The Fiery Boys (A Sample)

Jason laughed derisively. "Well, let me give you a tip. The Fiery Boys are nothing more than four stupid kids who made it big. And I'm not just talking about Buck, the so-called dumb one."

There was that idea again that Buck was dumb. Sure, he didn't say much and was somewhat slow when he spoke, but he never said anything truly stupid. Back in high school, I decided he was cautious. It seemed to me that the people who called him stupid were just annoyed that he had a steady girlfriend and a famous father. And as I now understood, haters gonna hate.

I cocked my head and stared at Jason. "So-called?"

He allowed a half grin. "You know that the Fiery Boys are a manufactured band, don't you? I handpicked them over ten years ago." He leaned toward me and thumped the papers on his desk. "I created them."

Okay, that was disturbing. I leaned away from the table. "Are you saying that you scripted their personalities? You told Buck to act dumb?"

He nodded, his smile gone. I wanted to tell him how appalled I was, but I knew better.

"Impressive," I lied.

Jason smiled and leaned back in his chair. "In truth, it was more of a group effort. I had to work with these four kids. So I adjusted them here and there, crafted them into the perfect product." Wow. The Fiery Boys weren't people; they were product. Very creepy.

"So Buck's not really dumb?"

"It would have been more accurate to call him deliberate. And certainly horny. He and Danielle couldn't keep their hands off each other. The dumbest thing he did was to marry that woman, for which he's still paying."

"Everyone says Danielle destroyed the band." This was a test, of course. I was floating the most popular story just to see how Jason would react.

"Everyone is wrong." Good-he passed the test. Perhaps we'd get along, after all.

He sat back up and knit his brows. "Listen, the boys are together again, but it's a fragile truce. And I intend to keep it that way through this tour." He leaned closer. "That means you, too." He glared at me.

This seemed like the true Jason Bartholomew. Nasty and controlling, but direct. "What about me?" I gave him a fake smile to show I could do that, too.

He blew out a long breath. "I'm not terribly crazy about this contest idea-our public relations people insisted. But you're here now, so I'm not going to complain. Still, I don't want you screwing the Fiery Boys like some horny groupie. It'll really anger the fans. Your job is to smile, be friendly with the boys, and don't get too close. Especially with Chuck. He's a whore who fucks four groupies at once." He wagged a finger at me. "Just don't do it."