Turning to Stone (Heart of Stone: Book 2)

Chapter 19: Recognition

Chapter 19: Recognition

Successful musicians like Teddy Stone had enough money and fame to act as a constant reminder of their accomplishments. Yet someone, somewhere, had decided that the BRITs, the Grammy's, and the AMAs didn't offer enough recognition, and what the world needed was another awards show to stroke the egos of already-well-decorated singers. Perhaps I wouldn't have been so bitter if Ed's song about me hadn't been nominated for Song of the Year.

He'd won five nominations in total, and whatever game we were playing with pretending to hate each other had taken a backseat when my genuine happiness replaced any feelings of hostility. I'd sent him a congratulatory text, perfectly sincere, and he'd replied to thank me, equally sincere.

Then I'd looked at the nominations in more detail, and the discovery of that song had landed with a heavy thud in my stomach, dragging down my brief joy and burying it beneath anguish.

Luckily, Helen had provided me with an encyclopaedia's worth of notes on how to be a convincing girlfriend, and there was a whole section on disguising emotions. She'd also set up a meeting with a girl named Camille who'd made a career out of pretending to be in a relationship with someone. Although I recognised her fake boyfriend, I didn't recognise her face, and that ignited hope within me.

"So you've been with him for two years and you still manage to have a private life?" I asked.

Camille swept her long, blonde hair over one shoulder and cocked her head to the side as she smiled at me. The café heaved with lunchtime diners, yet nobody had approached her, so she clearly enjoyed some degree of privacy.

"Easily. I've got a very plain face, and I try to stay quiet whenever we're being interviewed together so the focus is on him rather than me. If I appear uninteresting, the media don't waste their time on me."

Was it really that easy? I studied her. Smokey make-up framed beautiful green eyes, and her sharp cheekbones gave me serious contour envy. With her cherry-red lipstick, my eyes were drawn to her mouth whenever she spoke, and her tight, low-cut t-shirt teased accented collarbones and the shadow of her cleavage. She was hot.

"You're not plain," I said.

Rather than take offense at a stranger disagreeing, her eyes glinted, and her lips pulled up into a smug smile.

"Good. I'm doing it right, then."

She swiped at her phone and then slid it across to me. The photo on her screen showed a couple stood together on a red carpet, their arms around each other. While I instantly recognised the guy, it was only because I knew he was her partner that I studied the woman more carefully.

"That's you?" I glanced up at her, trying to find similarities between the woman across the table from me and the woman by Jamie Spade's side.

Camille sat back in her chair and folded her arms. Her sassy attitude only added to her disguise. The glamorous siren opposite me barely resembled the reserved girl in the photograph. Minimal make-up with naked eyes. Hair scraped back into a tight bun. A loose but high-necked dress. It was almost like every part of Camille's appearance had been flipped to the complete reverse.

"So you manage to maintain a private life because you're literally unrecognisable," I said. "Good for you. Unfortunately, I don't think I'd get anywhere near either of these two extremes. I enjoy wearing make-up every day, and I'm not willing to forego it when appearing next to Teddy Stone."

"Okay." She dropped the smug smile. "You can lose the attitude with me. I'm not your enemy, Sophia. I'm here to help you."

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude. Only realistic. If this is your tactic, then you can't help me."