Losing Johnny Hawkins had been a blow to the industry.
He risked a glance Loretta’s way. It would have been a hell of a blow to her. She’d worked with one of the best and now, this? She’d lost her long-term partner and been saddled with a backup singer to honor his memory. Was it any wonder she was so resentful? No. Hell no. He owed her an explanation—if not an apology.
“Thank you, for this. I know I’m a piss-poor stand-in for my father.” Travis waited for her to respond. At this point, any acknowledgment that he’d spoken was fine.
Her wide-eyed surprise wasn’t exactly the response he’d expected. “Stand-in?” Her voice sounded brittle. “You mean…”
Shit. “You didn’t know?” She honestly thought their record company would put him up as a first choice for this? That they’d put her with someone like him? Guess I get why she’s so pissed off. Now that he’d made her good and worked up, he didn’t have much hope he’d be able to smooth her ruffled feathers. Still, he tried. Maybe now that she knew he was the stand-in she’d cut him a break and turn down the hostility. “Daddy wanted to but, well, I’m sure you’ve read about my parents?” Everyone had heard about it—the radio, television, and every damn tabloid had run a piece on the downfall of the long-standing power couple.
She went back to studying the music she still held. “I’ve heard things are strained.”
“I guess that’s one way to put it.” He ran his fingers through his hair. His parents might not be officially separated yet, but that wasn’t stopping his mother from acting like they’d finalized their divorce. “Daddy heard she was coming to the awards show—with a date. He’s not taking the news well.”
She glanced his way. “No. That’s…no.”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “Daddy worried the attention over more King family drama might overshadow the performance. So, you’re stuck with me.”
Loretta stiffened, her full lips pressed flat and her eyes narrowing just enough to suggest she was holding something back.
Don’t ask. You don’t want to know. “If you’ve got something to say, go ahead.” He leaned back and braced himself. Whatever she had to say wouldn’t be pretty.
She hesitated briefly, took a deep breath, and said, “You…” She swallowed. “You think making the ‘In Memoria’ your return to the stage doesn’t do just that?” There was a not-so-subtle hint of accusation to her tone.
“Now? Yes. But that’s not why I’m doing this.” If he could go back… No, he’d do the same. “At the time, I was doing a favor for my father. He doesn’t ask very often.”
Her posture eased just a bit. “I’m sorry your family is going through this.”
“It’s been coming for a long time.” Which was true. As far as families went, he was pretty sure the Kings won when it came to the most emotional baggage. “Maybe they’ll be happier this way.”
This time, she didn’t hide behind her nails or the music. She wasn’t even trying to hide that fact that she was studying him now. He figured he had the right to do the same.
He’d seen dozens of pictures of her—videos too. A country girl. Unlike his sisters, Loretta wasn’t one for sparkles and bling. She looked every bit the country girl, sitting here in some frilly red top with a tie and little blue flowers or dots all over it. Red earrings—he’d noticed them swaying when she was singing. Faded jeans that fit just right and hand-tooled leather boots. A country girl, through and through.
But Loretta Gram the person? He was having a hard time figuring her out. She was something to look at. Thick and wavy hair, a mix of deep browns and reds and warmth that fell down her back. He’d already experienced the power of those eyes… They were something. The hint of gloss tinting her full lips was just enough to draw attention. She wasn’t smiling like she was in the picture Krystal had sent, but she was just as beautiful. Beautiful and angry.
“That’ll do it.” His father came out of the control room, nodding. “You two made some mighty pretty music today.”
“We’re done?” Loretta asked, slipping from her stool and offering his father the only authentic smile he’d seen her make all day. “Then I’d best be on my way.”
Travis stood too. “I’ll walk you out.” Things might have started out rocky, but maybe they could finish out the day on a more positive note.
“You don’t need to,” she argued, her smile going flat.
“I don’t mind.” He held the door open and followed her into the hall.
As soon the studio door closed behind them, she spun to face him. “As much as I appreciate what you’re doing for your father, I think it’s important that you know exactly where I stand on this…arrangement.” Her cheeks flushed deep pink.
So much for being positive. “I think I got the gist of it.” He shoved his hands into his pockets.
“I’d rather there was no confusion.” Her brows rose. “We are not friends. We will never be friends. Both of us are doing this for our career—period. You don’t need to walk me to my car or give me first pick of the stools or act cordial or even talk, really, since the two of us have nothing in common.”
“Considering how uneventful this recording session has been, this seems like an awfully strong reaction.” As far as he knew, he’d never done wrong by Loretta Gram. Overall, he was a likeable enough guy. Maybe less fun now that he wasn’t drinking, but still. This speech didn’t add up. “Did I do or say something to piss you off?”
“This isn’t about today.” She sighed, impatient. “This is about…you. To be frank, I just don’t like you. Period.” With that, she brushed past him, headed down the hall, and went out the door.
Travis stared after her, wondering what the hell had just happened.
Chapter 2
Loretta sat cross-legged on the side of the stage, watching the director and the choreographer argue. All around them was a flurry of activity, the stagehands, designers, and sound techs a coordinated team doing their jobs with efficiency—regardless of the drama unfolding on the stage itself. Right about now, she envied them. They could get their work done. She could not. Not until the director said they were good to go. Gabriel Luna, the awards show director, had yet to recognize her presence, let alone give her the thumbs-up to rehearse.
She was too far away to hear what the argument was about, but their body language stopped her from finding out. Not exactly riveting stuff, but she watched, devouring her snack-size bag of candy-coated peanuts. The alternative was acknowledging Travis King’s presence—something she was trying very hard not to do.