Midnight Diamonds (3 page)

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Authors: Cynthia Hampton

BOOK: Midnight Diamonds
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Come clean or lie again? Well, technically, it wasn’t a lie. “What can I say? He’s cute.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Becky cocked her head to one side and waited.

Silver relented with an embarrassed sigh. “Fine. I ran into the cowboy I hate most in the world and I kind of…sort of…told him I’m dating Justin.”

Becky’s eyes widened. “You lied to Chase? Why would you do that? You hate liars.”

“He was with a cute redhead named Darcy.”

“What happened to DeeAnn?”

“Exactly,” Silver responded.

Shaking her head, Becky turned and began walking toward the backstage area. “I hope this one doesn’t come back to bite you, Sil.”

Silver followed and whispered, “Me, too.”

 

Chapter Two

 

 

Justin stood in the dressing area with the contestants, offering congratulations and posing for pictures. As the last one walked out of the room, the stage manager said the press was ready to talk with him.

“Can I have one minute, please?”

“Sure thing, Justin.”

Standing in front of a mirror, Justin tousled his hair in a futile attempt to get rid of hat head. He paused and took in a deep breath.

Sometimes the reality of fame overwhelmed him. Despite all the warnings from his older brother, his dream was happening. No more rodeos. No more smoke-filled bars or trying to convince local radio stations to play his self-produced CD. No more hopeful YouTube videos. The screaming fans and record sales were proof that this was real.

And still he found himself wondering if something would get in his way or keep him from reaching the top. The emcee had mentioned ACMA’s Best New Artist, and damn, he wanted that award, no matter what it took. Although his manager had done a good job of getting him noticed, Justin had signed with a fairly unknown label, and he wanted top billing, the kind of exposure that would make him a household name.

More than anything, he wanted his family to be proud of him…to respect him again. Time to move past the year of stupidity that had nearly destroyed everyone he loved.

“Hey, Justin!”

“Almost ready for the press,” he answered, smoothing his shirt.

“They can wait.”

Justin turned to his manager, Sam Fletcher, a short, slender man with a friendly smile standing at the door. His brown hair was combed straight back and he wore a brown, western cut suit with dark brown boots. The man rubbed his hands together as he walked into the room.

“Great show. Listen, I have some news. You’ve heard of GramMer in Nashville?”

Justin nodded. “Who hasn’t? They’re the top talent agency in country music.”

“They want to talk.”

Justin’s heart pounded with excitement. The holy grail of representation and they wanted him. “Did they say when?”

“I told them to give me a call tomorrow and we’d set up a meeting.”

“Good, good.” He fake punched Sam in the stomach. “This could be it, Sam. For both of us!”

His manager laughed and dodged the punch. “Hell, it’s about time, right? Now all we gotta do is keep you in the news. Make sure your face is everywhere. I’ll handle that part.”

The stage manager knocked on the door frame. “Time to go, Justin. The press is getting restless.”

He smiled. “Right now, I’m ready for anything.”

Thirty minutes later, Justin’s face hurt from smiling for the photographers and answering what seemed like hundreds of questions. Next thing on his agenda was food. He picked up his cowboy hat and set it on his head. A woman’s voice stopped him.

“Mr. Rivers? Becky Sinclair with
Tulsa People
magazine. I have a few more questions if you don’t mind.”

Letting out a deep breath, he turned to ask if they could reschedule. The words died on his lips when he saw the women standing behind him. One had auburn hair, a bright yellow shirt, and a beautiful smile that made it hard to say no as she extended her hand.

He glanced at the woman beside her and his breath caught. Blonde hair framed green eyes and a delicate face, one he knew because they’d already met. There was no way he’d forget that pretty name or beautiful lady. “Silver. How’s Buddy doing?”

“Still working when I came in, so thanks again. Wow, you did a great job out there.”

“Thanks.” Realizing Becky’s hand was still extended, he shook it but spoke to the beauty beside her. “
Tulsa People
wants to talk to me? I’m nothing special.”

Becky stepped closer. “My editor disagrees and, after that fantastic song you did tonight, so do I. Can you spare a few minutes? I hope you don’t mind if Silver sits in with us.”

“Listen, I’m on my way to Tangled Saddles. If you ladies want to join me, I’ll answer your questions over dinner.”

