Playing Me Read online

  I awoke to my alarm after just four hours sleep. Nancy and I had been up late last night, then last night turned into this morning and we were still awake celebrating on the couch. We had popped open a cheap bottle of bubbly I kept in the fridge for when we had something to toast to and this definitely more than fit the bill. I wish I could afford champagne, but for the first time there was a glimmer of hope I might someday soon. We went through my website and song portfolio, double checking that everything presented me in the best light before nervously composing an email and sending links over to Scott Wolf. We must have read the email out loud eight times to make sure it was polished and professional - my future depended on it.

  When I told Nancy about my night I glossed over the parts where Archer Evans had hit on me. Was I flattered? Sure. There was no denying how gorgeous he was, with dark messy hair and pale skin. The way his smile crinkled the corners of his lips, accentuating the hollows under his cheekbones. His eyes were a well-known part of his look, distinguishing him from most men and making him seem like something otherworldly. They were a pale blue, almost grey, definitely piercing. His body was tall, lean and muscular. Archer was hot, and the worst part of all was that he knew it. He was obviously arrogant and cocky, but I guess that’s what happens when a man becomes so popular everything comes easily to him. He was handsome, rich and famous. He was also a chauvinistic pig who used women, and there was no way I was interested in being another one of his conquests. This chance at a music career meant too much to me. I had a chance to make my father’s dreams come true, and I was not going to let him down.

  I should have been exhausted this morning but I wasn’t - I had all the energy in the world as I got ready for work. I took my red and white uniform out of the closet, slipped it on and pulled my long hair into a ponytail. I quietly gathered my things, closing doors carefully not to wake Nancy. She didn’t have class until later this afternoon and I wanted her to rest after she stayed up all night with me.

  I took the subway to Jimmy’s, the midtown diner where I worked. I walked inside where Cindy, one of the other waitresses was already there wiping down tables and filling napkin dispensers while the cook, a big man named Brick, was busy setting up in the kitchen. I was singing to myself as I got an apron and tied it around my waist, picking up the sugar and dancing over to the tables to start filling them.

  “Someone is in a good mood this morning.”

  I leaned into Cindy and gave her a hug. “That’s an understatement.”

  “So I take it your show went well?”

  I reminded myself I didn’t have a contract yet, all I had right now was a business card and potentially a meeting. I could be excited, but I needed to stay vague. “It went amazing.”

  “Well when you finally make it big don’t forget us little people, Corinne.”

  “Never!”

  Once we finished setting up the doors opened and our regular morning crowd started to filter in. People ordered take away breakfast sandwiches and coffee, either that or they found a table where they worked away on laptops while other people read. I took orders, filled coffee and brought food out with a bounce in my step. Nothing was going to ruin my mood today, it was impossible.

  “Hey, Corinne,” Cindy nudged me. “There’s a guy seated in my section but he was asking for you.”

  I craned my neck and saw the back of someone’s head but didn’t recognize him. “Go ahead, take the table. He’s cute,” Cindy winked at me. I headed over, curious who would be asking about me, then smiled when he looked up at me.

  “Tyler, hi.”

  “I hope it’s not creepy that I stopped by, your roommate told me you worked here. I was hoping to buy you a drink after the show last night, but you were gone.”

  “Sorry I couldn’t stay for the rest of your show, something came up.”

  “I thought you should have this. You left it behind.” Tyler reached into his bag, as he did a piece of his dirty blond hair fell over his cheek. He looked good in an understated casual way, dark skinny jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. He pulled out a piece of paper and held it out to me. I unfolded it and looked down at my writing, it was my set list from last night.

  “I don’t know if you keep these, but I thought you killed it last night. So, one of two things can happen. I figured you would either want to keep it as a memento, or you could sign it for me and I’ll keep it.”

  My eyebrows lifted up my forehead. “You would want to keep this? Why?”

