Page 7 of Everything In Between

FIVE

jersey

“I hope you’re proud of yourself. You look like you don’t know what you’re doing up there.” Callum clicks the remote, turning off the video of me dancing up on stage to ad-libbed choreography from my most recent show.

“What do you mean? The fans have been loving the switch. I’ve even seen videos of the dance online.

” My fingers twist together in my lap. Many of my songs have built-in dance breaks, which have become a fan-favorite tradition of my tours.

I should’ve known going off script with the choreography would’ve landed me a scolding from the higher-ups, but I couldn’t help myself. It felt right in that moment.

“It’s not what you rehearsed, and it’s definitely not what we agreed on.” His tone is flat as he levels me with a steady stare, taunting me to disagree. Which I do, of course.

“I don’t understand what the big deal is. It’s only choreography.”

“The big deal, Jersey, is that you explicitly went against what we asked of you. Again. The big deal is that we are your label.” I sink further into my chair with the passive aggressive animosity, like a child being scolded.

“What we’ve put into this show has cost us a lot of money.

What do you think your choreographer would think of you changing up her meticulously thought-out routine? ”

“Honestly? I don’t think she’d mind,” I say, and that’s true.

I can recall many times, off the top of my head, where she’d ask me if I had any other ideas as we were going through the routine.

“She was always supportive of my suggestions during rehearsals. And you know, as well as I do, that we had a lot of rehearsals.”

“You’re missing the point,” Cal grumbles again.

“No, I don’t think I am.”

“Listen, I don’t want to get into this with you today,” he says, waving me off. “We have a lot of things we need to discuss, starting with the schedule for your next album.”

“I’m all ears.” Anything to stop the scolding.

Cal switches into business mode, sitting down behind his desk—because of course—flipping his planner open, then steepling his fingers, and giving me a hard glare.

I clench my jaw at the way he’s glaring down his nose at me.

If I could melt into this chair and disappear, I think I would, but I doubt Cal would permit that.

“We have you slotted for the next few months to go in and start recording. It will probably feel like a lot, but it’s important that we ride the coattails of this tour’s success and get your next album out while you’re still on everyone’s mind.

The last thing we need is for this energy to fizzle out without milking it as much as possible. ”

“At least you’re admitting it,” I say under my breath, not loving the idea of having the need for my career to be milked to within an inch of its life.

Callum’s attention snaps back to me and he glowers. “What was that?”

“Nothing. Go on.”

He blinks at me a few times, suspiciously studying me to figure out if I’m up to no good. Finally, he continues. “I’ll have my assistant send Bethany an outline of the recording schedule so you can have it. I don’t expect you’ll have any issues keeping to the assigned slots.”

“I’ll do my best. I have nothing coming up that I’m aware of.”

“Good. It’s an aggressive schedule, Jersey, so you’ll have to be diligent.

We have no time for distractions or detours.

Do you understand? This next album is going to be bigger and better than anything you’ve done before.

If we can pull this off, you may be able to claim Song of the Year next year. ”

“When have I ever been distracted?” I ask him. Of course, I knew he’d already be planning on how to win the coveted Song of the Year again. Bigger, better, stronger.

“Well, the VMAs, for one,” he says, snidely.

“What are you talking about?” I ask him, already feeling the exhaustion seep into me from this conversation. Surreptitiously, I glance down at the watch on my wrist to determine whether I’ve been here long enough to consider it a successful meeting.

“Your security agent told me you purposefully ignored Kelsey’s request to leave so you could go meet up with one of J-Money’s extras.” Callum says this as if he’s accusing me of a crime.

“He’s not an extra. He’s a football player in the NFL.

” I inadvertently defend Hayes Vogt. I blink a few times, surprised at myself.

Why am I defending him when I barely know him in the first place?

Cal arches a suspicious eyebrow, likely wondering the same thing.

I quickly spin the topic around on him. “And why is my security guard tattling on me?”

“He works for us. Just like you do. And ohh, an NFL player. Is that supposed to make this better?” Callum asks. “Either way, you didn’t do what was required of you. To the extreme shock of no one.”

I let his sarcasm roll off me, doing my best to not let it affect me and give him an innocent shrug. “I don’t know. Again, I don’t see why this is a big deal. I didn’t have anywhere else to be after the show, so I don’t see the issue.”

