Songbird

by Victoria Escobar

  “I will. Once I know everything is good and I don’t have to run back for anything. Did you want something specific? I can go get something else. I’m sorry, we were only guessing at your meal, I should have asked but you seemed put off so I thought—”

  “You’re babbling, Songbird.” Nicholas tossed the empty ice cream cup and picked up a second one.

  “You’re going to get sick if you eat all those without eating a meal first,” I chided lightly. Grabbing his plate from the table I held it out.

  “You going to feed me too?” He lifted a brow.

  I didn’t sigh, but it was a close call. Why was he so much like my brother, Benjamin? I picked up the fork, dipped into the loaded potato and held it out. “Do you want the airplane noise too?”

  “Do you make good airplane noises?”

  I sighed. “Yes or no, Walker.”

  He studied me. “You’d do it. If I asked.”

  “Walker.”

  “No.” He leaned forward and took the potatoes off the fork. He chewed and swallowed. “These don’t taste like fast food.”

  I held out another forkful. “As long as it’s good what’s it matter?”

  “Touché.” He took the plate and began to feed himself.

  Score. Me—one. Nicholas—zero. I reached around him and picked up the ice cream.

  “What are you doing with that?” he asked and reached for the tray. I pulled it out of arm’s length.

  “Putting it in the freezer so it doesn’t melt before you can eat it,” I replied and nudged him to step to the side with my hip so I could get into the under counter fridge.

  “Oh.” He stepped aside and watched as I safely put his ice cream away.

  With that accomplished I studied the near empty plates one the table. “You guys ready for coffee?”

  I received a chorus of yes, and please.

  “You haven’t eaten yet.” Nicholas stated. “Your food is going to get cold.”

  “Perks of the job.” The kitchenette was not big enough for me to work around him. “Sit down and eat so I can make this coffee.”

  “I’d like a cup too. Please,” he mumbled around a mouthful of food. “And thanks for the food and ice cream.”

  “Sure. Sit.”

  Score. Me—two. Nicholas—zero.

  He moved to the booth and sat next to Arc. I could feel his eyes follow me around the tiny space and did my best to ignore it. His stare hadn’t bothered me before. Much.

  “You’re still not eating,” Nicholas commented after being served coffee and eating another Blizzard.

  “I will.” Probably. When I had time. Hunger and I were friends and I wasn’t bothered with the sensation. Thank you, teen years.

  “Sit. Eat.” Nicholas stood, grabbed my arm and yanked me down into the booth. “Do you need me to feed you?”

  “No. I can eat. I just need to check on Charlie and Doug. They’re supposed to be switching off and we should be moving in a few more minutes.” I tried to pull away and Nicholas held onto my arm and shifted us so I was sitting in between his legs. He pulled my plate across the table.

  “Eat. The almighty schedule will survive if you take a few minutes and eat.”

  Self-control wasn’t seriously high on my list of virtues. When his breath tickled my ear, I needed every drop I had to keep my body still. I would not shudder. I would not react. I would not melt into a puddle of hormones and demand a private meal of something else entirely.

  “He’s not going to let you up until you eat.” Max pushed a bottle of water across the tabletop. “Might as well humor him.”

  “Fine.” With move violence than the act warranted, I speared my salad and munched. Trying to eat without taking my eye off the clock was pointless, as it was determined to mock me. We had ten minutes to get back on the road and neither Doug nor Charlie had reappeared.

  “What are you eating?” Nicholas leaned over my shoulder. “Looks like rabbit food.”

  “Salad generally gets that reaction from people,” I replied and filled my mouth before I could whimper from the hard press of his chest against my back.

  “Why are you eating salad?” He sounded genuinely confused.

  I swallowed before answering, “Because it’s healthy?”

  “So is meat.”

  “Look.” I held up the fork’s newest victim. “It’s chicken.”

  “Barely. Why not a burger?”

  “Jesus, Nick.” Guy kicked at him and narrowly avoided my leg. “Let her eat. You can play twenty questions when she’s done. Your biggest bitch of the evening was her not eating, but she can’t do that if she’s answering all your damn questions.”

