Chad smiled his best stage grin and asked, “When do we start this?”
~~
Jasmine considered the question. The sarcastic portion of her mind wondered what exactly Chad defined as this, but with the benefit of years of training, she cloaked the claws on her attitude. “I’ll call you tonight to confirm. I’ll get your personal cell phone number from Jared. By tonight our backstory will be airtight. The variable will be your staff. If you don’t think it’s pushing it, I’ll fly to Nashville in a couple of days. That should give you time to get back to Tennessee and plant some seeds. How apt are they to believe you have a love interest?”
Chad leaned back against the wall. “They are paid well enough not to ask questions about my private… encounters. Those that will ask, I can handle.”
Encounters? Not relationships or affairs, but encounters. Very telling. Jasmine let the comment pass without comment but cubby-holed that bit of information for later. “Will you be able to meet me at the airport?”
His vivid blue eyes searched her face, and he nodded. “Why?”
“If we use the fans and the scene they will cause, it may legitimize the reality of a relationship.”
“Yeah, we can do that, but without sounding too vain, I usually stir up one hell of a fuss when I appear at a public location. Besides, won’t a big scene piss off the man in black?”
Chad’s reference to her brother pulled forth a small laugh. “No, we can pre-position and control the area. Will the people closest to you question it?”
“Shit, who knows? Most days I have my own time. I write, play, sing or just listen to music. They leave me alone for at least a couple hours a day. It’s not like I have a life outside of my music, so I’m usually available when they need me. I keep to myself and rarely go out, so they may question the suddenness of the situation, but they can’t disprove it.”
“Do those rare outings include your trips to Club Chameleon?”
She watched the expression slide off his face. The shuttered mask he slipped on added to information points she was gathering about the superstar. The man radiated anger.
“How did you find out about the club?”
“The FBI. They have shots of you going into and coming out the night of one of the murders.”
“That part of my life isn’t open for discussion, and I won’t let you or anyone else dissect it. That club has nothing to do with your cover.”
“All portions of your life fall under a murder investigation. Why do you think the FBI knows about your membership? They think you hired someone to kill the people who are suing you.” Jasmine watched the storm of emotions stomp across the man’s expressive eyes. When anger and rage fled, a flood of confusion and anguish pushed itself forward.
“I’ve killed. On the orders of others while I was in the military.” Chad closed his eyes and clenched his hands in a spasmodic effort which seemed to control his emotions. “I will never again be responsible for taking another life.” Chad drew a deep, shuddering breath. “I don’t have anything to do with the murders of those people. If I had my way, I would have settled those cases out of court. I fought to have them taken care of immediately, but the lawyers and my management team convinced me that settling would sway my public to think I was at fault. I wasn’t, in either of those cases.”
“If you aren’t guilty, Jared and his people will prove it. They are the best at what they do. In the meantime, there is a credible threat against you. While the security team you’ve been assigned can take care of external threats, we believe you are most vulnerable to an internal threat. Hence me.”
“No… the more this soaks in, the more uncomfortable I am with the whole thing. I’m capable of taking care of myself. Especially now that I know there is a threat.” He shrugged his shoulder and continued, “Heck, I’ve been trained to take care of myself. While I appreciate the…” He swept his hand up and down, indicating her transformation, “…I think you should call your brother back in here. I’ve changed my mind. I’m not going to put more people in danger.”
“I don’t doubt for a second that you can take care of yourself. The fact of the matter is that this threat might not be one you see or one that you can fight by yourself.”
“Right. No offense, darlin’. I saw you in action, so I know you can scrap with the best of them, but if someone is coming after me, do you really think you could stop them?”
The man sounded resigned and defeated. She couldn’t let that continue. Jasmine slid off the table and walked up to him. She ran her fingertips across his cheek and swept them through his thick hair. Her voice was icy and clear. “Oh, I can and will stop them. We will convince everyone that we are a couple, and no one will suspect I’m more than your current flavor of the day. However, what you need to remember is that I sleep with a .45 caliber automatic. I am a black belt in three different disciplines, and even though I may act like a woman in love for your crew—I’m not. I’m here to do a job. I’m one of the best at what I do. I have extremely sharp nails, long teeth, and my bite can kill. Unlike you, I have no doubt I may take another life in the performance of my job, and that is something I have come to terms with a long time ago. I don’t need or want your knight on a white horse act, Mr. Nelson. I’m here to do a job and nothing more. I’m not calling my brother. We are doing this, and we will make it believable.”
Jasmine slid her body against his and purred, “We are going to need to be very believable. Do you think you can kiss me like you mean it?” The contact of his body against hers sent erratic tendrils of sensation through her.
The singer gazed at her for several long seconds before he put his arms around her waist and pulled her firmly against him. The tug forced a small huff of air from her lungs. “I guaran-damn-tee it. But I still don’t like this, not even a little bit. I don’t need you in harm’s way.” He lowered his head and softly caressed her lips.
The same desire she’d felt for him in his dressing room that first night rocketed through her veins. She pulled away slowly and took a deep breath. The arc of sexual electricity between them crackled, bringing goose bumps to the surface of her skin. This was what she’d wanted with Malaki. I’m so screwed.
