Mastermind // Taylor Swift

Once I jump off the bus, I race after Char, my feet pounding down the sidewalk of the rest stop. I catch a glimpse of her slamming the door to the silver bullet when I'm twenty feet behind. Seconds later, I'm pounding on her door.

"Char, talk to me." I don't shout even though I want to.

One thing I know about Char, she hates attention. The girl might be loud and brass when it comes to managing a pop star, especially Bree because the two of them have been tight forever, way before Brianna Royce ever became a household name. But Char's not looking to have the spotlight on her. The fact that she was the topic of conversation between a group of guys might be her worst fear come true. Some managers seek the spotlight—managers like that Kardashian mom—but not Char.

"Please, open the door. Let me in." I speak into the crack of the doorway. "We don't have to talk about it. I just want you to know I won't say a thing to anyone. I don't even know what's going on."

Ten seconds later the door swings out and open, right into my nose which was pressed against the threshold. I lose my balance and fall back.

"Whoa."

"Shit, sorry," she mutters.

My arms spread wide to keep myself steady. Thankfully, Zack's been working on my core like a bitch with all the damn burpee's so I'm able to hold myself up.

Once I'm balanced, I look up into Char's face to find her scowling down at me.

"Is this summer camp?" Char huffs, arms crossed. "I thought I was on tour with rock stars, not playing camp counselor to a bunch of gossipy, pre-pubescent little boys." Apparently, she's already moved on from feeling bad that she nearly took off my nose with the door.

I take a deep breath and shrug. "To be fair, Ryan started it."

Char rolls her eyes. "Exactly." She turns her back to me and marches into her trailer. Notably, she doesn't slam the door in my face, so I take it as a sign I'm welcomed to enter.

Welcomed may be too strong a word. But she's clearly not opposed to it if she left me on her doorstep with the place wide open. Either that or she doesn't want a repeat of the door in the nose situation. I take the risk and step inside.

"Dang, you don't mess around," I say as I take in her accommodations. The interior is as vintage as the exterior without being a tacky retro version. Polished wood cabinets line one wall with a full kitchen set up, practically in miniature. A table reminiscent of a diner with chrome edging and red leather seats is set against the opposite wall. Right in the mix is an overstuffed couch and side table where Char has taken a seat, her eyes on me.

"So...you mind if I sit?" I decide consent is key since I came in without being invited. She answers with a raised brow and a tilt of her head. I take that as a 'sure, Jacob. Have a seat and let's chat for a while.' So, I do.

I look at her. She looks at me. I watch as a medly of emotions plays out on her face, none of which I can pinpoint as the main one. All of them at once is my guess. Her vulnerability is unexpected. I've rarely seen Char let her guard down. I recognize the privilege for what it is.

Minutes of silted silence go by before I make what is most likely a deadly decision to address the elephant in the room.

"I don't really know much," I say not expanding because we both know what I'm referring to. "I saw all the coverage of the original incident, but I didn't know any details. If Zack knows anything, he's never said a word."

I see Char's shoulders relax, the only clue I have that I guessed correctly. She's worried we've been talking behind her back the whole time.

"And, the guys know all of my secrets by now because I'm shit at playing Crazy Eights."

Char's eyes shoot over to me, wide with confusion.

"What does playing a kid's card game badly have to do with them knowing your secrets?"

I shrug. "I don't make the rules, I just play by them."

"As if." She scoffs. "Name a rule you play by."

"I drive the speed limit. I don't rip the tags off pillows or mattresses on penalty of law. I wait two hours after eating before I go in a pool."

"Oh my god. That's not what I meant." Char laughs.

I lean forward. "But you're smiling now, so..."

Char tries to wipe the grin away but only succeeds in closing her lips. Lips I can't take my eyes off of. Full, smooth lips that look very kissable right now. I've always thought Char's mouth was perfection, but right now with a slight curl at the edges paired with the crinkle of suppressed laughter by her eyes, damn. Never seen anything sexier.

She must sense the shift in my mood—the one that went from desperate for her to listen all the way to wanting to press my lips to hers—because now all traces of the smile are gone and she's looking down at her hands. I lean back in my seat, purposefully taking my eyes off her so she doesn't feel my stare burning a line from her lips to her neck...and then lower.

Get a hold of yourself, man.

"How much do you know?" She asks after another several minutes of strained silence.

"I know the public story. That some fan breached security, rushed the stage during a live show on their last tour, and tried to beat the shit out of Curt Lewis as he was in the middle of a drum solo."

I didn't realize until this moment how dialed in I am to Char's body language. She tensed when I mentioned the drummer's name. I watched her jaw clench for a split second. Maybe if I hadn't been looking at her, I would have missed it, it was that minor.

Char takes a deep breath, eyes closed, as she takes in what I've said. She doesn't say a word for at least a minute. And when she does, she's so quiet I almost don't hear her.

"And what about the private story?"

I pause before I answer, mentally rewinding the conversation between me and the band.

"They said something about a gag order. That Lewis is suing them because they kicked him out. And that the fan wasn't a fan, but actually your brother."

