disorganized. I pulled it out because I had an idea and I wanted to focus on it. Tell me what you think about…”

What seemed like mere moments, but must have been hours later, Callie glanced toward the door of the studio and thought she saw sunlight. She stood and poked her head around the door and looked up the stairs—sure enough, red bands of sun were streaking through Josh’s living room and painting a bright glow down the stairs.

“We totally pulled an all-nighter,” she said, starting to yawn. “See? I can’t know what time it is, I’m automatically tired when I find out it’s late.”

“That’s what I like about being down here but it does sort of throw your clock off. Good you didn’t know it was late. We finished your song and solved world peace!” JC grinned and stretched his arms above his head. Callie couldn’t decide if she should stare at his arms or the small band of flesh that showed as his t-shirt rode up. She was driving herself mad and decided to stare at neither. She’d be pissed if he was staring at her the way she wanted to stare at him.

“I’m happy with the song, but I want to hold off on it for a day. Sleep on it. Is that ok?”

“You’re the boss. Just know that we probably need to get it to the band like next week so we need to do sheet music.”

She threw up her hands to tell him she wasn’t protesting, then picked up her bag and tossed it over her shoulder. “I know, I know. I’m gonna hit the road and get some sleep. Thanks, for… yesterday. It was a lot of fun.”

“You’re welcome. I had a good time, too,” he said, walking with her up the stairs and to the door.

“So… I’ll see you…” Callie hesitated. They had a session scheduled for next week, but sort of hoped she would not have to wait until then to see him.

“Uhm… you’re in town for awhile, right?” She nodded.

“Well, why I don’t I give you a call… it’ll be late, but maybe we can do something tonight. Or tomorrow. I have some studio time scheduled today and sometime tomorrow but I should finish up pretty early. I know you said you don’t have many friends here and it’s not like you can just… go out. I’d hate for you to be holed up in your room until Tuesday. “

“Well, Paula will be back Sunday,” Callie said, willing herself to shut up. “But,”she added quickly, “she’s usually beat from the flight from New York, so… yeah if you want to hang out, let me know. I’ll be in and out on some interviews and stuff but for the most part I should be free.”

JC smiled warmly and reached to open the door. “Cool. I’ll definitely call you. And you can always call me if you’re like… going nuts. You can… hang out or whatever. Seriously.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that. Get some good sleep,” she said, stepping outside of the house. A brief but unmistakable ‘snap’ caught her attention and a car squealed as it drove off.

“You’ve GOT to be fucking kidding me.”

“What was that?” he asked, stepping outside.

“I think it was a photog.”

“Oh, awesome. This is gonna look great in the blogs. You better call Jason. I need to call Eric.”

“Okay. Talk to you later.”

“Yeah, drive safe,” he said, distracted and already dialing. Callie followed suit as she stepped into the rental that Jason had arranged for her.

Jason picked up after three rings and sleepily answered. “Holy fuck. What are you doing up and why are you calling me?”

“Time for you to earn your paycheck. I pulled an all night session with JC, just now leaving. A photog was sitting outside the house. It totally looks like we spent the night together.”

“What do you want me to do about it?” Jason asked, still groggy.

“I want you to act like my manager and make sure nothing damaging gets printed! I’m a bitch, not a slut. Keep it that way!” She slammed her finger down on the ‘end’ button and tossed the phone into her bag. She needed to concentrate while she drove in LA and yelling at Jason would be distracting.

…

“I’m not talking to you.” Callie would believe Paula was genuinely hurt if she believed anything ever genuinely hurt her.

“Whatever. You wanna hear about what we did, or not?”

“Did you fuck him?”

Callie gasped, then laughed. “PAULA!”

“Ooh, defensive. Did you?”

“No. Why am I friends with you? Delusional bitch.”

“Seriously, did you?”

“Seriously, NO!”

“Then I don’t care what you did. Do you WANT to fuck him?”

“Paula. “

“God, you’re boring. That guy is sex on a stick. I’d do him in a second.”

“You’re welcome to him,” Callie laughed. “Like he’s mine to give away.”

“Dear heart, when I think of me, late 30’s, size 8, which is fucking plus size in LA, and you, with all that… hair, and those… eyes and that body, and your snappy attitude, I think I know which gal he’d rather wake up next to.”

Callie cackled in response. “Anyway. How’s New York?”

“Rude and cold. I love it here. Why’d I move away?”

