Part 21 (1/2)
”She is?” Charlotte was doubtful. ”I don't know, guys, I'm feeling pretty exposed already.”
Kat clapped her hands together. ”But that's it! The goal is to promote the song, right? So let's use all the weird press and interest in you to our advantage. We'll make a video, put it on YouTube, and then e-mail that horrible Web site so they can mention it, too.”
”Why would we do that? They'll just say c.r.a.p about it.”
”How can they, when it's going to rock?”
Charlotte still wasn't sure. ”Because the truth is irrelevant, Kat. They just say whatever they want to say, and they'll be mean.”
Jackson had been watching her face. ”How about we compromise? Let's make a simple video, upload it to YouTube, and just see what happens. I can promote it on my band's Mys.p.a.ce page, and we can make a Mys.p.a.ce band page for ourselves. We won't mention your real name at all, just stick with Jack and Charlie, OK?” He came over and took her hands. ”Look, Charlotte, if you want to make a living as a singer, you need to trust your talent enough to put it out there. The song is great, your voice is awesome, and I'm sure Kat can pretty us up for the video.”
Kat laughed. ”She's easy. You, I'm not so sure.”
He pulled out his phone and was dialing already. ”I'll see if Camille can do it tomorrow morning.”
Charlotte walked over to look out the window into the lush gardens that surrounded Kat's family home. It felt so secure there. She was surrounded by new friends who knew her as she really was and who didn't care about her dad. But the rest of the world still hated her. She thought of the guy who tried to kill her. The voice on the phone who still still wanted to kill her. The woman who'd attacked her outside the courthouse. Did she really want to give them something else to take shots at? wanted to kill her. The woman who'd attacked her outside the courthouse. Did she really want to give them something else to take shots at?
Behind her, Jackson clicked his phone shut. ”Great, we're all set. Camille can do it tomorrow, so you'd better pull out some threads for us to wear, Kat Karraby. I'm going to go see about getting that old theater to film in, you know, where we rehea.r.s.e.” He ran over, kissed Charlotte on the back of the neck, and was gone.
OK, then, Charlotte thought. I guess we're doing it. Better just get ready for the ride. I guess we're doing it. Better just get ready for the ride.
THAT EVENING, AFTER her s.h.i.+ft, she talked to Kat a little bit about her fears. Kat, as usual, was laid-back. her s.h.i.+ft, she talked to Kat a little bit about her fears. Kat, as usual, was laid-back.
”Look, it's easy for me to say not to worry, because no one launched themselves at my face in a nightclub or spat on me in public, but I'm still going to say it. Don't worry. First, it was your dad who did something wrong, not you, and it won't be long before people forget all about it. Second, if you spend your life worrying about what other people could take away from you, then you'll be left with very little to take.”
Charlotte smiled. ”You're very wise, Obi Wan Karraby.”
”That is very true. It's my Jedi training.”
”But you kind of talk like an inspirational poster.”
”Well, sure, but that's because I'm Southern. We all talk like that, like warm mola.s.ses on the porch in August.”
”You're doing it again.”
”Sorry.”
FOR THE VIDEO, Kat had dressed them in several different outfits but ended up just putting them in simple men's s.h.i.+rts and dress-suit pants. Camille had been straightforward and had moved the location back to Kat's house.
”Look, this isn't MTV, and we don't have very much time or any budget at all. So let's keep it simple and clean and tell a story. You guys are kicking back at home on a Sunday morning, say. Jackson, you're playing the piano. Charlotte, you're reading the newspaper in this armchair, wearing your boyfriend's s.h.i.+rt and not much else. Curl your lovely long legs under you like this ... OK, good. And then Jackson, you just start singing. Charlotte, join in, and then if you feel like getting up and wandering over to join him, go ahead. I'll shoot it as it comes.”
At first, it was hard for Charlotte to relax, and she was very aware of the camera. But then she looked over at Jackson, who was watching her with affection, looking as gorgeous and s.e.xy and alive as anyone had ever looked, and she forgot herself in the music. She really did love the song, and without really thinking about it, she got up and went to lean on the piano and sing with Jackson. Camille smiled to herself behind the camera as the s.h.i.+rt dropped down just to cover Charlotte's behind but highlighted the slender curves of her figure and the length of her legs. As Charlotte leaned on the piano, Camille moved around carefully to shoot across her brother's profile, catching both his good looks and Charlotte's tousled hair and smooth decolletage as she leaned on the top of the piano. It was simple, yes, but it was very s.e.xy and very well shot. Camille was pleased, and so were they. After half a dozen more takes, Camille decided she was done and went off to edit it at home.
