ALEXANDRA mulled over the idea for the next few days. She was in the studio working on her third take of a song. She really needed a break. The song was a softer ballad than she had been used to. During the recording session, the acoustic guitar whined beautifully beneath her fingertips. She deftly slid into a minor chord and let the notes hum plaintively. The whispering drumbeat ticked in half-time. It was a single stick tapping the snare to keep tempo with the subtle and emotive tune. It was perfect, and emphasized the haunting melody she was strumming.

She made it through the first verse with ease. For some reason, her mind wandered to the loneliness of her last birthday party. The place had been filled with hundreds of guests at her mansion. It was the party Wilkes couldn’t attend because he was supposed to be recording. Evangeline was also away filming a movie out of town. Her father was in the middle of closing a merger deal. None of the people she cared for had been there. Come to think about it, even her manager Rick didn’t show up.

Her voice barely hitched on a broken note. In her current mood, she decided it fit, despite the error. As she sang, thoughts drifted to concerts with packed stadiums, and the millions of lovesick fans listening to her music online—fans who frequently took to social media to verbalize the strong connection they felt to Lexxi Rock, and the feelings her lyrics inspired.

She stopped.

Overwhelmed by the thought she had spent the past four years of her life with more strangers than friends, she sighed and did her best to snap out of the melancholy. It was definitely time to take a trip. She was homesick.

“Play that one back again for me, Bryce,” Alexandra said into the mic. “I think I want a do-over.”

She adjusted her headphones and cleared her throat. She checked her watch, took a sip of water, and waited for the sound engineer to run the first verse again.

“Not a chance. That shit was off the hook, Lex!” Bryce Wilcox shouted.

Alexandra smiled at Bryce. He was the youthful music genius of a production lead, someone the label felt had a pulse on what songs had the potential to be top singles. She watched as he ran pudgy fingers through the thick black hair that swooped to the right above his twenty-something-year-old face. He looked over at his engineer. The man was vehemently shaking his head, clearly of the same mindset as Bryce—that they had a hit on their hands.

“Listen, you’ve done a few takes, and all of them were great. I used to think there’s no such thing as perfect in the studio, Lex, but that shit was perfect.”

“I think it was a little flat,” she said with uncertainty.

Bryce had the engineer play it back for her. She closed her eyes and listened, nodding her head to the beat of the song. It was strangely different from everything she had written before. Lexxi Rock was known for fast-paced, vibrant, thrilling rock anthems that played up teenage rebellion, matters of the heart, and frustration. This song was nothing like the others. It was a seductive ballad that felt…mature. She had written it for Wilkes, the undeserving bastard. Her eyebrows knitted together as she heard the ebb and flow of her voice through the headphones. She liked it. It could be a great song.

The lyrics replayed.

We are stuck up in our ways

Self-assured and saving face

Without innocence enough

To trust our hearts to fall in love

But there it goes

Without reason

We are falling to believing

It could be

It could be…

As she listened, she wished it could be true. She began to mouth the words of the next part, and the music transitioned faster. The drumbeat picked up, adding the characteristic rock layer of sound to build behind the guitar and drum.

And, if anybody has a shot

It could be you

But what do I know?

We are children make believing

It could be.

Well, at least it sounded good.

She looked up when Bryce shut off the sound and waved his hands to get her attention in the recording booth. He made a face, and Alexandra burst out laughing at his pointed ‘I told you so’ look. She stepped out of the booth to hear what he was trying to tell her.

“You see what I’m saying? This is like batting a thousand, Lex! Seriously, I think you might be getting too bogged down with perfection. So much that you miss perfection when it’s right in front of you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she replied. “You’re probably right. Maybe I need to take a step back too.”

As she left the studio, she began to make plans. Before she could kick off her escape, she needed to tie up some loose ends. It included canceling some appearances, rescheduling a few interviews and photo shoots, and getting out from under so many other commitments. Doing that could easily take months to complete. There was a simpler way. She decided to bypass the red tape with her label, and have her manager meet with her briefly the next day. If anyone could help her disappear for a while, it was the gregarious Rick Lowenstein.

* * *

Rick showed up at Alexandra’s house around midmorning. He was dressed in his signature pinstriped, charcoal business suit, a white shirt, and a flamboyant, canary yellow tie.

“Lexxi, baby. How’s my favorite rock star!” He greeted her at the door with a tight hug, and strolled inside.

“Thanks for coming over, Rick. I can’t believe you had a free minute for me!”

It was so good to see him. She wondered why it was that all the people in her inner circle were the most difficult to see regularly.

Oh yeah, our busy-ass schedules.

She pulled back and got a good look at the man who was like an uncle to her. Rick and her father had gone to college together at some point in the early eighties. The middle-aged manager had handled Hollywood talent for years.