“Kelsey had explicit instructions to keep you on task, moving you through the events of the night. How is she supposed to do her job when you don’t follow her directions?” Cal questions. “After everything I’ve done for you, you’d think you’d trust me by now.”

“Cal, I was there to network and promote. To meet people and maintain relationships. As you’ve mentioned, my schedule is tight.

That usually doesn’t give me a chance to keep those relationships going.

Award shows are perfect for that exact reason.

What if I wanted to do a collaboration with someone in the future?

I’d need to have a good relationship for them to be open to that. ”

He narrows his eyes and leans toward me over his desk. “No. Your label would have to have a good relationship for them to be open to that, and you’d have to have the financial backing to make that worth their while.”

“Not everything is about money, Cal.” My chest feels tight seeing the direction this conversation is going. I should’ve known. Most of my conversations with him end up veering past the point of no return.

His voice turns dangerously low and his eyes narrow. “Sorry to disappoint you, Jersey, but I assure you, it is. Your success is because of me. Don’t forget that I’m the one with the muscle pushing you forward.”

“Are we finished here? I’m supposed to be meeting someone for lunch.” I raise my wrist to read the time. The golden watch glints in the refraction of Cal’s overhead lights as I read the time, hitting my manager in the forehead.

“Fine.” He reclines back in his chair and looks away from me. “Bethany will have the schedule by the end of the day. If you have any pressing issues, please have her call me.”

“You got it, boss.”

Officially done with this conversation, I push out of my chair and reach for my bag. Inside, I grab my phone and then peer at him sideways. Already I can feel the burn behind my eyes, and I’m breathless, like I had the wind got knocked out of me.

Before I have the chance to walk out, Callum feels the need to leave me with one last parting gift.

“Oh, and Jersey? Don’t forget, you are what I’ve made you.

Without me, there would be no Jersey Matthews.

There would be no album, and there would be no tour.

” I look over my shoulder at him, my heart sinking into my stomach.

He gives me a saccharine smile before he dips his chin, officially dismissing me. “Have a nice day.”

I leave Cal’s office without another word, letting the door close roughly behind me, the sting of his brutal words seeing me out. There’s a metallic taste left in my mouth from biting my tongue, the sting reminding me I have almost nothing to show for the small acts of standing up for myself.

Bethany is waiting downstairs in the lobby. Her eyes squint at the screen of her tablet, hardly reacting as I approach her.

“Hey. What have you got there?”

She frowns. “Callum’s assistant just sent over a crazy long email with Cal’s insane schedule attached.”

I pause for a second. “That was fast. I was there a few minutes ago.”

“They must have had it queued up and ready to go.” She shakes her head.

“Must’ve hit send before I even walked out of the door,” I say blandly.

“You are their prized pig.” She gives me a little smile. “They can’t ever seem to let you have any downtime.”

“Cal said it’s because they have to continue to ride the coattails of my tour’s success before people’s interest in me fizzles out.” The sentiment still leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

“We can ask him to change it,” Bethany suggests, but I shake my head.

“You know as well as I do that the only reason he’ll change the schedule is if I’m dying or dead. And even then, I bet he’d expect me to finish recording the lead single.”

Bethany laughs ruefully. “You’re probably right on that one, but you never know.”

I shrug, still feeling a little down. “He’d only remind me that fame is fickle and the only way to combat that is to continue to work. All it would take would be one person to turn on me and everyone else follows like a herd of sheep.”

“I do know. The thousands of fans at every sold-out show and platinum albums tell me that. You have nothing to worry about.” I appreciate Bethany’s confidence. I wish I could have even a little bit of that when it comes to relations and communications with my label.

“Not according to Cal. He has no problem telling me that the only reason I’m successful is because of the label’s backing.”

“You know that’s not true.”

“Sometimes I wonder if he’s right, though.” Before Bethany can do her best to convince me otherwise, I shrug. “You ready to head to my place?”

She gathers up her stuff and pops up from her seat. “Yeah, let’s go.”

On our way out of the lobby, I wave at Louisa, who sits at the main desk on the weekdays. “Bye, Lou!”

With a bright expression, she wiggles her fingers back at me before pushing her glasses up her nose. “Have a good day, Jersey!”

