Lost Chances

By Monica Alexander

Two years ago, Van Salvatore made a mistake that he couldn’t take back, a mistake that cost him the girl he loved. Even though he never admitted it at the time, his world changed the day Elisa Donovan walked out of his life. When he finds out that Elisa is going to be traveling with his band Westside on their world tour, he knows he wants another chance. Of course it quickly becomes evident to Van that he and Elisa want very different things. But he vows not to give up without a fight. After all, he has an entire tour to win her back, and Van is nothing if not persuasive when he wants to be.

Elisa Donovan hasn’t forgiven Van Salvatore in two years, and she’s fairly confident she won’t be forgiving him anytime soon. The only reason she took the job with Westside was to further her career. Van was an unfortunate side effect of that decision, and she’s hoping to steer clear of him as much as possible. What she never counted on, though, was Van doing everything in his power to insert himself back into her life. Soon she finds herself wondering if she can let go of the past and give him a second chance, something she never thought she’d consider. But if Van really is different from the guy he was two years ago, and if she can find a way to trust him again, maybe they have a chance at being happy together. Maybe . . .

"Lost Chances" is the second book in the Westside series, but it can also be read as a standalone novel.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Monica Alexander
• Release date: Aug 16, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310550928

Monica Alexander

Monica Alexander is a writer of contemporary, new adult, and young adult fiction. In 2011, she turned her lifelong love of reading and books into a career when she published her first novel, "Just Watch the Fireworks". When she's not reading and writing, you can find her at the beach, in the mountains, or hiking through a city, soaking all the beauty of the world around her and turning her experiences into inspiration for her next book.

Book preview

Lost Chances

By Monica Alexander

Copyright 2015 by Monica Alexander

ISBN: 978-1-3105-5092-8

Cover Image: (c) Roman Seliutin / www.shutterstock.com Stock Photography

Smashwords Edition

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or personals, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All Rights Reserved

No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author.

The information in this book is distributed as an as is basis, without warranty. Although every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this work, neither the author nor the publisher shall have any liability to any person or entity with respect to any loss or damage caused or alleged to be caused directly or indirectly by the information contained in this book.

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Epilogue

About the Author

Playlist

Chapter One

Elisa

I couldn’t believe I’d taken this assignment. In fact, I’d mentally turned it down about nine times in my head, rehearsing the different ways I could let Katherine Baker, the CEO of the PR agency I’d worked at for five years, know that I wasn’t interested in her generous offer, her once in a lifetime opportunity, the offer my PR friends would have all killed for. I told myself I was turning it down. And I was turning it down for one reason – Van Salvatore.

Which in my mind was a perfectly legitimate reason. He was someone who’d hurt me, and because of that, I wanted nothing to do with him.

Of course I hadn’t always felt that way. Once upon a time, I’d been a naïve girl who’d fallen for the sexy, brooding, seemingly shy and sweet musician. And I’d fallen hard – even though we hadn’t even dated exclusively. He was a guy who’d gotten under my skin from from the first day I’d met him, and back then I’d wanted to be with him regardless of the terms.

I also knew being exclusive was a somewhat ridiculous notion given the worlds we lived in. Van was a member of Westside, an up-and-coming boy band that was traveling non-stop as they tried to gain fans and make a name for themselves. I was on tour with Sydney Chase, working on her promotions team, which meant I was rarely in the same city for more than a day. Our lives were crazy.

But Van was a guy I’d been instantly attracted to, and I couldn’t seem to stay away from him. We were friends for a year, and then one hot night turned into more. Before I knew it I was doing whatever I could to meet up with him when our schedules happened to collide. It wasn’t often, but we said we’d be together when we were in the same city, and I took full advantage of that promise. Then I tried not to think about the fact that when we weren’t in the same city we had the freedom to see other people.

I hated that part of our relationship, because as a rule I’d always detested the concept of dating someone and still seeing other people. But I knew Van, and I knew he’d never be able to give me more than that. He didn’t do monogamy, and I spent our whole relationship trying to be okay with that – until one day, when out of the blue, he said he wanted me to be his girlfriend.

