by Tina Saxon
“In this business, you can never be too sure.” I sense his disappointment as he calls a guy from my security team to come in. Whoever this asshole is, they are not ruining my night. Or my career.
“Don’t say anything to Jude,” I beg, squeezing his arm while we wait for security to come in.
“Sky—”
“G, please. Just tell my security guys to check things delivered to me. Jude will regret bringing me on, if he doesn’t already. I don’t want some flowers to ruin my career.” He eyes me, twisting his lips. “I’m low man on the totem pole and you’re right there with me.”
“Don’t do that,” he sneers, pointing his skinny finger at me. “Your safety is more important to me than any career and I’m a little offended that you would think otherwise.”
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, walking back and forth in front of him. Why is this happening to me? I’m a good person. I treat people like I want to be treated so why does karma have a bullseye with my face on it? And why does it seem to want to destroy my music career?
After Graham informs my security team, they form a plan to not have deliveries sent to my room anymore. Security will intercept the delivery before I ever receive it. The rest of the conversation, I ignore, sticking earbuds in my ears, plopping on the couch, and clearing my head as the music drowns any fears that might cause me to have a horrible concert. I’ve got plenty of time to think about this after the concert.
Chapter Fourteen
Max
Slamming the phone down, I wonder if I’ll ever get over this feeling of needing to rescue her. For such a small person, the grip she has on me is iron-clad. She has a security team, one employed by me and Knox just checked in with news I didn’t expect.
Sydney has a stalker.
I remind myself, she’s not my job.
She’s not anything. She made that perfectly clear.
The lie sours in my mouth. Why can’t I hate her? I’ve never wanted a woman who has told me no, yet this time, it’s only made the want that much more intense. By keeping tabs on her, I’m doing this to myself. Self-deprecation at its finest.
“Hey Max,” I hear, followed by a knock on the door. Kase, the new guy on my team, leans in the doorway to my office. I motion for him to enter. An interruption is exactly what I need.
“Have a seat.” He sits down and wipes his hands down his pants. Fuck, he looks uncomfortable. I hope he doesn’t plan on quitting already. I like him. His resume is like Bill Gates in the security world. A SEAL Sniper. When I found out he was getting out of the military, I offered him a position before another team got to him. Good thing for me, he wanted to work with me as well.
He tells me about him and Ell, the girl he’s dating and how he used some of my resources to find out information on her. Come to find out her real name isn’t Ellie. Listening to his story how they were highschool sweethearts about to get married until she was in a car accident and lost all her memories makes me feel sorry for the guy. At least Sydney remembers me.
“Why did she change her name?”
He shakes his head and sighs. “I’m not sure. I haven’t seen her in ten years. She doesn’t have her old memories. It’s possible she wanted a clean slate.”
What is with women running from their past, changing their fucking names? “Sounds like someone else,” I grumble, running my hands through my hair, frustrated that I’m back to thinking of Sydney.
I pointedly stare at him when he asks, “Does this have to do with the woman in California?”
He doesn’t shrink back, rather he stays in a relaxed posture. I sit up taller and square my shoulders, proud and irritated at the same time. “She’s not up for discussion.”
He nods slowly and I blow out my irritation when he doesn’t continue his questions. I get enough of that shit from Stone. Although, my relief doesn’t last long. After telling him I’m okay with him dating someone as long as he does his job, he shoots back with, “Well, if that isn’t the pot calling the kettle.”
Damn, this boy has a death wish. All I can do is chuckle at his audacity. I think I need to remind him who his fucking boss is. If I want him to scream my name when he has sex, he better make sure the whole fucking neighborhood hears.
“Max, I shoot straight, and you respect that. That’s why you hired me. I have an idea why you went to California. One look at you when someone mentions her name, it’s obvious how you feel about her.”
I tent my fingers, deciding the best way for him to die. I despise that he can read me like that. Even more so that Sydney makes me act this way. Kase is right, I respect that he tells me how it is, but when it’s at my expense, it fucking stings.
Maybe I can rig his parachute.
“I didn’t hire you for your humbleness.” I laugh, standing and grab the car keys out of my desk. “Feel like jumping out of a plane?”
He stands at attention. “Fuck yeah.”
As soon as the car engine roars to life, and he slides into the passenger seat, he glances over, smiling wide. “I don’t know who packs your parachutes, but I’ll be repacking my own.”
I nod and laugh out loud, backing out of the drive, expecting nothing less from him. Trust no one.
“When are you leaving?” Stone asks, sarcastically.
“When am I firing you?” I drop my pencil and cock my brow.
The guys chuckle around the table and I turn my glare toward them. We’re in our weekly team meeting and I just got done telling them Knox’s report on Sydney. Stone’s question hits home because I’ve picked up the phone at least ten times to call my pilot to get the plane ready. It’s the knot in my stomach — that Sydney put there when she walked out of the hotel — that tightens, reminding me why I can’t. “Sydney has a security team, we’re not it. I’m staying. But, since I probably have a slightly better computer hacker than they do, Stone, I need you to dig into Sydney’s phone records and find where the calls are coming from. Also, the security footage of who is delivering the flowers.”
