Little Secret, Red Hot Scandal. Cat Schield

Little Secret, Red Hot Scandal - Cat Schield


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      “Why wouldn’t she?” Javier demanded. “Having Ivy Bliss record her songs would be a good career move for her.”

      “Currently Melody is working on an album of her own. A song list hasn’t been finalized and I can’t promise what will be available for you until that happens.”

      “I have several songs I’m interested in. I’ll have Mia send her a list in the morning. I’m sure Melody will understand that I can do them justice.”

      “Perhaps you and Melody could collaborate on some new stuff,” Nate suggested, hoping the offer made Ivy squirm. “I’ve worked with her on several songs she’s recorded. I think you two would enjoy collaborating.”

      He smiled through the patent lie. If Melody caught wind of what he’d just offered, she’d probably kill him. Nate doubted anyone on the planet enjoyed working with Ivy Bliss.

      “I’m afraid my daughter will be too busy to write any music this year. This afternoon she signed a deal to become the new face of Mayfair Cosmetics. This will entail many media appearances beginning a month from now. We’d like to get in and get her album recorded as soon as possible.”

      So they expected him to clear his schedule? Nate wasn’t surprised. And he would not be bullied. “I’m afraid the next month will not be good for me. Let’s look at something after the first of the year?”

      “Ivy is doing a movie in January.”

      Once again Nate reminded himself that the reason he’d agreed to produce the album was to have time with Mia. And then something occurred to him. It was brilliant, and he kicked himself for not coming up with it sooner.

      His lips slid into a genuine smile. “Perhaps we could work something out. I’ll need to rearrange my schedule and would appreciate having Mia’s help to pull it off.”

      “Mia’s help?” Ivy frowned. “What could she possibly do for you?”

      “She understands sign language, doesn’t she? I could use her as a translator.”

      Javier frowned. “A translator?”

      “I’m going in for vocal cord surgery tomorrow and won’t be able to speak for at least three weeks. I can sign and Mia can relay my instructions.”

      “Couldn’t you find someone else to help with that?” Ivy demanded. “An actual interpreter?”

      No one else but Mia would do. “Mia knows the music industry and will understand what I’m saying.”

      “Daddy?” Ivy’s dismay was palpable.

      Nate fixed Javier with a flat stare. “Surely you can spare her for a month if it means getting Ivy’s album done.”

      Javier glanced at his daughter. “W-well,” he stammered. “Of course. If that’s what we need to do.”

      Nate gave a satisfied nod. “It absolutely is.”

      * * *

      Mia sat in a chair beside the window of her bedroom in Ivy’s house and stared at the front lawn. An hour earlier she’d watched her father’s Mercedes retreat down the driveway, and still couldn’t believe that she’d been forced to stay behind. More than ever her role as Ivy’s personal assistant grated on her.

      Though Mia felt trapped by her responsibility to Ivy, she knew that her sister carried an even heavier burden: the weight of their parents’ expectations. Mia barely remembered a time when her sister didn’t sing. She recalled their modest house in San Diego, where the twins had shared a bedroom with their older sister, Eva. Their mother had homeschooled all three girls, which offered the flexibility for Ivy to audition anytime an opportunity presented itself. And their parents were able to buy a bigger house when Ivy signed a contract for a new TV show on the KidZ Channel. While she wasn’t the star, in the show’s four-year run Ivy had demonstrated star potential, which had led to her landing a role in a Broadway musical and eventually a record deal with West Coast Records.

      With each rise in her career, the family home got bigger and better. Their father had quit his job with the post office to manage Ivy when she signed with KidZ Channel. Ivy became his whole focus.

      Which brought Mia to tonight, and the business meeting her father and sister were attending with Nate. And just as her presence hadn’t been needed at the Mayfair Cosmetics meeting earlier that day, Mia wasn’t included now.

      She wondered if Nate’s choice of WP24 had been for her benefit. She’d mentioned how she’d always wanted to try the restaurant, but that had been a couple months ago. Had Nate remembered?

      Mia’s stomach grumbled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten anything since noon. Even though her appetite was nonexistent, her body still needed fuel. Time to stop brooding and scrounge up something for dinner. Ivy’s housekeeper usually cooked some chicken in case Ivy felt like supplementing her junk food diet with something healthy.

      After pulling out the fixings for a salad and chopping up a chicken breast, Mia splurged with an extra tablespoon of ranch dressing. Too bad she gained weight simply by looking at French fries. As she headed into the den to watch some TV and hopefully take her mind off what was going on at WP24, she reminded herself that Nate had appreciated her full breasts, small waist and round hips.

      Both Mia and Eva took after their mother with their dark brown hair and eyes, pale skin and curvy bodies. Ivy was built like their dad, lean and sinewy, but she had their mother’s hazel eyes, smoldering charm and singing ability. Sharon Bliss had been an opera singer in her youth, but happily traded a career on the stage for being a wife and mother when she got pregnant with Eva.

      Mia had barely sat down when her cell phone rang. She smiled when she saw that the caller was Melody. “I feel as if I haven’t talked to you in ages. How are you doing?” she said by way of greeting.

      “I’m doing great. Working on my album.”

      “How many songs are you up to now?”

      Melody was a prolific songwriter with a powerful voice and distaste for the spotlight. The two women had become close while on tour. Mia didn’t realize how much she missed having a friend until she and Melody had clicked.

      “I don’t know,” Melody said. “Maybe around fifty. They’re not all good, but many of my favorites are the ones with the biggest flaws. How am I supposed to choose between them?”

      “I know the feeling. Some of my best stuff will never be heard.” Until she’d gone on tour, only her family knew that she—and not Ivy—was the author of Ivy’s hit tunes. Then she’d met Nate and Melody, and both of them had figured out her secret. Or maybe she hadn’t tried very hard to conceal it. Both were such talented songwriters that Mia couldn’t resist the urge to talk to them about their process.

      To preserve the illusion that Ivy was writing her own songs, Mia was always careful to work when no one was around. But sometimes a tune got into her head and she caught herself humming it. The same thing happened with lyrics. It was why she always carried around her journal.

      The notebook contained bits and pieces of songs and snippets of lyrics. It also included doodles and miscellaneous thoughts. She filled one every six months or so.

      “Nate could help you with that. I’m sure he’d be happy to work up some demos with you that you could shop around the industry. You never know what might get picked up.”

      “Actually, he’s already offered.”

      “And what are you waiting for?”

      Mia hadn’t explained to anyone the real reason she stayed at her sister’s side despite the way she was treated like hired help instead of family. It wasn’t Mia’s story to tell and she knew neither Ivy nor her parents would appreciate the information getting out. Not that Melody or Nate couldn’t be trusted with yet another of her secrets.

      “I’m not waiting for anything. It’s just that I barely have enough time


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