I was completely shocked when he’d so unexpectedly said the one sentence I never thought I’d hear uttered from his lips. Because of that, I’d hesitated, and I didn’t answer him right away. Maybe it was my gut telling me to take pause because I had a sixth sense that I needed to listen to, or maybe I just knew Van that well, but as much as I wanted to say yes, I just couldn’t. So I told him I’d think about it. Then he slept with someone else and broke my heart.

Two years had passed since the night he’d hurt me like no one else ever had, and it had been just as long since I’d seen or heard from him. I’d never been able to hate him, but he also wasn’t someone I ever wanted to see again. That was why when Katherine had asked me to head up the promotions team for Westside’s upcoming tour, I knew I had to say no. Spending seven months in close proximity to Van sounded like a hell I had no desire to experience.

But then I took a deep breath and realized that saying no would be like committing career suicide. Being asked to head up the promotions team for a band like Westside when they were as hot as they were and only getting hotter was the most sincere form of flattery that I could have asked for when I was only three years out of college. It was huge.

Until then, I’d exclusively worked on Sydney’s team. And although she was a ridiculously successful pop star in her own right, I’d been with her from the beginning, first as an intern for two summers, then as a member of her promotions team, and most recently as the head of promotions. I knew Syd’s format and fans like the back of my hand. I was comfortable with her and her team, and since loyalty was something she valued most, she didn’t like to change the people she worked with unless she had to. The job was easy, and it was comfortable.

But I also loved a challenge. Working for Westside would be different in so many ways, and ultimately it would be a testament to how good I really was at my job. It was going to stretch me in ways I hadn’t yet experienced, and under any other circumstances, saying yes would have been a no-brainer. But adding Van into the mix brought the whole concept to a completely different level, and I felt the confidence I’d mastered over the years start to falter.

That was when Katherine had called me into her office and told me why she wanted me on the Westside team. She didn’t do things like that very often, and I knew she also didn’t assign just anyone to their team.

Westside was her baby. She’d signed on to represent them at the beginning, back when they were a budding boy band hoping to make it, and she was incredibly invested in their success. In fact, they were the only client she served directly.

As I’d sat in her office, nervously chewing my bottom lip, she listed all the reasons she thought I would be perfect for the team, and I felt the word ‘yes’ on the tip of my tongue. The only thing that prevented me from blurting it out was knowing that working for Westside meant seeing Van, and seeing Van meant admitting that he’d hurt me. It also meant admitting that I still wasn’t over what happened between us. I was over him. There was no doubt in my mind that I’d gotten over him long ago, but I wasn’t sure I could ever forgive him for what he did.

Aside from the fact that I just plain didn’t want to see him and be reminded of what it felt like to have my heart ripped out of my chest and stomped on, I was concerned that I wouldn’t be able to separate what he did and represent him the way I knew I should. And that wasn’t fair. Of course I’d never tell Katherine that.

As far as she knew, my history with Van was gone and forgotten, so far in the past that it was insignificant. I’d never tell her that seeing his face on the cover of a magazine still made my blood boil or that I didn’t like to watch award shows because I didn’t want to have to see him perform. That was all way too personal, and Katherine didn’t do personal. She was calm, collected, and professional at all times, and I wished I could have been just like her. With any other client, I would have been, but with Van there would always be this lingering hatred over what he’d done.

I knew that if I hadn’t been able to get past it in two years, I likely wasn’t going to be able to ever get over it at all, and that was something I was just going to have to accept. I wanted the job more than anything, but I had to be okay with the fact that it was going to be awkward and uncomfortable. I was going to see Van daily, I’d have to talk to him, and I’d have to be nice to him. I was going to have to figure out how to swallow my pride, because the job was too big for me to screw up because I was feeling bad about myself.

With all that in mind, I asked Katherine for a few days to think about my decision. During that time, I pretty much thought about it non-stop. I talked to Laurie, Sydney’s publicist, who was also my current boss. We’d worked together for long enough that she knew my history with Van. She knew that this was a bigger deal than just accepting a position, but in the same breath, she told me to take the job. She said Westside needed someone like me. They needed someone with passion and drive and organization, but above all else, they needed someone who would work relentlessly for them. That was why she’d recommended me to Katherine.

