Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 53466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
“It was wonderful. I have to admit I wasn’t sure about overseas travel, but I’m so glad I let your father talk me into it! We even rode donkeys down the side of the mountain.”
“That’s nice. I can’t wait to see pictures … and to see you,” I say, and before I can speak again, my mother goes on to relay more about the history of the places she saw on her trip, totally self-absorbed and failing to mention coming to visit and to ask about my life.
“Molly, we have to go! We have early dinner reservations soon.” My father’s voice sounds in the background.
“Can I talk to Dad?” I ask.
“He just walked out to meet me in the car. We’ll call you soon, dear. Bye!” The picture goes blank, with a double beep for emphasis.
I sit stunned, staring at the disconnected screen.
My parents have obviously not only learned to separate business and family, they’ve decided not to care about my career at all. No matter how excited they are about their trip, and I understand it was a trip of a lifetime, how could they not acknowledge or ask about the competition? My singing? My well-being? I swallow over the lump in my throat and lower the laptop screen, clicking it closed.
I love my life. I understand I am working toward a goal, but sometimes, I am just lonely. I press a hand to my eyes and hold back tears.
I jump at the feel of a hand on my back.
“Easy,” Ben says in a gruff voice.
“I forgot I wasn’t alone.” I straighten my shoulders, not wanting him to be a witness to my sadness. I’ll just pull myself together and forge on.
“Are you okay?” he asks, sympathy in his voice. He obviously heard me mention my appearance and my mother’s preoccupation with her trip. My father’s disinterest in talking to me.
I swallow hard. “I’m fine.”
“I don’t believe you.” His hand moves, gliding from my shoulder to the back of my neck, moving my hair aside so he can massage my tight muscles. “Things have changed between you and your folks since the time you were on Star Power. Want to talk about it?”
“What’s the point?” I ask.
“You might feel better.”
I brace my hands on my thighs and try not to focus on how sensuously good his fingers feel pressing into my skin, molding my flesh in an attempt to relax and settle me down. In one way, he accomplishes his goal. His touch takes me out of my own head and makes me forget about being upset with my parents, but I doubt he intends the physical reactions he inspires. The awareness now searing along my flesh, my nipples tightening, arousal trickling through my veins.
I close my eyes and imagine those talented hands working their way around to my breasts, cupping my heavy mounds in his hands, and kneading the supple flesh. Plucking and pulling at my already hardened nipples until the desire runs straight to my sex, my clit a hard, pulsing knot of need.
“You’re relaxing,” he says, those fingers working magic and weaving a sensual spell.
If he only knew.
“Now talk to me. What happened between you and your parents?”
I blink, and my apartment’s familiar surroundings come back into focus. My body still buzzes with arousal, but I force myself to concentrate on reality, not fantasies Ben won’t be making come true.
I sigh and begin to explain. “While I was on Star Power, a performance opportunity came up for right after the cross-country tour, and my parents didn’t handle the negotiations professionally. Because of what they considered my front-runner status—” I say, making air quotes with my hands. “—they thought they could push harder and make demands.”
“I guess that didn’t go over well?” Ben removes his hands, and I feel the loss. He shifts apart from me on the sofa, meeting my gaze.
I shake my head. “No. They demanded so much the people in charge gave the opportunity to someone else who was easier to deal with. Who had a real agent.” I blow out a long breath. “You know, the irony, it wasn’t that the particular performance meant so much to me but what the situation made me realize. The producers on Star Power and the even the musicians who took an interest in the talent on the show encouraged me to hire someone who understood how the business really worked.”
“So you did.”
“Yes.”
“And it didn’t go over well with Mom and Dad,” he correctly surmises.
“Not at all,” I murmur, not wanting to revisit the painful conversation I had with my mother and father. “But we’re family, and I made it very clear I wanted them in my life and involved in my career as far as giving opinions to me and seeing performances. You have to understand they’d been with me since the beginning when I was five and I sang at a local fair. It was always just the three of us.”