Turning to Stone (Heart of St...

By tessalovatt

120K 7.1K 3.4K

[18+] Teddy and Sophia share a complicated past, so when Sophia is offered the opportunity of a lifetime to w... More

READER INFO
Chapter 1: Interrogation
Chapter 2: Confession
Chapter 3: Friendship
Chapter 4: Senses
Chapter 5: Impersonation
Chapter 6: Drunk
Chapter 7: Ego
Chapter 8: Anger
Chapter 9: Protection
Chapter 10: Flowers
Chapter 11: Robot
Chapter 13: Cocktails
Chapter 14: Flirty
Chapter 15: Feelings
Chapter 16: History
Chapter 17: Blindsided
Chapter 18: Distance
Chapter 19: Recognition
Chapter 20: Confidence
Chapter 21: Emotion
Chapter 22: Afterparty
Chapter 23: Reality
Chapter 24: Compromise
Chapter 25: Dinner
Chapter 26: Rules
Chapter 27: Kneeling
Chapter 28: Intimacy
Chapter 29: Pain
Chapter 30: Chat
Chapter 31: Practice
Chapter 32: Messages
Chapter 33: Insecurities
Chapter 34: Party, Pt 1
Chapter 35: Party, Pt 2
Chapter 36: Party, Pt 3
Chapter 37: Party, Pt 4
Chapter 38: Bonding
Chapter 39: Loss
Chapter 40: Autograph
Chapter 41: Date
Epilogue: Paradise
BOOK 3

Chapter 12: Workaholic

2.2K 156 38
By tessalovatt

Chapter 12: Workaholic

Zola wouldn't let me anywhere near the organisational side of the music school operation, but she did throw me a bone during our journey there.

"Want a stab at the press release?"

I jerked up my head from my phone so fast that my neck cricked. "Really?"

Without looking across at me from her seat to my right, she nodded. "I'm happy for you to give it a go, on the basis that it will go through several rounds of approval before seeing the light of day."

Rather than the knock-down demoralising me, it ignited a flame of competitiveness. This was my opportunity to prove myself and remind everyone why they'd taken a chance on me. Even if it went through a hundred rounds of approval, it would still have been born from my hands and mind.

As we pulled up a couple of streets away from the building—we had to avoid it looking obviously staged otherwise it would cast doubt over Teddy's authenticity—Mark and Danny jumped out of the car in front and headed around the corner. Zola reached into her bag for her camera. They'd decided inviting journalists would risk too many unknowns, and given that Ed was currently treading on thin ice with his reputation, I could understand the desire for total control over the visit. Instead, Zola would snap the photos and auction off to the press.

Ed waited for Security's green light, and Zola slinked off into the shadows. They'd pulled the same stunt with Lacey earlier on in the year: the photos needed to be far enough away to look like sneaky paparazzi shots while being close enough to leave nothing to chance of misinterpretation.

Knuckles rapping against my window tore my eyes away from Zola and onto Helen. I cracked open the door and gazed up at her.

"Ready?" she asked. "Try to keep your mouth shut as much as possible. We can't risk saying anything that would suggest this is part of a stunt."

I put that into practice right away, because if I had opened my mouth, I might have accidentally told Helen exactly what I thought of her patronising tone.

Unclipping my seat belt, I shuffled out of the car and wrapped my coat tighter around me as the chilly October air replaced the warmth of the car's heaters. Ed leaned against the car in front, his serious eyes landing on me for a fraction of a second before returning to the street ahead. He was in business mode, but I knew his friendly stage persona would shine through as soon as he stepped into the building.

Danny's short frame appeared from around the corner, and he fired us a thumbs up before retreating again.

"Remember the brief?" Helen checked with me as Ed strode forwards, temporarily disappearing out of sight around the corner.

"For the staff: deeply apologetic for the intrusion, hugely grateful for their time, and mildly embarrassed about the inevitable disruption." I checked off each item with my fingers. "For Ed, give him space but don't let him out of my sight."

"Good. Let's go."

