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Chapter Ten

"So how about this Saturday we go play miniature golf?"

It was Tuesday. The weekend had kind of floated by. Monday had been a little bit of a blur. I was coming down from my cloud today. I smiled at Garrett and took a bite of my french fry.

"I would love to, but Saturday dad and I are meeting at the studio to go over the game plan for the new album and work out a recording schedule. I'll know more once we get that worked out. So can I take a rain check?"

Garrett smiled. "Of course."

"Hey sis, you going to finish your hot dog?"

I hadn't even started my hot dog. They were my least favorite food ever. I passed down my tray to Noah.

"Thanks!"

He finished it in two big bites. The bell rang. I stood up and grabbed my backpack.

"Have fun in Chemistry," Garrett said. I was surprised he knew my schedule. I laughed.

"Yeah, let's just hope I don't burn anything down."

"Oh well. If you do, at least you'll look cute doing it."

Before I could say anything, he grabbed his pack and walked off.

"He is so crushing on you," one of my friends, Lona, said.

"You think?"

"I know." She smiled. "Lucky."

We headed to Chemistry together. I couldn't help but grin.

I was lucky.

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"She can't do more than four days a week," dad explained. "She needs time for homework and friends. And she can't work until the wee hours of the morning either."

We were sitting around a table with four industry execs all who had notepads and pencils and were scribbling notes left and right.

"Okay how about from four to eight on Tuesday and Thursdays, four to ten on Fridays, and eleven to nine on Saturday?"

"Eleven to seven," dad said. He glanced at me. I nodded.

"Well, it'll take us a little longer but it should be doable. Brooke's a hard working gal aren't you?"

"I try," I said. I hated these meetings. Life would be so much easier if all the music industry consisted of was recording and then touring. Everything in between seemed like a giant ball of fluff.

"Now, we've got some great submissions from tons of great songwriters. We can't wait for you to look through them."

A huge pile of papers came my way.

Like I said, I shouldn't have to do homework to sing.

"And," now everyone around the table was smiling. Everyone except me and dad. Dad actually looked suspicious. "We've managed to snag a great artist for a duet for a romantic ballad that just has to make it on the record. It's going to be a hit."

"Who?" dad and I said simultaneously.

"Trevor Tylers."

I snorted. "No way."

"I thought you said a great artist," dad said.

"You've got to understand," one of the execs piped up. "Grenadine is on fire right now. Trevor Tylers is practically untouchable. We've already gotten confirmation from his people that he'll do it."

I tried not to roll my eyes. His people and my people were the same freakin' people. We were under the same record label. They were making it sound like we had just gotten Jesus himself to record with me.

"I don't like him," I said.

"You don't have to like him. It's just a song. One day in the recording studio. Two max."

I sighed. Dad was frowning. Everyone was looking at me. I had a feeling they weren't going to take no for an answer.

"Fine," I said. "But if I don't like it, it's not going on the album. No matter what you say."

They smiled. It was a 'humor her' smile.

"Okay, well now that we've got this settled, go ahead and look through the songs and pick out some. We'll get going on Tuesday."

Dad I stood up. Handshakes were exchanged. I walked out with all of the papers in my arms.

"You didn't have to agree to do the duet," dad said. He took some of the pile of papers from me.

"It's just one song. And I was serious. If I don't like it, it's not going on my album."

Dad smiled. "That's my girl." He opened the passenger side door and I slid in.

My dad was such a gentleman.

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"I could go out this Saturday after eight," I told Garrett the following Monday afternoon. We were both leaning against the area around my locker.

"Is your curfew still ten?"

I sighed. "Yeah."

"Well, we can still go minature golfing. There's a Pizza Hut right across the street. We could do that in two hours."

I smiled. "That sounds great."

"I'm looking forward to it," he added.

"Me too."

I took off down the hall with a bounce in my step. As I neared the front doors to the school, Noah popped out of a side hallway.

"You weren't going to take off in your Maserati and leave me behind were you?"

"I should. I'm still mad at you for what you pulled on the date."

Noah laughed. "Oh come on, I was just looking out for you."

"Garrett's harmless."

Noah gave a noncommittal hum. "Maybe."

We headed to the car, I unarmed it, and we got in.

"You start recording tomorrow?"

I nodded. "Yup. Right after school."

"I hope you threw out like three fourths of those songs. They sucked."

I laughed. "Well, considering you marked three fourths of the papers with a frowny face wearing devil's horns, I kind of assumed that."

"I'm just surprised at some of the stuff that actually gets through," Noah said lightly.

"When are you going to start writing some songs for me to record?" I teased.

"I'm smart enough to know I'm not good enough yet," he answered.

He was fiercely protective of his work. I hadn't seen a song in a couple years. The last one I saw I had thought was good. Really good.

"You don't give yourself enough credit."

Noah leaned forward and rummaged through his bag.

"Sometimes I think two famous people in our family is enough."

I didn't know how to answer that. I had done my pep talk for the day.

Now I had to go home and suck up to mom and dad for Saturday night. I couldn't imagine them saying no, especially after mom agreed that I didn't need 'Noah-patrol.' Plus I had tons of homework to wade through. And I had to practice my vocals.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day.