Toad Read online

  Table of Contents

  Toad

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Epilogue

  Authors Note

  About Cambria Hebert

  Table of Contents

  Contents:

  Toad

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Epilogue

  Authors Note

  About Cambria Hebert

  A P U B L I C E N E M Y S T A N D A L O N E

  Aerie Boone is a toad.

  At least according to every news outlet and online hater imaginable.

  Accusations of lip-syncing.

  Rumors of being dropped by my label.

  Reports of celebrity feuds and rivalries.

  And then there’s my personal favorite…

  The pending annulment of a marriage I can’t even remember agreeing to.

  When you’re the sweetheart of country music, being a headline is a given.

  Living the headline is more of an uninvited surprise.

  I’m barely recognized for the massive success I’ve had.

  Now I’m famous because people love to hate me.

  I’m a public enemy, but no one knows my side of the story.

  I’m beginning to think it doesn’t even matter.

  I’m burned out, hurting, and everyone thinks I have warts. Ew.

  Becoming a shut-in is exactly what the doctor ordered.

  Too bad my label has other ideas.

  They send me a solution…

  In the form of a red-haired, green-eyed man who wears sarcasm like armor.

  I don’t want a stranger in my house.

  I don’t want Nate.

  All I want is to go back to a time when I wasn’t a toad.

  When I was country music’s princess.

  But going back is impossible.

  Moving forward will change everything.

  TOAD Copyright © 2018 CAMBRIA HEBERT

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form without written permission except for the use of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Published by: Cambria Hebert

  http://www.cambriahebert.com

  Interior design and typesetting by Sharon Kay of Amber Leaf Publishing

  Cover design by Cover Me Darling

  Edited by Cassie McCown

  Copyright 2018 by Cambria Hebert

  ISBN: 978-1-946836-12-0

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,

  business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For all the ladies out there who feel like toads…

  There are plenty of princes ready to pucker up.

  Aerie

  A very slim shaft of light beamed through the otherwise inky darkness, disturbing the complete undertow sleep held me down with. It was almost as if the sliver of sunshine was a raft, suddenly appearing to pull me to the surface…

  To reality.

  As of late, reality was entirely overrated.

  I lay still for long moments, content to fool life into believing I was actually still asleep. Reality wasn’t one to be put off, however, nudging me awake regardless.

  The more “alert” I grew, the more aware of my unawareness I became.

  Where was I? What time was it…? And why in the world was I feeling a draft?

  Goose bumps prickled my skin and chills raced across my body, leaving behind a wintry stiffness in my limbs. Defeated, my eyes sprang open, and even though it was darker in this room than it was under a sky filled with stars, it was still too bright.

  Groaning, I slapped my hand over my eyes, saving them from that damned slice of daylight. The draft was still brushing over my bare skin, so I peeled my fingers away one at a time until my eyes were blinking and adjusting to the room. I gazed across the mattress. The large lump beneath a pile of blankets was clear proof I wasn’t in this bed alone.

  My nose wrinkled.

  Where the hell was I?

  It wasn’t as strange as most might believe—you know, me waking up and being confused as to where I was. That was the life of a singer. I traveled so much, so often, that hotel rooms blurred together, and quite frankly, I was beginning to forget what the inside of my own house looked like.

  I just needed a moment to shove back the heavy curtain of sleep draped over my mind. And to get another blanket! How was a girl supposed to think when she was a giant icicle?

  I reached for the blankets, but all I got was a handful of a scratchy, sequined dress. Forcing my head off the pillow, I gazed down the length of my body.

  Disgust shot through me. Instantly, I sat up, propping myself on one hand. No wonder there was a draft. I was half naked! Yet… also still dressed.

  A dull throbbing made itself known in the back of my skull, and the idea of going back to sleep beckoned like long, bony fingers reaching up from a grave. I blinked it back because I was still trying to understand why I went to bed in my sequined mini dress, short, snug, and held up by straps barely wide enough to cover a bra.
It was hardly comfortable to wear out, let alone to bed.

  Currently, it was even more uncomfortable because it was bunched up around my waist completely exposing my lower half! My underwear was MIA, and I’d been sleeping on top of the blankets, not beneath them.

