Chart Toppers (Star Maker Book 3) (34 page)

Giselle
was intrigued and tilted her head to the side.
 
“Who is this doctor guy?
 
You said he’s local.
 
Is he private practice or does he work
at one of the big hospitals?”

Kit
frowned and rolled her emerald eyes upward, desperate to recall what Moira had
told her months before.
 
She drew a
blank temporarily and then was only able to recall a few small details.
 

She
grinned and pointed at Giselle.
 
“He
works at one of the big local hospitals in L.A. but don’t ask me which one,
‘cuz I have no idea.”
 
She cringed
trying to jog her memory and shook her head knowing she was at a loss for any
additional details.
 

She
chuckled.
 
“The guy’s a
surgeon.
 
Can’t remember what
kind.
 
Anyway, they meet once a
quarter.
 
According to Moira and
Tabitha, the foundation has gained close to seven figures in six months, and
they attribute it to this doctor guy using his pull in the medical
community.
 
Their next quarterly
meeting is Tuesday.
 

“They
planned to have me show up as a surprise so I could meet him personally.
 
They want to install him and a few of
his colleagues as board members.
 
They don’t necessary need my approval to do it, but I think they just
wanted me to meet him.
 

“Moira
is convinced that the combination of getting Tabitha on staff as managing
director then securing the relationship with this surgeon guy has catapulted
our foundation to successes beyond what we ever envisioned.”

She
sighed and cast her eyes down.
 
“I
wanted to thank this guy personally, whoever he is.
 
I don’t think he has any idea of the
impact he’s making for our family on a personal level.
 
This whole foundation and its rapid
expansion is the stuff my grandmother dreamed of.
 
She always wanted to do something like
this.”
 

She met
Giselle’s eyes.
 
“I guess that
meeting will have to go on hold for another time.
 
I just feel like I haven’t done enough
for this foundation.
 
The intent is
there.
 
The desire is in my heart,
but it keeps getting pushed back by other things.
 
Can you call Tabitha and see if you can
get her on my schedule for dinner or drinks or both tonight?
 
Hopefully, I can tell her she’s doing a
great job before we head out.”

Giselle
leaned forward and reached for Kit’s hand as she gazed into her eyes.
 
“Hey, you will get the chance to thank
this surgeon someday.
 
Your grandma
is probably so proud of you right now, gatinha.
 
Remember how you told me she always
encouraged your career in music?
 
Well, baby, you’re up for a Grammy because of your songwriting
ability.
 
I’m sure she’s smiling
down on you.
 
The foundation will be
here when the tour’s over.
 
Maybe
you can honor her memory by taking a more active role then?”
 
She gave her hand a reassuring
squeeze.
 
“I know how much she meant
to you.
 
You’re fulfilling all of
her dreams for her.”

Kit’s
eyes welled up with tears, and she grinned.
 
“Oh, G, that was so sweet of you.
 
Thank you for saying that.
 
You totally nailed it.
 
You’re right.
 
She would be telling me to go to the
Grammy’s, grab my award and get on a plane to go push my music career forward
and keep my hubby happy.”

Giselle
smiled wide and nodded.
 
“Yeah,
that’s it, Kit.
 
I’ll call Tabitha
right now.
 
I’m sure she can clear
her schedule to accommodate you tonight.”
 
She squeezed her hand and let go as she got up to return to her desk.

Kit
grinned and nodded.
 
“Thanks,
G.
 
Don’t know what I’d do without
you.”

She
giggled as she dialed Tabitha’s number.
 
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

Kit
smiled. “Not yet.
 
But one day, you
will get promoted in my organization, and you won’t be my assistant
anymore.
 
At this rate, you’ll be
running a division or something.”

Giselle
smiled wide and nodded as she started a conversation with Tabitha on the line.

Spencer
knocked on the door of the two-bedroom suite at the Beverly Hilton Kit had
rented for she and Giselle knowing the schedule for the Grammy’s would be
unforgiving.
 
Giselle swung open the
door and whistled at him while admiring his elegant monochrome
ensemble—an elegant black Armani suit with a black shirt and a black silk
tie.
 

He
smiled.
 
“Thanks.”
 
He leaned forward and gave her a kiss on
the cheek.
 
“You look great, G.
 
You clean up really nice.”
 

She
grinned.
 
“Thanks.
 
I think your date is ready. C’mon in.”

Spencer
strolled into the living room and headed toward the sliding doors to admire the
view while Giselle went to fetch Kit from her bedroom.

She sauntered
out moments later, smiling from ear to ear in a black Versace gown that hugged
the curves of her body like a glove.
 
The top of the gown displayed a strapless black corset with an intricate
overlay of weaved black leather straps narrowing down into an elegant, long,
black taper gown.
 
Her red tresses were
tousled into a messy updo that looked elegant, yet embodied a rocker edge.
 
Her smoky eye makeup made her green eyes
stand out more than ever.
 

She
smiled and called out to him.
 
“Hey,
Spence.”

He
turned around and smiled in awe.
 
“Is that you, sis? You look amazing!
 
Sully would die if he saw you.”

She
giggled.
 
“G has already taken quite
a few pictures and with any luck he’ll see me on TV if we win.
 
The guys were planning on staying up and
watching it in their rooms.”

