Best Of Everything by R.E. Blake, Russell Blake Read Free Book Online Page B

a public event’ look.”
    She nods. “Don’t let it get you down. We need you laser focused on making this launch work. Everything else has to take a backseat. Are we clear?”
    I’ve been expecting this, and suspect it was the whole reason she invited me out. She wanted to get a read on my stability and mood, and read me the riot act if she had to. She needn’t have bothered. I’m way better at beating myself up than she’ll ever be – I’ve had a lot more practice.
    I match the intensity of her gaze with my own.
    “Crystal, Terry. Crystal.”
     

Chapter 6
    The next morning I’m up early. I’ve got an interview with a national music pub at 10:00 and a syndicated radio program at noon. After that I’ll be at the record company’s offices going over set and lighting ideas for the tour, and signing off on cover art for the album – purely a formality, I’m sure, since if I completely hate it, they’ll still run it. I’m getting used to the entire illusion of choice, the way the industry works, and I’m fine with it. As Terry’s said a dozen times, if I go huge, it will all change, and then they’ll be falling all over themselves to do what I want. But for now I’m a pretty face and not much else, so I’m expected to suck it up and keep smiling, which I’m refining to an art form.
    Ruby picks me up at 9:30 and drives me to a coffee shop in Beverly Hills, where I’m totally out of place with my black jeans, Chucks, and long-sleeved concert T-shirt. The woman we meet there is in her early thirties, laid back with an easy smile, wearing nondescript business casual that makes her look like she works in a big-box store. She’s the West Coast stringer for the publication, and talking to her feels more like a discussion with a fan than a journalist – she’s seen every TV performance I’ve ever done and opens by telling me I’m one of her favorite singers.
    The coffee’s strong and the questions routine: What was it like working with Sebastian (fun and challenging), what song do I like the most on the new album (I love them all, but the first single has a special place in my heart), how do I feel about going out on the road for what’s looking like at least a year (excited), did I ever think things would snowball as they have (not really).
    These are all softballs I’ve been rehearsed on numerous times by Terry and Ruby, and I know the answers cold. I get the sense she wants to explore the Derek thing, but is holding back – it’s not part of the article’s scope, and she’s too much of a fan to push it, for which I’m grateful. After half an hour we shake hands and go our separate ways, and Ruby assures me the interview went well, which I already know. The publications basically print whatever press release the record companies send them – the content’s just filler between the soda, skin cream, and gum ads.
    The radio station is in Westwood, near the apartment, and we stop in so I can use the bathroom and freshen up before we head over for the show. Ruby is busy assuring me that the talk show host will play nice – apparently he’s normally a shock-jock type who’s built his following with abrasive commentary and inflammatory topics. I don’t listen to the radio, so I have no idea what to expect.
    We get to the radio station and it’s underwhelming. I was expecting something like Sebastian’s complex, and this is more an armpit. The waiting room smells like a high school locker room, and the harried receptionist looks jumpy as she juggles phone calls.
    The co-host, a weasel-faced man with a heavy East Coast accent sporting enough gold jewelry to start his own pawn shop, comes out of the studio and introduces himself as Fast Eddy. I’m guessing that’s supposed to mean something to me, and I smile and make nice. He leads me into the studio, which has sound-deadening baffles on the walls and feels too humid, and seats me in front of a microphone across from a morbidly obese man wearing