Page 31 of Getting Real

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He chose his words carefully. “I think you are an incredible singer and a talented performer. You’re electric on stage. I don’t think I have any right to have an opinion on anything else about you.”

She huffed. “But you do.”

He was silent. He stood by his drug-assisted opinion of her as a fake. He was completely confused by her. One moment she was the in-your-face rock diva and the next quiet introspective and shy, like she’d been on both bike rides—a different person altogether.

She said, “Here’s what I think. You’re Mr Nice Guy. You know your job but I don’t see you being tough enough to make the hard decisions, and this business is all about hard decisions. You just don’t have enough Godzilla in you. You look at Rand and you see a nice guy too. But my brother has the heart of a monster, he won’t let anything stop us from getting what we need—he never has. I don’t think that’s something you have in you, Jake, and it’s something we might need.”

She’d spoken softly but her words were hard-edged, needing an unambiguous reply. “You’re wrong, Rielle. But I’m not in the habit of turning myself inside-out to prove what I can do to you or anyone else. What you see is what you get. Take me or leave me. I know who I am and what I can do and I’m comfort

able with that.”

She considered his words. “Fair enough. But you’ve already proven you have a straw heart, Jake. You won’t tell me what you think about me.”

“I’m not sure that makes me weak, Rielle. Just careful.”

Rielle laughed, her voice lifting in the breeze and drifting across the open terrace making other people look their way. What did it matter what Jake Reed thought anyway, so long as he was a competent operator. “Let’s get specific then. What’s your professional opinion of my performance in Adelaide?”

She expected him to blow smoke at her, praise her performance. Do what everyone else other than Rand and Jonas (when he was straight) did—lie.

Jake sat forward in his seat, contemplating his options. He looked like he’d rather be anywhere else but in this conversation. “Here’s what I think. Your performance was a seven out of ten.”

Her mouth dropped open.

“You missed cues a couple of times. Had issues with lyrics. You didn’t have the bungee safety hooked up on the trapeze, which made you vulnerable if anything bad happened. You were late opening the second half. You were nervous and you never settled. None of that much mattered; what did is how unhappy it made you. You were in a funk by the second half and you never recovered.”

“Shit, Jake! Don’t pull any punches!” She hadn’t expected near as frank an assessment. She’d figured he’d extract himself from the conversation, the balcony, the job. “Not even Rand knows about the safety harness. He’d have ripped into me if he did.” Jake had a ‘well you asked for it’ expression on his face. She tucked her chin down. “Thanks. That’s what I needed to hear. Rand was being forgiving and Jonas wasn’t watching.”

“No problem.” Jake let a self-satisfied smile play on his lips. He wasn’t exactly Godzilla, but the guy wasn’t chicken-shit either.

“Maybe we can work together,” she said, cautiously. “Jake, there’s one other thing.” He nodded. He folded his arms as if bracing for bad news. “This thing with heights.”

He grunted, ran his hand through his thick, short dark hair. “What you see is what you get, Rielle.”

She frowned, unsatisfied. Half her show was aerial. He could hardly look at the trapeze without breaking into a sweat. But it wasn’t like there was another option. “I guess I can work with that.”

He gave her a good long dose of steady eye contact. “I guess you’re going to have to.”

14. Heavy

Crunching an apple, Rand watched the crew at the broadcast van unloading camera and sound gear. He’d just toured the stage construction with How and Roley and now they were taking a break before beginning a technical run-through. Behind him the sound of construction echoed along with the occasional blast from the video system.

The whole business with Jonas had been a shock. Yeah, they’d all known he was using, and yeah he’d been off his game, but Rand was angry with himself for not taking it more seriously, not acting more decisively. Now he was on Jonas like a head on a nail. Only Rie had seen it for what it was, but since they’d agreed to the tour she was so ready to expect the worst of everything, he started to discount her impressions. He’d never seen her this uptight, this unstable, and she was trying to hide it from him. He sighed. He’d have to keep a check on her and not get caught doing it.

He watched the TV crew assembling gear and talking with the Ng brothers. He guessed it was just as well Jonas was out of the picture before the documentary makers started shooting. Then he stopped thinking such pragmatic thoughts.

“Red alert—two o’clock,” Roley said. Rand followed Roley’s eyeline.

How looked up from his muscle car magazine. “The blonde?”

“No the beer belly with the beard.”

How ignored Roley, a skill they’d all perfected. “She’s damn fine.”

“Fierce.”

“Dibs.”

Roley sighed. “You can’t have dibs. You didn’t see her first.”


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