He
grinned and nodded confidently.
 
“I
have a good feeling about tonight, Kit.
 
Something in the air.”

Giselle
approached them.
 
“Kit, we have to
roll.
 
Your publicist called, and we
need to get you over to the red carpet.”

Spencer
held his arm out for her.
 
“C’mon,
Kitty, let’s go get ‘em.
 
Since when
did you get a dedicated publicist?”

She
giggled.
 
“Since earlier this
week.
 
It’s been crazy.”

Kit
didn’t get to do as much socializing as she would have liked before they had to
take their seats.
 
She sat down and
smiled as she turned around, content with her surroundings.
 
Lew, Pete, and Jonathan were sitting in
the row behind her with their wives.
 

She
giggled and couldn’t resist sharing the pun that popped into her mind.
 
“Nice to know you guys have my back.”

Lew
leaned forward and put his hand on her shoulder.
 
“Always, Kitten.
 
We’re hoping for a win too.”
 
He patted her on the shoulder and winked
at her.

Early
in the evening, Jade Riff won the Grammy for best new artist, and when they
were up on the stage giving their acceptance speech, they thanked her
profusely.
 
She smiled and blew them
kisses of gratitude.
 
She was
genuinely happy for them.
 
She
remembered when Gypsy Tango won that award years ago, and she hoped Jade Riff
would see as much success as they had.

Kit was
preoccupied whispering an artist acquisition strategy in Spencer’s ear,
oblivious to the fact that one of the categories she was nominated for was
being announced.
 
Seconds later,
Jade Riff, who was sitting in the row in front of her, turned around and stared
at her.
 
Bruce Webber, the lead
singer, smiled wide and motioned for her to come with them. “Kit, c’mon.”

She
looked at Spencer, wide-eyed.
 
He
laughed.
 
“Kit, go!”
 

She
jumped up and trailed after the band, struggling to make sense of all of
it.
 
She walked up the stairs to the
stage, praying she wouldn’t trip on her gown.
 
The announcer’s voice boomed, “Bruce
Webber, Tim Grover, Kit McKenna writers; Kit McKenna, producer.” She glanced up
at the screens that displayed the title of the award being presented: “Record
of the Year.” She did her best to take the moment in and treasure it fully,
knowing it symbolized the true beginning of what she always wanted.
 
She had broken free from her Gypsy Tango
limitations legitimately.
 
She felt
her heart skip a beat with excitement.
 

She silently
stood next to the band as they gave their acceptance speech, and as Bruce
concluded, he looked at her.
 
“And
lastly, we’d like to thank our kick-ass songwriter and producer, Kit McKenna,
who made this song the very best it could be.”
 
She smiled and gave him a small nod
wholly grateful she didn’t have to speak as they were escorted off the
stage.
 

A media
circus ensued immediately backstage, and she was swept away in it with her
publicist acting as a very flimsy life preserver.
 
She stood with the band posing for
pictures and holding her new prized possession, a Grammy.
 

She
helped them rewrite the song that won the award in addition to producing
it.
 
She felt grateful and happy to
have been a part of it.
 
She loved
having a shiny new award in hand but wondered if someone would promptly wake
her and tell her she was only dreaming.

Her
publicist swooped in and whisked her away not missing a beat in constant
conversation while she led her back into the ceremony.
 
Kit took her seat again and received
verbal congratulations from everyone sitting in close proximity, especially the
Diamond Records executives behind her.
 
Jade Riff’s sales would most likely see a major spike as a result of
this, and she knew they were pleased.

She
easily zoned off thinking about Sully.
 
She wished he was there and after speaking with Sean, was very concerned
about his voice and the future of his career.
 
She didn’t get to fret for long, though;
she was jolted back into the present moment when Giselle took one of her hands
and Spencer the other, squeezing them.
 
She searched their eyes and realized the last award they were nominated
for, the one that meant the most to her, was about to be announced. She
listened intently, holding her breath.

The
announcer continued after presenting the nominees. “And the Grammy for Album of
the Year goes to, ‘Triple Tango’ performed by Gypsy Tango, Kit McKenna, producer.
 
Accepting the award for the band, who’s
currently on tour in Europe, is their producer, Kit McKenna.”
 

She
took a gulp of air and smiled as everyone clapped and cheered for her.
 
She stood up and made her way to the
stage, choked up and trying her best to keep it together.
 
She gracefully accepted the Grammy award
extended to her and took her place behind the podium, poised to speak.
 
As she gazed out at the sea of faces
staring back, and the cameras trained on her every move, she grinned feeling a
rush of pride for the band and her achievements.

* * *

Always
amazed at how something as simple as a crisp, delicious apple could make his
night, Kyle took another bite, relishing a break that he knew was going to be
too short.
 

He held
the fruit in his teeth as he opened a bottle of water and walked into the
doctor’s lounge.
 
A few of his
colleagues were sitting at the table, trained on the TV hanging from the
ceiling in the corner.

He took
another bite of his apple and washed it down with a sip of water.
 
He nodded to his buddy, Mark.
 
“Whatcha guys watchin’ tonight?”

Mark grinned
as he forked his dinner.
 
“Grammy
awards, man.
 
I wonder how many
stomachs they’ll discreetly have to pump in the ER tonight after those
parties.”