All About The Tempo (BWWM, Celebrity, Billionaire, Pregnancy) Read online

  All About The Tempo

  By

  Tamara Adams

  A note to my readers

  Thank you all for the positive responses you've given to each new book. I am thrilled that the hard work I am putting in has been effective in bringing you pleasure and inspiration! Please continue to fill me in on your wants and desires. Each book is getting stronger and more truthful as you give me the confidence to stand up proud and say "'I am a storyteller!"

  My Grandmother Gloria, also known as MeeMaw, was the greatest storyteller of all. I spent endless hours listening to her tell stories about our family and people long gone. She had a fascinating way of getting to the heart of each story, and giving each tale an important lesson for her grand children. I know that she would be proud that I am carrying on the tradition!

  Much love,

  Tamara

  Copyright © 2014 by Tamara Adams

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2014

  1.

  "That's it. That's the single."

  Justin glanced at his producer Robbie. He was bobbing his head in time with the music. That was a good sign.

  A very good sign.

  "Yeah man, I agree. First one we drop. Totally."

  The rep from the label slapped Justin's back.

  "Awesome man. Let's shoot a video right away. We have that director you wanted on hold. Maybe we can schedule a sit down with him later today."

  Justin nodded.

  "Thanks Pete. That would be great. Tell him I want to do something really upscale and classy. Think three piece suit, not a track suit."

  A lot of pop stars would have waited, done testing to make sure the song would be a hit, but not Justin. He did things by instinct, always making decisions based on his gut. His mama had taught him that and he'd never forgotten.

  It had served him well so far.

  Really well.

  He had four platinum records. And that was just his solo career. The boy band that had launched his career at fifteen years old had another three.

  He was a star. One of the biggest in the world. It would be easy for him to rest on his laurels.

  But nobody worked harder at staying on top.

  His mother had worked three jobs when he was a kid. Three jobs and they barely made it by. Nobody was there to help them but she never complained once.

  Justin had decided long ago that he would do anything to make her proud. And she was. Kelly Westlake now lived in a mansion in the tony suburb of Brentwood, Tennessee. She had servants to wait on her hand and foot. But she wasn't idle. Oh no, she served on the committees of at least four different charities. She played tennis and golf and had an active social life.

  He'd made sure she'd never want for anything again.

  Still, whenever he called her to tell her about his accomplishments she always asked him 'what's next?'

  What was next was another hit. His biggest yet. He could feel it in his gut.

  "I'm going to the gym. Text me when Jackson can meet to discus the video. I don't want to sit on this one."

  "You got it man."

  Justin headed out to the gym he worked out at five days a week. He also had a weight bench in the guest room of his condo and ran at least five miles a day. When he was touring he didn't need to do much more than lift though. Not with the amount of dancing in his act.

  And this next tour was going to be even more intense than anything he had done before.

  He had to be ready.

  **********

  Cerise zipped her cello up in it's case. As usual the zipper snagged. It had seen better days, that was for sure.

  Just like the rest of her outfit.

  Her long hair covered the frayed straps of the backpack she'd been using since Junior High School. Her ballet flats were polished to a high sheen but worn so thin on the bottoms she was afraid of even the tiniest puddle. Her denim knee length skirt was super soft from a hundred washes and fit her like a glove.

  And her blue button down shirt had belonged to her little brother before he outgrew it.

  Of course, none of that stopped eyes from following her wherever she went. Cerise didn't know what it was, but she knew that men liked to watch her. Lots of girls might like that, but it made her uncomfortable.

  Right now she was trying to ignore Dave Phelps who was making zero attempt to hide his gawking as she picked up her case and started out of class.

  "Cerise- just a moment."

  Professor Harvey called her back, then waited for the rest of the class to empty out. He smiled at her reassuringly and held out a piece of paper.

  "I have an audition for you."

  "What is it?"

  "They are looking for young classical musicians to play in the new Justin Westlake video."

  Her jaw dropped. Justin Westlake was A list. No, he was above even that. He was so famous that even she knew all of his songs.

  Not that pop was her thing. But he used interesting melodies and advanced techniques in his music. And she grudgingly found her toes tapping along to his songs when they came on the radio.

  "I didn't see it on the board."

  He grinned at her.

  "This one didn't make it to the board. Besides, I don't think anyone else could book it other than you."

  She tilted her head to the side and took the paper. As soon as she saw it, she blushed. It was looking for HOT female musicians.

  'HOT' was written in all caps.

  Really. How ridiculous.

  "I don't know Professor Harvey."

  "Listen Cerise, I know you are struggling. This pays two thousand dollars for one days work."

  Now her jaw dropped.

  "I made you an appointment. It's in a half hour from now."

  "Oh. I guess I better go then."

