Page 23 of Forever Yours

I smiled brightly. “Let’s get started, shall we? I figure the first thing we need to do is choose a song. Several, in fact. Did you get the spiel about song choice?”

When he shook his head, I explained. “Damn,” I muttered, digging in my bag for my phone. “Should we be recording this?”

He frowned. “Why?”

I guessed he wasn’t getting any of the memos. “They want us to film our rehearsals using our phones and send them the footage.”

He snorted. “Are they running a television show or a YouTube channel?”

Though I’d had a similar thought, I shrugged. “I’m just following directions. I get the feeling they got in over their heads with all these contestants and celebrity partners.”

“Probably,” he agreed. “Every time I try to touch base with Evan, he gets called away. I don’t envy his job.”

“If they hadn’t changed the format, they wouldn’t be having these issues.” I sounded angry. Trenton raised his eyebrows, and I sighed. “Sorry. I just still don’t understand why they’re doing the duets when they already had a winning formula.” The only positive I could come up with was seeing Trenton again, but even that was bittersweet. It was as if the universe was dangling a forbidden and very sexy piece of fruit in front of me.

“Have you ever heard the phrase ‘quit while you’re ahead’?” Trenton asked.

“Of course. Who hasn’t?”

“Maybe that’s their strategy. Maybe they feel like they’ve maxed out on the success they could achieve with the show in its current iteration.”

I eyed him. “Is that why Misdirection split up?” The news outlets had all reported a standard line about “exploring individual creative opportunities.” While that was most likely partially true, I suspected there was more to it.

“Something like that,” he muttered.

I’d been prying again. Just because we’d slept together and were musical partners for the coming months didn’t mean I was privy to insight into his past. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I didn’t initiate the split.”

One sentence told me all I needed to know—he hadn’t wanted to go solo. I wondered who had been the driver of that decision. All five guys had been closed-mouthed on the subject, which I respected. Some celebrities were too quick to air their dirty laundry. Unfortunately, the secrecy had only made everyone—including me—even more curious.

“So,” he said, “I was thinking we could open with ‘I Got You, Babe.’”

I felt the color drain from my face. I tried to keep my voice neutral, but it still came out higher pitched than normal. “Really? Any reason for that pick?”

“It’s a classic. Cher was taller than Sonny, you know. So we could put you on stilts. I’m sure we could find a long black wig for you.”

“Oh… ah, yes, that’s definitely one idea.”Oh God.I’d thought I’d gotten off lucky by getting Trenton as my partner. Now, I wondered if I had seriously misjudged him because that song was at the top of my hell-no list. I didn’t care how much of a classic it was.

He stared at me for a moment. “Relax. I’m only messing with you.”

All the air returned to my chest in a whoosh, and I put my hand over my heart. “Oh, thank God.”

He grinned. “You’re really not much of an actress. I could tell you hated the idea the second I brought it up.”

“For good reason, too, don’t you think?”

He shrugged. “There are worse songs, and any song can be adjusted to your own style. Look at ‘Beggin’ by Maneskin.”

“The original version by Frankie Valli was pretty damn good,” I countered. “They didn’t have to put much of a spin on it.”

“True. Maybe that wasn’t the best example. But you get my point.”

I always added my own vocal style to whatever I sang, but it had never occurred to me to drastically change the tone of a song, probably because I didn’t have the skills to adjust the music. Artists were constantly updating older songs, though. In my music program, we’d only studied opera, and there was no way to put one’s own style on it, which was why I’d felt so stilted. I knew the vocal training had developed my voice, but I couldn’t help but think of the time as having been wasted. I could have been doing something that would have made me happy instead of trying to please my mother. I shook it off. “So you think we can put a good spin on Sonny and Cher?”

“I mean… we could. But I really was joking. If this is going to work”—he gestured to the space between us—“you need to speak your mind. We’ve already established that you’re a shitty actress. If you can’t fool me, there’s no way in hell you’ll fool the viewers.”

I would have found his assessment insulting if it hadn’t been spot-on. I also appreciated his honesty. He wouldn’t be doing be any favors by feeding me white lies. “Do you think my lack of acting skills is going to be a problem?”

“No.” His answer was quick and definite. “There’s a performance element to singing for an audience, but there’s also something to be said for being genuine. Not acting is fine. It’s bad acting that’s the problem.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, still processing what he’d said. Though I was against having a partner for the show, I couldn’t deny that I stood to learn, especially from someone with talent. I hoped Georgia was faring as well as I was.

Trenton clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “So tell me your ideas.”

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