She’s said nothing about who I am or the band.
Does she know?
“What do you want to know?” I ask.
She smiles, and it’s genuine. “You’re an entrepreneur. So what does that mean, exactly? Like, what do you dabble in?”
Raising my brow, I look at her. I mean, really, look. Trying to gauge whether she’s playing me, trying to egg me on as if she knows who I am but wants me to confirm it, or if she honestly has no idea.
I’m not sure how to play this.
“So, I, ah… dabble in music mainly. A little bit of philanthropy, but mostly music.”
Her eyes light up. “Oh, that’s so cool. You said you play bass guitar, right?”
I nod, and she smiles. “That’s great. I always wanted to learn an instrument, but honestly, I’m musically challenged. I can dance, though. I’m pretty good at moving my body,” she says, and I raise my brow at her.
“So, you’re a hostess, right?” I ask, and she sort of smiles, but it’s more like a grimace. “I am. I’m looking at changing careers, though. I really want to get into dance. That’s why I’m in LA, to try to make it as a backup dancer, but it’s a hard business to get into. Everyone wants someone who’s willing to strip and show all their flesh, and I’m not sure I’m completely comfortable with that.”
I mentally note that she’s a little prudish. That goes in the tick column for the good-girl vibe I want in my woman. She may look like a sexy siren, but inside, it seems she’s a good girl. It’s the same vibe I was getting from her online as well. Madeline believes in core values, and I like that about her.
“It’s good that you know what you want. I might be able to help you get into some video clips with clothing on. I’ll see what I can do,” I say, and she furrows her brows.
“You can do that?” she asks.
“I have a few contacts in the biz, being in the music industry.”
She tilts her head and purses her lips. “Are you in a band?”
I tense up slightly, simply nodding.
Her eyes light up, and she grins. “What’s your band called?”
Here we go…
“Recoil,” I reply in a somber tone.
She squints like she’s trying to think hard. It shocks me slightly, and I let out a small, stifled laugh as she shakes her head.
“So, it sounds familiar, but I honestly can’t say I know any of your songs. Are you very popular?” she asks, and I swallow hard,wondering again if she’s having a laugh or being serious, but the blank look on her face tells me all I need to know.
“Uhh… do you like rock music?” I ask, and she screws her face up.
“Oh, no, not really. I’m more of an R&B, sometimes pop girl. It’s easier to dance to. Rock is more just head-banging. Can’t really dance to that.”
I let out a bemused laugh and sit back in my seat, feeling more and more relaxed. “So if I were to say that I’m a little bit famous, would that scare you?”
She shrugs. “You’re not famous to me. You’re just Matt, my match Matt. I don’t see you as any different. If you’re famous, that’s good for you, but it doesn’t affect who you are or how I see you, Matt. Sure, it might affect our relationship and how we have to interact in public, but that’s a hurdle we can work with if it gets that far… right?” she asks.
My nerves settle even more.
She’s saying everything right.
I don’t know why I was so worried.
One bad experience like Jaci's doesn’t mean every experience will be terrible. Madeline is now proof of that.
Suddenly, I remember that when I accidentally messaged Madeline about meeting up, my phone beeped with a message, and I haven’t had a chance to check it. I subtly slide my cell out to see that the message is from Alex. I sigh and put my cell away, deciding to read it later. She can wait until I’m done with Madeline.