Helen and I waited for a few more seconds before following Ed around the corner. Seeing him walk along a street seemingly alone with no surrounding security highlighted once more how differently he lived his life compared to the rest of us. Something so ordinary looked so strange.

"Thank you so much for letting me in at short notice," Ed was saying to the reception desk as we crossed the threshold to the building. "I saw your appeal on Twitter and wanted to stop by. I'd love to sit in on some lessons if it's not an inconvenience?"

The young girl behind the computer screen stared up at him with a dazed expression, her lips slightly parted and eyes wide. She barely looked old enough to be out of school, and her rosy cheeks reddened as Ed continued his charm offense.

"Teddy." Helen clasped his wrist and pulled him backwards, sliding in front of him to address the receptionist. "We really are so sorry. When he gets an idea in his head..."

Springing to life now that she was faced with a regular human, the girl tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear and sat up straighter.

"It's honestly no problem at all. The kids have been so disheartened with the recent news, and this will really perk them up."

"The last thing we want to do is cause a distraction. If our presence here begins to disrupt things, please just let me know and we'll leave immediately."

The girl bobbed her head up and down, and the large silver hoops in each ear bounced emphatically.

"Yeah. Sure."

But the starstruck glint in her eyes when she peered across at Ed again suggested she had absolutely no intention of asking us to leave.

*

Despite our promises, we all knew there was no way that a famous pop star could walk into a room of kids and not cause a huge commotion. There were squeals and tears in equal measure. As Helen and I stood off to the corner, Ed engaged with the students, the charisma and natural ease oozing out of him with every conversation, smile, and hug.

Talking to teenagers and adults was one thing, but kids were an entirely different species at times. Some people had that gift where children instantly loved them and vice versa. I didn't. They terrified me. Their excitable and fearless vibe just didn't gel with my anxiety-ridden, cautious approach to life.

Yet as we moved from room to room and I watched Ed connect with each child, my heart beat a little faster, spreading warmth around my body. Even his acting skills had their limits. There was nothing fake about the way he helped tune one boy's guitar or offered a high-five to a girl who nailed a pitching exercise. When a couple of other students struggled to execute the teacher's breathing techniques, Ed coached them separately for ten minutes, rephrasing the instructions and suggesting different approaches until it eventually stuck.

I'd met Ed at the height of his career—a finished product who topped charts, wowed crowds, and crushed live performances. How long had it taken him to get there, though? Had he faced these same challenges during his own classes?

It was hard to imagine him struggling with something music-related, but natural talent only got you so far. Perhaps that explained his apparent flair for teaching: he could relate to these children and offer a closer perspective.

He'd been just as keen as Zola and me to come here. While we might have been partially motivated by a publicity opportunity, though, Ed's intentions seemed purer. The joy on his face was not a mask, but genuine happiness, those endearing dimples a permanent feature that tugged harder and harder at my heart with every smile.

A thick lump formed in my throat as I shrugged off my coat, suddenly feeling faint from the heat. When I turned to Helen to explain that I needed some fresh air, I found her watching me with guarded eyes and lips pressed tightly together. She said nothing, but I felt like I'd been caught red-handed, her scrutiny of me interrupting a moment that had felt increasingly personal.

"I'm going to pop outside quickly to type up some notes," I said, swiftly changing my excuse. "Don't want to get my phone out in here—it'll look rude."

She nodded and switched her attention back to Ed. If she had an opinion to express, I'd apparently have to wait to hear it.

I slipped out of a side door and perched on the end of a picnic bench, going along with my excuse by pulling out my phone to jot down some notes. Although I started off doing just that, at some point my bullet points evolved into sentences, and my piece soon wrote itself, as if my brain desperately needed to transform its thoughts into physical words so as to release them from consuming my mind.

*

"Tell you what, Gabs: it's a good job you're here else I'd be very lonely."

Mac's elbow jabbed into my side, and I winced, shuffling my seat further away from him. Undeterred, my fingers continued to fly across my phone's keyboard as I hurried to add another sentence into my press release draft.