It was hard to say no after hearing that.

When I talked to Syd about it, she flat out told me to take the job. She let me know that in no uncertain terms could I let a guy like Van control any part of my life. I was good at what I did, and I deserved this opportunity. Then she told me, with her prize-winning grin, that if I were to take the job, I was only on loan to Westside. She expected me to be with her the following summer when she was back on tour to promote her new album that was due out in November, right around the time the Westside tour would be wrapping up.

I let her know there was no question that I’d be back with her as soon as she needed me. In fact, Katherine had told me that the Westside job was temporary, that they needed the extra help during the tour, and after that I’d be free to go back to working for Sydney. That was one of the reasons I was leaning toward saying yes. A commitment of seven months felt a lot better than one with an unknown end date.

So after three days of non-stop deliberating, I came to a few conclusions. One, I had always considered myself a consummate professional. Two, my career was always important to me, so the last thing I wanted to do was stall it in any way. Three, I’d be insane to turn down an offer like that. And four, Syd was right. Van Salvatore didn’t get to own any part of my life. He’d already hurt me. He didn’t get anything else.

So I took the job and signed a contract that said I would be committed to Westside for the duration of their tour. My hand was shaking the whole time as I tried to block out the fact that in a short period of time, I was going to be face-to-face with Van for the first time in two years. I figured that would be scariest part. The first time would be the worst, and then it would get easier – or at least I hoped it would.

I told myself I wouldn’t let him get to me. At the end of the day, he was just another member of the band that I was going to work for. I couldn’t give him any more consideration than that, because if I did, I would give him power. I wasn’t going to do that. Van Salvatore was just a boy. He was a boy I dated and a boy I probably loved, but that was all in the past. In the present, he didn’t matter. The job was what mattered. My career was what mattered. The tour mattered. Everything else was just details.

That was the pep talk I gave myself before I took a deep breath and swiped my keycard to enter the fifth floor. It was the floor where we brought our most exclusive clients, so I wasn’t unaccustomed to meetings in the lavish conference room with sweeping views of downtown L.A. and the surrounding areas. I’d been there countless times for meetings with Sydney, but that small fact didn’t calm my nerves at all. I knew today was different. It was bigger and more intense, and I was so nervous that I thought vomiting might be a very real possibility if I didn’t keep my emotions in check.

It would be better if I didn’t have to speak, but I wasn’t going to get that lucky. Since I’d taken the job a month earlier, I’d worked round the clock to fix the mess that Jeremy, the previous head of promotions, had left. And when I say mess, I mean a huge, sloppy, stinking mess. Looking at what he’d left behind for the first time, I hadn’t been surprised that he’d gotten fired. Even though he’d had months to get everything in order for the tour, all he had to show for his work was a subpar promotions plan that would have failed spectacularly if it was put into action, because almost all the details were missing.

Fortunately for me, I’d always been good at details. I was meticulous and diligent, and I didn’t let things slip through the cracks. That was why Katherine had hired me. It was also what got me through the mental mindfuck I’d been experiencing every time I saw Van’s name on a piece of paper. I could do the job. I was good at what I did, and Westside, needed me.

So my social life had gone away, sleep had followed it, and I’d put everything I had into my work. I’d spent countless hours with the four other people who were a part of the PR team that would travel with Westside during the tour. When it was all said and done, we’d put together a killer plan that would give the band the exposure they wanted and align with the two product launches they had planned for the summer – a Westside fragrance, and an interactive Westside singing game, similar to Rock Band.

It was more work than I’d ever done in such a short amount of time, but in the end, I was proud of what we’d accomplished. Better than that, I’d impressed Brent, the publicist who traveled with Westside and who would, for all intents and purposes, be my boss for the next seven months. When Katherine told me how happy she was with the work my team had done, I considered it a victory.

