Grace Unplugged: A Novel (19 page)

“Okay,” Grace muttered as she continued on into the kitchen. She wanted to ask how Kendra knew so much about this stuff—except she already knew the answer—personal experience. Grace poured herself some cranberry juice and slowly sipped it and returned to the living room to stand like a mannequin while Kendra held up various items of clothing to Grace—the paper doll routine again. Then Kendra would lay the garments out on the couch, layer on accessories and belts and shoes or boots, building a wardrobe with more than enough outfits to choose from.

Next Kendra had Grace try some of the clothes on to make sure the fit was right. Then she made lots of notes in her notebook, mapping it all out so that the shoot would go as smoothly as possible. After about an hour Grace started feeling better. Not like her usual self but well enough to cooperate with Kendra as she picked the final outfits for the video shoot. These were the clothes Grace would eventually wear when the cameras were rolling. Thankfully they were not rolling this morning.

“Time for coffee,” Kendra announced. “You do have a coffeemaker don’t you?”

Grace nodded.

“Coffee and dry toast,” Kendra explained as they went into the kitchen. “Part three of my personal remedy for hangovers.”

“Okay, Grace started making coffee while Kendra made some toast.

“And some more juice won’t hurt either,” Kendra told her.

By the time Grace finished Kendra’s “remedy,” she actually did feel better. Not great by any means but definitely better. She thanked Kendra. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she told her, watching as Kendra made some more notes. “Most of the time I feel pretty lost anyway. But it’s reassuring to know that you’re watching my back.”

Kendra held up a short, flouncy skirt to Grace’s waist, eying it carefully then shaking her head no. “Yeah, I watch your back and your front and every other angle,” she joked. “Gotta keep our superstar looking hot.”

Grace slumped down into a chair. “I sure don’t feel like a superstar today.”

“Hey, everyone overimbibes sometimes, Gracie. Don’t beat yourself up.”

“That’s not it,” Grace said dejectedly. “I mean, yeah, I’m not proud that I got drunk. But I was talking more about my music. I sure don’t feel like a superstar when Mossy tells me my sales have gone flat.”

“Everybody’s sales go flat at times. But when they’re as talented as you are, they pick up again. Besides that’s what the video’s for—to give a boost to the single. And then there’s your next song. It’ll boost things too. Trust me, Sapphire knows its business. So does Mossy. Sales might be flat for awhile, but we’re all working to change that.”

“But what if it
doesn’t
work? What if this ride is about to end?” Grace felt teary-eyed again. “I don’t know what I’ll do if I fail.”

“Stop worrying about it. And don’t forget that we’re still in the top fifty, Gracie. Really, you’re doing fine.”

Grace still felt unsure, and the idea of her crawling back home was truly disturbing. To have to admit to her parents that they were right and she was wrong . . . well, it was too hard to think about. Kendra held up a vest then looked directly into Grace’s eyes.

“Baby,” Kendra said gently, “the media hits are just starting. We’ll get a bump. I promise you. Just give it time.” She tried a scarf now, looping it around Grace’s neck a couple of times. “And WideSpin alone has eighteen million uniques. Eighteen million!”

Grace brightened. “That’s a lot.”

“You bet that’s a lot.” She held up some big hoop earrings. “Plus, people need to see you. Seriously, when they see you, they’ll
buy
you. Which is why we need you to look hot for the video, and we want you to look hot for a certain actor.” She winked as she tried some dangly beaded earrings. “It will all work out, Gracie. I believe in you.”

Grace relaxed a little. She wanted to believe Kendra. “Hey, that looks good,” she pointed to the last outfit Kendra had assembled. “I like it.”

“I do too.” Kendra nodded with satisfaction as she started to box up the ensembles into separate boxes. Everything was marked and numbered, and Grace knew that with Kendra in charge of her appearance, she was in good hands. “There.” She dropped her pen and tablet back into her bag. “Now, we’ll just leave the boxes here for the intern to pick up, and he can bring them to the shoot.”

“Okay,” Grace frowned. “Except don’t give him a key this time.”

“Why? Is he hitting on you? I’ll fire him.”

“No, no, I just . . . you know, I don’t like him having a key to my place. Actually why does anyone besides me have a key?”

“It’s standard, baby.” Kendra reached for another box—not one of the ones that contained the video outfits—this one was shiny and pink and mysterious looking.

“What’s that?”

Kendra made a sly grin. “Got you a present. Go ahead, open it.”

“Seriously?
For me?”
Grace untied the ribbon.

“Yeah, I was doing some shopping for myself, and I saw this and thought it would be perfect for you.” She giggled as Grace extracted something red and lacy from the tissue paper. “Or maybe it’s more for Jay.”

Grace studied the skimpy lingerie. She’d never owned anything like this in her life . . . never wanted to. In fact, she and Rachel used to make fun of garments like these, laughing over why any girl would lower herself to wear something so skanky, not to mention uncomfortable.

“Oh, my,” Grace felt her cheeks warming with embarrassment. She didn’t know what to say. “Uh, thanks.”