“More work in LA? Beautiful brand new loft you didn’t pay $12 million for? Warm weather? Stop me anytime.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m too old for this shit. So what’s on your plate this weekend? Certainly not sitting in that room.”

“Ah, I got some interviews to do, some mail to answer, some appearances to make but most of it, yeah… sitting in this room. And I might hang out with JC sometime. Just to get out of here.”

“Oh really… hmmm. Can we go back to the ‘do you want to fuck him’ question?”

“Paula, please stop. I have to think of him as a business partner right now. Don’t make me think of him differently.”

“You can’t think of him as a business partner and then ‘hang out’ with him, Callie. Don’t bullshit me. I’ve been around that block twice.”

Callie fell silent.

“Fine, don’t answer me. I’ll drop it, not because I’m beat, but because a client just buzzed up. We’ll continue this conversation later. Bye.” A click in her ear ended the call and Callie hung up.

‘The question isn’t do I want to fuck him,’ Callie thought, sliding under the covers. ‘It’s if I WANT to want to fuck him. And I don’t. It can’t happen. End of story.’ She closed her eyes and rolled over, her nose brushing against the t-shirt she hadn’t changed out of. The faint scent of his cologne lingered in the weave of the fabric.

“Fuck,” she growled, sitting up and pulling the t-shirt off, then collapsing against the pillows.

…

“We have the amazing Callie Phelps here, ready to sign anything you put in front of her, so come on out and see us! You can also pick up the new CD by ‘Soul Train’, that one hit #1 this week! Callie, you’ve got to be excited about your man at #1!”

‘Oh this is rich. RICH. The POPE knows Curtis and I aren’t dating, so I’m sure this guy knows. He just wants to hear me say it.’

“Well, I’m sure Curtis and the guys are excited. ‘Soul Train’ put a lot of work into this record, and they’ve been touring nonstop for a few months, so I haven’t actually seen him in awhile. But really, who wouldn’t be excited about being at the top spot? I’m proud of him.”

“There’s a huge rumor going around that you guys aren’t together anymore, truth to that?”

‘Fucker.’

“I like to keep my business to myself and I don’t usually respond to rumors. Whether Curtis and I are dating is between Curtis and I and has always been between Curtis and I. I am proud of him, though, no matter what. It’s something we all want for ourselves, so how can we down another musician who’s able to achieve that?”

“Well, there we go. No definitive answer, but I’m gonna go with breakup for $500. We’ll be right back after this break. Come buy some music and meet Callie Phelps!”

The DJ removed his headphones and handed his mic to an assistant.

Callie gripped his arm and didn't let go. Wide eyed, he stared at Callie as she hissed. “One more question about Curtis and I’m walking out. I’m not kidding. We clear?”

The young man turned crimson and stuttered. “Uh uh uh, sorry, I-I-I was told to-“

“Ask until you get an answer, I know. You can tell that asshole Mark Bonham- he’s your PD right?” He nodded. “Tell Mark he’s a sleazebag, and Callie sends her love. And that he can tell Curtis that Callie said ‘Fuck You’. I mean it, one more and I’m gone.”

“Okay. Okay. No more. We have another break in ten minutes and…” he pointed at several girls standing around with pens and paper. Callie put on the smile she reserved for fans and waived them over, signing everything put in front of her, taking pictures and giving hugs.

“So, how’d it go?” Jason asked, chewing in her ear.

“Why do I know people who can’t talk on the phone without eating? Call me when you’re done masticating in a gross manner.” Callie hung up and the phone rang again in a few minutes.

“Fine, I’m done eating. How’d it go?”

“About as we expected. Two Curtis questions before I threatened to cut his balls off. I sent him back with a message to Mark, who was to send a message to Curtis.”

“Evil. I’m sure Curt will love knowing he got a rise out of you.”

“Six of one, half dozen of the other,” Callie said, navigating the LA side streets, looking for the cross street that would take her to West Hollywood. “How did it sound?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t listening.”

“What good are you?”

“It’s not in my contract to bow at your feet, Callie. You didn’t want me to come, so I didn’t. I was supposed to listen to some boring remote broadcast instead of going to the skate park?”

“You’re too old for that shit. You’re gonna break a leg. And then who’s gonna manage me?”

“I could manage you with my eyes closed, Callie. All I have to do is say your name and people go ‘oh yes sir!’” Jason laughed like a fourteen year old and Callie rolled her eyes, turning onto the street she was looking for.

“Gross. Well. I’m off for the night, so don’t call me.”

