It was ten o'clock on Thursday night and Emily was sequestered inside of her apartment. She sat cross-legged on her living room floor in what Kundalini yoga called easy pose, while also lightly pressing the tips of her thumbs and index fingers together. She breathed in deeply, then exhaled, getting ready for the next exercise.
She raised her arms, about to begin breath of fire, but lost her focus when her phone alerted her to a new text message. She glanced over at it, next to her on the floor, and read the message on its screen.
I keep thinking about what you said the other night. Can we talk? Still miss you.
It figured Cory would choose right now to text her. Peaceful was not something her life seemed meant to be, even when she was alone in her own home.
She looked away from her phone and focused on the yoga exercise. Her text alert sounded again.
I'm doing a surprise solo acoustic show this weekend at the Hotel Café. Please come?
"Of course you want me to come," she muttered. What could guarantee him more press just before his album release than her showing up to his intimate acoustic show?
She pushed her phone out of her reach. If he couldn't let her live her life in peace, she could at least try to enjoy the rest of her yoga exercises.
And why do I have to do this alone, instead of at my favorite yoga class? Oh that's right. Because if one of Cory's fans was there—and they seem to be crawling out of the woodwork these days—they'd probably knock me over with their rolled-up yoga mat by "accident."
She turned her attention back to her yoga DVD and saw she was an exercise behind. She pulled her legs beneath her to sit in rock pose. She'd gotten through two more exercises when her phone rang.
"That's it! You're going off." She stood up to retrieve her phone. When she picked it up, though, she saw it was Shelby calling her.
She tapped the screen to answer it. "Thank you for not being Cory."
"Don't tell me he's bugging you again?" Shelby spoke in a hushed voice, even though Emily could hear that she was competing with music and voices in the background.
"He wants me to come to his show this weekend, if you can believe that."
Emily sat back down on the floor, stretching her legs out in front of her, then leaned over to try and bring her body parallel to her legs. It was what Kundalini yoga referred to as a life nerve stretch. She'd brought her body only halfway to where she wanted it to be when she felt a painful pull in the backs of her legs. If your life nerve is tight, something isn't right, her yoga teacher always said. That was for sure. She sat up again.
"A Blistering Twilight concert?" Shelby asked.
"Nope, better. It's a solo acoustic gig at the oh-so-spacious Hotel Café, where I won't be spotted by anyone. You know, as long as I don't go."
"That sounds like a blast," Shelby said. "Did you answer him?"
"No, I think I've learned silence is better. But so you know, the next time I go out with someone, I'm having you screen them first."
"Sounds like a plan to me." Emily imagined Shelby her nodding her approval on the other end of the line. "And on a related topic, I'm about to make your night a whole lot better."
"Please do. I'm home alone, hiding from the world. The next stop for me is reclusive hermit."
"I have a feeling you'll be going out again a lot sooner than you think." Shelby's voice had a peculiar tone.
YOU ARE READING
Rock Star's GirlChickLit
☆ PREQUEL TO HIDING OUT IN HOLLYWOOD ☆ Emily Watts just wants a weekend break from the workaholic hours she's taken on to keep her popular fashion-snark website up and running. What she gets is overnight celebrity and a career-killing media scandal...