Silver smiled at him. “That sounds great.”

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. “It’s a new barbecue place down the road a bit.”

“I’ve heard the food is delicious.”

“Meet you there?”

The reporter tapped his shoulder. “Uh, hello…party of three here.”

“Oh, right. Sure, no problem.”

Sam walked over to stand beside them. “Hey, Justin. Ready to go?”

“Sam, this is Silver. And Becky is with
Tulsa People
. Ladies, this is Sam Fletcher, my manager.” He put a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “I’m giving an interview over dinner at Tangled Saddles, so I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”

His manager crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t I need to be there?”

Becky frowned. “Not unless you’re afraid of what he might say.”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Just thinking about my client, that’s all.”

“Same here,” Becky replied with her head tilted. “I’m a professional, Sam, so I’ll do right by Justin.”

The manager watched Becky for a moment before giving her a tight smile. “Hey, it’s free publicity, right? Justin, call me and I’ll give you an update on that matter we discussed earlier.” He left the room, stomping down the hall.

Justin thought Sam had overreacted, but they’d talk tomorrow. Right now a beautiful lady waited for him. He turned to Silver. “Ready to go, darlin’?”

“Don’t call me darlin’.”

That was the second time she’d chastised him for the nickname. Why the hell didn’t she like it? “No problem, Silver.”

Becky motioned them both toward the doorway. “Still a party of three. Now that the apologies are out of the way, can we please eat?”

 

* * *

 

 

Silver hadn’t prepared for the media fiasco waiting outside Tangled Saddles. Members of the press blocked the door to take pictures of Justin, and reporters called out questions, asking who she was and why she was with him.

“How did they know where to find us?” she asked while trying to avoid the cameras.

“Looks like Sam tipped them off.”

Justin waved and worked his way through the crowd, but getting past them wasn’t easy. Finally Becky wormed her way into the mess and took control.

“Hey, listen up. Mr. Rivers is here to relax, and he’d appreciate some privacy.”

One man yelled out. “But who’s the girl?”

Silver ducked her head as Justin answered, “She’s a friend. Good to see you all and thanks for the hard work you do.” He put one arm around her and followed Becky who made a path through the crowd.

Once they were inside, fans cheered and rushed to greet him. She had to admit, he handled it like a pro. Glancing around the room, she saw Chase and Darcy sitting in a booth near the front. Now that cheater would see she wasn’t sitting at home, crying over him. While Justin finished with the fans and spoke to the hostess about getting a table, Becky gripped her elbow and pulled her back toward the door.

“You knew Chase would be here.”

Silver couldn’t look at her. “I heard him mention they were coming here, and I couldn’t pass up the chance to rub it in his face a little bit.”

“OK, I get it.” Becky leaned close to whisper as she cracked her knuckles. “But please let me do my job. My editor is counting on this article and I have a deadline tonight.”

“I promise. Just being here is enough, trust me.” She bit her lip. “Am I a terrible person?”

“Now that you’ve started this game, you have to play it. Like I said earlier, Sil, I hope this doesn’t come back to bite you.”

Justin motioned them forward, and they were seated at a table right across the room from Chase and Darcy. She pretended to not notice the redhead waving or Chase’s frown as she checked out the western décor.

Heavy wooden tables and chairs filled the room. Red leather booths lined two sides by the windows. Children’s booster chairs were shaped like small saddles. Each table had a blown glass centerpiece with a small votive candle inside and encased in rusty barbed wire; western paintings of cattle roundups and campfires were framed in weathered wood, and horseshoes held hurricane lamps on the walls.

It wasn’t her favorite kind of room, but it could be worse. At least there were no glassy-eyed, stuffed animals guarding the place.

“Ladies, what’s your pleasure?” Justin asked.

Wasn’t that a loaded question, especially when he raised one eyebrow at her and grinned?

She pretended to study her menu. “I’ll have what you’re having.”

He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t think so, dar…um, Silver. The hot sauce would probably make you faint.”

Irritation bubbled to the surface but she smiled at him. “You think I’m that delicate?”

Leaning forward, he studied her face. “Like a beautiful rose.”

