“I know.”

  “But it was fine. Definitely repeatable whenever we need to. For the cameras, I mean.”

  “Totally.”

  “Speaking of cameras,” I say, remembering the woman filming the show last night. Chrissy’s twin sister. “Did you ever figure out what Priscilla was doing at the Sin and Sand?”

  “No,” Chrissy says with a hard sigh. “And, truthfully, I hope I never do. I hope that was the last I ever see of her for the rest of my days. But, knowing her…” She groans softly.

  “Wow.” I sit back. “And here I always dreamed of having a sister of my own.”

  “Be grateful you’re an only child. Trust me.”

  “Oh, I am. Oh!” I hop on my seat, a new thought filling me with glee. “I ran into a fan last night.”

  “You did?” she asks, shifting forward, more than happy to leave Priscilla behind.

  “There was a girl at the show. She told me how much she and her friends liked Boom Boom. It was their new pump song.”

  “Pump song?”

  “A song you listen to to pump yourself up. Apparently.”

  “Oh. Of course.”

  “It felt amazing,” I say, feeling it all over again. “My first fan out in the wild.”

  “Did you take a picture with her?”

  I wince. “No. I forgot that was a thing. But I’ll remember it for next time! I was just so shocked. It was the first time someone recognized me for my music and not, well… all the other stuff.”

  Chrissy tilts her head, her smile digging in. “That’s wonderful, Harmony.”

  “Thanks. It feels wonderful.”

  “The first of many fans to come, I’m sure.”

  “You think so?”

  “We all think so.” She gestures around. “You think the head of a major record label would have commissioned this thing if people didn’t believe in you?”

  I glance around the bus. My bus. “Maybe,” I say, my smile slipping. “Knox said it was just nepotism.”

  “So what?” Chrissy asks. “You cut the line. Big deal! Doesn’t make you any less talented or worthy of success. There’s not a person in this world who wouldn’t do the same given the opportunity, and anyone who says otherwise are liars.” She taps the table between us. “Trust me, honey. I’ve been behind the curtain in this industry for a while now and let me tell you… every successful artist I’ve met has one thing in common: they had help. No one does it alone. They had famous parents or their parent’s money or a close friend on the inside. They had help, and they took it. The ones who turn down a helping hand now and then are far worse off.”

  “No one just gets lucky?” I ask, curious.

  “Luck happens, sure. But you can’t count on it. Not the way you can count on others.” She takes a breath, her thoughtful eyes regarding me for a moment. “Everyone here wants you to succeed, Harmony. That’s why we’re here. Everyone else…” She waves a hand. “Who cares what they think?”

  I smile. “You’re good at pep talks.”

  “It’s my job.” She returns the smile. “Keep your eye on the prize, girl. I know I will be.” She looks at our driver. “How about you, Barry? You in?”

  “Sure!” he answers passively, his eyes and ears on the road. “Whatever you want, ladies!”

  We laugh.

  Chrissy reaches across the table and touches my hand. “Nobody can make Harmony Max feel less than, except you. Not Knox. Not the internet or anyone else on this tour. Only you. So, take care of her. She’s got a lot of tours ahead of her yet.”

  My smile grows.

  The trip to Los Angeles is quick. We reach the hotel just after noon and a few minutes ahead of the other bus. I think to wait for them but, still riding high on Chrissy’s pep talk, I hop off and we walk inside together.

  Chrissy goes ahead toward the front desk while I linger in the lobby and… take it in.

  Botsford Plazas.

  Before I met Knox, I’d only set foot in one of these luxury hotels once in my life. My last pageant in San Francisco. The last death rattle of my life as a wanna-be beauty queen.

  Harmony Max. Fourth place.

  In the end, I never won a crown, but I’d won the heart of a rockstar. He whisked me away like a fairy-tale prince on his magic carpet and showed me a new world of fame and fortune. Part of that was luxury hotel rooms and showering me with… whatever my heart desired in the moment.

  And I was willing to do anything for him in return.

  Anything.

