Lola is a dog whisperer. With her around, it only takes Pixel five minutes to accept the invasive camera crew that has shown up to interview us.
Joanna Elliott, our interviewer fromSteel Hard Rock Magazine, will conduct the interview that will also be filmed for their social media platforms. For me, it’s par for the course, but I can sense Lola’s nerves.
They’ve arranged two chairs together for us, Joanna sitting in front of us, a small table between us with tea and water. Bright lights and mics intrude on our space. I bring Lola’s hand to my thigh, so I can rub the back of it with my index finger. I know this calms her down a bit.
“You’ll be great, Lo,” I reassure her.
She peers up at me and flashes me a nervous smile, then squeezes my thigh, leaving her hand there throughout the interview.
“We’re here tonight withIndustrial November’s newest band member, Karl Sommer, and his girlfriend, Dolores Beltran,” Joanna starts. “Thank you for speaking withSteel Hard Rockmagazine and inviting us into your home,” she says with a warm smile.
“Of course,” I say, squeezing Lola’s hand again. Here we go.
When I signed on to the band, part of my contract included me being the gofer for publicity to ease off the other guys a bit. Roger’s plan has mostly worked, and I’ve done hundreds of these interviews, it seems. But Lola is stiff and nervous next to me, so I keep our hands laced together while we speak.
“So.” Joanna turns her attention to Lola. “Dolores—”
“Lola. Please,” she says with a sweet smile.
“Of course. Lola. You are public enemy number one since you snagged the most eligible bachelor in the world—named sexiest man alive by nearly every magazine.”
Lola laughs nervously. “Well, I haven’t snagged anyone. Let’s start there. Karl and I, we’re new, but it’s special. We’re getting to know each other—”
“From the outside, it seems much more serious than that. You moved in together, is that right?”
“It’s hard,” I jump in, “for us to go on normal dates like other new couples can. Not if we want privacy. So while we get to know each other, we thought it would be easiest to live together.”
“Lola,” Joanna cuts back in, and I’m having a hard time focusing attention away from Lola. I guess she’ll just have to hold her own. But I know she can. Joanna continues, “Fans are curious about you. What can you tell us about yourself, your family—”
“I don’t talk about my family,” she cuts in, her features a little angry, and I squeeze her hand a bit. “But I’ll answer anything about myself you’d like to know.”
“Why don’t you start by telling us, who is Lola?”
“Not much to tell, really. I grew up in this city; it’s been my home since I can remember. I’m so gladIndustrial Novemberended up temporarily settling down here so that I could meet Karl—”
“And how did you meet?” Joanna takes Lola’s bait.Good girl, Iggy, I think proudly.
“I cleaned his house. I used to work for Sofia—”
“Bren’s partner?” Joanna asks with new interest.
Lola nods. “Yeah. That’s how I got the job at Karl’s. Sofia is like family—more like an older sister than a friend.” She doesn’t go into the private details of Pixel and her attack that first day. That special memory is only for the two of us. Lola is really good at this. She baits the reporter expertly so that Joanna asks what Lola wants to be asked about and skillfully dodges subjects she doesn’t want to discuss. She’ll be a natural at this—when the time comes.
“A true rags-to-riches story,” Joanna says.
“I don’t see how,” Lola shoots back without hesitating even for a second. “I’m not rich. Karl is. And I’m in no rags. I work hard to provide for myself. I’m smart with my money and don’t need Karl’s—or anyone else’s—financial support.”
Joanna smiles nervously, knowing she put her foot in it, so she pivots the conversation. “What can you share with Karl’s fans about him that they wouldn’t already know?”
Lola smiles at me, and it’s tender and sweet. I tip my chin, trying to convey that it’s okay for her to answer honestly. I’m actually quite interested in what she has to say.
“He’s not what he seems, what the media paints him as.” She arches a suggestive brow at Joanna, and she smiles nervously, egging her to go on. “I admire him. From what’s printed about him, you wouldn’t know how deeply dedicated he is to his art. He has the most determined focus I’ve ever seen from an artist. Music is his true love, and he gives one-hundred percent of his dedication to it.”
I blink down at her, stunned at her assessment. I don’t know what this feeling is, but I’ve never had anyone defend me or praise me like she has just done, and something moves in my chest. I clench my jaw because the last thing I need is to cry on camera like a little baby.
“So, you’ve seen him working on new music?” Joanna asks.
“She has,” I jump in. “And I’m teaching her to play guitar.”