Amber by Elle Casey

Amber by Elle Casey

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Author: Elle Casey
Genre: Contemporary Romance
File Name: amber-by-elle-casey.epub
Original Title: Amber (Red Hot Love Series Book 1)
Creator: Elle Casey
Language: en
Identifier: MOBI-ASIN:B0756BWX25
Publisher: Montlake Romance
Date: 1515427200
File Size: 706961.408

In the bright lights of the big city, she’ll find red-hot music—and red-hot love.

Fiery, free-loving Amber Fields has just discovered she’s the daughter of a 90s rock legend. The bright lights of New York City are a world away from her life on a hippie commune in Maine, but Amber is determined to get answers—and give her absent father a piece of her mind.

When she tracks down her father’s band in Manhattan, answers seem hard to come by. Stories she was told as a child don’t add up. And then there’s the band’s replacement lead guitarist—the troubled, sexy, intriguing Ty Stanz—who is anything but welcoming. He just wants to play music, and to him, Amber’s an opinionated, unwanted distraction. He’s not into commitment and she’s not into the music, but they’re both tied to the band and soon sparks begin to fly.

The more time they spend together, the hotter things get. They’re bound by music—could they also be bound by love?


Table of Content

  • 1. Unnamed
  • 2. ALSO BY ELLE CASEY ROMANCE Red Hot Love (3-book series) By Degrees Rebel Wheels (3-book series) Just One Night (romantic serial) Just One Week Love in New York (3-book series) Shine Not Burn (2-book series) Bourbon Street Boys (4-book series) Desperate Measures Mismatched ROMANTIC SUSPENSE All the Glory Don’t Make Me Beautiful Wrecked (2-book series) PARANORMAL Duality (2-book series) Pocket Full of Sunshine (short story & screenplay) CONTEMPORARY URBAN FANTASY War of the Fae (10-book series) Ten Things You Should Know About Dragons (short story in The Dragon Chronicles) My Vampire Summer Aces High DYSTOPIAN Apocalypsis (4-book series) SCIENCE FICTION Drifters’ Alliance (3-book series) Winner Takes All (short story prequel to Drifters’ Alliance in Dark Beyond the Stars Anthology) To keep up-to-date with Elle’s latest releases, please visit www.ElleCasey.com To get an email when Elle’s next book is released, sign up here: http://www.ElleCasey.com/news
  • 3. Unnamed
  • 4. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Text copyright © 2018 by Elle Casey All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher. Published by Montlake Romance Publishing, Seattle www.apub.com Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake Romance Publishing are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates. ISBN-13: 9781542047050 ISBN-10: 1542047056 Cover design by @blacksheep-uk.com Cover photography by Matthew Hegarty
  • 5. For Mary Walker, fellow author and fellow fan of (almost) all things French.
  • 6. CONTENTS CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE CHAPTER THIRTEEN CHAPTER FOURTEEN CHAPTER FIFTEEN CHAPTER SIXTEEN CHAPTER SEVENTEEN CHAPTER EIGHTEEN CHAPTER NINETEEN CHAPTER TWENTY CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE CHAPTER THIRTY CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE CHAPTER FORTY CHAPTER FORTY-ONE CHAPTER FORTY-TWO CHAPTER FORTY-THREE CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE CHAPTER FORTY-SIX CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT CHAPTER FORTY-NINE BRIGHT LIGHTS. BIG CITY. RED HOT LOVE. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  • 7. CHAPTER ONE I’m washing dishes at the communal kitchen sink when a low-slung black sports car pulls up to the house. I don’t recognize it as belonging to anyone I know, but I’m familiar with the make and model from a magazine a visitor to the farm left behind last week. It’s a Mercedes-AMG GT S Coupe . . . otherwise known as a sorry-about-your-penis car. My mouth turns down at the corners as I toss my sponge onto the counter. “Barbara!” I shout out into the air. “Someone’s here.” “Who is it, Amber?” my mother answers faintly from upstairs. She’s busy making everyone’s beds, one of the many in-house chores she performs for our large, unconventional family. My other mother, Carol, joins in, her voice muffled as it comes from inside the pantry where she’s running an inventory of the jams and jellies we sell at the local farmers’ market. “Is it that woman from the town council again? Because if it is, I’m fully committed to giving her another piece of my mind. She’s already had two, but I
  • 8. CHAPTER TWO My sisters and I each have a stack of legal papers in front of us. Em and Rose are too stunned to speak, but unlike them, I’ve never suffered that effect when under stress. “So, what you’re saying is, we all have fathers who are alive and well, and after twenty-five years of ignoring us, they’ve decided they want to give us a pile of money?” I still can’t believe the number I saw on that paper. Eight figures? Ten million dollars each? Utter and complete bullshit is what it is. I can feel my ears burning with the anger that’s building up inside me. I honestly don’t know who exactly I should be angry at right now, but that doesn’t stop me from seeing red. Em reaches over and takes my hand. Her fingers are clammy. “Not exactly,” the lawyer says—Greg Lister, Esq., his business card reads. “They want to meet you. They want to see the women you’ve become. And in exchange for this privilege . . .”—he says that last word with a heavy note of sarcasm—“. . . you will be given an inhe
  • 9. CHAPTER THREE Three days later, after the anger and disillusionment have abated a fraction, my sisters and I are sitting on my bed in a circle, considering our options. “I think we should just ignore the whole thing,” Em says, twisting the comforter around her finger. “Now that we’ve talked it over with the moms and we’ve come to this place of forgiveness with them . . . aren’t we just asking for trouble by going to New York, especially when we don’t even want their money?” “We can’t ignore it,” I say. “We at least need to tell them what we think about them trying to buy our forgiveness.” I’m still angry when I think about it. Time has not diminished my emotional reaction to finding out that my sisters and I have fathers out there who’ve ignored us for twenty-five years. Forgiving our mothers for being young, afraid, and way too dedicated to the success of these music men is one thing, but seriously . . . Who do these guys think they are, showing up out of nowhere and dangling a fortun