The last step was to present everything to the band, which I knew was just a formality. Damon, their manager, and every other person who needed to weigh in on the specifics of the promotions strategy, had already done so. The guys could share their thoughts or concerns if they had any, but in my experience, nothing would really change after this meeting. The tour started in a week, so any changes we could make would be minimal.

But I still had to be present and on my game. Katherine was leading the charge, and Brent was going through the details of the product launches, but I was presenting the logistical aspects of what we wanted to accomplish and how, from a promotional standpoint. I was going to be front and center, and Van’s eyes would be on me.

With my hand on the conference room door, I told myself I was okay with that. I was a professional, dammit.

Chapter Two

Van

I was mid-bite into the donut I’d snagged from the platter in the middle of the table when she walked in and time seemed to stand still. It had been almost two years since I’d laid eyes on Elisa Donovan, and suddenly she was there, all blond and tan and sexy as hell, and I almost swallowed my tongue.

Are you going to eat that or just hold onto it? my bandmate Cam asked me, leaning into my personal space.

I pulled the donut away from my mouth and set it on the plate in front of me. I suddenly wasn’t so hungry. I swallowed hard as I watched Elisa take the seat next to Katherine, wondering what the hell she was doing there.

Is that Elisa? Phillip, one of my other bandmates, and my best friend, asked from my other side, lowering his voice so only I could hear him.

I nodded slowly. Yeah. It is, I said, my voice sounding hoarse and disconnected, like someone else was saying the words.

"That’s awkward. What’s she doing here?" Phillip asked.

I shook my head as I watched Elisa laughing and talking with our publicist, Brent. She still hadn’t made eye contact with me. I knew that because I hadn’t taken my eyes off her since she’d walked in.

No clue, I told Phillip.

I knew Elisa worked for Katherine’s agency. When I’d met her she’d been doing PR for Sydney Chase, and we were represented by the same agency, but I assumed Elisa worked solely for Sydney. Because of that she was pretty much the last person I’d expected to see today.

Okay, everyone, our manager Damon said loudly, silencing the conversations that were taking place around the table. I think we’re ready to get started. Katherine, I’ll defer to you and your team.

Thank you, Damon, Katherine said, opening the iPad in front of her. I’ll start with the promotional events we’ve layered throughout the tour, and then I’ll let Brent tell you about the merchandising partnerships and sponsorships we’ve lined up throughout the summer, including the fragrance and video game launches. Finally, I’ll let Elisa Donovan, the newest member of the Westside team, who I think most of you already know, wrap us up with how this will all be orchestrated while you boys are on the road.

I swallowed hard, not sure what to say. Elisa was working for us? Was she seriously on our PR team now? What the hell was going on?

Thankfully I didn’t need to say anything, which was fine by me, since I wasn’t sure anything I said in that moment would sound witty or even coherent. Katherine had started speaking, but I was barely listening as my mind drifted back to the last time I’d seen Elisa. It had been a few years, but I remembered everything so clearly. She’d been in tears and was pissed at me, and she’d told me to go fuck myself.

I guess finding out that the guy you were dating, who’d also asked you to be exclusive and date only him, had gotten drunk and accidentally hooked up with a stripper and let someone videotape it, doesn’t usually go over very well. The worst part was that I couldn’t even defend my actions. I’d done exactly what she’d said, she’d seen the video, and the only excuse I had was that I was an idiot.

She told me I didn’t deserve her, and she was right. Because of that, I knew trying to fight for her wasn’t going to work. I’d let her go. I’d stood there silently as she walked out of my life. She was just a girl after all – or at least that’s what I told myself. Then I went out with Phillip, got drunk and decided I could hook up with whoever I wanted, internally declaring my freewill as I tried to forget the one girl I’d ever had real feelings for.

I didn’t know it at the time, though. I had no idea what kind of a hold Elisa Donovan had over me and how much I refused to feel the day I’d let her go, because the idea of getting upset over a girl seemed insane. I wasn’t that guy. So I hadn’t let myself feel anything, and when asked about it, I never told anyone that Elisa had been more to me than a girl I’d hooked up with from time to time – just one of the many. Because that’s what I’d wholeheartedly believed.