  “It’s okay.” I pushed the salad away. “I’m kind of full anyway.” Not really. I hated salad but ate it because I knew in a town like Nashville I was already considered fat. No point in getting fatter.

  “You only ate like three bites.” Nicholas moved a hand to my waist when I tried to stand. “That’s not enough.”

  “I’m full. Tiny stomach.” I pulled—attempted to pull—out of his grasp. “Walker, really.”

  “Do you have an eating disorder?”

  “What?” I had to turn and look to see if he was for real. The turn, of course brought us way too close in the confined space and I could see the amber halo in his eyes clearly. I pretended not to notice his eyes briefly dip to my mouth before coming back to lock on mine.

  “Are you anorexic?” His grip was firm when I once again lost the tug to be free.

  “No, of course not.” I didn’t have a disorder. Exactly. I was comfortable on half full.

  “Then eat the rest of your food.” Nicholas’s hand tightened. “Or you don’t get up from the table.”

  “My God. You’re making a big deal out of nothing. Let me up.” I struggled but he was bigger and most definitely stronger.

  “You know.” Arc caught both our attentions. “I don’t remember seeing you eat breakfast.”

  I froze. Had I eaten breakfast? I had to think about it. I had a muffin in my kitchen before leaving the house.

  “Stilts didn’t grab any snacks on the gas break.” Max reclined in his seat. “I remember since I went in with her. She didn’t pick up anything for herself.”

  “She didn’t order herself lunch, either.” Guy shrugged when I glared at him. “I went in with her that time.”

  “So you do have a disorder.” Nicholas stated. Was that annoyance in his tone?

  “No. I don’t. When I’m busy, I forget to eat. That’s all. I don’t intentionally skip meals and I don’t throw up my food.” I put a hand against his chest and pushed. Nothing happened and he smirked.

  “You have not eaten two meals today and you’ve only partially eaten the third.” Nicholas shifted so he held me tighter and pulled my salad back across the table in front of us. “Eat. Or I will make airplane noises for you.”

  I sighed and picked up my fork.

  Score. Me—two. Nicholas—one. Dammit.

  Rain fell in a nasty, cold drizzle as we drove into Seattle. The clouds blocked the setting sun and did nothing for the cabin fever of my bus mates. I couldn’t fault them for wanting to get off the bus and into hotel rooms.

  I wanted a quiet room where I wouldn’t accidentally see more body parts than was polite and a comfortable bed that I may actually be able to sleep in without waking in cold sweat at three am. In such tight quarters, with six men changing clothes and going to the loo, I’d seen more naked chests, legs, and asses in the past two days than I cared to. Nicholas seemed to be the most modest of them but I had gotten that eye full in Nashville. And while I promised myself I wouldn’t judge, secretly, Nicholas had the best body—with Arc in a close second.

  “We should go out, get some drinks.” Nicholas stretched his legs out and made a show of his restlessness.

  “We should not. We should go to bed, because someone has a radio show at seven in the morning.” I ignored his legs and stepped over them to check on the overnight bags for t
he hotel suites.

  He sighed. “Seven? Whose idea was that?”

  I grimaced. “Ezra’s. He’d already made the schedule when he hired me. We’re both stuck, pal.”

  “I need a drink and a few hours to unwind.” Nicholas crossed his arms and put on a really good pout. “Would be nice to get to know the opening band. They’re really dolls you know?”

  “You can order drinks from your room. It’ll be comped on the bill. The opening band has set up strict clauses in their contract to tour with you. Unwind how?” I asked and when he gave me a quick grin and eye roll I sighed. “Blonde, brunette or redhead?”

  He stared. “What?”

  “I’m asking you if you’d like me to find you a companion to end your evening with.” I held my face completely benign. If I didn’t find something or someone to entertain him he was bound to get into trouble and likely find the opening band to commit that trouble with. Not something I wanted. This was the lesser of two evils. “Well. Yes or no?”