  • 10. CHAPTER FOUR I step off the plane and flip open my new budget cell phone—one of two my sisters and I bought to communicate with one another while I’m off the farm. They kept one and they’re supposed to keep its existence a secret from our moms. I don’t want the old ladies to try to contact Lister and cause trouble for my big plan. As I make my way to the exit of JFK Airport, I send Rose and Em a quick text, telling them I arrived safely and am headed out into the Big City. I didn’t check a bag because I don’t plan on being here longer than a day, so all I have is my big multicolored-patchwork purse slung over my shoulder. I’m trying to blend in with the crowd and act like a native New Yorker as I make my way through the airport, which shouldn’t be too difficult since there’s every size and shape of person in here with me, but damn . . . all I can do is gawk. I’ve never seen so many people in one place in my life. I was worried I’d stick out in my homespun hippie wear, but I just passed
  • 11. CHAPTER FIVE I look up at the building that is so high I can’t even see the top of it from inside the cab. So that’s why they’re called skyscrapers. The trip from JFK to this building has officially blown my mind. I always knew Manhattan was a big place. Even living the sheltered life I have, I read about it and saw pictures of the skyline. But intellectually understanding it’s huge and actually experiencing it firsthand are completely different things. There were several points along the way that I lost my breath, but it wasn’t from fear; it was from excitement. This place is so very, very different from the farm, but in a good way. I could probably drive over this bridge every day of my life and never get tired of that view. “Here we are,” the cabbie says. “You want to pay using a credit card or cash? Just touch the screen in front of you and make your choice.” “Are you sure this is the right place?” I check the business card in my hand and the number on the outside of the building.
  • 12. CHAPTER SIX The elevator doors open into a large lobby. I expected to be dropped off into a hallway, so I stand inside the elevator a little too long as I take in the immense open space furnished with leather chairs and couches, glass tables, and metal sculptures. I feel as though I’ve been riding in a spaceship and I’m being delivered to command central. The doors begin to shut. Thankfully, a man sticks his hand between them, keeping them from closing completely. As they slide open I get a good look at his face. “It’s you,” I say, surprised to see Mr. Lister standing right in front of me. He does not look happy. “Yes, it is. And here you are.” He looks me up and down. I lift my chin. He is not going to intimidate me by judging me again. “Yes, I am. I have some things to say to you and your clients.” He glances briefly to his left, in the direction of the reception desk. There are three women and one man sitting there. They look very busy, but I get the distinct impression that they’re
  • 13. CHAPTER SEVEN It turns out that the Four Seasons Hotel is not that far from the lawyer’s office, after all. I follow the security guard’s instructions and walk for twenty minutes amid the cacophony of blaring horns, yelling construction workers, and quickly accelerating taxicabs, and find myself outside the front doors of another big building. This one looks older in style than Lister’s office. It’s also not as tall. Yes, it’s scraping the sky, but not as much of it. And it’s not all glass either, although the front of it has a very tall section that’s split in half by a fan-shaped overhang. There are three men standing outside in uniform. One of them gives me a funny look as I enter, but the others ignore me as they chat between themselves. I enter through the clear doors and make my way across the lobby’s geometrically patterned marble floors and up a short set of stairs to the front desk. I feel like I’ve just entered a palace. I wish I could say I feel like a princess, but when I c
  • 14. CHAPTER EIGHT What does that even mean?” I ask. A replacement for an irreplaceable man? Ty still seems lost within himself when he answers. “It means that I took over the job of lead guitarist for Red Hot after Keith James died, but according to pretty much everyone in the entire world, I’m not up to the job.” Now the makeup, hairdo, and tattoos are starting to make sense, along with the fact that he was in Lister’s office. “You’re not up to it because you can’t play their songs well enough?” I find it hard to believe that a band as experienced as Red Hot would accidentally hire someone unqualified. “No, that’s not it.” After trying to imagine my mothers’ reaction to him being onstage, knowing how much they cherish Keith James and all the rest of the band members, I nod. “Okay, I get it. You’re thirty years too young, you’re not sporting a teased mullet, and you don’t yet have a beer gut, wrinkles all over your face, or hanging jowls.” He looks up at me slowly, his expression at first
  • 15. CHAPTER NINE I’m too upset by the way Ty treated me to stay in the room any longer. I’m a nice person, I know I am, but he made me feel like I wasn’t. He insinuated that I’m a gold digger and that I came all the way down here to New York City to fleece the man who claims to be my father. I am not going to lie down on that bed and cry over something some guy who doesn’t deserve a single one of my tears said. I’m way stronger than that. I throw my bag over my shoulder, drop the card key inside it, and leave the room. I’m going to have one of those damn papaya hot dogs before I leave here, no matter what. I need to have something good to tell my sisters when I get back instead of all this bad-news garbage. I walk to the corner and look at the street signs. I’m pretty sure the roads in Manhattan are numbered, and if I just head in the right direction, I’ll eventually hit Seventy-Second. According to what I’m seeing here, I’m at least ten blocks away from my destination, but a long walk is
  • 16. CHAPTER TEN Rose picks up the phone immediately. “What’s going on? What happened? Tell us everything. I’m going to put you on speakerphone.” Just hearing her voice makes me feel better. A wave of homesickness washes over me and gives me goose bumps. I can’t believe how much I miss my sisters. I haven’t even been gone a whole day yet. “Is she there?” It’s Em, sounding a little panicked. “I’m here. Can you guys both hear me?” Their chorus of voices sounding extra cheerful as they yell, “Yes!” creates a stabbing feeling in my heart. “Okay, cool. So here’s what’s going on right now . . . I need your help.” “Anything,” Rose says in her confident voice. “Whatever it is, we’re here for you. And we feel really bad about letting you go down there alone, by the way.” “Yeah,” Em chimes in. “We should’ve gone with you. We totally chickened out, and we’re butts for doing that.” “No, it’s fine. It’s better you aren’t here. Not everybody is very nice. It’s been a little depressing, to be honest.” Mor