“Slightly?” He snorts, his ego taking a hit, right where I intended. “Maybe I’ll take my slightly better skills to someone who appreciates them.” He’s only saying it cause he’s butt-hurt. He knows how much he means to this team and me. He’s irreplaceable.
“I could give you a recommendation,” Hudson jests.
Everyone laughs again, except Stone. “Fuck all of you. You guys wouldn’t know what to do without me.” He crosses his arms, scowling.
“He’s right, guys. I definitely wouldn’t have someone to test my new paint gun on,” Kase says, adding fuel to the fire. Stone’s face turns red and I’m fairly certain he’s about to pop. Sure enough, Stone shoots up out of his chair, pointing at Kase.
“You fucking cheat. You’re a damn sniper. No one has a chance to shoot you when you get all high in your hidey spot on roofs.”
I chuckle. “I did.” Our team building day was a game of paintball. I was proud of myself that I took out Kase. Stone glares at me. “Okay, guys, let’s get back to business.” Stone remains standing, still pissed. “Stone, sit. You know you’re a crucial part of the team.”
He swings his pointer finger around the table. “Crucial,” he says, slowly sitting. Thankfully, the guys let him have his say without egging him on anymore. “Get me her phone numbers and I’ll start looking into it.”
And just like that, we’re back on track.
I love my fucking team.
Chapter Fifteen
Sydney
Kill them with your voice. ~G
I pluck the sticky note from Graham off the box of chocolates. Smiling, I open it and gaze at the wonderful pieces of chocolate heaven, the scent alone takes me to a happy place. He knows me so well. But damn him for knowing I can’t eat one until I’m done singing. I press the lid back on and give myself a once over in the mirror before leaving the dressing room.
The energy of the crowd is electric, one of the largest I’ll have sung in front of. People talk to me as I stroll toward the
stage, but I’m in my head, searching for the one thing that will calm my nerves. This doesn’t get any easier. New crowd, new critics, new fans. Each concert is its own being. Has its own heart. It’s up to me to pump it to life and bring it to its feet. I’m the opening act.
And I’m ready to shock this heart into overdrive.
“Chicago, how y’all doing tonight?”
The cheers reverberate all around me, driving the rush to keep going. The songs create an orchestrated atmosphere, the ups and downs of the melodies create a whirlwind of exhilaration.
Words come out of my mouth, however it’s the crowd singing back to me I hear. My heart races, my voice chokes from the intense awe. They know my words. Holding my hands over my heart, a couple tears escape down my cheek before I can regain my voice to keep singing.
The halls fill with congratulatory words as I walk back to the dressing room. Sweat beads on my forehead and I blot it with the towel handed to me as I exit the stage and gulp down a bottle of water. Another successful night. The dressing room is lit bright yet quiet when I shut the door behind me. When I sit on the director’s chair in front of my mirror, it creaks as I get comfortable.
“You did good, Sydney,” I whisper to my reflection.
A few cleansing breaths help calm my hyperactive nerves. My reality is this moment. Tomorrow, I’ll feel like an imposter. It tends to happen when I read the one reviewer who didn’t like me. Everyone tells me to ignore it, that it’s part of the business when you’re in the public eye. But it’s easier said than done.
Which is why I’m having a pep talk. If I’ve learned anything this last year, it’s that I can survive whatever is thrown at me and I’m stronger than I think.
“You did so well, you deserve a chocolate,” I continue talking to myself. I wiggle the top of the box off again and study the chocolate. “Hmm. I bet you’re caramel.” Picking up one that has golden piping across the chocolate shell, my mouth waters anticipating the taste. Sure enough, the hard chocolate crunches as gooey caramel explodes in my mouth. I lean back as my eyes roll back in my head. “Okay, you deserve two.”
A knock at the door interrupts my chocolate induced orgasm. I grumble, walking to the door, opening it with an exaggerated swing and an icy stare.
“Sorry.” Stella, my assistant, winces. “I know you like to have a chill moment, but Graham wanted me to advise you that the bus is leaving right after the show.”
“Right. I forgot we need to be in Ohio tomorrow night. Thanks for reminding me.” She flashes a quick smile before she walks away. Well, so much for quiet time. As soon as Preston finishes his set, chaos ensues to get us out of here as soon as possible. These back-to-back city concerts are exhausting.
An hour later, I’m packed and hanging around backstage, watching Preston finish his set.
“He’s amazing on stage,” Stella says behind me. I nod, my eyes never leaving him. The little girl he pulled up on stage to help him sing his last song, has a smile plastered on her little round face as he lowers her back down. The cheers are deafening. For the next half hour, we watch the rest of the show. Preston calls me out on stage and I run out for my last appearance. He wraps his sweaty arm around me and we take a bow before the lights flicker off.
“Here’s to another fucking epic night,” Chaz says, handing me a shot glass. He grabs the tequila tucked under his arm and tips it over to pour the golden liquid into my glass. This seems to be our ceremonial after concert tribute.
I cover the top of it with my hand and shake my head. “No thanks, Chaz. I’m not feeling too well.” A tight stomach cramp has been happening off and on since we exited the stage. The last thing I need is alcohol to make it worse. Chaz glances at me with a worried look.