  He smiled at her.

  "You can do it Cerise. Don't be so shy."

  She nodded and tucked the address into her jean skirt pocket.

  "Thank you."

  Then she headed for the subway.

  2.

  Justin was bored stiff. Normally he didn't attend the auditions but there wasn't a lot of time before the shoot. Besides he could catch up on his emails whenever someone boring walked into the room.

  There was a lot of boring.

  They were about done for the day but Jackson insisted on waiting for one last musician to show up. Said he'd gotten a strong recommendation from a teacher at Juliard. Still, Justin was about to ditch when the girl walked into the room.

  Oh.

  My.

  God.

  To say that she was beautiful was an understatement. To say that his heart was pounding in his chest was also an understatement.

  It was pounding through his whole body.

  Jackson looked up and waved his hand at the girl.

  "Models are tomorrow."

  Justin would do anything to keep this girl in the room with them.

  "Hold up, if she's hear we might as well see her now."

  Jackson gave him a glance. That's when he noticed her pulling a bag into the room.

  "I'm a musician."

  His eyebrows shot up. This girl did not look like a musician. She might be dressed like a preppy school girl but that body was undeniably hot. Scorching really.

  Her face was classically
beautiful. But with those huge eyes and pouty soft looking lips, she was beautiful on steroids. And her long wavy hair looked like silk.

  Basically, she looked like a cartoon character.

  In a good way.

  A very, very good way.

  "Are you Cerise?"

  She nodded.

  "Glad you could make it."

  "I'm sorry that I'm late. I just found out about the opportunity."

  Justin suppressed a grin. She was so damn polite. It was adorable.

  "May I?"

  She gestured to one of the chairs.

  "Please."

  He watched as she pulled the chair to the center of the room. She knelt and unzipped the bag, pulling out a second hand cello. He had to try not to ogle her curves as they were amply displayed in that position. She stood and positioned the cello in front of the chair. Then she sat and did something that made his heart sing.

  She hiked her skirt up.

  His heart stopped as he stared at her smooth and silky looking thighs. Then she eased the cello between them.

  And then she began to play.

  And dayum, but the girl could play.

  Her eyes closed as her fingers moved nimbly over the strings. Her entire body seemed to vibrate slightly as she moved with the music. He wasn't just impressed by her talent.

  He was moved.

  Jackson and Justin both held perfectly still as she poured her heart into the piece of classical music.

  She played the entire piece. Not that she needed to. She was hired the instant she'd walked into the room.

  Finally she lowered her bow and looked up at them from across the room.

  "Wow. That was incredible."

  "Thank you."

  Justin said nothing at first. He couldn't.

  She'd literally rendered him speechless.

  Jackson stood up and leaned against the table.

  "Okay so let's talk about the gig."

  "Alright."

  The angel in front of him nodded and eased the cello away from her body. She smoothed her skirt down over her knees and stared up at Jackson attentively. That was good. Because Justin could look at her like a wolf without her running for the hills.

  "You won't actually be heard in the music."

  "Oh."

  "But it would look fake if you weren't actually playing."

  "I see. Well, thank you for considering me."

  "Oh no, we are done considering. You're hired."

  A smile lit up her face that would have melted the snow on top of Mount Everest.

  His breath caught in his chest.

  In that instant he knew it.

  He was a goner.

  He watched in silence as she bent to zip up her instrument. Jackson handed her some paperwork and told her they would provide wardrobe and an instrument. She just nodded and went outside to fill out the tax and contact info.

  And her measurements.

  He couldn't wait to get a look at those measurements.

  "So what do you think?"

  Justin just shook his head.

  How was he supposed to tell the director he was smitten?

  But maybe Jackson would be able to help him… they could shoot a scene together. See how she reacted on camera.

  He had noticed that she wasn't star struck in the least. She'd barely glanced at him the whole time other than to smile politely.

  He was going to have to put in some work with this one.

  If there's anything Justin knew how to do, it's work.

  3.

  Justin paced the length of the studio space they'd rented for the shoot. They were in Long Island City at Silver Cup Studios. Jackson's team had already converted the space to something that looked like it was out of an old Hollywood movie.

  There were huge mirrors and chandeliers. Black velvet fainting couches. Large artwork on either side of a dramatic stairway that led to nowhere and a faux marble floor.

  It was all black and white. Everything. But every now and then, Jackson would insert a spot of color. Like Justin's blue tie.

  Or the red ribbon tied around Cerise's throat.

  They'd changed the plan from having him being swamped with gorgeous models to just one girl. Her. They'd even worked in a kiss.

  That was the plan anyway. If she ever got here.

  Cerise was late.

  He resumed pacing back and forth. His hair stylist chased him but he waved her aside. His hair was fine. It was wavy as hell because it was humid out but he didn't care.