  “For when you’re famous,” he smiled. His smile was genuine and warm, soft and unmenacing. I felt so comfortable talking to him I could almost forget it was the breakfast rush - except Brick was ringing the kitchen bell for me to pick up my plates.

  “If you’d like it, I’m happy to give it to you.” I took out my pen and started to sign my name.

  “You should add your number too, right there, under your name,” he added. I looked up at him, my pen stopping. “This has a fifty percent chance of working.” He laughed. “I’d like to take you out on a date sometime, Corinne. If you’re not seeing anyone, I mean.”

  I smiled. Tyler was asking me out? This day just got even better. I jotted down my number and handed him the paper. “I really need to get back to work. Is there anything else I can get you Tyler?”

  “Sure, I should probably eat something so it doesn’t seem like I came across town for your number. I’d love a coffee and pancakes.”

  “Coming right up.”

  I rushed over to the kitchen window, picked up my plates as Brick gave me a glare. I grinned at him. “You can’t stay mad at me,” I told him in a singsong voice. We stood staring at each other, then the corners of his big lips trembled in a half smile.

  “Get to work, Corinne.”

  I got through the rest of my shift, glancing at Tyler every few minutes. He kept looking over at me and I felt a wave of adrenaline twirling inside me. He was talented, cute, and showing up with my set list had been a really sweet gesture. My run in with Archer last night made me really appreciate how nice Tyler was. Everything about Tyler seemed soft and sensitive where Archer was hard and arrogant, just trying to get in my pants. When I refilled Tyler’s coffee he smiled up at me.

  “I need to get going, I have practice in an hour.”

  “Oh, sure,” I took out his bill and placed it on the table.

  “I’ll give you a call sometime Corinne.”

  “I’d like that.”

  Tyler put down cash, then picked up his things and headed out the doors into the busy and bustling New York street. I watched his tall form retreat from me, disappearing down the sidewalk and blending into a crowd of pedestrians.

  “That was adorable,” Cindy nudged my side.

  “He is really cute, isn’t he?” My cheeks were flushed.

  “The morning rush is dying down, you should take your break now. I’ll cover for you.”

  “Thanks Cindy.”

  I made my way to the back break room and checked my phone. I had a missed call and a message. I went into my voicemail and pressed play.

  “Corinne, this is Scott Wolf. I went through everything you sent me this morning, great stuff. Really great stuff. I want you to come in to Kick Records tomorrow at ten. Shoot me an email when you get this if that works for you. Looking forward to talking next steps.”

  My hands, hell, my entire body started to tremble. I couldn’t believe I was finally taking the next step in achieving my dream. I started to write Scott an email when my phone began to ring. I checked the caller ID and my heart dropped. No sense putting it off, she was going to find out sooner or later. And as soon as she found out, she would act like this was a bad idea instead of being happy for me.

  “Hi mom.”

  “I haven’t heard from you in a while Corinne and I wanted to check in on you. How are you doing?”

  “Good, really good. In fact, I have some news. I played a show last night.”

  There was an audible sigh and a pause on the other end of the
line. “I’m glad dear. Really. This is a nice… hobby for you.”

  “It’s not a hobby mom.”

  “I don’t understand why you can’t be more like your sister. She was promoted this week, did you call to congratulate her?”

  “I know mom, I sent her a card. That’s great for Beth.”

  “You could have been an accountant too. Or a nurse. Something with job stability, instead of trying to be like…” her voice drifted off.

  “Instead of trying to be like dad,” I finished for her. “I’m proud to be like him, mom, and I like to think he would have been proud of me too.”

  “Corinne,” my mother’s voice was tired, hollow. Here we went again, the same speech. “Your father was a talented musician. It’s why I fell in love with him. But you will never understand the stress of raising two kids being as poor as we were, not knowing where our next meal was coming from. I don’t want that for you. I want something better.”