“Wait! Where you going?”

“None of your business.”

Callie parked behind several cars pouring out of JC’s driveway and climbed the hill toward the house. She could hear laughter and music from her car, the sound growing louder the closer she got. The garage door was open and she could see people milling about the backyard, talking and laughing. She walked through the garage, past the two cars parked there, and out to the well lit back patio. The pool glimmered in the evening light and small groups of men and women were scattered about the area.

“Hey,” she heard from behind her. She turned to find a tall, stocky but not heavy man with blonde hair and a friendly face.

“Hey.”

“You’re Callie. JC said you were stopping by. Come on through,” he said taking her hand and leading her through the patio area into the house from the backdoor.

“Josh! Callie’s here!” Tyler yelled, then pushed her inside and closed the door. A group of people were inside, lounging on couches and chairs, some on the floor laying on pillows. A few were playing a video game, the rest were watching, talking, or listening to the music playing overhead. No one seemed to notice that she’d walked in.

“You made it, awesome!” JC said, coming from around the corner. “You want something to drink? How’d your radio… thing… go today?”

“Uhm. Fine, it went fine. Yeah I’ll have… a beer. I guess,” she answered. “Who… who are all these people?”

“My friends, Tyler’s friends, friends of friends.”

“Who’s Josh?”

“Me. My name is Josh. It’s… a long story. Look it up on the internet. I’ll quiz ya Tuesday. Come get your beer,” he said, leading her through the house to the kitchen and plucking a cold bottle out of the fridge.

“You’re getting the good stuff so don’t walk outta here with that. They’ll all want to know if they can have one, and NO!”

She winked and held the bottle out for him to open it, taking a sip after he did. “So, just as I thought, the DJ was all over the Curtis question.”

“Yeah? How’d you answer it?” JC sat on the counter, opening a beer for himself.

“Oh the typical ‘I’m proud, they worked hard, good for them’, bullshit. Then he asked AGAIN, like he just wanted me to SAY Curt and I broke up. So I had to go hardline on him.”

“I don’t talk about my personal life.”

“Exactly.  It’s not like I’m crying in my beer over here, but we did JUST break up. Maybe I can’t talk about it yet. I know what it is. Curtis is friends with the PD over there, Mark. Mark is a whore for ratings, so that situation has all the makings of Mark telling his DJ to ‘ask till he gets an answer, don’t let up, make her say it’. Fucker.”

JC laughed, then pointed at her still full bottle. “Have another sip. And keep sipping until you’re not so worked up about it, ‘K? Curtis is not worth all that.”

“I know. Maybe I can get slightly drunk and write a good song about it.”

“Maybe. It could be your first country hit.”

Callie started signing in a heavy western twang, “We broke up… You won’t shut up... Let me go… Cause I said so… Stop asking them… if I miss you… if I missed you… I’d… I’d…hmmm…yeah I got nothin’.”

JC laughed. “Maybe country is not your style.”

“I’m gonna stick with what I know.”

“Good look. Come meet some of my friends. They’re weirder than I am. Fair warning.”

Callie gave up trying to remember names after the twelfth person she’d met. She was just going to call them ‘that one girl in the blue hat’. It’s not like she was going to see these people often—or again. She was hanging out to pass the time, not make lifelong friends.

She, JC, and a few other people were caught up in a random conversation until the wee hours of the morning. Most of Tyler’s friends had followed him out when he left for a club and the remaining stragglers had left one by one soon after. Callie looked around to the mess in the yard and the house and was disgusted. This was the reason she never invited anyone to her place—she couldn’t stand what pigs people could be and how they mistreated other people’s things. Her mom’s husband was a pig du jour and she couldn’t even stand to go home. She shivered at the memory of her last visit.

“No way you’re cold. It’s so warm out here,” JC said poking her.

“No, I was looking at this mess. Your friends are pigs.”

He sat up and looked around. “Yeah, that happens. It won’t take long to clean up. It’s just garbage. If I had to choose between clean friends who never came over or pigs who stopped by a lot to hang out with me… well it’s obvious which ones I choose.”

“Completely,” Callie said, draining her cup.

“So… you have friends at home, right? None of them ever come out, even for a weekend?”

“I really only have a couple of friends. Paula, who I met ages ago. She knew my dad. And this one girl I haven’t even really talked to in awhile. She lives in Chicago, but she’s just never around when I’m home. Or she doesn’t want to talk to me or hang out with me.”

“Why would someone not want to hang out with you?”

