His curls were too hard not to touch, and I reached out to brush one back. “Not so bad, yourself, Mr. Hottest Bachelor. You do need a hat, though, if we stand a chance of not being spotted.” He would still look gorgeous in a hat, but at least it would make it harder to identify him.
“Well, look at everyone all fixed up for a night on the town. I was sure you meant to invite us, too, right Jack?” Travis had approached silently and interrupted smoothly, feigning innocence. One look at Jack’s face showed he did not intend to include Travis and his band in the festivities.
“Oh, man, it was hard enough to pull strings for our huge party to be seated tonight for dinner. Y’all are free to go to the bars on your own.” Jack kept a cold gaze on Travis, and I shrunk back, uncomfortable.
“Sure, I see how it is. We’ll catch up with y’all later,” he said it in a tone that was half-menacing and half-hurt. He stepped back to look me over and said, “You, I will be looking for, Ms. Travis.”
He walked away and I glanced to see Jackson’s hands fisted as he muttered, “Doctor, you ass.”
I sat to his right during the amazing meal, where he picked up the whole tab. He thanked everyone for an amazing tour and then joked, “Now, your drinks and your ride home tonight are on you. Some of you damn lushes could bankrupt me!”
When we finished dinner, everyone planned where to go next. A few people wanted to see a band at the Irish Pub, the drivers decided to go bowling, and I saw Andy and Kate whispering as they decided to go see a movie.
Most of us were excited about the dueling piano bar, and Fitch exclaimed, “I can’t wait to request a song by Jack Morgan!” We all laughed as we headed out of Hard Rock and met up with three more security guys who were to flank around whatever group Jack was with, but remain unseen.
The night flew by with rounds of beer and a huge variety of songs. I alternately danced with the group and sat with Jackson and Charlie, watching the show. The girls and I broke it down to “Boot Scootin’ Boogie,” and then, there was “Baby Got Back.” It was hilarious to hear the two piano players sing the rap song word for word, and most of us got up to dance and goof off. We formed a circle where each person went inside and gave their best moves. My favorites were Ric doing The Worm across the floor and Trina’s version of The Robot.
I eventually collapsed into the booth next to Jackson and took a slug of beer from my ice-cold bottle. He was grinning ear to ear, chuckling to himself until I finally demanded to know what he was thinking.
“Nothing, I just, wow. I never saw anyone shake their booty like you just did during that song … it was inspiring.” He smirked and I pursed my lips at him, pretending to be offended, though I knew it was a compliment.
Charlie interrupted. “Our waitress has been giving you funny looks since we got here, but I think she finally figured you out, man. She’s back there whispering to a few other servers at the bar and nodding this way.” We both turned to see the four females gushing excitedly as they glanced back at our booth.
“All good things come to an end, eh?” I said sourly, and Jackson sighed loudly as we began to collect our things and wave the group over to tell them it was time for the star and I to exit before he was mobbed. Everyone else was going to stay, and security followed as we left the bar and began the long walk through the courtyard toward the complex entrance. Joe had parked out front and led the way.
The outside air was chilly but felt good after dancing up a sweat. We stopped to wait for Johnny to catch up after paying Jack’s tab, and I felt a hand around my waist.
“It was a good night,” Jackson whispered in my ear as he leaned into me and adjusted his crutch on the other side.
I met his gaze. “Agreed,” I replied with a smile, “Now, keep your weight off that foot!” He rolled his eyes at me and then we heard the shrieks begin.
“It is him! I knew it!”
“I can’t believe he’s still in town!”
“We have to get a picture! I’m your biggest fan!”
Chapter 10
A chorus of voices began as two groups of girls descended on us. I watched their faces full of excitement and hope as they neared, then I looked around to see people nearby and above us on the balcony of the second-floor courtyard looking down to see what the commotion was about. I instinctively took steps back as Joe and Johnny took control, flanking Jackson to keep the girls a few feet away. The locally hired security fanned out to slow the others joining the crowd and to keep them from pushing inward.