  Thankfully, Chrissy returns before I can dwell on those memories for too long and the two of us make our way across the lobby to the elevators. We ride to the 20th floor to our rooms, dropping off our bags and meeting up again to head for lunch.

  The elevator opens on the lobby.

  On Knox.

  “Hey,” he says, straightening up.

  I stand taller, too, as the sudden sight of him sends an unexpected rush of tingling heat through my core.

  “Hey,” I say.

  We stand still, stiffly staring at each other, memories of this morning’s fantasy filling my head all over again.

  “So, how was your drive?” I ask, forcing myself to say something.

  “It was fine,” he says. “Quick.”

  “Yeah, I thought it was quick, too.”

  Knox nods. He opens his mouth, then snaps it closed.

  Addison pokes her head around his shoulder. “Getting off?” she asks me.

  “No. I mean… yes!” I say. “Yes, we are. We are… going out to lunch.”

  “Cool,” Knox says. “We’re ordering in.”

  “That’s cool, too.”

  “Yeah.”

  I hum affirmatively.

  Chrissy touches my back, giving me the nudge I need to break my eye contact with Knox. I lurch forward as he steps on with Addison.

  “What the hell was that about?” I hear Addison ask behind me.

  “Nothing,” Knox answers.

  “You have a sex dream about her or something?”

  “No!”

  The doors close on them as Chrissy and I crack up.

  19

  KNOX

  Breathe in.

  Breathe out.

  Empty your mind.

  Think of nothing. Nothing at all.

  Especially not… no, don’t think of her name.

  Thinking the name only leads to more dirty thoughts of…

  My phone rings in my pocket.

  Oh, thank god.

  I reach for it, keeping one arm draped over my eyes to block out the evening sunlight because I’m too lazy to actually get up and close the curtains. I answer it absently, expecting it to be Jordan. She’s the only who actually still calls.

  “Yeah,” I say into it.

  “Mr. Benton! How are you?”

  I furrow my brow, his voice alone sending a nauseous reaction in my gut. “How did you get this number?” I ask, annoyed.

  “I’m the head of Midnite Music,” Mr. Paul Monroe says, as if that answers the question completely.

  I sit up on the bed. “What do you want?”

  “Well, I couldn’t help but notice that there haven’t been very many new headlines about your tour,” he says.

  “We’ve been on tour for a day and a half.”

  “In fact, people are talking more about Mr. Botsford’s upcoming nuptials rather than you and my stepdaughter.”

  “Yeah. People love Jo and Marla,” I argue. “Of course they’re excited about the wedding.”

  “Mr. Benton.” Mr. Monroe’s voice firms. “When I ask for results, I expect them to be timely.”

  “Our tour lasts through October, so… there’s still plenty of time for results.”

  “You’re in Los Angeles, yes?”

  “So?”

  “So, that’s the perfect place for you and Harmony to spend a night out on the town. Go to a club. Get in a fistfight with the first jerk who looks at her. You know. That old classic!”

  I wince. “Yeah, I don’t really do stuff like that anymore.”

  “Well, Mr. Benton⁠—”

  “It’s tacky.”

  “You don’t do much stuff at all anymore, do you?”

  I raise a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’ve been doing some research. The Rebel of Rock ain’t as rebellious as he used to be,” he says, tutting his tongue disappointedly.

  I take a breath, annoyed and… a little offended. “Yeah, my lawyer had a lot to say about it, along with a few judges, so I cleaned up my act.”

  “Dirty it up for me.”

  A laugh escapes my throat. “You’re serious?”

  “Very. If you’d rather, you and I can have a sit down when you reach San Francisco next week,” he says. “Go over your contract.”

  “Calm down, Paulie,” I say, biting down. “I’ll get you your damn buzz.”

  “Excellent! Looking forward to reading all about it.”

  He hangs up.

  “Such a nice guy,” I murmur as I drop my phone on my bed.

  I turn toward the windows, my eyes glossing over the Los Angeles skyline. In a few minutes, the sun will fall behind the buildings and the sky will turn a deep blue. Nothing but flashing lights and broken dreams. A city just waiting for a little bit of… buzz.