  • 17. CHAPTER ELEVEN I’m used to doing a lot of hard work at the farm, but for some reason, simply walking to and from the hot dog place has exhausted me. I think New York is draining the energy directly out of my body and feeding it to the surrounding environment. I don’t like this nearly as much as the city giving me its energy like it was earlier. For this reason, I decide a nap should be my next big adventure, but I’m not fifteen minutes into it when there’s a sound from the other room waking me up. I sit up straight as a board and look around, momentarily confused as to where I am. I take in the tasteful wallpaper, the paintings, the expensive furniture around me, and the brightly lit New York City skyline at the foot of my bed, and I realize . . . I’m on a mission. But instead of enjoying my one and only trip to Manhattan, I am sleeping off a hot dog stupor like a senior citizen. A knock at the door reminds me of what woke me up in the first place. I get up and wipe the drool off the s
  • 18. CHAPTER TWELVE I am so glad I went to James with my problem. He knows everything about this city and its shopping situation. Now that I know I can get pizza by the slice for a dollar and that I’m going to an event tonight that probably will have food, plus the breakfast tomorrow that will probably be paid for by the band, I know how much I can afford to spend on clothing. I soon learn, however, that all the stores I might have gone to without James’ guidance would’ve only afforded me a pair of socks on my shoestring budget. But thanks to the concierge of all concierges, I’m learning everything I need to know about thrift stores—which ones have the best stock, when they get shipments in, and who has the best deals. I’ve also had a full training session from a friendly stranger on how to navigate the complicated subway system. I have visited three stores, located all over the city and in Brooklyn, and I now have a complete outfit that does look pretty damn hot if I do say so myself. I’m
  • 19. CHAPTER THIRTEEN Whoa! Wait a minute! What the hell is that?!” I shriek. I reverse through the door onto the landing at the top of the stairs. “You never said anything about a helicopter, for Pete’s sake!” Ty has to yell to be heard over the sound of the flying machine whose blades are moving faster and getting louder. “If I had told you, would you have come?” “No!” Riding on a regular plane was difficult enough. This would be akin to dangling myself over the city on a string. He lets the door close so we can hear each other better. “It’s perfectly safe. I’ve been on a hundred of them by now.” “But it’s going to be dark out soon.” “They fly using radar. It’s safe, I promise. And you’re not gonna believe what the city looks like from up there. I swear, it’s something you’ll never forget.” I’m panicking as I envision my fiery, painful death. “But what if it crashes?” Fire. Twisted metal. Smoke. Blood. He gives me a scolding look. “Come on, hippie chick. People ride in helicopters all the
  • 20. CHAPTER FOURTEEN What Ty calls a little event, I call a monster party. A limousine takes us from the small executive airport in a city I haven’t yet managed to identify to a club that’s been rented out specifically for the thing we’re here for . . . whatever that is. The place is packed, and the minute Ty enters, he’s swarmed by fans. Two large men step up and take positions on either side of him. He quickly grabs my hand and pulls me in close. He speaks to the guy on his left, yelling to be heard over the music. “She’s with me. Don’t let her get lost.” I look at the two guys who appear as though they could be professional fighters and realize they’re acting as bodyguards tonight. They keep the crowd at bay as we move through the throng to the bar. “This is insane!” I yell. People are shoving one another, trying to get near Ty. Women are practically crying when they look at him. Guys don’t seem concerned whether they’re assaulting these women or not . . . they just want a piece of the
  • 21. CHAPTER FIFTEEN I want to say that the band sucks, but I find myself singing along to every song they play. I’ve probably heard each one of them over a hundred times . . . maybe a thousand times or more in total, so it’s no surprise that I can. I picture my moms dancing around the house and singing at the top of their lungs, hugging one another and collapsing into giggles on the couch. Red Hot music always made them so happy. It makes me sad that they had to leave that relationship behind for my sisters and me. I stare at each member of the band, trying to pick up clues as to who might be my father or Rose’s or Em’s. I don’t see any resemblance to any of us, but maybe it’s because they have so much makeup on and that hair . . . Oh my god, that hair. What on earth are they thinking? I know big-hair bands are coming back in style, but these guys are not pulling it off. I don’t think my critical feelings are coming from the fact that they’re family-abandoning jerks either, especially when
  • 22. CHAPTER SIXTEEN I want to say that I’m feeling brave and confident as hell, but that would be an utter lie. I’m shaking and breaking out in a cold sweat, and my heart is hammering away big-time. I think the chopsticks in my hair are clicking together to the same beat as my chattering teeth. It feels like I’m walking in subzero temperatures when I know good and well that the body heat collecting in here is warm enough to steam up the front windows of the club. “They’re in a private room upstairs,” Lister says. “There are lots of people up there with them, but we’ll ask them to leave.” We climb a steep set of stairs and go down a long, dimly lit hallway. He stops outside a door that has two bodyguards on either side of it. “Are you ready?” he asks, looking down at me. “No. Definitely not.” I grit my teeth together so he won’t see they’re chattering. His expression softens. “If you don’t want to do this, just say so. I can send you back to New York on the jet, and you can see them in the
  • 23. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN As soon as I get inside my room, I shut the door and lean against it. I’m so exhausted, my brain actually hurts. The band’s music is still inside there, thump, thump, thumping against my gray matter. I search through my bag as I limp over to the bedroom, looking for one of my homeopathic remedies for headaches. For the first time in my life, I’m not confident it’ll work. I think the problem is that the pain in my head is originating in my heart. I use the kettle in the tiny kitchenette to steep the herbal concoction from my bag before taking out my cell phone. It’s late, but I know my sisters are wondering what’s going on. I finally got a text back from them that told me to call when I returned to the hotel, and Em is a night owl, so she’ll be waiting up for sure. What am I going to say to them? Are they going to be disappointed that I didn’t give those men a piece of my mind? There’s only one way to find out; I dial their number and put the phone to my ear. Em picks
