“Your things are in a private dressing room. The stage manager is waiting to take you through the drill, but you and Spence will perform last and aren’t up until ninety minutes into the show. There will be a commercial break at the hour mark when you’ll leave your seats to get ready. Will that give you enough time?”
“That’ll be fine. Is Spence here yet?”
“He’s already in his seat.”
“Is he alone?”
The assistant looked away, but not before Max noted the disappointment in her eyes. “No, he isn’t.”
Jessi rested a hand on the woman’s arm, but if she meant to respond, she didn’t get the chance. A flamboyant older man in a deep green tuxedo swept up to them with several other younger men in tow. His dark-eyed gaze skimmed over Max from head to toe before locking on to Jessi. A genuine smile lit his thin face as he pressed a kiss to one of her cheeks, then the other in an old world greeting. He stepped back to give her a similar onceover to the one he’d given Max.
“You look ravishing, Miss Tucker.” He spoke in an Eastern European accent that screamed gay vampire as he dropped his gaze to stare at her chest. “These old eyes have never looked upon anything so breathtaking.”
Max frowned at the smaller man, but Jessi grinned and slapped a hand to the generous cleavage above her midnight blue gown. “I would blush and say thanks, but I think you’re talking about the jewelry.”
To Max’s surprise, a pale blotch of pink bloomed on the man’s high cheekbones. Jessi laughed, and the matching bracelet on her wrist sparkled as she stroked the triple strand necklace of perfect white diamonds adorning her pale skin. “They’re Sidney’s, and I agree. I only wish I could afford them.”
Not likely. Max had nearly choked when the designer’s security guards had presented the receipt for the set, which included the earrings dangling almost to her collarbone. She hadn’t blinked an eye as she signed her name to the paper, promising to return the collection “as is” at the close of the evening or write a check for a cool one point two million.
Jessi linked her arm with Max’s. “Max Grayson, this is Victor. He runs things around here.”
The stage manager dipped his head in acknowledgment, offered Alicia a greeting smile, and immediately turned back to Jessi. His lips pulled down in a pout. “I’m not sure if I’ve forgiven you for neglecting us the last time you were in town.”
Laughter sparkled in her eyes. “Come on now, you know Tim handles bookings. I just show up and sing, and I’ll be back in a few weeks for a tour stop.”
His pout morphed into a smirk. “How is your annoying cousin?”
“A pain in the ass, as usual.” They shared a grin. “He’ll be in the audience tonight, as will my father. I’ll be sure to send him back so you can badger him into apologizing.”
Victor sniffed delicately. “That, my dear, will never happen.” As if he flipped a switch, the stage manager was suddenly all business. He barked out orders to the three young men waiting patiently behind him, and they scattered like willing minions. Victor turned to Alicia. “Perhaps Mr. Grayson would like a refreshment while I take Miss Tucker through her marks for the evening. Would you be a darling and show him to the green room?”
Jessi squeezed Max’s arm before letting go. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”
Mindful of the stalker, not to mention the more than one million in borrowed diamonds sparkling against her skin, Max curled his lips in a heated smile. While she wasn’t aware of his true reason for wanting to stay close, she’d set up this lovers’ farce. He’d gladly play up the pretext to keep her safe.
He slid his palm to her waist and let his fingers ride down to caress her hip. “If you wouldn’t mind, darling, I’d like to stay. You know how jealous I get when you’re out of my sight.”
“Oh my.” Victor’s narrow hand fluttered to his chest, and he looked on Max with renewed interest. Alicia wore a pleased smile.
The gleam in Jessi’s eyes said he was overplaying it. She batted her lashes. “Why, snookums, you do say the sweetest things.”
Max was tempted to kiss her senseless, in retribution, of course. Thankfully, Victor stepped in to save his ass.
He cleared his throat and held out one hand to indicate the stage. “Well, then. Shall we?”