“Isn’t it great?” Kendra exclaimed. “Jay’s gonna love it. Or you in it anyway.”

“You really think he’s
that
kind of guy?” Grace asked quietly.

Kendra looked at Grace as if she’d just sprouted a second head. “Baby,” she said slowly, “every guy’s that kind of guy.”

Grace placed the sleazy piece back in the box, covered it with pink tissue, and securely replaced the lid. Then, forcing a smile at Kendra, she tried to sound grateful as she thanked her again. But she could sense Kendra looking at her now, studying her closely, almost as if she thought Grace had come here from another planet. And maybe it was true, maybe she had.

Chapter 16

O
n Saturday night, Grace was scheduled to play at the Roxy. As always, she arrived early with her stylists; and after security let them in, they made their way backstage. Grace was surprised at how normal this was all starting to feel. Walking into a club or a theater and feeling like she belonged, like she was welcome. As she headed back to the dressing room with her entourage in tow, she thought how this felt just like a scene from a movie—only this was way better because it was her life.

Kendra had just gotten her all dressed, and Phoebe was putting the finishing touches on her hair and makeup when Mossy burst into the room.

“Hey, you ever hear of knocking?” Grace asked as she strapped on her guitar.

“I figured if you weren’t ready to get out on stage, you deserved to be surprised.”

“What’s up?” she asked. She could tell by his face that something was going on.

“The WideSpin bump was bigger than expected,” he told them.

“Really?”

“You just got the green light for the radio tour.”

“No way!” Grace was dancing around the room, high-fiving Phoebe and Kendra.

“Congrats,” Phoebe told her.

“Way to go,” Kendra made a knowing nod. “See, I told you not to worry.”

Grace grinned happily. “And you were right.”

“But that’s not all,” Mossy said.

“What?” Grace demanded. “Hurry and tell me before I have to go out.”

“Sapphire wants to contract the follow-up song!” he exclaimed.

“That’s awesome,” Phoebe said.

“Cause for celebration.” Kendra held up her glass.

“Wow,” Grace didn’t know what to say. She knew she should be wildly excited, but all she felt was anxiety.

“And . . .” Mossy gave her a sly look.

“And?” She studied him. “There’s more?”

“They want to record before you leave on the radio tour.”

“Before the tour?” She tried to act enthused.

“Gotta keep the machinery rolling,” he said. “They’ll be getting it ready to release while you’re touring. When it comes out, it’ll give a fresh boost to the single. And then the single will boost the new song.” He laughed. “And that’s just the beginning!”

“Gracie Trey,” the stage manager yelled into the dressing room. “You’re on in five.”

“Knock ’em dead,” Phoebe told her.

“Rock the house,” Kendra added.

“Gracie Trey is here to stay!”
Moss called out.

Johnny looked at the digital clock on the kitchen stove as he poured himself a glass of milk. “It’s three-thirty AM,” he said aloud. “Do you know where your child is?” He took a swig and sadly shook his head. Then, feeling hopeless and depressed, he went out to the living room couch, where he’d been camping on other sleepless nights like tonight. He didn’t know if the milk actually helped, but he preferred it to the Tylenol PM pills he’d tried last week. They left him feeling too fuzzy and sleepy in the morning.

He considered turning on his computer but knew where that would get him. He’d start out by doing a Google search of Grace’s name—aka
Gracie
Trey. That would bring all sorts of disturbing things to the surface, including a gossipy music blog where photos of his little girl drinking and partying with Jay Grayson would pop up. Or else he’d start to write her an e-mail, attempting to pour out his heart and beg her to come home. But it would get longer and longer until even he could see how pathetic it sounded. And he knew she would hate it. So he would delete the post and start cruising the net and end up reading frightening stories about unfortunate singers or actors who’d made bad choices or simply been the victim of someone else’s bad choice.

He couldn’t take much more of that. And so he would just sit there in the darkness, attempting to pray, but most of the time he ended up berating himself for allowing this to happen. Because, despite what Pastor Tim and Michelle kept telling him, he did blame himself. He wasn’t absolutely sure what he could’ve or should’ve done differently. But as the head of this household, as Grace’s father, he knew it was his job to protect. But how was he supposed to protect someone who refused his protection?

Finally, in his tired and depressed state, one particular word would assault him like a final blow.
Failure
. Johnny Trey was a failure. A great big failure. He had let everyone down.

“Can’t sleep again?”

He looked up to see Michelle standing in her nightgown with the hallway light behind her. He couldn’t make out her face in this light, but he knew her expression—a mixture of sleepy concern and disappointment.

“I’m all right,” he grumbled. He wanted to tell her to just go back to bed, but he knew where that would get him. A fight.

“I know you can’t sleep, but why don’t you at least come back to bed?”

Now he wanted to tell her to just leave him alone. What difference did it make to her if he was awake out here or awake in bed? He was
awake
. Get over it. But he knew that would only hurt her feelings. And even though he felt angry, he didn’t want to hurt her . . . not anymore than she was already hurting.