Her breath caught at the softly spoken words, and she shivered as if he’d touched her. His dark blue eyes challenged her. “Roses have thorns, Justin. Bring on the hot sauce.”

With a resigned shrug, he ordered for the two of them, then Becky ordered a smoked chicken sandwich. After a server delivered their drinks, Becky pulled out a small notebook.

“Mind if I ask a few questions now?”

“Fire away. And I liked how you handled things with the reporters. Thanks.”

“Anytime, cowboy. Let’s get started.”

While Becky talked with Justin, Silver took a drink and stole a glance across the room. She nearly sputtered with laughter when she saw Chase glaring at them. She leaned closer to Justin, listening as he answered Becky’s questions. By the time their food arrived, the interview was done and Chase looked ready to explode.

Mission accomplished.

 

* * *

 

 

A huge platter of smoked brisket sat in front of her as well as French fries and coleslaw. There was no possible way she could eat all of this. Beside the meat sat a miniature glass mason jar of sauce. She’d seen the running water logo on the jar somewhere else but couldn’t place it. Dipping a forkful of brisket into the sauce, she grinned and took a bite at the same time as Justin.

Oh. My. God.

If fire from hell could be bottled, this was it.

Sweat beaded on Justin’s forehead and his mouth tightened with white lines. “Well?”

“This is the most amazing barbecue I’ve ever tasted,” she croaked, licking her lips. Wrong thing to do—don’t lick Hell. The room swam for a moment as she let out a burst of air from her burning lungs. Was smoke coming out of her mouth?

“Glad you like it,” he responded in a voice that sounded hoarse. “It’s called Triple Threat hot sauce.”

“Real smooth. Can we get more?” she asked before taking another small bite of torture. Her vision glazed over slightly.

“I think he’ll take everything he sees,” Becky quipped as she swiped a French fry from the platter.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Real men eat this every day.” He took a huge bite and grimaced as he chewed. Picking up his napkin, he wiped down the side of his neck.

Silver drained her water glass but the burn continued. “Can we stop now? You win.”

“Whew, thank you.” They all laughed as he motioned to a woman standing close by with two glasses of milk and more sauce jars. “Drink the milk first then we’ll try the Barely Burned level.”

She downed the milk and moaned with almost instant relief.

An older woman came to stand beside their table, hands on her hips. “Justin Rivers, what were you thinking?”

“Hey, the rose wanted to prove she has thorns. Sharon, how have you been?” He stood and hugged the woman.

Definitely older but nice looking, so a former girlfriend?

“I can’t complain. Things are staying pretty busy, and I don’t have time to call an ambulance because you want to test some girl’s mettle.” Sharon held out her hand to Silver. “Sharon Bradford. I manage this place and occasionally run interference for stupidity.” She gave Justin a pointed look.

Silver laughed and shook her hand. “Silver Madison. Nice to meet you, Sharon. This is my friend, Becky Sinclair, with
Tulsa People
magazine.”

The smile froze on Sharon’s face. “Silver Madison? Daughter of Amelia and Stewart Madison?”

“They’re my parents.”

The woman’s eyes shifted to Justin then back to Silver. “Well, small world. Tell them I said hello. Gotta get back to work. Dinner is on the house.” She turned and practically ran back to the kitchen.

Silver frowned. “Something I said?”

Justin shrugged. “I have no idea. I’ve known Sharon all my life, and I’ve never seen her act that way.” He picked up his fork. “Ready to go for something tamer?”

Cautiously, she tried the new sauce. After the first bite, Silver relaxed. “Wow, this is much better.”

He took a huge bite dripping with sauce. After chewing several times and wiping his mouth, he asked, “What grade level do you teach?”

“Senior English at Gordon A. Gladstone Academy.”

“GaGa? I’ve heard of it. College prep, very exclusive. You like teenagers?”

“Teaching is my passion,” she responded, dipping a French fry into ketchup. “I don’t like what I do, I love it. Or I did before today.”

Becky leaned back in her chair. “Oh yeah, I meant to ask. What happened?”

“Nothing important, just one of those days as a teacher.” She shook her head slightly in a way that said, “Later.” Becky nodded, letting her know she understood.

The three were quiet for a few minutes as they ate. Justin finished his dinner and pushed the plate away. “Will GaGa get any of the funds from tonight?”

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