“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “His movie premiere was last night.”
“Well, well, look at you keeping tabs on him.”
“I’m not keeping tabs on him. Ruth told me, for your information.”
ARise & Shine Americaproducer met them at the entrance and showed them to their dressing rooms. God, Clayton was so infuriating.Pfft.Keeping tabs on him. Just one more press appearance and she could return to Nashville. Her album was at a standstill because of this stupidrecord. But country music had taught her one thing—if she ever wanted to win that Grammy, she’d have to write the songs herself.
After performing their single Jamie and Clayton sat down for an interview. To her horror the live studio audience mainly consisted of Clayton Langley fans: middle-aged women and young girls wearing fuzzy pink cowboy hats, likely from the suburbs.
“Congratulations!” Kelly said, her blue eyes bright with excitement. She’d always been warm and welcoming, a true fan of Jamie’s music. Her co-host, Roger, was another story entirely.
“On what?” Jamie asked, having no clue what she was referring to.
“On ‘I Did a Good Job of Drinking’ reaching number one on the country charts!”
“Golly!” Clayton tipped his cowboy hat and draped his orangutan arm around Jamie’s shoulder.
She wriggled free from his hold. “Oh, I had no idea.”
“We just heard this morning,” Roger said. “Do you have any comment on Derrick Anderson?”
“No comment,” Clayton said, attempting to be funny.
She smiled politely for the cameras and lied through her teeth, “I’m sure his movie is fabulous!”
“What about his co-star, Matilda Graham?” Roger asked. She found it rude when someone asked about Derrick during an interview. If they wanted him on the program, they should have booked him.
“What about her? Matilda?” Jamie tried not to sound defensive. Derrick had frequently complained about his nineteen-year-old co-star’s lack of professionalism. Matilda was consistently late to the set, didn’t know her lines, and threw fits when the director requested multiple takes. Everyone called her “Donna,” as in prima donna, behind her back, including Derrick.
“They announced their relationship at the premiere last night,” Roger said matter-of-factly.
Clayton rested his hand on Jamie’s knee. Heat prickled up her spine, unwelcome and infuriating, and she swallowed hard instead of punching him in the face.
“What relationship?” Jamie asked, bewildered by the situation.
“Sorry, I assumed you knew,” Kelly said. “Matilda Graham and Derrick Anderson announced they were a couple.”
An invisible arrow struck Jamie’s heart, pinning her to the couch. Derrick hated Matilda—her fake boobs, her streaky spray tan, even the way she clung to him during their scripted kisses. And yet . . . he was with her? It didn’t add up. Unless their so-called “relationship” was nothing more than a calculated publicity stunt. With the media fixated on her and Clayton, Derrick needed a way to steal back the spotlight.
“We’re happy for them,” Clayton said, stepping in. “Aren’t we, Jamie?” He nudged her ribs with his elbow. “There’s nothing like a new romance.”
When she realized she was still on live TV she quickly snapped out of her daze and forced a nod. “I wish them nothing but happiness.” The moment they cut to commercial she leaned close to Clayton, her voice low and sharp. “Get me the hell out of here.”
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She nodded. “I’m sure it’s just a publicity stunt.”
Clayton waved to the producer as an assistant stepped in to unclip their microphones.
“You’re all set,” the guy said. “You can head out whenever.”
Jamie exhaled.Finally.
But as they turned toward the exit her relief evaporated. The number of photographers had multiplied, their cameras flashing like miniature lightning strikes.
“Dang it,” Clayton muttered under his breath. Without hesitation he draped a protective arm around her shoulder, pulling her close against his frame. He was a wall between her and the chaos, a shield from the invasive lights.
“Keep your head down,” he murmured near her ear, steady but firm.