“You all right, Sky? You’re looking kind of pale.”
I slap him on the arm. “Stop making fun of my white skin,” I tease, but then wince when the cramp intensifies. Digging my hand into my side, hoping it helps stop the pain, Chaz grabs my elbow.
“I’m not kidding Sky. Maybe you should sit down.”
“I’m f—”
As the cramp becomes almost unbearable, my stomach convulses, and I put my hand over my mouth to stop what I know is coming. It happens so fast. I barely register the curse words coming out of Chaz’s mouth as I continue to empty my stomach all over the floor. A large trash can is placed in front of me, my throat burns as I can’t stop. Sweat runs down my back and tears cover my face.
I spit a couple times before attempting to stand up. Although as soon as I stand upright, my stomach gets angry and convulses again, sending me right back over the trashcan.
Someone pulls my hair back and wraps it in a tie. They blow cool air on my neck and I close my eyes relishing in the slight relief. I rise on shaky legs.
“Here, hun.” Graham hands me a Kleenex. I wipe the tears and blow my nose.
Sniffing, I rasp, “Thanks.”
“Wow. You look like hell.”
I glare at him even though it’s the truth.
“Come on, let’s move you to a chair.” He dips his head under my arm and brings me to a chair in the hallway. Security has closed off the end, but I notice a few people on the other side of them, glancing my way. Not two minutes go by and I’m already throwing my head into the trashcan. Graham stays by me the whole time. “What did you eat tonight?”
My arms drape around the trashcan like it’s my best friend and my head rests on it. I don’t want to move. It takes effort for me to think about what I’ve eaten. “I had some veggies from the green room and then I had a couple pieces of the chocolate you left for me.”
“What chocolate did I leave for you?”
The mention of food is the last thing I should talk about because my stomach twists again. But I turn my head to peek at him moving no other part of my body. “The chocolate in my room. With the sticky note?”
His eyes widen. Panic floods his eyes.
Oh, shit.
“Someone call 911, NOW!” he screams down the hall.
Chapter Sixteen
Max
“Hey boss.” Stone’s sleep filled voice fills the line. I fist my shaking hand. It’s midnight and I could give two fucks that I just woke him up.
“Wheels up in two hours,” I quip, anger strangling me as I attempt to keep my cool. “Round the guys up too.”
“Yes, sir.”
It’s time to go to work.
And save the woman who continues to stomp on my heart.
Again.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Chapter Seventeen
Sydney
The hospital bed squeaks as I roll to my side, the muscles in my stomach ache. I moan, bringing my legs up to my chest. When I manage to open my eyes, steel-blue eyes meet mine. And they’re burning through me with anger.
“Max,” I whisper. He takes a deep inhale and lets it out through his nostrils, leaning forward, he rests his elbows on his knees. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised to see you.” The rasp in my voice from the stomach acid and the tube to pump my stomach burns. The early day sun brightens the room, lighting up his stern expression. I’m thankful I’m alive to see the sun. There were moments I questioned my mortality during the night. Some moments I begged for it. The sound of my heart drums in my ears as Max stares at me, the sudden feeling of weakness and vulnerability overwhelm me.
He finally breaks his silence, raking his hands through his hair, leaving it in disarray. “Fuck. I don’t even know what to say, Tink. How are you feeling?” His forehead creases with worry.
“Like I gave birth to an alien. Through my mouth.”
He nods once with a slight tic to the mouth. “The police found the chocolate you had packed in your bag. They’re running it now.”
I wince as I sit up. Despite any apprehension I have of him being here, I’m safe with him around. The reality that someone poisoned me is terrifying. “Max, I had no idea it wasn’t from Graham. It was his handwriting. He leaves me little not
es all the time. There wasn’t any reason for me to question where it came from,” I say in my defense. This morning, I’ve done nothing except go over the entire night wondering if I missed something out of the ordinary. I didn’t.
“Why'd you get a new phone?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. He’s not going to believe the lie about my family contacting me anymore. “Someone sent me some flowers. They became aggressive wanting a thanks through texts. I thought it was just a crazy fan that would go away,” I explain, dropping my hands on the bed.
“But they didn’t, did they?”
I release a harsh sigh at his persistence. “No. Then they sent me black flowers with a not very nice message.”
“So, don’t you think it would have been a good idea not to go eating random things sent to you.” The aggravation in his voice pisses me off.
“I’m sorry I made a mistake,” I snap, straightening my back and squaring my shoulders. “I don’t find the bad in everything, Max. I don’t go around questioning life, living in fear. It’s not like I don’t have a security team. I never thought someone could get to me.”
The chair scrapes across the shiny floor as he pops up and paces the room. The internal conversation he’s having with himself is clear by the shaking of his head and the clenching of his fists, the muted growls. He wants to tell me I should. But that’s not me.
Finally, he talks himself down and leans against the wall, arms crossed. “I’m sorry.” His gaze drops to the floor, shifting his feet. “Someone shouldn’t have been able to get to you.” Leave it to Max to take responsibility.
The brown wooden door swings open and Graham walks in with a couple uniformed officers. Max pushes off the wall and shakes hands with them.