Callie turned to look at JC, staring him in the eye.

“What? It’s an honest question.”

“I don’t know if you’ve heard or not, but I’m kind of a bitch.”

“The word is DIVA. You’re so not,” JC said, waving her off.

“You don’t think I’m bitchy?”

JC shrugged. “What do you want me to say? Yeah, you’re a raging bitch. I still hang out with you. That’s no excuse. People just have to understand where you’re coming from and like… get you.”

“And you… get me?”

“No. But I’m on my way. And in the meantime, I don’t mind figuring you out.”

“I don’t want you to figure me out, JC. I want you to produce my album and help me hit number one. That’s all I want from you.”

“And you’ll get that. To the best of my ability. But you wouldn’t be here right now if you didn’t want more than that.”

Callie snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I’m not talking about THAT-- I’m just saying—I think you want me to understand you, to know … like I said… where you’re coming from. You want me to like you. “

“Whatever, Dr Freud. Let me know when you’re done with your analysis of Callie Phelps. You want some help cleaning up? It’s getting under my skin. I won’t be able to sleep knowing you have to clean this up.”

JC held up a finger and grinned. “See. You’re not a bitch. You’re a nice person. Just to the right people.”

“Shut. Up. Get up and help me.” Callie stood and offered a hand to help him up from his chair.

“Spoke too soon.”

It took an hour but finally, Callie could relax. She tied the last bag closed and left it in the kitchen for JC to take out to the garbage can.

“I don’t believe you made me clean my own house. That’s what I have lackeys for,” he said, mimicking her.

“Unlike Jason, your lackeys probably have a backbone.”

“I think Jason has plenty of backbone.”

“You think? Why do you say that?”

“He still works for you, right?”

“So?’

“So a wimp would have quit a long time ago. Jason’s plenty strong. He knows exactly what you need and what you want and he gets his point across. He’s not afraid to throw his weight around on your behalf… so says Eric. That guy’s got plenty of backbone. You underestimate him.”

“Maybe. I just… I guess I feel like he got pushed into doing this. I don’t think this is what he WANTS to be doing with his life, but instead of standing up for himself, he’s a good boy and does what he’s told. He’s never once stood up to his father or my mother. They push a little bit and every morsel spills out.”

“You never know. Maybe this isn’t what he started out to do, but he’s not horrible at it. I mean he doesn’t have you showing up for stuff on the wrong day, or late for engagements, does he? He’s not bilking you out of millions. You hope.”

Callie paused, her head tilted. “Are you always this optimistic?”

“Kinda,” he said, grinning.

“Damn, that’s annoying. I’m leaving. I want to hit Melrose tomorrow. “

“I’ll walk you to your car. It’s kinda dark out there.”

Side by side, they slowly picked their way down the hill to Callie’s car. The night air was soundless except for their footsteps and crickets.

“Thanks for inviting me over. I’m sure I’d have been on my second banana split by now if I was in my room.”

“I’m glad you came over. Really. And I’m glad I could feed you alcohol instead. Are you okay to drive?”

“Yeah. I didn’t drink much. I’m kind of scared to drive in LA so I didn’t want to get too drunk.”

“Cool. Cause you can stay if you don’t think you’re okay to drive, really.” They reached her car and he stood next to her on the driver’s side. She pressed the button to unlock the door.

“Stop, JC. I’m fine. Thanks though.” She leaned over to give him a quick squeeze, and then ducked inside the car. ‘Why did I do that? Callie, I swear to God…’

JC tapped on the window. Callie started the car and pressed the button, the window sliding down with a loud squeak. “I clearly have a high class vehicle here. I’m also turning in this piece of shit tomorrow and getting another car. What?”

“Drive safe,” JC said softly.

“I will,” she answered after a moment.

“Uhm. My session got canceled tomorrow. I was gonna… waste time working on my record but… do you want company tomorrow?”

Callie’s jaw dropped. She didn’t know what to say. Part of her wanted to be alone. Part of her longed to hang out with him again. The lonely part of her won.

“Uh, sure if you want. You don’t have to, I’ll be ok by myself.”

“You’re more than ok by yourself. I asked if you wanted company.”

“Yes. I want company. Fucker.”

“Meet me here tomorrow at 11. We’ll take my car. This is a piece of shit. I consider that a term of endearment, you know,” he called, walking back up the hill.

“What?”

“Fucker. I call all my friends that. So thanks!” he laughed as he turned and walked back toward the house.