Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Axel picked up the rhythm with his sticks and that was that. Another reason Dash loved these guys. For the rest of the afternoon, he lost himself in what he loved most, making music.
* * *
Midweek, Cassidy sat beside Dash in the back of a limousine headed to Midtown Manhattan. Naomi had set up his sit-down with a well-known morning show host to give him prime coverage in exchange for an exclusive story. In the days following the blowup at the rehab center, Cassidy hadn’t seen much of him. He’d spent most of his time sequestered with the guys in his home recording studio, and she’d been busy doing her job.
She’d begun meeting with personal assistants who could handle the band’s day-to-day needs, be a legitimate assistant and not someone looking for an in with rock stars, and someone who could handle the guys at their fussiest. She’d interviewed five people, narrowed it down to two, and scheduled them to return individually early next week to meet the band.
Nights were for the two of them. Neither mentioned the future, and because he deserved the space to get through this emotional upheaval in his life, she kept quiet about it as well. It was clear by the way he tossed and turned and often stared into space, he was stressed about the interview.
She glanced to her side. Sunglasses on, he stared out the window, giving her a chance to look him over. He wore a pair of black faded jeans, a white dress shirt, unbuttoned enough to show off his tanned chest and its dusting of hair. He’d rolled the shirt at the sleeves, as usual, showing off his sexy tattoos. He had on a pair of black Chucks, and one foot tapped like a metronome against the car floor. A black braided-leather necklace enhanced his appeal. Add in the sincerity he was sure to bring to the interview and the audience would love him.
Cassidy didn’t think he needed her there when he revealed his past, but the fact that he wanted her backstage, so he could see her when he spoke, as he’d said when he’d asked her, touched her heart. That same heart she was trying to protect.
Yet here she was, her hand on his, as the car pulled up to the back entrance of the studio. A crowd stood outside, and Dash stopped to sign autographs, take pictures with his fans, sign a woman’s arm, and to Cassidy’s shock, decline a boob sign. She’d grinned at that, quite pleased he’d looked at her, winked, and returned to the fans. The woman left disappointed, but Cassidy was on cloud nine.
The greenroom was well lit, with sofas against the walls, carpet on the floor, and food on a center table, including soft drinks and coffee. As the time slowly ticked by for Dash to go live, he paced the floor in constant motion. Since she couldn’t help him, she sat and watched the show on the screen.
A makeup artist came in and took care of his makeup, evening out his skin tone and getting rid of shine, something Cassidy was used to seeing on set with Sasha and her co-stars.
Then a producer arrived and set up Dash with his mic. “Ready? Let’s get you prepared to walk on set.”
“Cass?” Dash held out his hand.
The producer shook her head. “She can wait in here.”
“No, she can wait in the wings where I can see her.” Dash continued to extend his hand. The prima donna rock star side of him that rarely came out wasn’t taking no for an answer.
“Fine,” the impatient woman muttered. “Let’s go.” She tapped at the Apple Watch on her wrist.
Cassidy jumped up and grabbed his clammy hand, holding it for the walk to the studio where the morning show hosts were joking live on camera.
With hand gestures and her finger over her lips, the producer relayed directions to Cassidy. Stand here and be quiet. She got it.
Dash settled himself in a chair beneath heavy lighting, and as soon as the hosts went to commercial, the female co-host joined him in the empty seat across from him. A welcoming smile was on her face and Cassidy relaxed. There was no way this woman was going to skewer him.
They went live and she launched into her introduction, mentioning the band and their success and listing Dash and the guys’ accolades. She sobered as she changed the subject to the recent revelations, the rehab confrontation, and then asked Dash for his story.
Cassidy’s palms grew sweaty as she listened to him talk about how, from the time he was a kid, music had been his life, how he and his friend had begun to experiment with drugs, mostly weed until that fateful night, never thinking anything could go wrong. He told the story about Billy’s death, leaving out any mention of his father paying the family for their silence. Bringing that up now would only upset Heather more, and since she hadn’t discussed it with the press, they’d decided this was Dash’s story. Not his father’s.