Anxiety consumed me as the scene unfolded, and the madness forced me another step away from Jackson. I glanced up to see his face was quite the opposite. He was cool, calm, and … happy. He was in his zone and he beamed at his fans, tipping his baseball hat. The fans increased steadily as people took notice, and men and women alike began to join the crowd as flashes from camera phones went wild and papers shoved toward Jack to autograph.
The chaos made me dizzy as the crowd moved in and pushed me further out. I was just moving with the flow at first and then began feeling pushed and shoved out of the way. Finally, I reached a lamppost with a bench outside of the fray and sat down to relieve my shaky legs as I watched the mob grow and Jackson shine like the celebrity he was.
“I would never let you get pushed away like that.” The deep voice startled me, and I looked up to see none other than Travis McCoy. Of course.
“You always scare the crap out of me,” I snapped and he laughed, holding his hands up in surrender.
He took the seat next to me and continued, “Had to be a little scary, huh?”
I cleared my throat so my voice sounded stronger than I felt. “Oh, just another day for Jack.”
“Yeah, but not for you. He should look out for you better. He doesn’t even know or seem to care where you are.”
His observation stung. Jackson was completely occupied with the crowd around him, currently signing a hat for a fan and then posing for a photo. Joe and Johnny were letting one fan at a time reach him and keeping the others a few feet away.
My shoulders slumped. “You know, I hate to admit it, but you’re right. I’m suddenly so tired, I just want to get back, and now we’ll be stuck here forever.”
“Let’s go find a cab. I’ll escort you personally.”
I glanced over to his face, shadowed by the huge cowboy hat and wondered how fans out here had not discovered him yet. I debated his offer when one of the security staff appeared.
“Dr. Travis? Sorry I lost you in the crowd. I’m supposed to stay with you in case of such an event. My name’s Max.” The guard was a big man in his thirties with chocolate skin and a bald head. I looked at him with confusion and he continued, “Mr. Morgan wanted to be sure you were looked after. I can stay with you here, escort you to another bar, or get you home, ma’am. I’d say he’s going to be awhile.”
I had mixed emotions as I realized Jackson knew this was probably going to happen. While I felt happy that he thought ahead and planned for my safety, it also ticked me off that he always knew I’d wind up abandoned after being at his side all night.
“I think I’d like to leave, Max. But, let Mr. Morgan know I found my own way home.” I stood with authority and glanced over to Travis. “Does your offer still stand? Let’s find a taxi.”
“Um, Dr. Travis, he won’t like that. I’m supposed to personally see to your safety.” Max was nervous.
“Well, then, come along and watch me get into a cab bound for the arena so you won’t get in trouble.” I indulged him, tugging him along as Travis stood and took my arm. We walked out toward the neon entrance sign to the Fourth Street Live courtyard.
There were two cabs waiting, and Travis walked to the window of one, then stepped back to open the back door for me. Max held out a hand to stop me and pleaded, “Please, let me get my car and take you myself.”
“Look, Max, I’m in the cab. It’s a very short drive. Thanks for your help, but you can get back to crowd control now.” I waved and scooted over for Trav
is to join me before the cab sped off.
He nudged me with his elbow. “It cracks me up to hear you called Dr. Travis, since we share a name and all.” His eyes crinkled as he teased me about my silly comment when I met him.
I rolled my eyes but laughed and thought it was good to relax on the drive back after the stress I felt at the end of the night. Travis had shown up just when I needed him, and I felt satisfied that I had not waited around for the groupies to get their fill.
When we exited the cab, there was an awkward moment I decided to fill with babble. “Okay, well, thanks so much for the escort home. I feel like a zombie, so I am going to head straight to bed. Uh, see you tomorrow.”
I backed away slowly as I talked, and he watched me silently until I reached the black bus and pulled out my key. I still felt his eyes as I turned to enter and locked the door behind me. As soon as I washed my face, I crashed and welcomed sleep to take me.
