recollect what she was doing and turned to glare
triumphantly at Ember. She looked so childish that Ember half expected her to
stick out her tongue.
“Wow,”
King said. “Fawn didn’t like a performance. Now we’ve seen everything.”
Week Six
“Good
morning, George,” Ember said as the uniformed man opened the front doors to the
Atwood Building
and greeted her. “You look especially chipper today.”
George
smiled that look that mature fans often got when they caught sight of her—as if
they were not only seeing Ember as she was now but were also remembering
excellent moments in the past that they associated with her music. “I’m sure
it’s just the pleasure of seeing you, Ms. Blaze,” George told her.
Ember
stopped to give George more of her attention, fully aware that the paparazzi
were continuing to snap pictures as the door swung closed. “That was a really
sweet thing to say. Does Fox pay you extra to put the judges in a good mood
before the photo shoot?”
George’s
smile broke into a full-fledged laugh. “No, Ma’am! You inspire the complements naturally. You
just have a way of brightening up a day.”
Sometimes
life is just good. Ember had felt a little bit apprehensive about coming today
after that nonsense with Fawn last week, but George had just put her completely
at ease again. She leaned forward and gave him a little half hug. “Well, thank
you! You brighten up the day too.”
The
surprise on George’s face was a delight to see. “Thank you, Ms. Blaze!”
“Hey,
Ember, how do you know George?” one of the paparazzi called out.
The
questions some people would ask always surprised Ember. “Everybody knows,
George. He’s been the doorman here for all three seasons of Rock Idol .”
The
paparazzi surged closer but Ember didn’t have time to hold a lengthy
conversation. “I’d better get up to my dressing room and let Hans work his
magic. I’d hate to hold up the shoot,” she told them. Holding up the shoot was
something a diva would do, and in rebuilding her reputation, Ember had always
been careful to avoid the negative aspects of being termed a diva.
“You don’t have to hurry too much. Mr. Daniels
isn’t here yet,” George informed her.
Ember
flashed him another smile as she walked into the building. “Men never seem to
need as much time in makeup as women do. Is Fawn here?”
George’s
face lost some of its good spirits. “I did see Ms. Fields arrive about twenty
minutes ago.”
Ember
wanted to ask him why he suddenly looked less happy, but there was no way to do
that in front of the paparazzi. Still, she wondered what was up. Was the sweet
judge being nasty to the hired help?
“Gina!
Where the hell is Fawn?” Fox snapped.
Gina
Hartley’s head whipped around, anger and confusion warring for control of her
face. “She should be here already, Mr. Atwood. Her makeup was done and she said
she’d be right behind me when I checked on her fifteen minutes ago.”
Gina’s
explanation only seemed to add to Fox’s irritation. “Well, go find her again
and this time, hold her hand so she doesn’t get lost on the way here!”
Ember
stopped herself from shaking her head as she wondered if Fawn had been delayed
by the need for one more quick snort of cocaine. She didn’t want to get
involved in that. Fawn was Fox’s problem, and even though she was sure Fawn
needed help, Ember wasn’t going to be the one to rat her out and get her fired.
She
noticed little Kim Ryan approaching her from across the room, sporting her new
outfit. Six weeks into the season, the show traditionally worked to jazz up the
contestants’ appearance to make them look more professional. It was a big media
event and the show would push hard with interviews and advertising campaigns to
highlight the changes. To Ember’s eye, it had been pretty successful.
Kim
was the fifteen-year-old contestant, a little waif of a girl who
triumphantly at Ember. She looked so childish that Ember half expected her to
stick out her tongue.
“Wow,”
King said. “Fawn didn’t like a performance. Now we’ve seen everything.”
Week Six
“Good
morning, George,” Ember said as the uniformed man opened the front doors to the
Atwood Building
and greeted her. “You look especially chipper today.”
George
smiled that look that mature fans often got when they caught sight of her—as if
they were not only seeing Ember as she was now but were also remembering
excellent moments in the past that they associated with her music. “I’m sure
it’s just the pleasure of seeing you, Ms. Blaze,” George told her.
Ember
stopped to give George more of her attention, fully aware that the paparazzi
were continuing to snap pictures as the door swung closed. “That was a really
sweet thing to say. Does Fox pay you extra to put the judges in a good mood
before the photo shoot?”
George’s
smile broke into a full-fledged laugh. “No, Ma’am! You inspire the complements naturally. You
just have a way of brightening up a day.”
Sometimes
life is just good. Ember had felt a little bit apprehensive about coming today
after that nonsense with Fawn last week, but George had just put her completely
at ease again. She leaned forward and gave him a little half hug. “Well, thank
you! You brighten up the day too.”
The
surprise on George’s face was a delight to see. “Thank you, Ms. Blaze!”
“Hey,
Ember, how do you know George?” one of the paparazzi called out.
The
questions some people would ask always surprised Ember. “Everybody knows,
George. He’s been the doorman here for all three seasons of Rock Idol .”
The
paparazzi surged closer but Ember didn’t have time to hold a lengthy
conversation. “I’d better get up to my dressing room and let Hans work his
magic. I’d hate to hold up the shoot,” she told them. Holding up the shoot was
something a diva would do, and in rebuilding her reputation, Ember had always
been careful to avoid the negative aspects of being termed a diva.
“You don’t have to hurry too much. Mr. Daniels
isn’t here yet,” George informed her.
Ember
flashed him another smile as she walked into the building. “Men never seem to
need as much time in makeup as women do. Is Fawn here?”
George’s
face lost some of its good spirits. “I did see Ms. Fields arrive about twenty
minutes ago.”
Ember
wanted to ask him why he suddenly looked less happy, but there was no way to do
that in front of the paparazzi. Still, she wondered what was up. Was the sweet
judge being nasty to the hired help?
“Gina!
Where the hell is Fawn?” Fox snapped.
Gina
Hartley’s head whipped around, anger and confusion warring for control of her
face. “She should be here already, Mr. Atwood. Her makeup was done and she said
she’d be right behind me when I checked on her fifteen minutes ago.”
Gina’s
explanation only seemed to add to Fox’s irritation. “Well, go find her again
and this time, hold her hand so she doesn’t get lost on the way here!”
Ember
stopped herself from shaking her head as she wondered if Fawn had been delayed
by the need for one more quick snort of cocaine. She didn’t want to get
involved in that. Fawn was Fox’s problem, and even though she was sure Fawn
needed help, Ember wasn’t going to be the one to rat her out and get her fired.
She
noticed little Kim Ryan approaching her from across the room, sporting her new
outfit. Six weeks into the season, the show traditionally worked to jazz up the
contestants’ appearance to make them look more professional. It was a big media
event and the show would push hard with interviews and advertising campaigns to
highlight the changes. To Ember’s eye, it had been pretty successful.
Kim
was the fifteen-year-old contestant, a little waif of a girl who
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