When the car stopped Gwen groaned at the sight of the waiting paparazzi. She stepped out of the car and even behind oversized sunglasses, had to squint against the blinding flash of cameras. She held her overnight bag in front of her like a shield as reporters rushed forward, thrust microphones in her face and yelled over each other.

“
Are the rumors true? Is Trey Phoenix going to cancel the tour?”

“
Did Natasha pull out because they had a lover’s spat?”

“
Is it true that Natasha eloped with another man?”

Gwen was relieved to see Angie
, Trey’s uptight, ultra-organized, no nonsense manager elbow her way through the crowd. Although Angie was probably knocking on the door to sixty, she was dressed in gold stilettos and her hair was streaked with red. Angie grasped Gwen’s hand and hauled her into the building. Gwen took a breath when the door closed behind them. Angie looked Gwen up and down with her lip curled.

“
Trey has been calling you over a week!” Angie snapped.

Gwen flipped
up her sunglasses and shrugged. “As I told you
both
, I have a life. I can’t leave a client because Natasha’s having a fit. What happened anyway?”

Angie narrowed her eyes
at Gwen who watched her coolly. It had been eight years since she worked with Gwen but the girl hadn’t changed despite coming into money. Gwen was dressed in sneakers and jeans and the braid down her back was coming apart. The overnight bag was old and tattered and Gwen gave Angie a challenging look that made her bristle. Gwen couldn’t be ordered around anymore but Angie didn’t like telling her client that she couldn’t get what he wanted. Gwen’s absence pissed off Trey which pissed off Angie.

“
Natasha wants what she can’t have so she had a bitch fit and here we are two weeks from the launch of the tour with no lead female singer.”

“
He hasn’t found a replacement?”

Angie
snorted. “I hate her but, I have to admit, no one can replace her and she knows it. He’s trying though.”

Gwen’s
phone beeped as a text came in and she rubbed throbbing temples. “What a mess. Where can I wait for him?”

Angie opened the door to a dimly lit recording studio and tex
ted on her phone as she talked. “He’ll be in auditions for another hour. I’ll let him know this is where you’ll be.”

Angie
’s phone rang and she answered as she slammed the door behind her. Gwen tossed her overnight bag on the couch and through the glass that separated the control room from the sound room saw Trey’s guitar. She looked around guiltily before she opened the door into the soundproof booth and picked up the shiny instrument. She ran reverent hands over the guitar that was as much of an icon as the man himself.

Gwen
sat on the stool in front of the microphone and took a deep breath and listened. Silence. One of her favorite sounds in the world. Her life was a whirlwind of people nowadays and while she loved what she was doing, she cherished the quiet times because there were so few. The plane ride here had been hell. She’d been looking forward to sleeping on the four hour flight and she got stuck beside some young rich boy in first class who was determined to take her clubbing tonight. Gwen groaned when her phone chimed again. Letting out a growl, she pulled it out of her back pocket and scrolled through her emails and then texts.

Natasha:
Trey’s an ass. I can’t believe after all we’ve been through he treats me like this.

Natasha:
Trey can’t replace me.

Natasha:
My ring is on the cover of People magazine.

Natasha:
I’m the second most googled celebrity in the world.

Gwen turned the phone on silent and put it back in her pocket. If it wasn’t for
Natasha, the selfish diva, she would be in her apartment in New York instead of here in Orlando. She rolled her shoulders to get rid of the anger heating her blood. There was nothing she could say or do to make Natasha come back and do the tour, so the next best thing was to ignore her because Natasha hated it.

Gwen
let out a long breath, plucked the strings on the guitar and tried to find her center. Music was in her blood. It made her feel alive and as she listened to the notes hover in the air, all thought drifted away and her heart swelled with joy. Gwen breathed music. Her mind was constantly grasping for lyrics to express emotion and the songs she once wrote for her own enjoyment were now raking in more money than she could use in her lifetime. Being able to write songs and meet the people she had was a blessing she didn’t take for granted. At eighteen, she left her small hometown and became a personal assistant to Natasha Wilde for five years. All she wanted was to be around music no matter what the job was. So, when Natasha snooped through her belongings and found her notebook of lyrics it changed her life. Now Gwen was sought out by music legends.

Her fingers moved on the
guitar strings and she began to hum
The Better Man
, a duet between Natasha and Trey that topped the charts for twenty four weeks. She wrote many songs for Trey and Natasha over the years. The combination of his deep baritone and Natasha’s powerhouse voice made every song a hit. When she finished writing
The Better Man
a year ago, she wasn’t sure she could bear to hear Natasha sing it but she had to be practical. The moment it was released, fans ate it up and Natasha basked in the limelight. Sometimes Gwen hated Natasha because she was the most self-centered woman Gwen had ever met.

Gwen shut her eyes and
let emotion fill her as she played. This song was a piece of her heart. Unlike the radio version which had a full orchestra, Gwen played the song acoustic. She opened her mouth and began to sing. Despite how quiet her voice was, it came out strong and clear in the booth. Gwen lost herself in the lyrics and sang the song the way she created it- with her voice and a guitar.

Trey Phoenix was pissed. He stormed out of the
studio in the middle of an audition and didn’t feel a twinge of shame at the scandalized whispers that followed in his wake when the singer faltered to a stop. He glanced at Angie’s text as people plastered themselves to the wall as he strode past. Wasn’t there a woman on this planet that could sing
The Better Man
just as good as Natasha Wilde? Professional singers had been called in and they hit every note but there was no heart. They didn’t register emotionally what they were singing. He was at the end of his rope and now he had the perfect target for his frustration. Why did it take Gwen so long to get here? Had she delayed her trip one more day, he would have flown to New York and fetched her himself.