Char opens her eyes, staring off into nothing, and nods her head slowly, repeatedly.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Is that it? Is she cool with what I know? Even though I'm not sure why she'd be so upset based on the very little that the guys said. Is this over?

Char stands, walks to her door and pulls it open.

"Okay." Pause. "You can go now."

"Oh." Not the reaction I was hoping for.

And I'm not even sure what reaction I was hoping for.

But I know it wasn't this.

I linger, wanting more, something else. Waiting.

Char clears her throat and shoots a pointed look in my direction that's more of a 'get out of here' than a 'what are you waiting for.'

I walk over to the open door, reach out and pull it shut. Char's eyes widen as she looks from the now closed door back to my face.

"Excuse me?" She crosses her arms, rooted firmly in place.

"I still need your help."

"What help?" The confusion on her face makes me smile.

"You're supposed to be coaching me on how to be a better human being." I choose my words carefully, making sure to avoid the term player or douche bag or whatever derogatory phrase she has at the ready. She says nothing so I continue on.

"The way I see it, I was in a tough position. According to you I'm losing out on roles because of my shitty reputation."

"That's just facts, Jake."

"Jacob." I raise a brow. She knows what she's doing when she calls me Jake, but I keep my voice even instead of flipping out like I want to.

"And it seems to me that you're in some kind of dilemma that I'm not fully privy to. I think we can help each other out."

Char gives me a hard look. Her mouth spreads into a thin line and I can't help but lower my gaze right to it. Seconds pass in our stand-off. I can't tell what she's thinking but I'm hoping it isn't to toss me out on my ass. It doesn't take much longer for her to surprise me with her response.

"I'm listening."

Interesting. She leans against the wall, arms crossed and gaze steady. I mirror her stance.

"I don't know all of the details between you and the C1 guys." As I speak, my mind flashes back to the phone call I overheard up at Salt Creek. She was fully upset about something and I wonder if the two situations are connected. But I don't ask. Not yet, anyway. "And I don't need to know, unless you want to talk about it. I'm all ears. I can keep shit to myself, believe me."

"Hmmm. I wonder if Zack believes that. He kept a pretty big secret from you." The smirk on her face catches me off guard.

"Um, what?" My jaw drops a little. "He did? What secret?"

"Oh, you can't be serious. He never told you?"

"Told me what?"

"How he and Brianna got together."

"Oh." I feel my blood pressure return to normal. For a minute I thought my best friend was keeping me in the dark. "Yeah of course. The video shoot. The hot kiss on the picnic blanket that practically set the world on fire. I made him promise to share the details so I could live vicariously through his tongue."

Char makes a face at my choice of wording. "Ew."

I shrug. "Desperate times, know what I'm saying."

"And this is supposed to give me confidence in your secret keeping abilities?"

"What? I never sold his story."

"Okay," she says after a deep breath. "Go on."

"Go on? Isn't that enough?"

"No. Because you just proved that Zack never told you the real deal. That was the public story."

"What?" I shoot up straight and start pacing her trailer, which isn't even big enough to pace.

"What the hell! What's the story, then?"

"Oh no." She puts her hands up. "That's not what this is about. I'm not telling you something you're not supposed to know."

"Holy fuck this just keeps getting worse." I run a hand through my hair. I'll have to grill Zack about this later. Because he better fucking tell me whatever it is he's been keeping from me for a damn year. Some fucking best friend. He doesn't trust me. And that fucking stings.

And yeah, I'm dropping a ton of f bombs in my head which would make my mom sad but I'm pissed.

I throw my hands up. "Fine. Whatever. I'm a trustworthy person, okay. I can keep a ducking secret."

"Ducking?" Char freezes in place and stares at me. "Did you just say ducking?"

I plop onto the couch in defeat.

"Yup."

It starts as a chuckle. Practically a hiccup. But one chuckle leads to another, which morphs to a guffaw then finally a full-on laugh. Char laughing it up so hard that I end up laughing too. We laugh so hard for a good five minutes neither of us can speak.

Once we get a hold of ourselves and calm our breathing, I try one more time.

"Like I said. You're dealing with whatever it is that I'm not ducking trustworthy enough to know about. And I'm trying to rebuild my reputation so I won't get passed over for roles because the director thinks I'm too smooth with the ladies. There's got to be a way to help each other out."

Char's leaning back in her chair. We're both chilled out after burning up with frustration and then overflowing with laughter. She's not scowling at me and I'm not feeling the need to push her outside of her brick wall.

I like it.

"What are you proposing."

Before I can speak, the sound of the motor running fills the trailer. Then we're in motion as our caravan of buses and trucks leaves the rest stop.

"I'm glad you asked." Looks like I've got plenty of time to give her all the details.

Curious about Zack and Brianna's private story? That's all detailed in book 1, Not Another Diva. But also, how cute is Jacob???? He's turning into a true cinnamon roll instead of the douchey player Char thinks he is.

Love me some Taylor! This is a Char POV song, so keep that in mind. She's wondering if Jacob is some kind of genius or is everything happening between them simply coincidence...P.S. The song for next week will be all Jacob.

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Thanks for reading all of the words I write! Someday I'll do the math and figure out exactly how many there are...