Until five minutes ago.

It was like as soon I saw her again, immense clarity took over, and everything I’d forgotten about being with her came back to me in a rush. As she listened to Katherine speak, I fixed my gaze on her long blond hair that disappeared down her back, mesmerized by the locks that I so distinctly remembered splayed over my bare chest as we’d laid in bed whenever we’d been able to steal time together in between two crazy schedules that were so rarely in sync. But when they were, when we’d been together, it had been so good.

Why hadn’t I remembered that?

Her smile, her laugh, the way her blue eyes would light up when she saw me after a stretch of time when we’d been apart – those were the things that made me happy back then. Those were the things I’d buried deep because I hadn’t wanted to be reminded of them. I’d pretended it was everything with the band and my fame and my ridiculous bank account that afforded me anything I wanted that had made me happy, but in reality it wasn’t any of that. It was Elisa.

When we’d met, Westside was just starting to gain notoriety, and at times it was completely overwhelming to me, a low-key guy from Nevada who wasn’t used to the spotlight and didn’t necessarily understand or enjoy it. Elisa knew that, and she kept me grounded when my world had started to spin. She kept me sane and level, talked me through the times when I felt like I was going to slip off a cliff, and let me know that it would get easier in time and I would one day love the life I’d been thrown into. She’d been right. She’d been so right.

I knew in that moment that regardless of my success and fame, of all the love and adoration I got from our fans, and all the little things I’d come to love about what I got to do each day, in the two years since Elisa and I had ended, I hadn’t felt happiness like I had when I was with her. I’d bypassed the feelings so quickly, channeling them to other parts of my life, knowing that it couldn’t have been a girl bringing me that kind of contentment. But it had been. It was all her.

That revelation felt like a smack in the face. I’d been an idiot to let her go – a goddamn idiot. I should have begged her to forgive me, I should have justified that we weren’t technically exclusive when I’d ‘cheated’ because she’d been afraid to give me a chance – probably with good reason, but still. I should have promised her that I’d never look at another woman again, that I’d be faithful no matter what. I should have promised her the world just to keep her in my life, but I was dumb and immature back then. I hadn’t realized that a girl – that she – was the best part of my life.

Before her I’d never seriously dated. I’d hooked up – a lot – and I’d had girlfriends, but I’d never been in love or even wanted to be. I had my friends, I had snowboarding, and I had Westside. I saw no need for a significant other when I was twenty-one years old. I figured I’d meet someone when I was older and ready to settle down.

And I was still in that mindset, but at the same time, I’d dated enough in the past two years to know that girls like Elisa didn’t come around every day. In fact, I’d never met anyone who even came close to being as amazing as her, which was probably why I’d never gotten serious with anyone else. No one was her, which I knew was partially why I’d asked her to be my girlfriend two years earlier. I thought she was incredible, and I genuinely loved being around her.

But I was also afraid of losing her, which was most likely why I’d blurted out the question with such reckless abandon. That had been my fatal mistake.

As soon as the words were out of my mouth – Be my girlfriend? – I’d wanted to take them back. I knew I’d only said them because I felt her slipping away. I’d taken a drastic step, one I probably wasn’t ready to take, and when she hesitated, I panicked. I knew in that moment that I really was going to lose her. That fear later led to copious amounts of drinking and the stripper and the end of Elisa and me.

But seeing her again and being reminded of just how much I’d lost the day she walked out of my life, I couldn’t help but remember so many of the good things. I wanted her to look at me, to meet my gaze. I wanted to see her smile, to know that she remembered too. We’d had a really good thing back then, and I wasn’t sure either of us had even known it at the time.

I couldn’t stop staring at her, and I was starting to get pissed that she refused to look at me. But at least it gave me the opportunity to study her. She looked different. Maybe it was because she was two years older, but maybe it was something else. She almost had a steeliness to her gaze as she watched Katherine speak, a determination in the way she held her shoulders back, her jaw tight, her lips pressed together. She looked harder. Even her long hair was stick straight and pulled back into a low ponytail, giving her a tough appearance that I knew was meant to be professional, but to me it was so insanely sexy.