My throat felt scratchy when I woke, and even after I brushed my teeth and drank a bottle of water, it remained raw. I found hot chocolate in the cabinet, made a steaming mug, and sat down to watch the morning news. Sure enough, the local channel had footage of Jackson’s mob scene I’d missed all the fun when a reporter and camera crew showed up and interviewed Jack and the surprised fans. He gave a charming story about wanting to experience such a great town, and while he’d hoped to stay out of the spotlight, he did love to meet his fans.
I attempted to talk back to the TV and thank the groupies for ruining a lovely night, when I realized I didn’t have a voice. Too much yelling over the loud music last night. At least the scratchy throat made sense. My thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door, where I found Andy ready with a to-do list.
I whispered hello and he raised his brows. “Lost your voice, eh? That much fun last night?”
I shook my head in denial, unable to give any details in my current condition. Instead, I pointed to him and he blushed.
“Yeah, we had a really nice time. We were both glad to have someone who wanted to chill at a movie. I just don’t know how to tell if she thinks I’m a friend or a date.”
I replied with an encouraging smile and wagged my eyebrows.
We both powered up our computers and started on work until Jackson appeared thirty minutes later. He limped to the couch and flopped down, eyeing the coffee machine. I purposefully neglected to make any and he noticed. Andy jumped to brew it when he read Jack’s mind. As he puttered around the kitchen, he reminded us of our agenda to leave at noon for Evansville, Indiana, where our next two shows were at a huge riverboat casino.
Then, he quizzed Jack about what time he’d finally arrived home the night before. Jackson rubbed his eyes and grumbled, “It was just after two a.m., I think. I just knew it was going to happen, man. I should not have gone.”
I finally glanced up with a sharp look and whispered, “Really? I thought we had such a great night before that.”
He glared back. “Until you ditched me to ride home with your stalker, after I specifically assigned Max to stay with you. And, why are you hissing like a damn snake?”
“I lost my voice!” I did hiss this time. “Probably from having fun before the groupies descended and literally pushed me out of the way. Of course, I left—after I was abandoned. You don’t realize how insensitive that was.”
“What should I do? Run away from my fans like an asshole? You told me it would be fine and I should go, then you get mad when my prediction comes true. At least you got to come back to bed and crash, I was there for hours on my feet, and my ankle hurts like hell.”
I had nearly forgotten about my job to take care of his ankle, and my eyes widened with guilt. I moved to sit across from him and examined the swelling and the red sore. He was tender and sucked in a breath as I palpated the area. I looked up to express my concern and he met my eyes.
“The worst part, by far, was watching you leave with Travis.”
I rubbed my throat to express I just couldn’t talk about it now. He groaned, leaning back as Andy brought him a mug of coffee, and I started to massage the edema out of his foot and ankle. By the end of therapy, another knock came at the door and Amos sauntered in, taking off his cowboy hat to fit his tall, lanky frame through the door. I had not seen him since Nashville, and my disappointment showed.
“Howdy, howdy! How’s my man? Saw the news coverage—brilliant move!” He took over the room and demanded a replay of the night’s events.
It was perfect timing for me to take a hot shower. Surely, the steam would help to ease my throat. Dressed in jeans and a UK t-shirt afterward, I rummaged in the kitchen for a snack since we skipped breakfast. Another knock came.
Amos opened the door and bellowed, “Well, it’s Travis McCoy himself! How’s your manager treatin’ ya? You know you can always get on board with me.”
I froze at the sink where I was washing an apple and glanced at the doorway and back to Jackson’s desk. He was fuming. “Tell him Lexie can’t talk, literally, so we’ll see him in Evansville.”
Amos jerked his glance to me, understanding now that Travis and Jack were not buddies, and he’d come to see me. I walked around the counter to stand next to Amos. Travis was at the bottom of the steps saying, “I sure would like to see her for a minute. Oh, there you are, just wanted to make sure you had a good night’s rest.”
I nodded and gave a weak smile, rubbing my throat. Jack yelled from behind me, “I told you she lost her voice, so you can be on your way now.”
Travis looked at me dubiously with his honey eyes, but I nodded to reassure him what Jack said was true. “Well, I hope you feel better. See ya when we get to Indiana.” He tipped his hat and turned to walk away.