  He lifted a brow in challenge. “Blonde. Taller than you, and stacked.”

  I kept my disgusted snort internal. “Age?”

  “Legal.”

  “Fan or has no idea who you are?” I was deliberate in the careful notes on my phone.

  “Whatever you can find.”

  I nodded with a smile. “Let me get you into your room. Promise me you’ll stay there and I’ll bring a…” I trailed off, my lips twisting with sarcasm. “Companion by.”

  His grin was a smirk. “You won’t do it. You have too much class.”

  I leveled a bland stare at him. “Wait and see.” If there was one thing I never backed down from was a dare. Spoken or otherwise implied.

  I wasn’t sure if he was testing me or not, but I was going to deliver.

  The bus pulled up and a man that could be mistaken for beach bum, stepped up to the door. As I walked out carrying my bag, he immediately started tossing out information, and I recognized his voice from the phone call yesterday. This had to be Obi. He hustled us into the lobby handing over all the paperwork as well as the room keys. Obi seemed like a nice enough guy—for a whirlwind, I mean.

  Once I got the room keys from Obi and the band into their rooms, I stood in the hall contemplating the easiest and fastest way simply to find a groupie.

  “Ma’am?”

  I turned to the very large black man in a suit. I blinked once, because physics stated he shouldn’t be able to move as quietly as he did.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m Henry. Head of security.”

  I shook his hand and considered. “Henry, I need someone posted here to make sure Nicholas stays in his room.”

  His grin was quick and mischievous. “Been told about that, huh?”

  “Do you know where I can find a car? I need to run out to the venue. Have the fans started lining up yet?”

  “I’ve got my car,” Henry pulled out a phone and started texting. “I can drive you over to the venue. And yeah, the fans are lined up down the block already.”

  “Perfect. I want to check in with Jimmy and then I have an order to fill for Nicholas.”

  Nicholas would understand that the music came first. He had said so himself on the bus only hours before. His dick could wait a few minutes longer. Besides, Jimmy had the bribe items I needed.

  The ride was short and I used the time to modify a couple of contracts to cover Nicholas’s ass if something should happen. When I saw the line of people, I was both impressed and surprised. “You weren’t kidding.”

  “Won’t always be such a big draw.” Henry eyed the crowd as if he expected them to attack at any moment. “But this one isn’t bad.”

  “Theater isn’t sold out yet.” I didn’t look up from the papers Obi had handed me. “I have the numbers.”

  “Probably won’t be. Nicholas is country after all.”

  “Country music is countrywide.” I smiled.

  Jimmy’s eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched when I stepped in to review the stage set up. He crossed his arms and then uncrossed them and purposefully turned away from me to shout at someone else. Well, that was clear, and wouldn’t be tolerated.

  “Jimmy.” I didn’t shout or raise my voice. I wasn’t going to stoop to that level. We were all adults. I studied the stage coming together. “How’s it coming?”

  “Had to wait for the last concert to finish so we could set up,” Jimmy grimaced, “Some rap shit. We’re a little behind, but it’s not going to effect the stage schedule.”

  “Good.” I waited but he didn’t turn and look at me. The sigh that wanted to escape was swallowed. “Where’s the VIP stuff?”

  “The box of VIP stuff for Seattle is still on the bus. I’ll turn it in to Will Call tomorrow morning. Don’t know why it couldn’t have been shipped.”

  I ignored the complaint. The box traveled with us because Nicholas, once again, had missed his deadline to have everything signed on time. “Any Extras?”

  “Twenty per Ezra’s numbers.”

  “Good. I need one. I’ll go out and get it. You’re doing a good job.”

  “Always do.”

  I didn’t verbally respond, only nodded and continued through the space. I stopped in the dressing room to check and make sure stage clothes were hung and clean as I moved. Everything looked in order and the old spinet in a corner caught my eye.

  My hands itched to run quick scales over it to see if it sang true, but as far as I was aware Nicholas and the guys didn’t play. There was no reason for me to touch it. A longing I hadn’t felt since I stopped playing rose and was crushed just as swiftly. I didn’t play anymore, I reminded myself. I didn’t want to play anymore.