He smiled wickedly, almost as if he could sense her thoughts. He ran his hands up her back and added, “To make this work, you have to understand that the closest members of my entourage know I prefer my women… compliant.”
Jasmine leaned forward again, wrapped her arms around his neck, looked at him through her lashes and purred, “Anything for you, Chad.” She lifted an eyebrow and murmured, “Because it’s my job, nothing more—and Mr. Singer Dude, you do need me.”
His eyebrows rose as his smile widened. “Yeah, but not to step in the path of a bullet.”
Jasmine dropped her hands to his chest and pushed him away. Enough tit for tat. They had an insertion to plan. She chuckled at the double entendre. The sexy-as-sin musician gave her a questioning look. No, no way in hell she’d ever explain that thought. Time to turn the conversation toward the business of getting her into his world. “Alright, Mr. Superstar, you sell the bill of goods to your inner sanctum the way you need to. Fill me in on what happens tonight when I call you. And would you do me a personal favor?”
Chad’s eyebrows rose in question.
“Stay alive until I can get there. Alright?”
“Oh, I’m not planning on getting myself killed, especially not when I have a front row seat to this show.”
Chapter Seven
Is that what a person looks like when they’re having a stroke? A vein across Chad’s manager’s forehead bulged obscenely and turned a dark blue color. His face and neck flushed a vivid red and spittle clung to his lips as he shouted, “What the hell do you mean you need to go to the airport? Do you realize how much that security detail is going to bitch? Not to mention your agent, the record company and that guy from Guardian who told you to keep your ass here. We’ve only been home for three days. They haven’t found the person who
is threatening you.”
Chad shrugged. “I don’t care. I need to meet someone at the airport. If we don’t advertise it, I can sneak in, meet her flight and leave without anyone knowing.”
“Bullshit! You are the most recognized face in the business. You have a certified death threat against you, and you need to keep your ass right here in this house.”
Chad laughed and stood up, towering over his manager. “I pay you. Remember?”
The manager choked on his anger. His face turned a horrific shade of red-blue. The little man sputtered and paced as his hands flew around in disjointed exclamation points. “Who is it that you’re going to meet? I mean, I can pick up them up. This isn’t good. You can’t do this.”
“Terry, I’m picking up a personal friend—a close personal friend.” Chad picked up his guitar and strummed a couple of cords. “Her plane lands at three thirty. Either you work the security detail to make sure they are ready, or I will go by myself.”
“How come this is the first I am hearing of this friend? What is she, a groupie? Or one of your whores that you sneak out to tie up and beat? Seriously, now is not the time for that shit.”
The fuck did he say? Chad’s head whipped around, nailing his manager with his eyes. “What?” The steel and ice in his voice froze the space between them. He saw the change in the man the second Terry realized what he’d said. Fear fixed on his face, draining the torrid flush to a sickening pallor.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it, Chad. I’m just worried about you, about the threat…”
“Three people know about my visits to the club. You are not one of them. Who. Told. You?” Chad stepped closer, and the little man cowered.
“Nobody?”
“Fuck you, Terry! Who told you?”
“Millicent. She wanted me to be aware in case you ever needed someone to come get you.”
Millicent Wicker. The one fucking person he thought he could trust with all his secrets. The one who obviously disregarded the non-disclosure agreement. Chad felt his blood boiling and struggled to push down the rage that was building.
“What?” He couldn’t form any other words with his teeth clenched and grinding.
“She told me what happens in those places.”
“Bullshit! She knows nothing about what happens in that club. People like you and Millicent only read the bastardized guesses of small-minded people. What I do in my private time has nothing to do with you, Millicent, or anyone else on this planet.”
“Okay, Chad. I get it. I promise I won’t talk to anyone about this again.”
“Again?”
“Uhhh…”
“What the fuck, man! Who did you tell?” Chad moved until he was inches away from the man. His teeth clenched so hard he could feel them breaking. His one remaining illusion of privacy was being shredded, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to mitigate what had happened. And that pissed him off.
“Well, when that agent from the FBI called? Davis, I think his name was? He needed to account for your whereabouts. He wouldn’t tell me anything other than the date. He was curious about where you were, and that was one of the nights you went to the club. I knew because you took the Audi and the clothes you wear when you go there are… different. I told him he needed to talk to your lawyers, but then I called your lawyer to give him a heads up. I didn’t say a word about you going there to the FBI, but it scared the shit out of me! Why did the FBI want to know where you were? Are they tracking the stalker, too?”
Chad strode across the space that separated them. “If you open your mouth about me again, to anyone, I will ruin you. You will not work for another person in this or any other entertainment industry. You will write down exactly what Millicent told you and when. But right now… you need to get out of here, Terry. Get out now!”
Chad saw nothing but the man’s backside as he streaked out of the room. Fucking Millicent. How many others had she told? Chad paced and pulled out his phone. He needed to… hell… what did he need to do? This wasn’t fucking happening. He couldn’t bring attention to the club. The ultra-rich, celebrities and political powerhouses who used that club didn’t need this. Fuck! Legally, he couldn’t say a damn thing. He needed to ensure nothing else got out. If Millicent were the one releasing his private information… he’d terminate her services… bring a damn lawsuit against her maybe. Son of a bitch, why in the hell would she…
“Dude, the entire compound heard you screaming at Terry. You okay?” Chad swung around at Kirk’s question. He shook his head and continued to pace.