Amos shut the door and glared at me. I thought he was getting ready to go on a tirade about me causing drama on the tour, but instead he demanded, “You lost your voice? Sore throat? You could be sick! You have to stay away from Jack immediately. You could take him out of commission and make him miss tour dates!”
I shook my head sternly and whispered brokenly, “Just from yelling.”
Amos roared. “You don’t know that. You could have a virus, or God forbid, strep throat. Jack, we’ve been down this road before. You’ve got to quarantine her and keep a safe distance.”
My mouth gaped, and I looked over to Jackson, who suddenly looked afraid. I glared at him, grabbed my apple, and spun on my heel for my bunk, pulling the curtain tight. I heard them discussing quietly and then heard Helen on the speaker telling us to get ready for the bus to leave soon. Andy was outside of my curtain, asking if I was going to be okay by myself for the ride, Jack was going to play it safe on the gray bus. I stuck a thumbs-up sign out for him to see and then settled back with my iPod to veg out, actually glad I wouldn’t have to deal with Amos during the long ride.
At some point, I must have fallen asleep, because I woke later with a terrible chill. Just as quickly as I felt the chill, burning heat pulsed through my skin, making it slick with sweat. What time was it? Where were we? I rubbed my eyes and tried to clear the cobwebs, finding that my throat definitely did not feel better.
Stumbling out of my bunk, I entered the deserted the kitchen. Through the blinds, I could see the sun had nearly set, and we were parked in a huge lot with the gray bus off to one side and a spot of green grass with picnic tables off to the other side. While I debated venturing out, footsteps approached and ascended the stairs. Andy came through the door, while Jackson paused in the doorway.
“There you are, sleeping beauty. We brought you dinner since you slept the day away, and I’m pretty sure all you’ve had is an apple,” Jack announced with a twinkle in his eye. “Surely all that rest got your voice back, right?”
Chill prickled my skin again and I felt dizzy. I sat in the booth quickly, refusing to meet his gaze.
“Lexie, you all right?” Andy pried, and I finally shook my head. He rummaged in the bathroom and then stuck a thermometer in my mouth as Jackson lingered halfway out the d
oor. “One-oh-two point five. Damn, a fever and definitely not just laryngitis,” Andy announced.
Chapter 11
Andy informed me he would find a doctor quickly. “Hey,” he called before he shut the door, “don’t take it personal, but when you get sick on tour, you won’t be seeing much of anyone, okay?”
I glanced up long enough to nod, not caring about being outcast anymore. On the couch, I curled up to sleep again.
The next few days were a blur. I recalled a doctor visiting and the diagnosis of severe strep throat. He prescribed several medications, and I kept a list to make sure I took them properly in my hazy state. I didn’t even have the presence of mind to wonder how the rest of the group was doing; survival was my goal, hour by hour. I slept almost constantly and regretted my regular bragging about how rarely I got ill. Surely, this was payback.
When the fever lifted, I didn’t know what day or time it was. My phone’s location was a mystery; I couldn’t remember when I last looked at it. It was completely dead in my purse, and I plugged it in to charge. The clock said 6:08 p.m., but I had to use the calendar on my phone to figure out it was Saturday evening. We’d arrived on Wednesday, and I balked to realize I’d missed three full days of time and a concert the night before. The next concert would be starting shortly, and tomorrow we were set to leave the town. I would never see Evansville.
As my phone charged, it chimed endlessly with texts and voicemails from the last two days. My family and Ashley had been trying to check on me, plus a message from Kate saying she and the dancers were wishing me a speedy recovery. Andy left a message each day, trying to check in and see if I was alive between his visits to check on me while I was comatose. I had texts from Jack as well, to make sure I was taking the medication, that I saw the food delivered each day, and asking if I needed anything. Hmm … food, great idea. I forgot to eat when I was so busy sleeping. I rummaged through meals stocked in the fridge and warmed up some delicious smelling pasta with a cream sauce. As I ate, I texted each person back to tell them I was indeed alive, though barely, and hoped to be back in commission and out of exile the next day.
Muse: ( Groupie Volume 2 of 2) Page 6