When her father hired him to manage her music career, Alexandra had initially worried the soft-faced gentleman with thinning red hair would be too out of touch with her generation to make the magic happen. In the end, however, Rick surprised her with his invaluable savvy for networking and foresight when it came to changing trends. He was instrumental to her accelerated rock star success.

Rick was outgoing and charismatic. He was something of a chameleon, in a way some may have found insincere. To Alexandra, he was trustworthy and loyal to those he considered family. And to Rick Lowenstein, she was family.

“Aww, dear. You know how it is. I have a hundred meetings a day, trying to keep people doing what they’re supposed to do, and showing up where they’re supposed to be. You, my dear, I don’t have to worry about. You’re always on top of your game. You realize I’m curious now, don’t you? When you called me late last night telling me we needed to talk, I had to show up.” He laughed for a moment, and then got ghostly serious. “Am I in trouble or something?”

“What? Of course not!” she told him. “You’re a saint, Rick. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She had to lay it on thick for what she knew would be a battle to get her way.

“Right.” A peal of melodious laughter erupted from him. He knew her too well, and saw right through her act.

“Let’s go up to my office, Rick. This shouldn’t take too long.”

They made their way from the foyer, through the marble hallway, and up the winding white staircase to her home office on the second floor. Alexandra pushed open the heavy oak door to reveal an orderly room of walls lined with bookshelves of rare first edition books and elegant knickknacks. She got her taste for interior decorating from her mother. Two pistachio green suede armchairs were at the farthest end of the room, positioned beside a picture window that overlooked the backyard flower garden.

They passed under the arches on one wall to a smaller room, and she sat in the white leather chair at her desk. Lilly had already placed a vibrant bouquet of pink roses beside the desk lamp. She did that almost daily, and more often whenever she felt Alexandra needed cheering up.

Rick sat across from her in an armchair. “You know, I was so proud of the way you handled that Wilkes situation the other night. Kyle was completely out of line for playing that clip unannounced.”

“Thanks. Wilkes had me convinced he wasn’t an asshole or a player all that time. I can’t believe I fell for it, but goodbye and good riddance to him. I’m not that hard-up for a man.”

“Good. What can I do for you, cupcake?”

She pictured his reaction before making the move to tell him. There was plenty of work left in Los Angeles that required her presence. Before she could talk herself out of going, she shored up her resolve.

“I called you over here because I have a favor to ask,” she said, looking him in the eye.

“Anything, Lex. Anything at all, I’m at your service,” Rick answered, adjusting his suit coat and crossing his legs as he straightened up.

She braced herself, positive he would change his tune when he heard what she wanted. Avoiding eye contact this time, she blurted out, “I need a break.”

Rick leaned forward and shook his head. “Honey, you know people like us don’t take breaks. I’ve got you booked up for the next six months—interviews, guest appearances, endorsement events, all that jazz. What kind of break are you talking about? A weekend off? I think I can swing that.” He dug into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out his smartphone. “Let me see. Where’s that calendar? Yeah, we can do a weekend, I guess. You’re busting my balls, but I can work it out.”

“No, Rick. That won’t work. I really need about a month. Maybe two.”

Rick’s handsome face fell stricken before her eyes. His sparse reddish eyebrows shot up and his mouth fell open. It was such a contrast, she started to laugh.

“Wait, Rick. Before you say it’s impossible, let me tell you why you’re going to want to do this for me. If I don’t get this break, the remaining songs on this album are going to sound like shit. I’m overworked. The headlines will read ‘Lexxi Rock collapses from exhaustion’. They’re already having a field day with this Wilkes crap. Now, you don’t want an album that bombs and bad press for me, do you?”

“Of course I don’t. Tell me something. Where were you planning on going? Because it sounds like you must have a new boy toy.”

“No. There’s no one. I’m going home, Rick,” she corrected him. “I need to have family around me. I miss Dad. But if you can help me do this, I want the public to think I’m somewhere else. Have them believe I’m living it up on an island or something. I don’t care what you make up. Just make sure it sounds fun enough that the paparazzi don’t end up camping on Dad’s front yard.”

He sighed out a defeated agreement, and began moving around appointments on his smartphone with his stylus.

He’s making it happen!

It was more than a small triumph.

“Okay,” he finally answered. “You make sure those songs are kickass, Lex, because I’m putting a lot on the line for you. I’ll make some calls and get your schedule cleared. You had better come back with new songs and a new attitude. I don’t want to see you moping around the studio when you get back. Enough of the ballads. We need more up-tempo tracks for this album, and I know you can deliver.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she all but squealed and danced in her chair.

Alexandra was surprised by how easy it was to convince him. The two of them continued to negotiate as Rick went through her crowded calendar. They figured out what could be postponed, what they could cancel entirely, and tasks that were too important to wait. By the time they were done, she had a clear picture of what was expected of her before leaving. She could get home to Tucson before the month was out. That was an exciting prospect.

“Come on, Rick. Let’s go downstairs to celebrate. Lilly made you your favorite for lunch.”