“Whoa, Chad, man, talk to me. What the hell has you so worked up?”
His friend’s puzzled expression only added to his anger. He’d trusted two people with this secret, and one of them had fucked him royally. Kirk and Millicent had an on-again-off-again, friends-with-benefits thing going on. Kirk knew about the club, too. The third person was the lawyer who’d drawn up the bullet-proof NDA that both Millicent and Kirk had signed. “I need you to call Millicent. Get her down here.”
“Hell, she just flew back to New York yesterday after talking the stalker issue to death. Seriously, I’m not as young as I used to be. I need a break. The woman wore me out.” Kirk flopped into the deep leather cushions of the couch.
“I don’t fucking care. Get her here.” He whipped out his needle-sharp response faster than a rattler could strike.
Kirk’s eyes did the saucer thing. Good. About time somebody got the idea he was pissed. “Dude, seriously, chill. I’ll call. What has your panties in a wad?”
Chad stopped pacing and gritted his response through his teeth. “She will be here tomorrow morning, or I will take action. Got it?”
“Fuck, man… yeah, yeah, I got it. I… she… Chad… are you okay?” Kirk pulled out his phone. His hand was shaking as he unlocked it. Chad couldn’t help wondering if he was upset his quasi-lover was in trouble or that Chad was madder than a fucking junkyard dog.
Kirk lifted the phone to his ear. Millicent’s voice caught and held Chad’s attention. Although he couldn’t hear the exact words, the tone wasn’t that of a lover.
“Milli, you need to come to Nashville. Be here by noon tomorrow.” Kirk looked up at Chad and shook his head. “Sweetheart, you’re up a creek without a paddle. Get here if you want to have a career.” Kirk hung up the phone and threw it onto the coffee table. He leaned forward and looked up at Chad. “What can I do?”
“I’m going to the airport this afternoon. Arrange it with the new security team or make sure Terry has done it.”
“Why are you going to the airport?”
Chad looked directly at Kirk and gave a half-hearted smile. He didn’t feel like playing the game Guardian had set up, but he needed to sell Jasmine’s story. Hell, maybe Guardian could put a lid on this shit for him. That thought caught and held.
“I finally convinced her to come down.”
The tall blond froze instantly and glared at Chad. “Who? Millicent?”
“No. Jasmine.”
“Wait. What? Who the hell is Jasmine?”
“Someone I met while I was in the military.”
“Yeah? That’s a long time ago.”
“Mmm… she was special, but things were complicated. I got all reflective one night a couple of months ago and looked her up. We’ve been talking for a while. I finally convinced her to visit now that I’m on a break from touring.”
Kirk flopped back on the couch. “No shit?”
Chad looked at him and dipped his head. “No shit.”
“Cool, when are we going to pick her up?”
Chad shifted his eyes to the man he considered his best friend. “We?”
Kirk gave him a weird look. “Well, yeah, man. We always go together.”
Chad shook his head. “Not this time, dude. I think I would like some alone time with her, if you know what I mean.”
Kirk stood up. “Yeah, right. Sorry, didn’t think that one through. I’ll talk to the security detail.
What time?”
“I need to meet her flight at three thirty.”
“Okay. I got it.” Kirk walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.
A swirl of thoughts swam across Chad’s mind. He was so damn tired. He hadn’t slept for shit last night, or for that matter, any night since Jared and Jasmine King had walked into his life. The cold hard facts were undeniable. The FBI thought he was a person of interest. Two people were dead, and from what he was being told he was the only intersecting point. He wasn’t responsible for their deaths, yet somehow he’d been implicated. Add the fact he had death threats made against him, and you had a perfect shit storm. Not to mention all of that chaos was happening outside of his carefully constructed sphere of self-imposed shelter.
How in the hell had he become so isolated and protected that he had no knowledge of what was happening around him? People managed his life. Hell, they managed his access to information about his life. If it weren’t so pathetic, it would be funny. But looking at it now, what he saw was nothing less than tragic. He’d built the perfect business machine, employed the best people and turned his back to play his music while the machine took on a life of its own.
Chad stopped pacing. In a moment of startling clarity, he knew exactly what he was going to do. He took a deep breath for the first time in almost a week. He knew what to do. Chad grabbed the guitar and strummed random cords while he mentally ticked boxes off on the laundry list of items he’d need to accomplish to make it happen. Fuck, as the idea grew and took on roots, the list became long, complicated and ugly. A knock at the door caused him to fall back on the couch in frustration. Rubbing his face with both hands, he bellowed, “What!”
Kirk poked his head around the door, “I am sorry to bother you again, but I got the security details worked out. I will come get you when we are ready to leave.”
“We are not going, Kirk. I am going. No manager, no entourage, just me and the security detail. Understand?”
Jasmine (Kings of Guardian Book 6) Page 7