  I sigh. Fine.

  Exiting my room, I cross the hall to Harmony’s suite and knock. Might as well get together with my fake girlfriend and strategize.

  Laughter bursts from behind the door. I lean in, pushing my ear against it to hear better.

  Multiple voices. All female.

  Harmony opens it in mid-laughter. “Oh,” she says, taking a breath. “Hey, Knox.”

  I lean back, her outfit instantly drawing my eyes down. It’s a dress. Tight and pink with black lines down each side. Her hair, perfect. Her make-up, sinful.

  “You going out?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” she says. “We all are.”

  “We are?”

  “No!” I hear Addison shout from inside. “He can’t come.”

  A choir of agreement echoes from inside.

  “What?” I ask, trying not to pout. “Why not?”

  With a shrug, Harmony leans the door closed. “Sorry, Knox. The ladies have spoken.”

  I stick my foot in the door. “Wait, wait, wait,” I say, pushing it open.

  Harmony shifts back and lets me inside.

  The bathroom is far past capacity. Four other women crowd around the mirror, all wearing dresses that show off their curves and legs. Addison, Chrissy, Katrina. Even Jordan has her hair down, ready for a night out.

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  “Girls’ night out,” Harmony says.

  Katrina bends down to zip up her knee-high boot. “Sorry, brother,” she says. “Ladies only.”

  “Why?” I ask, pouting now. “I wanna come.”

  “No!” Jordan, Chrissy, and Addison cry out in unison.

  Katrina steps into the bathroom doorway. “We’re doing our part,” she says, looking at me and Harmony. “My DMs are blowing up. People want to know why I’m allowing this.” She gestures at us. “As if I’m your moral compass or something.”

  “I mean, you kinda are,” I joke.

  “Still,” Katrina says, “if people see us out and about together with Harmony, being friendly, that should calm that down. Hopefully. Also…” She smiles at Harmony. “We thought it’d be nice to hang out and catch up.”

  Harmony returns her smile. Neither of them seem disingenuous about it, either. They were good friends before. Once upon a time.

  Still…

  “But why can’t I come?” I ask.

  Addison steps out, her cat eye make-up drawn sharp enough to slash tires. “Because we’re going to Diablo Pink.”

  “Diablo Pink?” I groan. “That’s a girl bar.”

  “Congrats! You’ve walked directly into the point,” she quips.

  The others laugh.

  “And it’s karaoke night,” she says. “So, you wouldn’t have any fun at all.”

  She makes a good point. I’m not a fan of karaoke.

  Also…

  I glance at Harmony. “Karaoke night?” I ask.

  “Uh-huh,” she says.

  “So… you’re gonna sing? You’ll be singing? For other people?”

  Harmony nods. “Yeah. Is that a problem?”

  I swallow it.

  “No,” I say.

  Someone knocks on the door behind me. I open it on Bronson, dressed and ready for a night out.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “Girls’ night out.”

  I turn back toward the ladies. “You guys know Bronson has a dick, right?” I ask.

  Addison emerges from the bathroom again. “Yeah, but he’s got a feminine side.”

  “So do I!” I argue.

  “And he’s large and very imposing. Dudes don’t mess with us nearly as often when he’s around. And he doesn’t complain when we ask him to hold our purses while we pee.”

  I glare at Bronson. He replies with a silent flex of his biceps as he passes me and sits down on a chair to wait.

  “Fine.” Raising my hands up, I back toward the door. “Whatever. I’ll ignore your obvious discrimination based on my gender and go hang out with Jonah instead. Guys’ night. No chicks or Bronsons allowed.”

  “Bye-bye!” echoes from the bathroom, prompting another wave of girlish giggles.

  Harmony sticks by my side as I exit the door. “Hey, Knox,” she says, stopping me.

  “Yeah?” I ask.

  “Did you need something?” she asks.

  “No. Why?”

  “Well, you knocked on my door, so…”

  “Oh. Right. I actually just swung by to see if you wanted to get together and strategize.”

  “Strategize?”