She’d never straightened her hair when we’d been dating. Back then she’d let it fall over her shoulders in soft waves that I’d loved to run my fingers through. She’d always had a softness about her, an innocence and a naiveté that I’d secretly loved. She was trusting and kind, sweet and genuine, so different from the girls I’d met in L.A., but at the same time, she was savvy and knew her way around.

She’d grown up in L.A., and her father had been a fairly prominent rock musician while she was growing up, so she’d been around the music industry since she was a kid. It was almost like she knew it from the inside out so well that she could see past all the bullshit. I appreciated how grounded that made her. I needed that when I’d been thrown into the insanity that was my life when I first joined Westside.

Elisa had been the one person I knew I could go to when shit got too crazy. She understood what I was dealing with, she understood me, and she just made everything a little easier to stomach. Of course I eventually adapted to the insanity. It became my new normal. That was when I let my fame and celebrity go to my head. That was when I’d fucked up. That was when I’d lost her.

At the time, I told myself that breaking up with her was for the best, and I made myself forget how much I liked her. But the truth was that I loved being around her, getting lost in her when we had those rare moments together, and I always looked forward to seeing her. It was apparent to me now that what I’d felt for her once upon a time hadn’t gone away in the two years since I’d last seen her. I might have felt like I was over her, but seeing her again brought everything back to the surface, and I wasn’t exactly sure what to do with that information.

For two years I’d screwed around with too many girls to count, and I now knew that it had been in an effort to put Elisa out of my mind. I thought it had worked, but now, seeing her sitting across from me, I knew it had been a wasted effort.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t completely wasted. It wasn’t like I’d struggled through sleeping with models and actresses, but to learn that I hadn’t purged Elisa from my system like I thought I had was like getting a bucket of ice water tossed over my head – shocking and painful.

When she started talking, sharing the plans for how our promotional campaign would be interwoven with the tour, she finally made eye contact with me. But it was just for a moment. Her eyes skimmed over me as she talked, as if I were a stranger, as if we hadn’t shared too many intimate moments to count, and as if she hadn’t felt anything for me.

Her indifference felt like a punch to the gut, but instead of asking her what her deal was, I had to sit there and pretend like I was listening. In reality I wasn’t paying attention to a word she was saying. My gaze was fixed firmly on where she was looking, craving those moments when her crystal blue eyes met mine and feeling deflated when I saw nothing in them.

What was she thinking? Why wouldn’t she look at me? Was it because she was still mad at me? Did she hate me? And if she didn’t, what exactly did I want from her?

I’d woken up that morning in the bed of the girl I’d been seeing pretty regularly since I’d been back in Los Angeles. Her name was Blair, and she was an actress. We’d been set up for a red carpet event, but we’d ended up kind of hitting it off. Her career was just getting started, but she’d lived in L.A. her whole life and had dabbled in modeling before getting the lead role in a movie that had been nominated for an Oscar for Best Picture. She was smart and quick-witted and tough. She wasn’t a stranger to the cutthroat nature of the business, and because of that I’d sort of taken to her. We’d been seeing each other for a month.

So was I just going to toss her aside because my sort of ex-girlfriend had popped back up, and I thought I might still have feelings for her? Or was I just confusing the strange emotions coursing through me as something more, when in reality I was feeling sentimental because of the way Elisa and I had left things?

That might have been it. I wasn’t an asshole by nature, but I’d been one to her. Just that idea alone had eaten away at me for far too long after we’d ended things. Maybe my brain was confusing what was most likely a chance to apologize and admit that I really had deserved the ‘fuck-off’ she’d thrown at me, because I really had been a selfish dick. Maybe that was it.

What do you think, Van? I suddenly heard, and my gaze shifted to Katherine involuntarily.

Huh? I said, sounding every bit the laid back snowboarder that I’d been labeled as early on in Westside.

