Caught on the Jumbotron
highlight_author
Galatea
highlight_reads
261K
highlight_chapters
12
When Ellie discovers her husbandâtech CEO Derek Brightonâlocked in a scandalous embrace with his head of HR live on the Jumbotron at a Goldray concert, her world implodes. Heartbroken, Ellie walks away from the betrayalâand straight into the spotlight. Enter Leo Voss, the undeniably sexy, tattooed lead singer of Goldray.
What starts as a backstage encounter turns into a whirlwind romance. Heâs a leather-clad rock god. Sheâs his new muse. Together theyâre unstoppable. But as Ellie rediscovers her voice, the media frenzy surrounding her reaches a fever pitch. Then Leoâs ex-wife re-appears, and Ellie must risk another public heartbreak. The last thing she needs is to make her life messier. Will she choose a love that doesnât play by the rules?
Trouble
Some women get mad. Some get even. She got a rockstar
ELLIE
Official statement from Eleanor Brighton, wife of CEO Derek Brighton:
It has come to my attentionâand the attention of the entire internetâthat my husband, Derek Brighton, made his affair public at the Goldray concert. On the jumbotron. Let me be perfectly clear. I donât cry for clowns. I will not be forgiving him. I will not offer grace. I will, however, rebuild. Do not pity me, pity him. While he is spiraling, Iâm ascending.
Iâm taking what is mine. Just wait until you see me rise.
48-hours-earlierâŠ
Where the hell is Derek? He promised me weâd have lunch together today. To be honest, lunch isnât the correct term.
Ever since Derek started NFNLYF, his AI company designed to extend human life, he only drinks pureed vegetables and calls it âsecond meal.â
I walk down the marble hallway, peeking into conference rooms with sleek floor-to-ceiling windows. The Silicon Valley NFNLYF office is too austere for my taste, but Derek doesnât care for my opinion.
Across the hall, I spot Derekâs assistant, Jenny. Sheâs young, smart, and eager to please. I smile as I approach.
âHey, Jenny! Have you seen Derek?â
Jennyâs eyebrows shoot toward her hairline. âEleanor! Um, hello. Is Derek expecting you?â
My stomach sinks. âHe should be. Weâre on for lunch?â
Jenny holds up a long, slender finger with a perfectly manicured nail. âOne moment. Let me check his schedule.â
With the amount of professional success Derek has already achieved, I hoped heâd stop working such long hours and start spending more time with me. Weâre young empty nesters.
I set aside my own career aspirations to raise our kids while Derek went after his dreams. Now his startup is worth billions.
Weâre supposed to reconnect, to have date nights, and travel abroad and share adventures. Or at the very least, have lunch together.
Weâre only forty-fiveâweâre not dead.
But thatâs part of the problem. Derek wants to avoid death by âbio-hackingâ his body, which means no more booze, pizza, television, or sex.
Twenty years ago, we had a great sex life. But somewhere between the supplements and the âdopamine fasting,â I lost the man I loved.
âHeâs in his cryotherapy session,â Jenny responds. âIf youâd like to wait, heâll just be a few moreââ
I ignore her and begin descending the marble staircase to the dark room that houses the cryotherapy chamber Derek had installed.
Iâm tired of waiting for him. Iâm his wife. He can talk to me now.
The machine is whirring like a jet engine as I approach. Taking a deep breath, I open the door to the chamber, then scream as a blast of liquid nitrogen hits me.
âFuck, thatâs cold!â
Derek is standing there, naked, his skin glowing. Itâs unnaturally smooth, like a piece of shiny rubber. He glares at me.
âDamn it, Ellie! Iâll never beat Bryan Johnson in the Rejuvenation Olympics if you disrupt my algorithm like this!â
I refrain from rolling my eyes. âCan you come out, please? Itâs freezing!â
âNo. Youâve interrupted vasoconstriction. Iâll have to start over again.â
My shoulders slump. Iâve begun daydreaming again. Not about other men, but about Derek, the way he used to be, before he cared about any of this crap.
The irony is that he looks goodâchiseled as hellâbut he wonât let me touch him. Iâd take a dad-bod over this clinically detached version of my husband any day.
âAre we still on for lunch? I meanâŠumâŠsecond meal?â
Iâm shivering now, even though Iâm fully dressed. Arctic air is blasting me in the face, liquid nitrogen pooling in a cloud at my feet.
âSorry,â Derek says casually. âJenny mustâve double-booked me. I have a meeting with my head of HR, Candi.â
Derek always puts work first. Candi started less than a year ago. Sheâs my age, but has Botoxed her face and Juvedermed her lips into a state of dewy plumpness.
I guess toxins donât matter when theyâre turning back the clock.
âYou canât reschedule it?â
âIâm afraid not.â
I sigh. âOkay. How about dinner together then? We can order takeout and watch Succession.â
Derek steps out of the cryotherapy machine, toweling himself off.
âI will not give myself âdigital dementiaâ and I certainly wonât be eating anything with polyunsaturated fats. But no, I canât. Iâm taking the team to see Goldray tonight, at the SAP Center.â
I feel a pang of jealousy. âGoldray? Can I come?â
I lied when I said I donât daydream about other men. Thereâs only one man I do daydream aboutâLeo Vossâthe lead singer of Goldray.
Something about his British accent coupled with his tattooed, rugged good looks makes him irresistible. And anyway, celebrity crushes donât count.
âNo,â Derek says firmly, throwing down his towel. âNFNLYF team members only.â
He stands there, fully nude, glaring at me.
