“Not today, Sam. This doesn’t concern them. Oliver is here, though. It does concern him.”
The woman nods. “Hello, Oliver. I’m Samantha Turner, Genevieve’s manager. You can call me Sam.”
“Hi, Sam. I’m Oliver, the cause of all Genevieve’s problems, apparently.”
Genevieve huffs and shoves me. “What he means is, I’m his problem.”
Sam grins, clearly liking what she’s seeing. “You both look like trouble. Should be fun.”
“Okay, so can I assume then that you two are in a relationship and this is about confirming your status rather than denying it?” the other woman interjects. She’s younger, with long dark hair and piercing eyes. Her naturally friendly features seem to disguise a bite I’m guessing wouldn’t be fun to experience. “I’m Selena, Gen’s publicist, by the way.”
“Hi, Selena,” I say, lifting my hand in a small wave. I’ve already decided I’m going to be useless in this conversation. These women clearly have control of the operation and my best move is to keep my mouth shut and listen. It reminds me of the time I thought for five seconds I could help my sisters plan Lea’s thirteenth birthday party. Short answer: Shut up, Oliver!
“Yes, we’re in a relationship, and it’s serious,” Genevieve says. “We’re confirming.”
The others nod, and I see their brains already working. “Great,” Selena says. “And Regina Jeffries?” She directs that question to me.
“I have no idea,” I say with a shrug. “She came up to me at the club and tried to flirt until I politely sent her away. She was at the table maybe five minutes?”
The women don’t even flinch, just nod again and make more notes. “Okay, thanks,” Selena says. “This shouldn’t be hard to clear up. Figured it’d be quick if we’re confirming. I’d like to see you together publicly in the immediate future. Gen, your next performance is tomorrow night, correct?”
Genevieve nods, looking uncertain for the first time tonight. “Yeah. I’m doing that show in Las Vegas.” She casts a concerned glance at me.
“Oliver, are you able to attend?” Selena continues. “It doesn’t have to be the whole night. Just enough to snap a few photos backstage. Does that work?”
“Um…” I review my schedule in my mind. I begin training again tomorrow, but if I get an early start I can probably be done in time to get to Las Vegas, even if I’m late. “I guess so?”
“You don’t have to. You have your rehab,” Genevieve says, tugging my hand until I face her. “It’s your first day back and that’s a four-hour trip.”
“Do you want me there?” I ask, searching her eyes.
She bites her lip, something flashing across her face. Longing. Hope.
“I’ll be there,” I say to the others before she can respond.
“Perfect,” Selena says. “We’ll work out the logistics. Okay, on to the bigger problem. Gen, the rehearsal today? What was that about?”
“I was sick,” she lies. Selena and Sam both give her a look that distance and a phone screen can’t block.
“White Flame isn’t happy,” Sam says. “First rehearsal, Gen. This was a big one. We’re going to lose time over Christmas as it is.”
Genevieve flinches and looks away for a moment. After a long pause, she glances back up. “I know, I’m sorry. I really wasn’t feeling well. I’ll be at the next one on Monday.”
Selena looks relieved, but Sam’s brow still slants with concern.
“If you have to cancel again, please call us first so we can strategize and smooth things over with White Flame,” Selena says. “Sam’s right. They’re pissed.”
“I’m sorry. I just…” Genevieve looks down, and I tug her hand. Tell them! Tell them something’s wrong! She glances up at me, reads my imploring look, then tears her gaze away to focus back on the others. “I think it might have been food poisoning,” she lies.
Do they buy it? Selena, maybe. Sam, no.
“Ah. Well, we’ll get this sorted out. Okay, I think we’re good for now. I’ll send my notes shortly, along with any follow up questions,” Selena says. “You good?” she asks Sam and Genevieve. Both nod, and Selena sends a tight smile. “Good to see you Sam, as always. You too, Gen. You look fantastic, by the way. Whatever you’ve been doing the last week or so, keep it up.”
“Thanks,” Genevieve says.
Selena disappears from the screen, and Genevieve reaches for the disconnect as well when Sam calls out to her.
“Just a second if you have time,” Sam says.
Genevieve tenses and sighs. “Sure, Sam. What’s up?”
Sam’s gaze passes between us. “Are you ready to tell me what’s really been going on? Come on, Gen. We’ve known each other for years. I know something’s up.”
Wow. Points for her manager. I watch Genevieve struggle with the question and resist the urge to jump in. It’s so obvious this woman cares about her and wants to help. All Gen has to do is say the word and Sam can work the paths I’m helpless to clear for her. Moral support? All day. She needs a shoulder, a fighter, a friend? I’m there. But when it comes to her career and this industry, I might as well be the maintenance guy picking up garbage after the show. I’m used to team play, everyone with their roles. It’s obvious what Sam’s is and she’s damn good at it, so why won’t Gen let her off the bench?
Genevieve’s hand tightens in mine. Her foot makes sharp arcs in the carpet as she stares at it. Say it! Tell her you’re not happy.
“Nothing. Everything’s fine. Just been overwhelmed.”
I manage to swallow my grunt. This girl is going to drive me crazy.
“Food poisoning?” Sam asks. “Again? You had ‘food poisoning’ at the meeting last week too. You seem to get food poisoning a lot around White Flame. Are you not happy with them?”
Genevieve pales, her eyes huge and round before she lowers her gaze again. Maybe she really does