  Strands of my hair brushed the tops of my shoulders when I turned my head to stare at the still-present lump beside me. Glancing down, I noted that my arm was completely out of one of the dress straps, while the other was still in place. The side had worked itself below one breast, the sequins rubbing rather uncomfortably against my skin and pushing up the underwire of my strapless bra.

  So.

  There I was in a hotel room, freezing from lack of blankets, dress bunched around my waist, bra shoved up over one boob, and a rash forming from the scratching material that looked really good in photos but pretty much felt like sandpaper. Oh, and don’t forget the headache.

  And reality wondered why I tried to stay asleep?

  Sliding off the mattress, I trudged like a zombie over to the wall of curtains. On the way, I passed by a mess of magazines all spread out over the table near the window. Some were open. Some lay cover facing up… All of them boasted unflattering photos and headlines of me.

  Lip-Sync Disaster!

  Aerie and Will Over!

  Oh no she didn’t! Becky spills the tea on her feud with Aerie!

  What the hell were those rags doing here? I never read that trash. Hearing about it was bad enough.

  After sneering at the tabloids, I sent a few scattering off the table and continued on, stepping over them toward the heavy curtain and grasping the edge where that pesky ray of light was coming through. Bracing myself, I drew it back, recoiling from the sunshine beyond.

  A very congested, very urban city stared back at me.

  Vegas.

  Like a floodgate had burst and water quite literally swept over everything, hazy memories from last night flooded my brain.

  The ache at the base of my skull was instantly ten times worse. My eyes watered with the memories, the knowledge of what I’d done.

  There was no way.

  No way in hell. It must have been a dream. I was a lot of things, definitely a hot mess… but I wasn’t that far gone.

  Was I?

  Standing there in the window, bathed in the sunlight of a new day, I squinted as nausea rolled over my entire midsection. I didn’t even think about the fact that my dress was still around my waist, one boob literally on display as far as the eye could see.

  Shoving at my tangled hair and trying to unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth, I took a breath and looked down. After one second of hesitation, I lifted my left hand, barely noticing how unsteady it was as I held it out.

  Sun glinted off the slim silver band around my ring finger. Diamonds caught the light and reflected it back in a way that was most stunning.

  No!

  My right hand slapped against my mouth, and my head shook back and forth as if the denial could somehow erase that ring. Erase what happened last night.

  What the hell had happened!?

  I whirled around so fast I nearly fell onto my bare ass. Before tumbling, I gripped the heavy drapes and steadied myself. Nearly slipping on the magazines as I rushed across the room, I plunged onto the bed, scurrying to the lump still facing away from me.

  “Wake up!” I said, grabbing his shoulder and shaking it. His skin was very warm to the touch. It made my nausea worse.

  He made a sound, then let me pull him around so he was flat on his back and I could peer down into his face.

  “Will!” I said, slapping my palm on his bare chest and giving him a shake.

  His body stiffened and his eyes sprang open. “Your hand is like ice,” he complained, bucking my touch.

  “Will,” I said again, undeterred. “What the hell happened last night?”

  His eyes opened again, this time still sleepy but with more awareness. A smile pulled his lips upward. “Morning, Mrs. Solberg.”

  There was a beat of silence. The kind of silence the likes of Las Vegas had never heard before. “What did you just call me?” I whispered, hoarse.

  Will groped around until he found my hand, lifted it, and glanced at the band on my finger.

  We didn’t… I didn’t.

  He chuckled. “Come on now, babe. Don’t tell me you forgot the most important night of your life.”

  I glanced down at the ring. The wedding ring.

  “We got married?” My voice was still gravelly.

  “You can finally get rid of that hick last name you’ve been saddled with your entire life.”

  I barely heard what he said. There was a very loud roaring between my ears. I shook it, trying to rid myself so I could think. Will chuckled and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me down so I was sprawled over his chest.

  “You can believe it, babe. It’s real. It’s you and me now. Forever.”

  Tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill across his very warm chest.

  “Your skin is like ice.” I felt rather than saw him glancing down at me. “Are you still dressed from last night?” He made a sound. “I know that’s your wedding dress and all, but, babe, you really should change. You look a mess.”

  Forever. The word echoed around my brain as if it were the only word in existence. The only thought inside my head.

  Oh my God. I got married last night.

