World on Edge: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller (World on Edge Book 1) by Chris Pike (top ten ebook reader TXT) 📗

“We got paid, regardless.”

“Dad! I need work. And if I get a bad reputation, I’ll never sing anywhere ever again.” She had her arms folded across her chest, angry at the whole situation.

“Lexi, you’ve got talent you’re wasting on these types of places. And no way were we staying to watch a bunch of no-good drunks duke it out. Next week we’ll head to Nashville where you can meet the right people.”

“Alright,” Lexi capitulated. “I didn’t know you knew anybody in Nashville.”

“I don’t. Give me time and I will.”

Lexi and her dad rode in silence, the dark night and the whine of the tires lulling her to sleep. She closed her eyes, remembering the man she had locked eyes with for a brief few moments.

This song is for you she had said.

She had meant it.

It was for him.

Chapter 2

Three Years Later

Houston, Texas

“I’m so nervous,” Lexi Carter said, patting her glistening palms on her pants. She dabbed her hands with a tissue.

She had spent two hours in an oversized black padded chair in a dressing room at NRG Stadium, home of the Houston Texans National Football League team, while two make-up artists, three hairstylists, a manicurist, and one wardrobe woman fretted over her. When Lexi reached up to move a strand of hair out of her face, a stylist swooped in to do it for her.

“Don’t touch your hair, remember?” the makeup artist reminded her.

Looking her best was a requirement for the break-out country female artist of the year to sing the National Anthem at the Super Bowl. At twenty-eight, she had made the entrance into the world of country music later than others who had practically grown up in the spotlight. The glitter and glamor of the industry was overwhelming for the girl who was more comfortable in old jeans, scuffed boots, and a cowboy hat, who had grown up working alongside her daddy shoveling cow manure and tossing hay bales at their country home.

“It’ll be okay,” Lexi’s mother, Wanda, assured her. “You’re gonna stand straight and be proud of who you are when you go out there. You show ‘em what kind of stock you’re made from. We’re country tough and country proud. Always remember that.”

“I wish Dad was here to see me.”

“Don’t fret, sweetie. He’s looking down on you from Heaven, and I’ll be watching you from the sidelines. After you’re finished, we’ll go up to one of those fancy boxes reserved for rich people and celebrities. You won’t believe who I heard would be—”

“They’re all so boring.” Lexi rolled her eyes, the movement exaggerated by the enormously long fake eyelashes she was required to wear. “All they talk about is money, and who got what part. Blah, blah. I’d rather have a root canal.”

“Speaking of root canals,” Wanda said, “have you seen a dentist for the tooth bothering you? It won’t affect your singing, will it?”

Lexi moved her tongue over the sensitive molar. “I haven’t had time.” She placed her index finger on her cheek, gently massaging the area, then quickly put her hand in her lap when the make-up artist rushed over to powder her face. Lexi had been told numerous times not to touch her face after the makeup had been applied. She couldn’t help herself because she dealt with nervousness by fidgeting.

“Better make an appointment. Toothaches are notorious for starting on the weekends. In fact,” Wanda said, taking her cell phone out of her pocket to write a reminder in the notes section, “I’ll make a few calls to make an appointment for you.”

“Thanks, Mom. You don’t need to stay. Go on up to the luxury seat. I know how much you like hors d’oeuvres.

“They won’t know who I am.”

“Tell them you’re my mom. If they don’t believe you, give them my cell number.”

Wanda pondered her daughter’s suggestion, conjuring up images of those scrumptious bacon-wrapped stuffed jalapenos, making her mouth water. “You’re right. I’d better head up to the nosebleed section before the delicious morsels are all gone. Good luck sweetie. And remember, don’t touch your face, especially your nose. My goodness, did I tell you about the time when the cameras zoomed in for a close-up shot of a quarterback who blew his nose using the ‘farmer’s blow’ method? You know what I mean when someone blows their nose by plugging one nostril and blowing forcefully out of the other one. Once the cameraman saw what the guy was doing, he panned to another shot. So gross.” Wanda shuddered. “And don’t pull at your shirt or fidget. A million eyes will be on you.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Lexi said, lacking mirth. “Like I needed a reminder practically the entire U.S. will be watching me.”

“Think what it’ll do for your record sales.” Wanda’s eyes grew wide at the thought.

“Mom!” Lexi huffed.

“Stand up straight, too. Nobody wants to see a slouch singing the National Anthem.”

Lexi shook her head. “Love you, Mom.”

“Love you too, sweetie,” Wanda said, opening the dressing room door.

Lexi critiqued herself in the floor to ceiling mirror, turned to the side, then straightened her back. Her mom was right she mused. Moms usually were.

“Mom?” Lexi called out.

Wanda paused at the door. “What is it?”

“You’re the best mom a daughter could have.”

Wanda smiled, cocking her head. She walked over to Lexi and gave her a big hug. “Kill it out there, okay?”

“I will, Mom.”

“Later, my little gator.”

~ ~ ~

“Has someone checked her mic to see if it’s even turned on? Lexi goes live in ten minutes before a TV audience of millions of viewers. Not to mention the seventy-two plus thousand people in the stands. All of us will be fired if something goes wrong.”

Cullen Pickers, lead engineer