  The lie was sour but I swallowed it. I needed to believe it. Believing it kept me from false hopes.

  I left the room and walked to the equipment entrance where there was still stuff being pulled off the truck. Narrowly avoiding someone carrying what looked like heavy ass lighting, I managed to get out of the way without accident and out to Roadster where it was parked.

  The contents of the VIP bags varied between Gold VIP and Fan Club VIP. Fan Club got an entry to watch sound check and autographed merchandize including a tee shirt specific to the city and the unreleased single specifically recorded for this Tour. Fan Club VIP cost a pretty penny and there weren’t many at any of the concerts. Thank God.

  I was looking for a Gold bag. They got Skip the Line passes with an early entrance to the concert stage. There was only an autographed poster and nifty wrist band but it was the best deal if the price of Fan Club was too steep.

  “Well.” I smiled at Henry as he held an umbrella over my head when I returned to him in front. “Let’s get this over with.”

  I walked down the line slowly. With the dreariness of the weather, the sharp golds and silvers of blonde hair stood out easily. I ignored the curious eyes. They apparently knew I was someone important though Henry holding the umbrella over my head was probably a good tip in to my importance.

  There were more brunettes than blondes, which was a pity, because several of them met the standard but for hair color. I stopped—almost completely done with this block—at the blonde holding an umbrella three times her size and crouching close to the ground with a backpack on. I couldn’t tell height, but she was worth pursuing considering her shirt barely restrained her girls.

  “Hi.” I waited for her to stand. She was definitely taller than me and she was wearing modest heels.

  “Hi.”

  “I’m the Tour Director for Nicholas Walker. Are you a fan?” I watched her eyes go wide.

  “I’m the biggest fan.” She spoke with her hands and I stepped back from a flying appendage. “I even have a tattoo of his lyrics.” She tapped her hip.

  Well, Nicholas hadn’t specified about ink. He was going to get what I collected. And he better be damn grateful for it.

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty two.”

  “Single?”

  The girl roll
ed her eyes. “I don’t want that kind of drama.”

  “Well I think today’s your lucky day then. Come with me.”

  She chewed on a thumbnail. “I’ve been waiting in line for almost two days.”

  General admission ticket, probably. With any of the upgrades or VIP tickets she’d have guaranteed seating. This may work out better than I originally planned.

  “You don’t think I’ll make it worth stepping out?” I cocked my head. “I can guarantee I am, but I won’t discuss it on the street.”

  “If she doesn’t want whatever you’re offering I’ll take it,” a redhead jumped up.

  “Sorry, you don’t meet today’s requirements.” I sent her a sad smile. “I have very specific instructions for this surprise prize.”

  “Oh.” The blonde stepped forward. “I’ll go with you.”

  “Good.” I turned and walked back up the block to the front of the theater where Henry had parked.

  I gestured her into the SUV ahead of me and after Henry took her umbrella slid beside her. “So, the terms of this contest.” I pulled out my phone.

  “A moment please, Henry.” I told him when he slid into the driver’s seat.

  I wanted the privacy of the SUV. I didn’t need hundreds of crazed fans hearing what I was about to propose. Just this one was risky enough. My words would need to be chosen with extreme care.

  “Just let me know when, ma’am.”

  “So, Mr. Walker asked me to pick a fan to spend the evening with him, privately in his suite.”

  The girl squealed so loud my eardrums bled. Or at least I thought they did.

  “This also comes with a VIP Gold upgrade to your general admission ticket as a thank you for spending time with him.”

  “Are you kidding? This is a dream come true.”

  “There are…stipulations.” I sent her my sternest mom face. “You’ll need to sign some contracts. One is a non-disclosure. It means that anything that happens with Mr. Walker cannot be discussed outside of the hotel suite. You can’t tell anyone what you talked about, what he said, or how he acted.” I held out the phone and she took the stylus and signed without questioning it. The second contract I modified was a little trickier to explain.