”I'll send it over later on when it's done. It might be late. I've got some other stuff to do.”
Charlotte looked at her watch. ”s.h.i.+t, I'm going to be late for work. See you later!”
She hugged Jackson and shot off. He'd sent the audio file to the radio station the night before, and they were all hoping Albrecht would come through on his promise to play it. Half running through the streets of the French Quarter, Charlotte felt hopeful for the first time in ages.
THE RADIO WAS playing in the kitchen, and after some good-natured teasing, the guys let her change it to the popular station. They were more fond of the local Creole channel, which broadcast fast, French-speaking rock and funk, but apart from mockingly singing along to any Britney Spears song that came on, they put up with it. And actually, Ronnie's routine to ”Oops, I Did it Again” was never to be forgotten. He used a colander instead of a s.p.a.ce helmet, but it was very convincing. playing in the kitchen, and after some good-natured teasing, the guys let her change it to the popular station. They were more fond of the local Creole channel, which broadcast fast, French-speaking rock and funk, but apart from mockingly singing along to any Britney Spears song that came on, they put up with it. And actually, Ronnie's routine to ”Oops, I Did it Again” was never to be forgotten. He used a colander instead of a s.p.a.ce helmet, but it was very convincing.
Suddenly, at around four, the announcer said Jackson's name. Charlotte looked up, thinking she must be imagining it, but she saw that all the guys had stopped, too, and were looking at her wide-eyed.
”Here's something hot off the digital presses. Local hero Jackson Pearl, whom many of you have heard playing in the Big Easy, has teamed up with a singer who might just take them all the way. They call themselves Jack and Charlie, and here's their first single, 'Fire and Ice.' It's clearly homegrown-no big studio involved here-but this is a KCRC exclusive! You can download the song on our Web site and, for now at least, nowhere else!”
And then, in a moment Charlotte would never forget as long as she lived, she heard her own voice pouring out of the radio. The arrangement was simple but s.e.xy and up-tempo, and she was forced to admit it sounded amazing. The guys in the kitchen were dancing around, cheering and hugging her, and she started to laugh out loud for the craziness of it.
Later on, they played the song again. She could hear the announcer grinning as he introduced it.
”We seem to have hit a nerve with this one, listeners. You guys are lighting up the switchboard for it. One more time, it's Jack and Charlie.”
When at last her s.h.i.+ft was over, she stumbled out of the back door of the kitchen, only to find Jackson waiting for her.
”Did you hear it?” His eyes were glittering in the darkness, his smile gleaming.
”Yes!” She giggled as he lifted her high in the air. ”It's weird, right?”
”If by weird you mean wonderful, then yes. My mother's invited every relative we have to come listen to the radio. I had to get out before they threw me a ticker-tape parade between the bathroom and the kitchen.” He laughed, still carrying her, turning slow circles in the alley. ”You are a star, Ms. Williams. How does it feel?”
She squirmed against his waist. ”It feels kind of s.e.xy, actually.”
The alleyway was dark, and he carried her a little bit farther down toward the end. Then, pus.h.i.+ng her up against the wall, he began kissing her.
”You are the s.e.xiest woman I have ever met,” he said, his voice hoa.r.s.e, as he licked her neck. She still had her legs wrapped around his waist, and although the wall was rough against her back, she wasn't paying much attention. She could feel how excited he was, and her own body was getting hotter by the second.
”Maybe we should go somewhere else,” she whispered, catching her breath as Jackson slipped his hands inside her s.h.i.+rt, pulling her close and undoing her s.h.i.+rt b.u.t.tons with his teeth. Cool night air made her nipples harden as he pulled her s.h.i.+rt open, and then his warm mouth covered them, making her moan gently.
”No, we can do it right here ...”
It was lucky no one looked down the alley, although all they would have seen was two lovers wrapped tightly around each other.
Once it was over, Jackson whispered in her ear. ”Your voice was so beautiful on the radio today that all I could think about was this.”
She smiled against his throat, her head resting on his shoulder, the sweat cooling on her back where it pressed against the wall. ”You are the beautiful one,” she replied.
Slowly, they covered themselves up again and started the slow walk home.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO.
When they got back to Kat's place, Camille had sent the video.