* * * *
Twenty minutes later, one of Victor’s minions escorted Max and Jessi to their seats in the second row of the theater. Spence made a show for the audience by rising to his feet and hugging Jessi. His date, a buxom blonde beauty, twittered nervously as he introduced her to his singing partner. The greeting he gave Max was a bit less cordial. A curt nod, a handshake, and the country singer returned to his seat between the blonde and Jessi.
Ryan and Tim were seated in the row directly behind them, but with the show about to start, there was no time for more than a simple hello. Country music’s best and brightest were in attendance, many of whom took their turn on stage. The time passed quickly and soon, a soft spoken, female usher appeared to collect Jessi and Spence for their performance. A handsome young couple waited at her side to fill their vacant seats. The usher signaled to another young man when Max insisted on accompanying Jessi backstage.
Jessi gave him no argument, taking the hand he offered with a roll of her eyes, but the arrangement obviously didn’t sit well with Spence. He stalked up the aisle and left Jessi and Max to follow. Max wasn’t sure what his problem was. Although he didn’t consider the man a friend, Spence had seemed friendly enough the few times they’d met.
Max forgot all about her singing partner’s foul mood when Jessi emerged from her dressing room several minutes later decked out in a slinky red number. The shiny silk skimmed her curves like a second skin. That is, where there was enough material to cover them. The plunging neckline stopped midway to her navel, and if the hem were any shorter, the folks in the front rows would get more of a show than they’d bargained for.
With the inner curve of her breasts and toned columns of her thighs exposed, the woman strolling toward Max held no resemblance to the talented young girl he remembered from the last time he’d watched her perform. He straightened from his slouch against the wall, vertebrae by vertebrae.
A low whistle blew through his lips. “Jesus, Squirt. That dress should be illegal.”
Her purely feminine smile grabbed him by the short hairs, and his balls contracted.
“I think it is in a couple of the southern states.” She dropped her gaze and skimmed a hand over one luscious hip, then peeked up at him through her fringe of thick lashes. “Too much?”
His Adam’s apple clicked on a pained swallow. “Too little. Your ass is practically showing.”
He had to bite back a groan as she spun around and presented him with a view of the sweetest ass he’d ever seen, wrapped up like a gift in shimmering red. She craned her neck to look over her shoulder and tugged at the hem. It didn’t help.
Worry darkened her eyes as they lifted to his. “Do you think Dad will be mad?”
Oh, fuck. Ryan Tucker was going to have a stroke when his daughter walked out on stage. “Mad enough to break my jaw.”
She spun around. “Why would he be mad at you? I’m the one wearing it.”
He crossed his arms. “Have you worn anything like that before? And by before I mean, before you moved in with me?”
“Um. No.” She bit her bottom lip. “It’s part of the new, independent me.”
He dropped his chin to his chest and squeezed his eyes shut. Counting to ten didn’t help. When he looked up, she’d chewed the lipstick off the corner of her mouth. “I think it would be better on your father’s heart if you eased into your role of Miss Independence. What about the blue thing you were wearing earlier? Can’t you wear that?”
His hope of alluding the coming disaster took a fatal hit when Alicia rounded the corner. “They need you at stage right, Jessi.”
Jessi drew in a shaky breath. “Sorry, Max. No time. Wish me
luck.” She stepped around him to join her assistant. They disappeared toward the right stage entrance.
“You’re not the one who’s going to need it,” he mumbled as he hurried after them. Stepping over a bundle of wires, he caught up to her where she stood with Spence. Victor fidgeted with his clipboard as he watched the stage for their cue. Alicia brushed a wand over Jessi’s lips in a quick repair job.
Jessi’s eyes were closed, and she breathed deeply, as if in meditation. Max’s gaze was irresistibly drawn back to her sweetly curved ass above the long length of her legs. The country music world was about to get an eyeful. That costume would have tongues wagging, or simply hanging out, and Ryan was going to lay the blame at Max’s feet.
Thank God Tuck was out of town for a game.