He stepped into the recording studio where Angie said
she would be and was ready to blast but found only an empty couch. He blinked in the darkness and through the glass saw Gwen sitting in the sound room with his guitar. He caught her on more than one occasion playing in the hallway or tour bus years ago when they were on the road.

Gwen’s eyes were closed and her body rocked as chords filled the room. He cocked his head as he recognized the melody. He could hear her humming, sweet notes that merged with the guitar. Gwen wasn’t aware of him, wasn’t aware of anything but the music.
He heard Gwen carry a note here and there but never heard her sing a full line. He leaned over the sound board so he could see her better. Her face was soft as her fingers played confidently over the strings of the guitar and she nodded in approval of the notes. Even through the glass he could feel the emotion emanating from her. She took a breath and began to sing.

I have a man that loves me,

that
holds me at night

He tells me he loves me everyday

He wants what I do,

a
stable home, children

Why am I thinking of you?

Goosebumps rippled down his arms and he went rigid with shock. He literally felt as if someone plunged an icy hand into his chest and gripped his heart. Gwen’s voice didn’t project and overwhelm like Natasha’s. Gwen’s voice was pure, husky and sultry. Her voice had a vibrato that was utterly unique and captivating. He’d never heard anything like it.

Distantly, he wondered how much of the song she modified to fit Natasha. If this was the way the song was supposed to be sung, damn it all, why hadn’t she said so? He and Natasha recorded the song with a crap load of instruments that didn’t make as much of an impact as what he was hearing right now. How many times had Gwen altered her songs for Natasha? Trey knew Natasha didn’t like acoustic. She always wanted more- more drama, more instruments and more backup singers. She was never satisfied.

In all his life Trey
couldn’t remember being star struck by a voice until now. He sang with the best singers in the world and never heard anything like Gwen. His hands trembled as her voice rose on the chorus and her hands stopped strumming and tapped the guitar for several beats before she resumed. He was dumbstruck that the woman he considered his only true friend would keep such a whopping secret from him.

The song
ended way too soon for Trey. When the last word fell from her lips he leapt into action before her hand finished the last strum. He shoved open the door to the sound room. Gwen was so startled she nearly toppled off the stool but she caught herself and her eyes bugged when she saw him. She flushed as Trey stomped towards her.

“
Why the hell didn’t you tell me you could sing?” Trey shouted.

Gwen got to her feet and carefully placed the guitar back on the stand before she turned to face him
and fiddled with her braid. “I didn’t mean to touch the guitar. You know I can’t stop myself.”

“
I’ll
give
you that damn guitar,” he snapped. “Why didn’t you tell me you can sing?”

“
I can’t,” she said and frowned at him as if he was telling a distasteful joke.

He waved his hands.
“What do you mean
you can’t
? I just heard you! Here I am searching for someone to sing
The Better Man
when the songwriter can sing it better than anyone else!”

Gwen stared at him as if he escaped from a mental hospital.
“I
don’t
sing.”

Trey ran tingling hands through his hair. He felt off balance and completely confused. Gwen was acting as if the session that knocked him on his ass was inconsequential which
couldn’t be further from the truth. Gwen’s denial that she could sing was like trying to convince him that he could live without air. Trey grasped Gwen’s arms and hauled her towards him. She glared up at him, not intimidated in the least.

“
You. Can. Sing.”

Gwen frowned and started to shake her head. He shook her, rattling her teeth and her mouth snapped shut.

“You can sing!” he reiterated.

“
No-”

“
Damn it woman!”

Trey turned away from her, trying to get a hold on himself. Gwen was his only platonic female friend and here he was, hard as a rock and on the verge of jumping her because her voice seduced him- hook, line and sinker
. Gwen didn’t have a trace of makeup on her, yet she managed to look like the sexiest woman he’d seen in years. He knew firsthand that Gwen was the least vain woman he’d ever met. Her idea of makeup was Chap Stick. He looked away from her full lips and paced, muttering curses under his breath.

Gwen wasn’t sure what was happen
ing. Trey was acting crazy. She was mortified that Trey heard her sing. Trey was a country music legend and in a class of his own vocally. Having Trey listen to her was like asking Beethoven to listen to you plays Chopsticks on the piano.

She watched Trey pace and took him all in. Trey was tall and lean with disheveled black hair and wicked blue eyes that could seduce you through a TV screen. He was dressed casually in jeans and a black t-shirt. He had a square jaw and the beginning of a five o’clock shadow that made him look delicious. She jerked her attention to his face when he stopped in front of her.

“Why did it take you so long to get here? Didn’t you get my calls?” he demanded.

She folded her arms across
her chest. “I can’t just drop everything because you call, Trey.”

“
Having Natasha cut out makes this an emergency. These are your songs on the line.”

“
I know that. I was finishing up a song with a client.”

“
Who?”

“
Grant Mast.”

Some of Trey’s temper faded to be replaced with amusement.
“You sure aren’t a personal assistant anymore, huh? Even the legends are seeking you out.”

Gwen didn’t even try to hide her satisfied smile.
“People want me to translate their life into song. Grant was great.”

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