  • 24. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN I wake up with a hell of a hangover. All I had were three glasses of champagne, so this situation isn’t one bit fair. I clean my teeth using the toothbrush and toothpaste supplied by the hotel and put on the clothing that I was wearing yesterday, slipping into my real ballet flats—not the hastily constructed ones—as I head to the door. I need to eat some breakfast. I’m going to put it on my tab here at the hotel and send Lister some money for it when I get home. Screw going out to Central Park. After that terrible night’s sleep, all I want to do is hibernate until it’s time to leave. I’d order in room service if it weren’t so expensive. The phone on the small table by the door catches my eye because there’s a blinking red light on it. I pick up the handset, pressing the message button. A recorded voice plays. “Good morning, Amber. This is Red. I hope you don’t mind me contacting you at your hotel. I was just wondering if you might have time for a cup of coffee this mor
  • 25. CHAPTER NINETEEN At first I don’t see Red. There are several people in the lobby, but I finally find him hiding behind an open newspaper. He’s wearing a cowboy hat, Western boots, and dark glasses, with rings on almost every finger. If he wanted to be incognito, he should have tried harder; he’s easily identifiable from a hundred yards as an aging rocker. But at least his hair is tied back in a ponytail and not teased up to the sky. The lines on his face are deep, and when he stands up to greet me, I can see he’s stiff by the way he moves. “Good morning, Amber,” he says in a gruff voice. “Don’t you look beautiful.” He reaches toward me and I stiffen, not expecting the warm welcome or the contact. It doesn’t stop him or even slow him down, though. His arms go around my shoulders and he gives me a short hug, patting me on the back. He smells like aftershave. There’s a man who used to stay at the farm who wore the same scent. He looked like Santa Claus and always made us laugh. It’s a poi
  • 26. CHAPTER TWENTY Red leans in, resting his bejeweled hands on the tablecloth, fiddling with the silverware by his plate as he delivers his proposition to me. “As you mentioned before, we have a bit of an image problem and some issues with integrating Ty into the band. This is not news to us. But what you don’t know is that we’ve got a new deal on the table with another label that we’re real happy about for the most part, but they’ve mentioned some of the things that you have.” “The need for an update?” His mouth twists before he answers. “Pretty much. We’re not exactly comfortable with the idea, but that’s not the worst part of it. The worst part is that the person they’ve assigned to handle that updating process is a complete wanker.” I almost laugh but manage to keep it in. “What does that have to do with me?” “There’s room in our contract for negotiation. What would you think about helping us out? On a temporary basis, of course. Very short-term thing.” “I don’t think I’d be intereste
  • 27. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE As soon as I’m in my room, I call my sisters, but the phone just rings and rings, and neither of them answers. I think about my next move and realize there’s only one for me to make. I can’t just sit here in this hotel room wondering what I should do. I’ll walk around in circles and wear a hole in this expensive carpet. I call the house phone at the farm and wait for someone to pick up there. “Yello.” “Is this Barbara?” “No, this is Carol. Amber?” I nod. “Yes, it’s me.” “What’s wrong? You sound like you’re crying.” “I am.” I take a deep, shuddering breath, trying to control my emotions. “What happened? Tell me what’s going on.” “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” She instantly goes tough on me. “I know you’re in New York City, and I know you’ve met with the band, so out with it.” “They told you?” I didn’t think to instruct my sisters to keep our conversations to themselves. Is everyone going to be angry at me when I get back? All that thought does is make me cry harde
  • 28. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO I can’t wait around in this hotel room all morning for my sisters to get back from wherever they are—probably talking to the travel agent about a new ticket for me. I need to clear my head. I leave the room with my bag over my shoulder and take the elevator down to the lobby. I wave at James and Jeremy on my way out and stop just outside the main doors. I look left and right, trying to figure out which direction I should take. “May I help you find something? Would you like me to call you a cab?” I smile at the older gentleman who works as a doorman for the hotel. “Actually, if you could tell me how to get to Central Park from here, that would be great.” He points up the street. “Just head in that direction for two blocks. You can’t miss it.” Now that I look in the direction he’s pointing, I think I can already see it. Duh. “Thank you very much.” “Don’t mention it.” I walk with purpose, glad to be out. The fresh air is bracing. My mood has shifted considerably; today’
  • 29. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE We take several winding paths through the trees and over little hills. It’s beautiful in the park. There are lots of people walking with their dogs, with friends, with family members, or alone. There’s even a man with a tiny pup using a little wheelchair for the dog’s back legs. I wish I could take a picture to show Rose. I make a mental note to tell her about it later. “It’s just up here,” Ty says. We reach a small clearing with something embedded in the pathway in the shape of a circle. Ty points to a building across the street at the edge of Central Park. “That’s where Yoko Ono lives, at the Dakota. It’s the same place where John Lennon was shot and killed.” I look at the building that seems very much like many of the others I’ve seen. But it isn’t. Of course it isn’t. It’s where a music legend, known for preaching about tolerance and love, had his life taken by a madman. I feel very blue all of a sudden. Before, when I heard of a musician being killed, it was s