“Okay, that’s your cue.” Victor stepped to the side and beamed a smile at country’s sweetheart couple. “Break a leg.”
Spence held out one hand. Jessi’s eyes popped open and she swallowed. She cast a glance Max’s way, her face pale and her eyes full of panic. He frowned, but she looked away, curled her fingers with Spence’s, and with a falsely bright smile on her newly repaired lips, stepped into the spotlight.
Startled gasps could be heard before the frenetic roar of the crowd drowned out all sound. Max moved closer for a better view, stopping beside Alicia. On stage, the master of ceremonies greeted the pair and a tall blonde delivered them each a wireless mic before disappearing.
Spence led Jessi to their mark and, lifting their linked hands, bared her palm for a kiss. With her back to him, Max couldn’t see Jessi’s face, but what he saw in Spence’s eyes made him stiffen. Either the man was a consummate actor or he was in love with his singing partner. His earlier behavior suddenly made sense.
Alicia shifted at Max’s side, and he turned his head.
She gripped the clipboard tight against her chest. Her eyes remained on the stage as the beginning notes of their latest platinum hit began. “They’re so perfect together.”
Max grunted and looked back at the couple crooning a heartbreaking tale of love and devotion in front of four thousand adoring fans. He couldn’t disagree. The music they made together was fine and pure. Their combined voices created a harmony that seeped into the listener’s heart, but Max couldn’t quite form the image of physical love between the two.
Perhaps because he didn’t want to. He’d become used to the knowledge that, though he wasn’t capable of the kind of love he witnessed in others, there was a woman out there who loved him anyway. Like the street scum he’d always be, he’d basked in the glow from Jessi’s innocent feelings, skipping close enough from time to time in order to keep her interested, but remaining forever just out of her reach.
For years, she’d been his for the taking. His to deny or claim if he wanted. Selfish and greedy, he kept her hanging when he should have put an end to it long ago. She may not be aware of it, but he owed her for the cruel game he’d embroiled them both in. Her commitment to her career wasn’t entirely responsible for her confusion, nor was the loss of her sense of self. A good portion of the fault belonged to him.
As he watched Spence pour his heart out to Jessi through the words of the song, the acid burn of possessive jealousy tore at the lining of Max’s stomach. The street in him demanded he stake a claim, take what she offered so sweetly while he had the chance, but she deserved more. So much more.
He’d been given the chance to make things right. Before the bastard threatening her was caught, he’d help her see herself for the incredible woman she was and put an end to their mutual torment once and for all.
Chapter 10
The private charter for Dallas took off mid-morning the next day. Max tucked Jessi into one of the reclining leather seats and suggested she rest through the three hour and fifteen minute flight. She might have pulled herself together after the meltdown he’d witnessed that first night, but the signs of stress were beginning to show elsewhere. Though he’d seen no evidence of another migraine, she wasn’t sleeping. When they’d returned home to his condo following last night’s show and after party, he’d expected her to crash from sheer exhaustion but, once again, she’d wandered the floors like a ghost until almost dawn. By his estimation, she’d had less than ten hours of shuteye in the three nights she’d spent in his guest room.
He wasn’t sure if anyone else saw the signs of her fatigue, but it was only a matter of time before they did.
Concealer only worked so well.
At the stadium, they were met by Bill Stein, the event’s coordinator. With Dallas vying for a playoff spot in Green Bay tomorrow, football took a temporary back seat to country music for the hometown crowd. According to Tim, forty thousand fans would soon fill the seats in front of the field-wide stage on the forty yard-line. With the doors opening in less than an hour, the road crew put the finishing touches on the set up while Jessi and Spence ran through a sound check with one of their most popular songs.
Max glanced around, bristling at the amount of people coming and going in the busy sports complex. He spotted both members of Ryan’s security team amongst the crew, but he still didn’t like the setup. The place was crawling with strangers, all of whom seemed to have a legitimate reason for being there, but who knew? Guilt chewed at his stomach lining. This business of keeping Jessi in the dark where it came to her security was not only dishonest, it was dangerous.