  He glanced out the open door. It let in a nice cool blast of air. Even without all the lights on, it was getting hot as hell in there. Maybe he did need to put more crap in his hair after all.

  It was just starting to snow. Through the flakes he saw a slender girl looking around one of the other buildings. A security guard pointed towards Justin and she started to run. Her hair waved out behind her like a banner. She was wearing jeans today but other than that her outfit was the same. The same flimsy little shoes. The same busted backpack. And a slightly different color of faded button down shirt.

  He frowned. Where the hell was her jacket? She must be freezing.

  The girl was so underdressed it was ridiculous. But it didn't matter.

  She was here.

  He grinned and stepped away from the doorway to let her in.

  She looked alarmed to say the least. She was out of breath from running. "Hi."

  "Hi."

  She blinked up at him, clearly unsure why he was smiling.

  "I'm so sorry I was late. I got lost."

  "It's fine."

  And it was. He didn't give a damn. He only cared that she was here.

  "We didn't get to meet the other day. I'm Justin."

  She blinked again then glanced at his outstretched hand. He got a jolt when they touched. His hand closed over her silky, delicate hand. Her finger tips had calluses from playing. But damn if he didn't find it sexy as hell. Jesus, if her hand did that to him, what would the rest of her body make him feel?

  "I'm Cerise. It's nice to meet you."

  He grinned at her again.

  "The pleasure is all mine."

  *********

  "You want me to wear what?"

  Cerise stared in disbelief at the clothing rack in front of her.

  There was a large variety of costumes for her to wear. Each one scantier than the last. Corset tops, skin tight mini dresses, and a very short, very tiny tutu.

  A tutu?

  What exactly had she signed up for here?

  They'd also brought her a new contract. She flipped through it while the costume designers took her measurements. She was about to walk out when she took a good look at the document. This was adjusted for two days. At the bottom it said five thousand dollars.

  Five thousand dollars.

  Cerise exhaled loudly. She'd been holding her breath she realized.

  This was two months of living expenses.

  Actual living expenses. Like, she could eat. Eat well even.

  And maybe even get a winter coat.

  She sat down abruptly and let the makeup artists and hair stylists start fussing over her.

  "Everything okay?"

  She looked up from the pages in her hand to see Justin Westlake standing in the doorway behind her. In the mirror she could see her face and his. He was smiling at her warmly.

  She felt the room title a little bit at the warmth in his eyes. It went straight to her belly which rumbled loudly.

  She nodded and forced herself to smile.

  "Are you hungry?"

  Please tell me he did not hear her stomach make that sound!

  Cerise felt the blood rush to her face. He must have because he looked concerned. She wanted to curl up into a ball and hide.

  But she was hungry. Starving really. She'd had a slice of stale pizza for dinner and no breakfast. No lunch yesterday either.

  "A little."

  He smiled at her again.

  "Eggs? Ba
con? Toast?"

  Now it was her turn to smile.

  "Yes please."

  He laughed and disappeared. She almost called him back but he'd moved too fast.

  Was Justin Westlake really fetching her breakfast?

  Even the makeup artists exchanged looks.

  "Where did he go?"

  "Craft services."

  "Oh."

  In a few minutes he was back, holding out a plate and a bottle of water. He leaned over her shoulder and set it on Cerise's lap. She was startled by how close Justin was as he peered at her face in the mirror.

  "She doesn't need all that. Keep it simple."

  He smelled… good. Really good. His body was radiating heat. It must be all those muscles.

  He brushed her hair back from her temple, his expression unreadable.

  "Pull her hair back so we can really see her."

  "You got it."

  He grinned at her and stepped away.

  "Have fun girls."

  "Does he always wear those glasses?"

  The older woman fussing with her hair nodded.

  "Usually."

  "What color are his eyes?"

  Cerise asked the question before she could stop herself. She waned to slap her hand over her mouth but she resisted, knowing the makeup artist would have a conniption fit.

  The makeup girls giggled.

  "Don't you know? They're blue."

  "Ice blue."

  "He's famous for them. That's why he keeps them covered up in public."

  "Well, that's not the only reason."

  They laughed again. Cerise was struggling not to get annoyed. For some reason she felt vaguely jealous.

  "What?"

  "The theory is that he wears them so you don't know where he's looking."

  "I don't follow."

  "So he can check out girls on the fly."

  "Oh."

  Suddenly Cerise wished she hadn't asked. That didn't sound very nice. And he'd given her such a good first impression.

  "You better hurry up and eat. We need to get you into your first look."

  She picked up the fork and speared some scrambled eggs. She was inexplicably nervous for some reason. It didn't make sense since all she had to do was look pretty and play the cello.