When we walk inside my condo, Roman pops his head up over the back of the couch and gives me a wide, infectious smile before he gets up and walks toward me, arms stretched out wide.

The corners of my lips tip up against my will at the sight of my brother.

He doesn’t usually come over, even though he has his own code and key to get in, so it’s always a nice surprise to see him.

“There’s my favorite little sister. And my favorite sister’s friend!” Roman wraps his arms around me in a big hug.

“Fancy meeting you here,” I tease him, patting his back.

“I definitely had no idea you’d be returning to your home at the end of the day. No idea.” He plays along. As soon as he lets me go from the hug, he gives my friend a little finger wave. “Hey, Beth.”

“Hi there, Roman. You staying out of trouble?” Bethany asks.

“Not at all.” He shoots her a wink and then turns back to me. “What have you two been up to?”

“The usual,” I say, right as Bethany rats me out at the same time. “I was trying to convince Jersey that she’s worth much more than what Callum leads her to believe.” Bethany directs her attention at Roman and tilts her head toward me.

“Oh, we need to convince her of that? I thought she already knew.” Roman nudges me with his shoulder, looking down at me fondly. I appreciate his faith in me, but even my brother isn’t totally privy to my struggles with the label.

“In theory. But it’s hard to believe it when all Cal does is remind me that everything comes back to him and the label. He was particularly adamant that I do not have any distractions,” I explain, heading over to the couch and collapsing into the cushions, dropping my bag on the table next to me.

“Please, when are you ever distracted?” Bethany asks, as though the idea is absurd.

I let out a long sigh and grab a pillow to hold on my lap.

“Apparently at the VMAs, when I ignored Kelsey to ask Hayes for his autograph. Oh, which reminds me. Here you go.” Reaching into my bag, I pull out my wallet and find the Post-it note with Hayes Vogt’s autograph on it.

I’ve been keeping it safe right next to my Post-it with his number on it.

Roman reaches for the sticky note and stares down at it, mouth agape. He falls onto the couch as if he’s in shock. “You actually got it? Sick. I’m gonna have this framed.”

“Not only that, but she got his number, too,” Bethany says, giving me a secret smile. My cheeks heat at her sharing this knowledge with my brother, of all people.

“Traitor,” I mouth.

“You’re kidding, really? Have you texted him yet?” Roman turns his wide brown eyes to me.

My chest feels tight, and I shake my head maybe a little too quickly. “No. And I don’t know if I should. Especially not now.”

Roman arches a brow. “Why not now?”

“Because, I just told you, Cal’s on my case about distractions. I really don’t need to bring a football player—who is probably a player on and off the field—into the mix, you know?”

“Actually, I don’t know if Hayes Vogt is really the dating type,” he says, looking thoughtful.

“I see stuff about other players all the time, but I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen anything about him or the people he’s dating.

From what I’ve heard and seen, he’s a decent guy.

Always giving to charity and really focused on keeping his head in the game.

There’s a reason he’s one of the greatest in the league. ”

I move the pillow on my lap to my chest and hold it tightly, letting it act as my symbolic shield. “You mean he hasn’t been involved in a recent romantic scandal that hit the tabloids and made the entire music industry lose their minds?”

Roman barks a laugh. “No. I guess not.”

“I can’t relate,” I tease and shrug it off while anxiety gnaws at my gut.

“Still a sore spot, huh?” Roman asks me, all hints of jest gone.

Glancing away from him, I say, “It’s whatever. It is what it is. It’s been six months. I’ve moved on.” I can feel Bethany’s eyes on me, but I don’t look over to her to confirm my suspicions. Instead, I pick at a loose thread on the pillow. Then I ask Roman, “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Thought I’d come see what you were up to, but then you weren’t here.” He glances down at his watch. “But I do have to get going. I’ve got a meeting with my agent.”

“Did you hear back about the TV show?”

“Yeah. Unfortunately, they had someone else in mind, so my agent’s searching for other opportunities. We’re meeting to go over some options.”

“Good luck. The right role will come around.”

“It always does,” he says, yanking me into a side hug. When he lets me go, he gives Bethany a high five. “Catch you ladies later.” He salutes us both, leaving us chuckling as he walks out the door.