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remembered to raise the mic to her lips after the first verse. She didn’t want to “take it from the top” again so she sang the song with as much umph as she could on a huge white stage with a cluster of onlookers.
    When she finished , there was a horrible moment of silence. She opened her eyes and looked out over the crowd. She met Alan’s eyes as his mouth curved and he began to clap. Others joined until the crowd whistled and cheered. A blush crept over her cheeks and she wasn’t sure whether she should curtsy or give the Miss America wave. Before she could decide Trey came up beside her.
    “ As you can see, we have a lot of work. Thanks, everybody, you can get back to work,” Trey said.
    Gwen whirled on him. “ What ?”
    “ You think you can sing at the shows with your eyes closed?”
    Gwen had to restrain herself from pushing him off the stage. She groaned when he said what was becoming her least favorite phrase in the world.
    “ From the top!”

Chapter Four
     
    “ Gwen, move around the stage!”
    “ Gwen, open your eyes when you sing!”
    “ You missed your mark!”
    “ Where’s your mic?”
    This was officially the longest three days of her life. It was eight at night and they were the only ones still in the building which was becoming a habit Gwen wasn’t fond of. She scarfed down two sandwiches that Angie had ever so helpfully dropped off so she wouldn’t leave the building. Trey suspected Gwen might not come back and he was right.
    Gwen scrolled through her messages and saw a taunting picture from Natasha of her view of the ocean from her hotel room in Bora Bora. Bitch. Gwen struggled every day to walk onto this stage and be criticized and shoved out of her comfort zone because Natasha was throwing a bitch fit. Gwen furiously typed a nasty message and her finger hovered over the send button but Natasha was her biggest client and she didn’t want to burn bridges… Gwen glared at Trey as he talked on his cell. This might just be the best reason of all. If it wasn’t for Natasha’s selfish diva antics she wouldn’t be in this situation. She erased the text and fantasized about taking a picture onstage during a concert. She would stand in the middle of the stage with her hair blowing back, confident and defiant and she would send that picture to Natasha who thought she couldn’t sing.
    T rey hung up his phone. “Okay, let’s do Touch Me .”
    Gwen got to her feet and took the microphone which was actually beginning t o feel comfortable in her hands. On the first and second day, she tried to step off the stage whenever she took a break but Trey put a stop to that. He made her spend at least eight to ten hours on the stage and she was finally beginning to feel as comfortable here as she was in her apartment in New York. She now knew the dimensions of the stage with her eyes closed which would be valuable when she walked on when the lights were off. She was so far out of her comfort zone that she had an anxiety attack every morning and had to be forced into the warehouse, which is why Trey was staying at the same hotel as her and dogging her every step. She didn’t appreciate it because they were followed by paparazzi.
    Trey was taking over her life and she kept wondering how she got herself into this mess. He came to her hotel room every morning with coffee and chattered easily while she tried to delay going to the warehouse. He would hustle her into the car and they would rehearse until her head began to pound and she resented her own songs. He would drive her back to the hotel, see her to her door and begin the ritual the next day. He never got angry and was her own personal cheerleader/motivator. It was both touching and irritating at the same time.
    Trey faced her across the stage. He was coming into a beard that she actually thought looked good on him. Despite the late hours and dozens of other things he had to take care of on top of coaching her, he looked surprisingly alert. She knew