  • 30. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR The first store we go into is way too foofy. There are turtlenecks on every mannequin and so much plaid I feel like I’ve been teleported to Scotland. I check out one of the price tags on a cashmere sweater and nearly choke on my own tongue. Fifteen hundred dollars? Are they insane? Ty is looking around with a pained expression. “You look constipated,” I say, trying not to laugh. “I think I am getting constipated looking at these things.” “Why are we even here?” I giggle. “Because our style consultant told me this is where I need to shop.” “Your style consultant needs surgery.” “Surgery?” he asks, looking at me all confused. “To get the stick removed from her butt.” “That’s what I’m thinking.” He grins. “You want to get out of here?” I nod. “Please.” This clothing is hurting my eyes. Everywhere I look there’s another dead animal: a fox fur collar on a suede coat; leather jackets; crocodile bags; snakeskin shoes. Ugh. It’s no better than a taxidermy shop. We head out
  • 31. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE As we’re leaving the store, I hear my phone ringing in my bag. I stop immediately and dig around until I find it. I look at Ty apologetically. “I have to grab this.” He nods and takes my hand again, guiding me while I answer the call. “Hi, it’s me,” I say. I have an attack of the sillies now that I’m finally talking to my sisters. I have so much to tell them. I’m holding hands with a rock star! “Hi, Me,” Em says laughing. “You sound happy.” “I might be.” I can’t give her details because the man behind my happiness is standing right next to me, guiding me toward a coffee shop. “Yay! Tell me about it.” “What’s going on with you guys?” I say, trying to direct her away from the subject of me and the crazy emotions that I can barely control. “Well, we went and got you another plane ticket, but now I’m thinking that was a mistake.” “Why?” “Because I talked to Carol. It sounds like maybe you have other plans now?” “I’m not sure. I really need to talk to you about it, but n
  • 32. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX The walk back from the café to my hotel remains mostly a blur, but the part where Ty comes up in the elevator with me to my room and then stands outside my door . . . that will be burned into my memory for the rest of my life. “What are you doing tonight?” he asks. He’s playing it cool, so I’m going to try to do the same. “I’m not sure. I have to talk to Lister and see what he says about all this stuff.” “All of what stuff?” I don’t know how much the band has shared with Ty about this job they proposed to me; it can’t be much because he hasn’t mentioned it, and now he’s wondering why I need to talk to Lister. Outside my hotel room doesn’t really seem like the place to talk about it either. Best to be vague. “Just some things I discussed with Red this morning.” “Oh. So . . . are you going back home today?” “Maybe. It depends on what happens with Lister.” “Cool.” He looks over his shoulder down the hall and then at the floor between us. “If you’re going to be around, m
  • 33. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN I cannot believe I just put my boobs on the glass of Lister’s copy machine. Am I insane? I think Em was right about me; when I see problems, I feel like I need to solve them, regardless of whether it’s a good idea or not. I need to learn how to control myself, because I’m in a city loaded with people who have issues. Lister goes into the conference room where my papers are still sitting and waits for me to take a seat. My face is burning so hot, I know it has to be flaming red, but he doesn’t say a word about it. “I see that you signed all the documents.” “Yes. I couldn’t remember the telephone extension Jennifer gave me, so I went looking for her and ended up . . . in that other room.” I finish weakly, knowing that this does not explain why my breasts were pressed up against the glass of his copier. “Wait here and I’ll have a check brought to you for the advance.” The jaw muscles on his face are clenching and unclenching. I look up at him as he towers over me. He’
  • 34. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT I thought the bank was going to be a hassle, but the people in there were really nice. An hour after arriving, I’m walking out the door with a thousand dollars cash in my purse and a brand-new debit card. They also offered me a credit card, but I declined. My mothers have told my sisters and me for years and years that living on credit is a bad idea, so I’m paying cash wherever I go. And the first place I need to go is the underwear store. After the driver opens the door and helps me get settled in the car, I lean forward, holding on to the front seat. “Mr. Blake, I need to get some clothes. Do you know a good place where they have everything, including underwear?” He clears his throat, staring straight out the front window. “Yes.” “For regular clothing, I like the vintage stuff. I already went to a few stores around town I liked. My favorite was over in Brooklyn. But they don’t really have underwear, and even if they did, I probably wouldn’t buy it because it’s us
  • 35. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE I’m glad I decided to go shopping and buy some new things. Now I can finally have a nice hot shower and use all these new products I bought to make my hair and skin smell delicious. In the vintage shops I directed Mr. Blake to, I was able to find some fabulous clothes for not a whole lot of money, and if I wear every outfit three times, I have enough clothing for my entire two weeks here and I won’t have to go shopping again. I even bought a new purse that goes with everything. It’s totally wild—sporting every color of the rainbow with sparkles sewn onto it. I love it so much, it’s my favorite thing about New York so far. Except for Ty . . . and my new job. I drop my new wallet, my key card, and my telephone inside the purse along with a few odds and ends, and put it on the front table near the door of my hotel room. Ty left me a message with his address, but I still have a half hour to kill before I leave. All dressed up and nowhere to go. I stare at myself in the
  • 36. CHAPTER THIRTY Ty is back in just a few minutes, and he takes the chair next to me. He’s holding a remote control, which he aims over the back of his head to start a film rolling. The lights dim with another touch of a button. “What is this?” The film that starts to play looks very amateur in style. “These are some home movies I had put together from some old films my parents had.” The first few minutes of the show are of a little boy. He’s holding a guitar. His hair is messed up and long. It makes my heart go soft. “Is that you?” He’s pudgy, running around in the backyard with the plastic instrument, his body covered in dirt. Next to him in a baby seat is an infant with a blue blanket over him. “Yeah. That’s me and my brother, Sam.” “I didn’t know you had a brother. Is he your only sibling?” “Yeah. It’s just the two of us.” A big man comes in and fills the screen, beefy with a large gut. He grabs Ty by the wrist and swings him up into his arms, causing the little boy to drop his guita