We all had our own personas that the fans had given us, and sometimes they felt like they were as much of a part of us as our real personalities, even if they weren’t exactly spot-on. Phillip was the preppy bad boy, which was only half true these days. Cam was funny and charming because of his good nature and goofy smile, which was pretty accurate until you realized there were so many more layers to him. Dillon was known as being sexy and flirty, which was funny because he’d had a girlfriend longer than any of us, and I was known as a snowboarding junkie, which was completely true. The laid back part wasn’t always true, though, since I was far from being a slacker.

But the fans only saw what I let them see, and I’d played into the label they’d given me from the beginning. I’d always been quiet and reserved growing up, so the last thing I wanted to do was draw attention to myself. No one needed to know that I’d gotten a near perfect score on my SATs, that I’d gotten a full academic scholarship to Berkley, and that I liked to read the classics. It wasn’t important to who I was in their eyes. It didn’t matter when it came to the job I did.

Which, ironically, was a job I never imagined myself doing. I knew my bandmates had all had dreams of being on-stage their whole lives, and when asked in interviews, I always lied and said I’d had the same dream as a kid. That couldn’t have been farther from the truth. I’d only auditioned for Westside because my cousin Max hadn’t wanted to go alone. So I’d gone with him, and while he got cut after two rounds, I kept getting pushed through until finally I was offered a spot in what we were told was a new boy band.

I almost turned it down. Max was pissed at me, and the last thing I wanted to do was ruin our relationship by taking his dream out from under him. But when I told him that, it only made him angrier. He said I’d be crazy to throw away that kind of opportunity. So I’d casually reminded him of the education waiting for me at Berkley, to which he’d laughed and shook his head.

Then he’d asked me if I’d be okay with being ordinary for the rest of my life. I’d looked at him in confusion for several seconds until he explained that anyone could go to college. Anyone could get a degree and go to work, slogging away as they made their way up the corporate ladder, but I was being offered an opportunity that millions of people would kill for.

I tried to rationalize that what I’d been chosen for wasn’t full-proof. Just because I’d been selected didn’t mean I’d make it big or have success. The band, which didn’t even have a name at that point, could easily fail after a year. Max had just smiled and said, So what.

I remember looking dumbfounded at him, like he was slow. How could he say that so flippantly? Then he went on to explain that even if the band failed, it would be the experience of a lifetime, and any sane person would do it. College could wait. It would be there in a year. I could defer my acceptance, but something like what I was being offered couldn’t be deferred.

So I’d done it. I’d blindly joined a boy band, not knowing what the hell I was getting into and hoping I wasn’t going to live to regret my decision. And I hadn’t. There wasn’t one day that I looked back and wished I’d chosen a different path. I was meant to do this, even if it wasn’t something I’d ever realized.

But I’d never gotten wholly comfortable with every piece of me being known to the world. I liked keeping parts of myself hidden, which is why I never corrected anyone when they assumed things about me. I’d rather them assume than know the real me. If they didn’t know me, they couldn’t take me down, and in an industry as cutthroat as ours, that threat was always there. It was better to stay as anonymous as possible and keep your guard up at all times. That was the motto I’d always lived by, and it had worked for four years. I wasn’t about to abandon it now.

I was just glad my sex tape situation hadn’t gone public. That was just about as personal as it could get, and I would have hated something like that being seen by millions of people. If nothing else, I regretted not being more careful that night. I’d vowed never to let something like that happen again. I’d been lucky that the stripper and her friend had been more than accepting of the pay-off my lawyer had offered them, and they’d erased the recording, knowing they’d never be able to pay the penalty they’d have to pay if the video went public.

What was the question, Katherine? I asked her, dragging my attention back to the meeting.

She looked mildly amused as she said, We were just looking for your opinion on what we just presented.

Me? Why not one of these guys? I asked, gesturing to my bandmates.

"Because Epic Snowboards asked you to be their spokesperson," Brent chimed in, with just a touch of sarcasm in his tone.

I narrowed my eyes at him. He wasn’t one of my favorite people, but he was good at what he did, and he’d been on our team from the start. He just had an arrogant, douchebag vibe about him that rubbed me the wrong way.

Oh.

Dammit. Why couldn’t I string