Page 1 of Fake Autumn Crush

1

JULIA

Please please please don't let my sister freak out this time.

The sign for Ray’s Diner is finally in sight, thank goodness. I walk as fast as I dare, not wanting to anger my fussy ankle. Now that the heat of summer has passed, walking is a lot more pleasant. I’ll be glad for this cardigan once the sun dips a bit more.

In another ten seconds, I see Natalie through the window. She’s on her laptop in the end booth, stabbing at the keys as if they owe her money. Damn.

As soon as I get inside, I wave to Claudia. "Hey hey," she says brightly. "Black coffee, and water with lemon?"

“Please."

She tilts her head toward Natalie's table, making her high ponytail swish to the side. "She's in a bit of a…state. Good luck."

"Thanks."

Luckily, I might have the solution to my older sister's latest problem, even though I'm still just learning the ropes at Morrison Public Relations, Natalie's firm. I’m desperate to prove myself, not just to safeguard my job, but to reassure both of us that I belong there.

I'm not quite sure my idea will fly, especially since it involves my biggest rockstar crush. Most girls go through a heartthrob phase in their teens; I largely avoided that. But then last year I heard a certain male voice for the first time, and everything had changed by the end of the song.

“Finally. You're here," Natalie says as soon as I settle across from her in the booth. Her dark brown hair is pulled up in an elegant clip, and she’s wearing her casual business look – a gray button-down shirt with black pants. "What, did the bus break down?"

"No. I walked."

She stares at me, her eyes so similar to mine, although hers are more blue than blue-gray. She opens her mouth to speak, then just shakes her head. "Whatever. We need to fix this Sam Silverton issue immediately."

I've been reading the flurry of emails she sent me. Everyone is always so eager to jump on any scandal with a rockstar, but this “issue”, as she puts it, is a definite problem.

Sam Silverton has a very particular image. He's a poet now, not a hard rocker like he was with his first band. His latest songs are classic rock with a fresh edge, and subject matter that's a bit different. None of that "let's get drunk and party with groupies" junk.

Sam's music these days is all about respecting women. Suggesting that they ditch the losers. He has one song that I adore, saying that any man who doesn't do his own laundry isn't a real man at all. The first time I heard it, I nearly laughed myself out of my chair. Especially when he pointed out that a man who can drive a car but not operate a washer has a major problem with machinery – especially “the gears between his ears”.

He’s a good guy, through and through. A man who truly adores women, at least that’s what his songs lead me to believe. His sincerity is addictive. And his deep, resonant voice does something to me, triggering true lust and desire for the first time.

The fact that he’s drop dead gorgeous is almost beside the point.

So, when somebody posted a video online yesterday of Sam screaming at a woman and punching the side of his truck, the reaction on social media threatened to tear his clean image apart.

Natalie is sure the video was taken out of context, and I have to agree. I just can't believe that a man who sings so beautifully about women would behave like that. Although I haven't met him in person, he has the dreamiest brown bedroom eyes I've ever seen in my life. If I ever did meet him, I’m sure I’d turn into a puddle.

"I have an idea," I say as Claudia slips my water and coffee in front of me, flashing me a grin. "Thank you," I murmur, and she disappears.

"Great." Natalie rolls back her shoulders a few times and stares out the window, her finger tapping the edge of her laptop. “His record company already contacted me. They say the next album is pivotal. Nothing, but nothing, can disrupt his writing process as he starts to put it together.”

I take a sip of coffee, then inhale deeply. "Remember how you always say to replace a bad scandal with a good one?"

"Yeah. But it also has to be more interesting than the bad one."

"Sam has never been seen dating a woman."

Natalie rolls her eyes. "Yes. Both a blessing and a curse. No girlfriend means no scandals, but people don't believe he can write about women if he doesn't have one."

"So, let’s get him a girlfriend." I can almost hear Natalie thinking, weighing the pros and cons of the idea as she stares at me. "It can't be anyone in the music scene, though," I continue. "It has to be someone wholesome, like a librarian. Or a kindergarten teacher."

Natalie laughs for a second, then stares into her coffee. "Actually, that might be perfect. Throw the press totally off their game. They'll have a million questions, of course. It'll reinforce his clean image and still be interesting enough for them to want to get the details. At least, until he goes on his writing retreat." She grabs her phone and looks at the calendar. "Crap," she mutters. "That's in three days. Well, two, considering today is almost over."

I’ve never told my sister about my crazy crush on Sam, since that’s unprofessional. She didn’t notice that I disappeared that one time he dropped by the office. I also haven’t mentioned that the idea of setting him up with another woman makes my stomach churn.