  What the hell had I done?

  Nate

  Everybody wants a seat on the Nate Train.

  Nonetheless, I was still here. Trudging around campus, freezing my ass off when I knew I could be in sunny L.A. selling tickets, all aboard. Well, not everyone wanted a seat on the Nate Train. Or rather, they didn’t like the destination it was heading for.

  I stepped out of the music building, my last class of the day finally over. It was Friday, but I didn’t have any weekend plans. Same shit, different day. Except, of course, I could sleep in and not sit in classes that threatened to numb my brain until it was rendered useless.

  I didn’t mind college… at least until lately. This semester made me feel restless. Like I shouldn’t be here, but out there. You know, in the world and stuff.

  The wind blew uncomfortably, the chill stinging my cheeks. It was almost spring break, but you wouldn’t know it by the weather. March in New York wasn’t spring. At least not this year. I grabbed the black beanie out of my jacket pocket and pulled it down over my head. The second I tucked my hands into my pockets and ducked against the wind to make the trek to my car, my pants started vibrating.

  Kinky, right?

  After glancing at the name flashing on the screen, I answered, “What’s up, cuz?”

  “Dude. You need a manager. Or an agent,” Ten said into my ear.

  I glanced up, surprised, and got a nice eyeful of a frigid blast of air. “Oww!” I wailed.

  “Nate!” Ten said, not at all worried about my eyesight.

  “I bet it’s a nice eighty degrees in L.A.,” I muttered, offended.

  “Actually, it’s eighty-five.”

  I gave my cell the finger. Repeatedly.

  “Stop flipping off your phone,” he said, laughter in his voice.

  “I wasn’t,” I argued, even though I totally was. “I’m much more mature than that.”

  Ten made a sound, as if he knew I was full of turds, and shifted the conversation. “Becca got another call for you.”

  “Did she give them my email?”

  “Do you even check your email?” Ten wondered.

  “I would if she gave it out,” I retorted.

  “Dude. Big music execs don’t just send emails.”

  “Their people do,” I pointed out.

  “It wasn’t their people who called her. It was the big guy himself.”

  “Santa Claus owns a music label!” I said, excited.

  “We’ve been over this, Nate,” Ten replied, exasperated. “Your dad is Santa.”

  He was a dream crusher. I press
ed an icy finger into my ear. “I can’t hear you.”

  “Do you want the deal or not?”

  I dropped my arm. “Hit me!”

  “Rolland Solberg, as in Solberg Records, CEO of the second-most-successful label in the industry, called.”

  “Second only to your label,” I said, nodding. I knew all the big players in the industry.

  I knew them before my cousin Ten (the hottest thing in pop since like ever, and that’s even after he became public enemy number one) came home and we got close again. Before I started working with him on his new album and a few original songs. Now that his new album wrapped, first single dropped and hit number one, and I’d sold a couple other songs to some big-name artists, I was even more fluent in the business.

  “Seriously. I hear Rolland had a serious hard-on for the top spot, but he’s not going to get it. Not with my album about to drop.”

  He wasn’t even being cocky. It was just the truth.

  “So what does this have to do with me?”

  “Apparently, they’re about to sign Aerie Boone. How the fuck they are managing that, I have no clue, and they want her first single with them to blow up the charts.”

  A little bit of adrenaline started to fill my lungs. I loved it. It was the most addictive feeling I’d ever known. Music always did that to me. I could sense the words stirring around inside me. Even though I didn’t know what words were there yet, I still felt them. I could almost taste them.

  “He wants a song?” I asked, my hand tightening around the phone.

  “Not just a song, a Nate Roth original.”

  I pumped my fist into the air and shouted. Unfortunately, I used the fist that was clutching the phone, and it fell out of my grip and landed in a lump of snow with a thud.

  Oops. My fingers dove into the cold, soft matter, causing the skin at the tips to burn, telling me they were tired of being out here.

  After I scooped up the phone, I shoved it back against my ear, some of the snow dripping off the bottom and hitting my shoe.

  “You still there?” I asked.

  “You dropped the phone again.”

  I shrugged. “I was excited.”

  “They want a meeting first thing Monday morning. You gotta bring your A-game. If you land this song, a whole bunch of doors are going to open wide for you.”