  “Daddy Dearest called me,” I say. “Gave me a talkin’ to because we haven’t been buzzy enough for his standards.”

  Harmony rolls her painted eyes. Smokey and glittery. “He’s not exactly a patient fellow,” she says.

  “Doesn’t seem like it, no.”

  “Well, do you want to have breakfast tomorrow?” she asks. “We can meet in the restaurant downstairs around… nine?”

  “Nine sounds good.” I nod. “Sure.”

  “You sure you’re good?”

  “I’m fine,” I answer. “You gals have fun. Take care of Bronson.”

  She chuckles. “We will.”

  “Don’t get him wet. Don’t feed him after midnight. But you know all that stuff. You remember.”

  “I remember,” she says, smiling.

  We linger for a moment before Harmony steps forward. Pushing up onto the tips of her toes, she kisses my cheek, her lips gently brushing against the edge of my mouth.

  “What was that for?” I ask, my stomach quivering.

  She darts her eyes over my shoulder as a woman in a housekeeping uniform quietly passes from behind me. Her eyes are wide from the celebrity sighting, but she keeps it discreet and continues down the hall in silence.

  “Oh,” I say once she’s gone.

  Harmony opens her mouth to say something, but the door opens behind her and the others come pouring out.

  “I’ll see you at breakfast,” she says.

  I step back, staying out of their way. “See you at breakfast,” I say.

  I stand still, waiting for them all to pass me. I give Bronson a hard glare at the end of the line and he gives me a wink. Truthfully, I’d rather he go with them than have them all go alone. They’ll be safe in his hands.

  I knock on Jonah’s door down the hall. It takes a minute, but he finally opens up, wearing a pair of flannel pants and an old T-shirt, his hair in need of a comb.

  “Are you already in bed?” I ask, shocked.

  “Uh, no,” he answers. “Well, I was napping. A little. But⁠—”

  “Sweet. Get cleaned up,” I say. “We’re going out.”

  Jonah steps back. “I don’t know, man, I’m kinda tired. Can we go out tomorrow night?”

  “We have a show tomorrow night.”

  “Oh, all the more reason to stay in and get some rest.”

  I follow him in, watching in silence as he plops onto his bed and grabs the TV remote to lower the volume. “The girls are going out,” I say.

  He nods. “Girls’ night out.”

  I sigh. “Was this posted on a calendar somewhere? Or in a group chat?”

  “The girls talked about it on the bus. This morning. In front of you.”

  “Oh. Right. Yeah, this morning I was…”

  Knox.

  Knox.

  Deeper.

  “Somewhere else,” I say, clearing my throat. “Anyway, we should go out, too. Find a bar. See a movie or something.”

  Jonah points at the TV. “Fried Green Tomatoes is on right now.”

  “Fried Green— bro.”

  “What?”

  “Are you actually being serious?”

  “What?”

  “We are young, fierce twenty-something rock gods on tour in Los Angeles, and you’re in your jammies at seven-thirty watching Fried Green Tomatoes on cable?”

  “It’s one of my mom’s favorite movies,” he says. “We always watch it for her birthday, but we won’t get to this year since I’m on tour, so yeah, I’m watching it now. Also, Marla is supposed to call in an hour.”

  “Man, screw Marla. Let’s go get fucked up!”

  His soft Botsford eyes singe with fire, giving me about three seconds total to take back what I said before he makes me bleed.

  “Sorry! Sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean that. I’m just… going through something tonight.”

  “Obviously,” Jonah says, settling back against his headboard.

  I stare at the floor, his words slowly sinking in to a place I thought was years away. Decades. “Hey, Jo, you ever get the sense that our lives just aren’t as criminal as they used to be?” I ask.

  “What do you mean?” he asks.

  “When’s the last time we got into a bar fight?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Or outraced a speeding ticket?”

  He cringes. “Sounds reckless.”

  “That’s the point! We’re Criminal Records, Jonah. Criminal Records. The Rebels of Rock! But we haven’t done anything even remotely out of line in years. We wake up, we play songs, we go to bed at a decent hour.”