  “I’m not starving mom, I’m doing okay. And anyways, I have news. I met a manager from a record label. I’m meeting with him again tomorrow, I think he’s going to sign me.” Silence. “Mom, are you still there?”

  “Is this like one of those sex predator things?” she said finally.

  “Mom! No! Jesus, can’t you be happy for me? Can’t you be supportive?”

  “I’m trying, Corinne. I’m really trying. I just… I want you to be happy.”

  “I am happy, I’m so happy. Listen, I’ve got to go. I’m working right now. But I’ll call you again soon.”

  “Okay sweetheart. I love you.”

  “Love you too mom.”

  I felt a tightness creep into my neck and shoulders. We grew up dirt poor, scraping for everything we had, and living in New York I didn’t have much more now than I did back then other than a dream. But I was trying, and now I was finally getting somewhere. Compared to my practical and serious sister Beth, I was a hopeless daydreamer. While she had started a family and graduated to become an accountant I was still off trying to live my father’s unfinished dreams, carrying around his beat up old guitar. Holding onto a piece of him. My mother still worked, cleaning hotels. It was only natural she wanted more for me than the service industry. A record contract could completely turn my life around, and maybe then she would believe in my dream the way I did.

  I quickly wrote a polite email to Scott confirming tomorrow morning then headed back out to the diner floor. It was busy again, which is a blessing when you work for tips. I sucked in a deep breath and nodded to Cindy that she could take her break and I would take over. Between orders I hummed to myself, my entire mind and body filled with so much music it was spilling out of me. I wondered how much longer I would be working here, wondered what it would be like being signed to a label. Tomorrow would be the turning point in my life, it was so close now I could practically feel it.

  Chapter Five

  Archer

  I was lying on my back on the couch, holding a guitar against my chest and absently strumming the strings. I wasn’t playing anything in particular, but it helped me think. I had been up all night and felt like shit, I probably looked like shit too. This always happened, a new album and tour wrapped up and then I became irrelevant. I needed to get to work on something new, the constant churn of the entertainment industry. If you’re not putting out people lose interest - sort of like with a woman.

  My phone started to buzz and I reached for it, stretching so I didn’t have to get off the couch. I pressed it against my ear.

  “Yeah?”

  “Archer, it’s Scott.”

  “What’s up, miss me already?” I continued to strum with the phone cradled between my ear and shoulder. Scott was a great manager. He was serious, straightforward but knew exactly how to work with talent. I made him money, and in return he helped keep me at the top.

  “This is your reminder about your meeting this morning, with PR. You know, those meetings you always forget about even though I know damn well my assistant sticks them in your calendar.”

  “Of course, my meeting, I didn’t forget that,” I lied as I swung my legs over the edge of the couch and stood up, dropping my guitar against the cushions.

  “Yeah, sure Archer.”

  “I was literally on my way out the door before you called. See you in a bit Scott.”

  I hung up and ran a hand through my hair checking my reflection in the mirror. Not exactly polished but I didn’t mind strolling into a meeting wearing jeans and last night’s Night of the Living Dead t-shirt. These people worked for me, who was I trying to impress?

  I headed downstairs and flagged down a taxi, slipping on a pair of dark Ray-Bans hoping no one asked me for a picture or an autograph this morning. I wasn’t in the fucking mood. While we wove through traffic I checked my phone. There were a few texts from my bandmates trying to get me to go out last night I had been ignoring. They always partied hard after the end of the tour like it was some sort of celebration. I was having a private party instead back at my place with a Victoria’s Secret model, whatever they were doing didn’t compete.

  Buried in my email was one I was half expecting from my dad. I could picture his secretary reminding him about my last show, sitting by his desk to type out his words as he dictated an email for his son in between meetings and calls. I was famous, I was successful, but in his eyes I was still the same kid playing around with an instrument. He didn’t find anything about what I did respectable, and as an investment banker who made his first million by twenty three he wasn’t impressed by my wealth. Everything was a competition with him, and I was always losing by not taking the same path he did. I clicked it open and read.