Unfortunately, the hand had been dealt, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t improvise a little. Claiming curiosity, he gave Jessi’s dressing room a thorough inspection before he left her alone with Alicia to prepare for the press conference Tim had called and the following performance.
Parked like a guard outside her door, Max leaned against the wall and forced himself to relax. Although the need pissed him off, the press conference was necessary. He’d been photographed with Jessi last night and would be again before they were done. The last thing he wanted to do was stand before the media’s cameras and answer questions, but he knew from experience, with the press, a pre-emptive offense was the best defense. Besides, Jessi was a singer, not a politician or financier. The reporters attending today’s presser were all from the entertainment industry. They’d be more interested in where he’d spent his last vacation than his family connections.
With the warm-up band already playing, backstage was a beehive of activity. He catalogued the passersby. No one gave him a second glance until a man in a business suit and wingtips approached. In his early sixties with a narrow face and slicked back, thinning, gray hair, he moved with confidence. He stopped before Max and eyed Jessi’s name on the temporary placard beside the door
“Is Miss Tucker here?”
Max rolled his shoulders away from the wall and straightened. “She’s getting ready for the show. What can I do for you?”
He hesitated for a moment and briefly glanced over his shoulder. Max stiffened as he reached inside his suit jacket. His entire body went on alert when the man’s hand emerged clutching a plain white envelope.
“I need to deliver this to her.”
Jesus, could it be this easy? Was her stalker stupid enough to deliver his threats in person with witnesses all around? Max held out his hand. “What is it? I’ll give it to her.” And if it contains a block-lettered threat, you’re going to need a hospital before the police drag you away, asshole.
“I need to see she gets it personally.”
Max snatched the envelope from his fingers. “I’ll bet you do.”
“Excuse me, but I….”
Max slid a finger beneath the seal as Tim rounded a corner with Bill Stein at his side. Jessi’s cousin wore a smile that faded immediately when his gaze locked on Max.
“Mr. Watson.” At Bill’s anxious greeting, the guy in the suit turned his head. Bill’s smile held an apology. “Security said you’d come back alone. I apologize for not being on hand to meet you.”
Shit. Max’s fingers stilled in the act of pulling the contents f
rom the envelope.
“Not a problem.” Watson shook the coordinator’s hand and turned back to Max with what looked like a genuine smile. “Miss Tucker’s bodyguard was just checking my credentials.”
Max ignored the flat-out lie and Tim’s raised brows, then dropped his gaze to the top sheet of the papers he’d pulled from the envelope. His bunched shoulder muscles loosened as he spotted the “Wishes Foundation” letterhead and he scanned the second page, a letter written in a child’s uneven script.
Fuck. Jessi isn’t the only one on edge. The smiling philanthropist is lucky I didn’t deck him first and ask questions later.
Max tucked the sheets back into the envelope and held them out, accepting the man’s generous cover for his rude behavior even though he didn’t deserve the kindness. “Your credentials are impeccable, Mr. Watson. Sorry for the delay.”
The older man nodded but didn’t take the envelope. “Completely understandable, son. These days, it pays to be careful.” He turned to Bill. “My wife and granddaughters came along with me today. They’re big fans, but I know how hectic things can be before a show. They’re waiting in our seats.” He dipped his chin toward the envelope in Max’s hand. “You’ll see she gets those?”
Tim stepped in to do damage control. “I’m Tim Tucker, Mr. Watson. Jessi’s manager. I’ll deliver them to my cousin myself, and if you’ll bring your wife and granddaughters backstage when Jessi is finished, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to meet them.”
Watson smiled and shook Tim’s hand. “That’s kind of you, and I’ll take you up on the offer.”
“I’ll see you to your seat.” Bill shot Tim a stressed out wince before hurrying to catch up to Watson.
Max pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I wonder if the guy knows how close he came to ending up in traction.”
To Win Her Heart (Players) Page 10