  • 37. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE I follow Ty through the apartment, and he brings me into his family room. He flicks on the television and messes around with something in a nearby cabinet and then comes back over to hand me a small black box. “Go ahead and have a seat,” he says. I look down at what’s in my hands. “Are we going to play video games?” “Yeah. Do you like ’em?” He presses some buttons on his controller as he aims it at the TV. Several screens flash by. “I’ve never played one before.” He pauses. “You’re not serious.” He’s looking at me and smiling like a little kid. “No, I am serious. I almost never watch TV either.” He walks over and flips a switch on the wall, leaving just the dim glow from the television to light the room. “I’ll try to take it easy on you, since this is your first time.” “I am a video game virgin.” The words come out before I think too hard about what they could mean for us. He smiles devilishly. “Is that so?” “Can we forget I just said that?” “Not on your life.” He ta
  • 38. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO This is my first time in a recording studio. Before arriving, I had only a vague idea of what to expect. This one, being in Manhattan, is pretty small, though, I think. There’s a booth with a large window at the end of the long, narrow room. It has a collection of things inside it, mostly instruments and microphone stands with headphones hanging next to them. Outside the booth on one side of the room are couches, chairs, and small tables, plus a few mini fridges, and on the other side, across from the furniture, are various mixing boards and computer screens with two seats in front of them. There are windows above the furniture, making it possible to look out at other brick buildings in this more industrial area of the city. Ty and I walk in together, but we’re not holding hands. That would be totally weird. The car ride over here was strange enough. There’s nothing like that awkward day after unplanned sex together when you can’t really talk because somebody else is
  • 39. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE I’m standing in front of the group of men again, still without Ty, but I have a lot more confidence now and newfound hope that things just might work out. “Okay, so that was a good little meeting.” Cash looks over at Red. “And he’s only missing part of his ass. You failed to chew it all off.” I smile. As if I could ever chew these guys out. “Ha, ha. Very funny. But seriously . . . let’s talk about Ty while he’s not here.” “He’s gonna love that,” Paul says, rolling his eyes. “No, he probably won’t if all he hears is that we talked about him behind his back. But when I have a chance to tell him what we discussed, I don’t think he’s going to be too upset.” “I’m not sure if you know him well enough to say that,” Mooch says. “The kid is pretty sensitive.” “Maybe because you keep calling him a kid and treating him like one.” I give him the look that my mother gives me when I’m being sassy. He presses his lips together and nods slowly. “From my perspective, which is total
  • 40. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR I enter the lobby of the Four Seasons, searching for James. I’m confident he’ll be able to direct me to a hairdresser who can solve my problem. My first stop is the check-in counter. The receptionist directs me to a special office where I find James sitting behind a desk shuffling papers. He looks up at me and smiles. “Hello, Ms. Fields. It’s nice to see you again.” “You too, James. I’m here to see if you can help me out with something.” He stands and points at the chair across from his desk. “Please, have a seat. I’ll do whatever I can.” “Cool.” I sit down and arrange my fancy purse on my lap before I begin. “I have a group of men who need new haircuts. These are people who have been living in the eighties all their lives, so I need somebody who can do an updated look but not something so shocking that they can’t adjust to it.” He folds his hands in front of him, resting them on the desk as he nods. “Let me think about this for a couple seconds.” I know I’ve come t
  • 41. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE After chatting with the hairdresser and securing an evening appointment tomorrow for the entire band, I finally have time to talk to my sisters. I press the speed dial button and pray they’ll pick up as I walk down the sidewalk. Mr. Gerald Blake is on his way back to the Four Seasons alone; I need some time to get my head straight. “Hello?” “Rose? Is that you?” “Yes! Amber, I’m so glad you called. I was starting to get worried about you.” “Why? I’m fine.” “Because . . . you haven’t called in a while, and I know you have a lot of news.” “You’re right. I do.” I fill her in on the details, including the fact that the band is about to start their makeover tomorrow. “That’s pretty amazing that you were able to get them appointments in one day. I thought those New York hairdressers had waiting lists.” “This one does, but when you walk in and say you need to get a bunch of celebrity haircuts, the waiting list gets a lot shorter. Normally, they close at eight o’clock at nig
  • 42. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX I’m about twenty feet from the front door of the Four Seasons when a woman who I think is going to walk right past me stops and smiles. It’s a little disconcerting, but I sidestep, smile back, and continue on. “Excuse me . . . ,” she says loudly from behind me. I pause and turn around. “Yes?” She’s definitely talking to me; she’s staring right at my face as she positions herself in front of me. “Hello. Are you, by any chance, Amber Fields?” I stare at her, blinking in shock. I don’t recognize her as an employee of the hotel, but she knows me by name, so she must be. “Yes, I am.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a small black device. “Hi. I’m Elizabeth Mathers from OMG News. I hear you’re dating the lead guitarist for Red Hot, Ty Stanz. Is this true?” My jaw drops open. I thought the black thing in her hand was a cell phone, because it looks a little bit like mine, but now I realize it’s not a phone at all; it’s some sort of recorder. “Who did you say you are ag