  Archer,

  Congratulations on your final show, this must feel like quite an accomplishment to you. Enjoy this stage in your life. I expect the glamor, while temporary, is nonetheless exciting. Your stepmother sends her love.

  Regards,

  Blake

  A laugh pushed past my lips. So condescending, so devoid of anything resembling genuine pride. Classic dad. Plus I’m sure my newest stepmother, wife number five, sent anything my way from her pampered life as the newest trophy wife. That’s the thing about trophies, you start thinking about the next one when the current one starts to lose its shine. Seeing him cycle through wives was another reason I was never getting married, relationships were just about using each other to get ahead. I was not going to be some groupie’s ladder or meal ticket. I got everything I needed from women just the way things were.

  The taxi slowed and I tossed him some cash as well as a generous tip. New York cabbies were the best, they could tell who wanted to talk and who wanted a quiet ride. I tipped well for drivers who kept their mouths shut.

  I stepped out onto the sidewalk keeping my head down and rushed into the doors to Kick Records, passing a few teenagers on the sidewalk who were waiting outside to see who they might bump into. By the time a flash of recognition crossed one of their faces and she aimed her phone I was already inside and past security. Better luck next time kids.

  The elevator door opened and I pressed the button for the fourth floor then leaned against the wall with my arms crossed.

  “Hold the door!” came a shout. I didn’t. Why inconvenience myself for some stranger? A hand shot into the narrow crack just before the door closed and I sighed as they opened again. “Thanks a lot,” the woman muttered as she pushed her way inside. Our eyes met and the corners of my mouth turned up into a smile.

  “I know you. You’re Scott’s new find.”

  “Corinne,” she said, standing at the other end of the elevator and putting as much space between us as she could.

  “Corinne. Right. So I guess things are going well if you’re here this morning.”

  “I hope so.”

  She kept her eyes trained on the wall, not looking at me. But I was looking at her, closely. She was still as hot as the last time I saw her, her hair long and loose and wearing a soft blue dress. Her legs went on forever, fr
om her heels ending at her perky ass. I was a legs and ass man, hers were definitely top notch.

  “You know Corinne, my offer still stands if you want to meet up sometime and get some pointers.”

  “No thanks,” she said firmly. “I’m sure I’ll manage without your pointers.”

  The doors opened and I followed her out into the reception area. “You object to getting help?”

  “I object to your motives Archer.”

  I raised my hands. “Message received loud and clear. But a bit of advice, from me to you? Soften those edges sweetheart. You won’t last a week in this industry if people don’t like you.”

  She turned and gave me a smile, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief in them. Fuck this girl was really something.

  “Oh, I’m very likable when I want to be.”

  She went over to reception to give her name and I chuckled to myself, walking down the hallway to the boardroom where I knew people were probably waiting for me. She had fire in her, but she really needed to learn how to lighten up. I opened the door of the corner boardroom they always used for our meetings and four heads turned my way. There was Scott, Bill the head of PR wearing a grey suit, a blonde woman I didn’t recognize and a young girl with black-rimmed glasses writing on a notepad as they talked. I pegged her as the intern.

  “Nice of you to join us Archer.” Scott nodded at me.

  “Great tour Archer,” the man in the suit gave me an enthusiastic thumbs up. PR people were like wax mannequins to me. So polished, every word carefully plucked from their brains. They reminded me of cyborgs.

  “Thanks. Can someone remind me what this meeting is about?”

  The attractive woman, about ten years older than me but she still looked good, spoke up. “We’re going over your promotion strategy for the next few months, how to keep you top of mind while we continue to market your last album. My name is Maggie, we haven’t met. I’m new to the team but we’ll be working together closely.”

  I leaned back in my chair, the thought of just how closely I could work with Maggie sliding through my mind. My own Mrs. Robinson. I gave her a little smirk.