âFine,â I say. âIâll order takeout for myself.â
âHydrogenated oils will kill you!â Derek calls after me as I turn and walk away.
Outside the building, Iâm about to get into my car when Jenny runs through the double doors, her key card swinging from her neck.
âEleanor! Wait!â
For a minute, I panic, wondering if sheâs going to lecture me about the dangers of blue light and âdigital dementiaâ on Derekâs behalf.
I pause, car keys in hand. âIs everything okay?â
âYep!â she says, out of breath. Then she blinks rapidly and clears her throat. Iâve never seen her so nervous before.
âYou sure?â
âIâum,â Jenny pauses to cough. âIâm coming down with a cold. And I canât join the team to see Goldray tonight. I was hoping youâd take my ticket.â
âReally?â A smile spreads across my face. âIâm sorry youâre feeling under the weather. Honestly, Iâd love to. But Derek said itâs a team-bonding thing. He doesnât want me to come.â
She laughs, high-pitched and staccato. âNo! You should absolutely come. HeâŠchanged his mind. Just meet Derek and the team at the SAP Center. Iâll take care of everything else. Have fun.â
Jenny presses a Goldray ticket into my hands, then turns around and gives me a little wave before jogging back toward the building.
Huh. That was weird.
But I donât have time to overthink things. I havenât seen Goldray in concert since their last album came out, three years ago.
Rumor is, this one isnât as good, but who cares?
A shiver of excitement runs through me at the thought of ogling Leo Voss while listening to his gorgeous voice. And maybe, just maybe, Derek will allow himself to be human for the night, and we can sway together under the stadium lights, remembering who we used to be.
***
The stadium is packed, and I double-check the seat number on my ticket. Weirdly, itâs up in the nosebleeds, even though Derek can afford VIP seating for the team.
Iâm late, and haunting strains of a familiar melody reach my ears. Cheers rise from the crowd.
Leo Voss is beginning to play one of my favorite songs, Midnight Requiem. I glance at the huge TV screen, smiling as I drink him inâfull lips, piercing green eyes, perfectly disheveled hair, tattoo sleeves, and an aura that screams âsex appeal.â
I havenât had sex in over a year, ever since âsemen retentionâ became an essential part of Derekâs biohacking rituals.
I pass the concession stand, and the popcorn smells like buttery heaven. Derek wonât share it with me, but maybe Candi will?
She may look like a Barbie, but she seems nice. I go ahead and order a large popcorn.
Then, in a moment of rebellion, I order a beer. A cold Corona will taste delicious.
Iâm weaving through the crowd, making my way upwards toward plaza seating when Leo Voss begins to speak.
âI know youâre tired of looking at me, so weâre going to put some of you up on the big screen.â
Briefly, I glance up at the jumbotron and see a family waving at the camera.
Leo laughs.
âOh, precious. Look at thisâmum, dad, and a little baby. Sheâs wearing pink headphones! Is she old enough to be here? Ah, fuck itâstart âem young. Oh, fuck, I shouldnât be cursing. Moving along.â
Nostalgia tugs at my heartstrings. I remember those busy days, when my kids were little.
Now Iâm lucky if they call home once a week.
Focusing on the stairs ahead of me, I make an effort not to spill my beer or my popcorn. Leo continues talking.
âShout out to the group of young lads over there! Thanks for coming, mates. Oh, okay, theyâreâŠare they twerking now? Iâm actually not sure if you lot are at the right concert. Sabrina Carpenter is down the street.â
Iâm slightly dizzy as I reach the top of the stadium. Not winded; with a spouse like Derek, I also keep fit, just not in an obsessive way.
I look around for row C, find it, and apologize as I squeeze past concertgoers toward seat two hundred nineteen.
âAlright,â Leo says in his charming accent. âWho else have we got? Ah, nice, this middle-aged couple right here. You, in the shirt with the infinity symbol on it. And you, the blonde with the bracelets.â
The words âinfinity symbolâ catch my ear. Thatâs Derekâs company logo.
I look up and my heart plummets as I see Derek on the jumbotron, embracing Candi lovingly from behind. Her hands are on top of his, their fingers intertwined.
Candi gasps, covering her face, and turns her back to the camera.
Derek blinks a few times, as if he canât believe whatâs going on, and then he tries to duck out of view, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Except heâs been caught with his hands groping Candiâs big silicone boobs.
I look from the jumbotron to the horror playing out in front of me. I think I might be sick.
âOh, do you not want to be on camera?â Leo says. âEither theyâre just very shy, or theyâre having an affair.â
The sounds of the stadium fade away as I approach the two of them. My husband and his HR director, pretending the whole stadium didnât just see him wrapped around her like a boa constrictor.
Iâm shaking with rage. Iâm speechless.
Derek is still crouching on the ground. I look at his flushed cheeks, his sweaty brow, and then at Candi, whose mouth falls open when she sees me.
Derek looks at me like a deer caught in the headlights. He holds up his hands.
âHoney, I can explain.â
âWait, whoâs this?â Leo says. âBrunette wearing leather pants, and a Goldray T-shirt, looking very beautiful I might add. Oh shit. Is she his wife?â
The jumbotronâs still filming us. Across the stadium, I make eye contact with Leo. In this bizarre, awful moment, I feel like heâs here to support me.
Yes, I am his wife, for exactly five more secondsâŠI want to say. Then I look down at the beer in my hands.
I pull my shoulder back, lifting the plastic cup high above my head. I look directly at Derek.
âYou. Asshole.â
And then I hurl the cup forward, sending beer flying at his face.