  • 43. CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN I leave a message on Ty’s voice mail. He’s probably busy in the recording studio with the band, and I don’t want to bother them, so rather than call the studio to track Ty down, I leave it at that. If I’m going to be working with the band for two weeks, I need to learn how to deal with these reporters, and I can’t go running to Ty or Red every time someone tries to get an official comment from me. This person Elizabeth from whatever stupid paper she’s with has figured out that I’m somehow associated with them, so I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before others do too. And I doubt she’s going to be satisfied with only one attempt at getting a story from me. I stand in front of the mirror in the bathroom practicing my new plan for encounters with the paparazzi: “No comment.” I change my tone to sound more confident. “No comment!” I try various inflections. “No comment. No comment. No comment!” This is the phrase I’ve heard other people use on television during the
  • 44. CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT A simple knock at my door nearly gives me a heart attack. It’s him. Ty is here. I walk over and look through the peephole. He’s in the hallway, dressed all in black. His hair is crazy and his makeup dark. I’m afraid it matches his mood. I open the door to let him in. “Hi.” I’m suddenly shy. “Hi.” He looks me up and down, giving me no indication of what he’s thinking or feeling. “Can I come in?” I move out of the way. “Sure. I’m glad you came.” “Me too.” The moment I shut the door, he pulls me into a hug. His arms wrap around me and hold me tight. Whatever misgivings I might have had before he got there melt away. I’m surprised by how enthusiastically he’s embracing me, but I’m not complaining. I hold him tightly, just breathing and enjoying the sensation of his body against mine. He’s warm, solid, and all man. I had no idea what I was missing out on not having a boyfriend. Not that he’s my boyfriend or anything, but this is two nights in a row we’ve been together,
  • 45. CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE Ty and I are lying in bed together the next morning, still half-asleep, when he rolls over and begins stroking my shoulder. He’s spooning me from behind and I wiggle, trying to get closer to him. “I need to talk to you about something,” he says, his morning voice rough from sleep. His tone tells me sex is temporarily out of the question. “What’s up?” I hope he’s not regretting all the fun we had last night. We went four rounds, and I’m probably not going to walk right for a week, but I’m happy about everything we did, and I wouldn’t change any of it for the world. “Yesterday . . . during practice. Things didn’t go so well.” I twist my head sideways, trying to see his face. “What happened?” I slide around to my back so I can see him more clearly. His hair is tousled and his eyeliner smeared. I lift myself up enough to give him a kiss and rub his cheek before falling back down onto the pillows. “Tell me. Maybe I can help.” He shakes his head. “I don’t think you can. W
  • 46. CHAPTER FORTY I enjoy watching the band jamming together more than I thought I would. Time just flies by. Before I know it, we’re ordering dinner in and sitting down to enjoy pizza and beer together. “I thought that went pretty well,” I say to the group, biting into my slice of pepperoni. It’s delicious—cheesy and hot. “It’s a little rough, but we’ll get there,” says Paul. “We might get one song out of it,” Red says, not sounding as positive. Ty clears his throat. “What would you guys think about bringing in a songwriter?” Cash, Paul, and Mooch glance at one another before turning their attention to Red. Everyone waits silently for his response. “Who did you have in mind?” He stops eating his pizza and stares at Ty. I would hate to have him look at me like that; he doesn’t seem exactly thrilled about the idea. “Maybe my brother. If I can find him.” “Where is he?” asks Mooch. “I don’t know. He moved out of my parents’ place a few years back, and I lost track of him. I think he’s still i
  • 47. CHAPTER FORTY-ONE Like I said, everything was going great and then it wasn’t,” Red explains. “The four of us—Mooch, Cash, Keith, and I—were trying to hold things together. But Darrell was fighting us on it. He kept telling us we needed to cut the dead wood and focus on the music.” “He was jealous,” Cash says. “He wasn’t getting the attention from the girls that some of us were, and it made him angry.” “It wasn’t just that,” Mooch says. “He had a point. We were partying a little too hard. After the success of the first two albums, we started taking it easy. Too easy. We were more focused on having fun than working.” Cash nods his agreement. “True.” “What about my mothers leaving? How did that happen?” I can’t believe how nervous I am; I’m actually trembling as I wait for his answer. “We went to Albuquerque for a show. It was the first one that your mothers didn’t go to with us. I remember Barbara telling us that her mother was sick and they all needed to go spend some time with her. I a
  • 48. CHAPTER FORTY-TWO I think it’s a good thing that we have hair appointments tonight. The conversation got so heavy, there was no way out of it without a lot more tears, except for the fact that José Fernando Luis Velasquez was waiting for us at his salon. I wish more than anything I could call my sisters and tell them what’s going on, but I have no private time except for five minutes to use the bathroom before we’re on our way over. I’m sharing a ride with Ty. “So, that was kind of crazy, huh?” he asks. We’re holding hands in the backseat. “You could say that again.” I still can’t believe what I heard in the studio. He glances at the driver and lowers his voice. “Do you want to talk about it?” I lean into him so I can give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Maybe later. Maybe tomorrow.” It’s too raw for me right now. I need to let things settle. Not to mention the fact that when I have this conversation with Ty, it won’t be in front of a stranger who’s driving the car we’re in. He squeeze
  • 49. CHAPTER FORTY-THREE José has worked his magic. We are walking out of the salon as new people. Gone are the mullets and in their place are sophisticated rocker looks, their hair layered but long enough to touch their shoulders. For the first time ever, I actually find them handsome, and I’m pretty sure they think so too; they’re walking taller and prouder than when they came in. Ty looks pretty much the same. They took some of the length off the top and shortened the back and sides, but they’ve gelled it up into his trademark spikes, making it hard for me to keep my hands to myself. Red looks at his phone, frowning and putting it to his ear as we approach the front door of the salon. “What’s the matter?” Paul asks. I hardly recognize him. He’s way better-looking with his hair shorter. It’s as if fifteen years have been taken off. “My driver says there’s a crowd outside.” “Just go straight for the car,” Ty says to me, putting his arm around my lower back. I nod. José is standing at the f