"What's up, Soph?" Gabby asked, her approach far more sympathetic than our mutual friend's.

"Nothing. Long day," I said.

"I thought I was a workaholic." Mac leaned across the table to top up Gabby's wine glass. My orange juice sat untouched in front of me.

"I'm not working," I said. "Just had some thoughts come to me that I needed to get onto paper before I forget them."

Since visiting the music school yesterday, my head had not switched off. Visions of Ed interacting with those excited kids replayed over and over, and rather than their impact dulling, they just inspired me more and more. By the time I finished with this press release, the whole world would adore Teddy Stone just as much as those students did.

"Will you still be having these thoughts on Saturday?" Gabby asked me.

I paused mid-sentence to stare across at her, trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind her words. This was business—purely professional—so naturally I had to portray Ed in a positive light. That was literally my job. Plus, I needed to win back Zola's approval, and a strong first draft would help wonders.

"What do you mean?" I kept my tone casual, hoping she wouldn't detect the mild panic swirling through me.

"Charlotte's really excited. You know you're on her shortlist of people she loves to go out with? I'd rather you didn't spend the whole night working. Please."

Relaxing, I let my shoulders drop, the tension draining out of them. "Oh. No, I'll be done by Saturday. I'm submitting it tomorrow."

As I refocused on my phone, Mac rested his elbows on the tabletop and leaned closer to Gabby.

"Firstly, what is happening on Saturday night that I haven't been invited to? And secondly, I assume I'm also on Charlotte's shortlist?"

"No, she actually thinks you're a bit of a dick. Sorry."

I snorted at that, glancing up to capture Mac's horrified expression, his mouth falling open.

"She's only met me once!"

"That's all it takes," I said, tossing him a playful smile before casting my eyes downwards again.

"Fuck you, Palmer. You came back for seconds."

I chuckled, finishing off a sentence before dropping my phone back into my bag. "Yeah. Only took me eight years."

Gabby sighed wistfully, swirling around the wine in her glass. "Wow. Eight years since we started uni? That's crazy."

"Tell you what's crazy," Mac said, tilting his own glass towards Gabby. "Charlotte not liking me. What's not to like? I'm charming."

Although I knew he hadn't taken real offence, I secretly agreed with him. Charlotte and Mac had met a couple of months ago, after I'd re-connected him with Gabby. We'd all grown to love Mac's carefree attitude to life, but Charlotte hadn't shared our fondness for his playful antics, likely because his attempt at recreating a beer funnel had accidentally flooded their hotel room floor and ruined a very expensive pair of Louboutins.

Ironically, I saw a lot of similarities between the two of them and knew she'd love him if she got to know him. But that wouldn't be happening on Saturday.

"You can't come on Saturday because there's a strict guest list. Plus my colleague will be there," I said.

"So he gets invited rather than me?"

"He's the one who got us onto the guest list, so yes. One of Charlotte's favourite singers is hopefully going to show up. It's part of her birthday celebrations."

With a huff, Mac let it drop and excused himself to the bathroom. His refusal to hear any details about Ed's identity meant that he'd never have turned up anyway, even if we'd invited him.

Now alone, Gabby nudged my foot under the table. "And how is the friendship working out?"

My mind drifted back to the music school. For the first time in months, I hadn't looked at Ed and wanted to drag him into bed. Maybe because we were surrounded by children, so the thought hadn't exactly entered my brain, but the emotions that had temporarily replaced the lust were no easier to deal with.

"Fine," I said. "Early days. Barely seen him, to be honest."

Apart from constantly in my head, of course. Because just like one of his Top 10 hits, Teddy Stone was playing on repeat. 

***

Thank you for reading :) xx

***

Hope you enjoyed the chapter! I haven't had chance to properly edit it but didn't want to go too long between uploads. The next couple of chapters (Charlotte's birthday) are some of my favourites <3

Thank you for your US recommendations! I'm having a great time -- follow me on Instagram (authortessalovatt) to see my photos. 

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