  • 50. CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR When I wake up the next morning, Ty is sitting on the edge of the bed looking at his telephone and frowning. I angle up onto my elbows. “What’s wrong?” He shakes his head. “You don’t want to know.” I sit up more fully, pulling his arm over so I can look at his phone with him. He’s reading a news headline, and my picture is right on top of the article. “What the hell?” At least my hair looks good. He pulls his phone away. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.” I hold my hand out. “Give it to me. I need to read it.” He passes me the phone and stands. “I’m going to jump in the shower.” He hesitates, standing over me. “Promise you’re not going to get upset about anything you read there. It’s just people trying to sell their newspapers or get clicks on their websites.” “No promises,” I mumble. I read the article, which is full of conjecture and out-and-out lies. Apparently, I’m some sort of gold digger who has crawled out of the woodwork to claim my rightful throne as the heir
  • 51. CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE The people sitting at the reception desk in Lister’s office try to stop Ty and me from going past, but I’m not having any of their nonsense. I buzz right past and walk as quickly as I can down the hallway that I’m pretty sure leads to Lister’s office. I pass the copy room on my right. “Hi, Linny!” I yell as I rush by. She sticks her head out, but I’m gone before she has time to respond. I see the conference room next. I signed papers in there. Knowing Lister, I probably signed a contract donating one of my kidneys without even realizing it. “Take your next left,” Ty says. I turn around to thank him and realize that Linny is right behind him. I stop for a moment. “Sweetie, you’re not going to want to see this. I’m really angry at your uncle.” “Good. So am I.” “Why don’t you go make a photocopy of your butt? I’ll be there in a minute to do one with you.” She grins. “I already did.” I walk over and give her a quick hug. “You are so adorable. Please go wait in the copy r
  • 52. CHAPTER FORTY-SIX I leave Ty in Lister’s office, telling him I need to go to the bathroom, but instead I just go. With my heart breaking, I exit the building and jump into his car, telling the driver to take me to the Four Seasons. I rush up to my room, throw my new clothes into the shopping bags they came in, and go back downstairs. I ignore the phone calls coming to my cell as I get into the car with Mr. Blake driving. “I’d like to go to JFK, please.” He glances at me in the mirror but does as I ask. I cry all the way there. I make it to the ticket counter to claim my seat on the next and only flight out, which leaves in forty-five minutes. The universe has spoken; I was meant to leave now. I make it through security, but I’m forced to abandon all my delicious-smelling lotions. It makes me cry all over again. I don’t remember much of the flight; it passes in a blur and I’m too numb to think about what happened. The only thing that goes through my mind over and over again is that I’m
  • 53. CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN My phone shows eighteen missed calls, all from the same number. When I’m alone and the last puppy has been deposited in the laundry basket that is his temporary home, I press the green button on my phone. “I was starting to think you were never going to return my calls,” Ty says. “Are you okay? Where are you? I went to the hotel, but they said you checked out.” “I’m sorry. I’m home at the farm. I needed to get away, and I’ve been sleeping. I was exhausted.” “I get it.” He sounds as sad as I feel. “Trust me. I want to fall into a coma myself after that meeting at Lister’s place.” “Is everybody angry at me?” I cringe, waiting for his answer. “No. Why would anybody be angry at you?” “I don’t know. If I hadn’t come to New York, none of this would’ve happened.” “If that dick Darrell hadn’t stuck his nose into everybody’s business, none of this would’ve ever happened. You are not the problem, Amber. He is.” The phone goes silent. I can’t think of anything else to say. “Pl
  • 54. CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT I have no idea what time it is when I wake up again. My cell phone is dead. The light outside my window is dim, suggesting it’s either early in the morning or nighttime. I haven’t heard our rooster crowing, so I’m betting it’s the latter. I wander into the bathroom to pee and take a moment to brush my teeth. My hair looks like crap, but nobody in this house is going to care. As I reach the top of the staircase, I hear voices down on the main floor—deep voices. I slowly go down the steps, holding on to the railing. The lower I get, the more familiar those voices become. When I reach the bottom I stop and my jaw falls open. My living room is full of people, and they’re all looking at me. “Amber.” Mister Bigger-Than-Life himself, Red Wylde, is standing in the middle of our living room. My mothers are beaming, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen them look so happy. Cash is sitting in the recliner with a beer resting on his belly. Mooch is on the floor, feeding a puppy with
  • 55. CHAPTER FORTY-NINE Are you happy?” Ty asks me. I flatten the last moving box from the kitchen and throw it on the pile next to the front door. I’ve been in New York for three months now, and this is my biggest move yet: I’ve settled into a high-rise apartment in Midtown on the top floor, with my new roommate—the love of my life, Ty Stanz—who also happens to be the lead guitarist of Red Hot. Yeah . . . so, I’m officially a groupie, but it’s no big deal, because I’m also a high-powered businesswoman working my way up the corporate ladder in the music industry. I earn my keep, running a well-oiled PR and branding machine that no one can find fault with anymore, not even me. Miracle of miracles, I have a knack for the business, and every one of my instincts has paid off. An industry executive just called me yesterday, trying to lure me away so I could come work for his people. Of course I said no, since I kind of love the band I’m with now. “I’m very happy,” I say, accepting the glass of w
  • 56. BRIGHT LIGHTS. BIG CITY. RED HOT LOVE. In NYC, will Emerald follow her head—or her heart? Coming April 2018. Order now.
  • 57. ABOUT THE AUTHOR Elle Casey, a former attorney and teacher, is a prolific New York Times and USA Today bestselling American author who lives in southwest France with her husband, the youngest of her three children, and a bunch of cats, dogs, and horses. She writes in several genres, including romance, suspense, urban fantasy, paranormal, science fiction, dystopian, and action/adventure.

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