So Happy Together (Bishop Family Book 4)

by Brooke St. James

  "He's fine," she said.

  "Fine like he'll be at the show tonight?" I asked.

  She smiled. "No, but fine like they're gonna figure it out. Fine like you shouldn't be worrying about it. You've got three shows to go. Let's just chill and focus on finishing them up."

  "Who's gonna work security?" I asked.

  "She's up if you wanna head down there and get coffee. A grande latte with one pump of simple syrup." Denise had turned to talk to Vick for a second before looking at me again. She sighed. "We contacted Trevor's firm and asked for a sub. They sent a guy named Daniel. He's here. I met him a few minutes ago. He seems like he knows what he's doing. He's a lot like Trevor except quieter."

  Denise began to open the curtains in my room, and when she did, light spilled in and caused me to squint.

  "How'd you sleep?" she asked.

  "Okay," I said. "I'm nauseated."

  "You're nauseated everyday," she returned, meaning it as an encouragement.

  "I know, but I'm extra nauseated today. I was up last night worrying about Trevor. I wonder what's wrong with him."

  "You can't worry about that. He's going to be fine. You just have to try to forget about it and get through these last three shows."

  I glanced at the clock by my bedside. I had already looked at it, but for some reason the time hadn't registered. I sat up, stretching and yawning when I realized it was almost 8:30. Denise walked around my room, absentmindedly straightening things up.

  "You need to hop up. Nina and Jake are here to get you dressed and do your hair and makeup. We have to leave in about an hour."

  I groaned as I stood up, feeling like I wanted nothing more than to lay in bed for the next month.

  "Come on," she said. "Vick will be back in a minute with coffee."

  "I need a shower," I said. I lifted my arm and gave my armpit a sniff, trying to decipher whether or not I could get by without taking one. "I woke up sweating a bunch last night, "I said.

  Denise patted me on the back. "You're just worried about Trevor, but he'll be fine, I promise. I'm sure it's just the flu. We were all exhausted after the East Coast. We just have to push through these last few dates."

  This type of encouragement was commonplace in my hotel rooms. I was great once we got to the venue, but my nights were predictably rough, and I often needed encouragement to get out of bed. Truth be told, I was not built for life on the road. I loved making music in the studio, but I honestly didn't love the pressures of touring—at least not at the sold-out arena level.

  At first, it was a rush to hear people in the audience screaming for me, but the physical symptoms I experienced as a result of the pressure outweighed that rush a long time ago. I suffered from stomach issues that never seemed to resolve in spite of the fact that I had been performing at this level for the last seven years of my life. Touring made me physically ill, but I pushed through it because going on the road was the primary way musicians made a living.

  It wasn't only my living at stake either, but literally hundreds of people (including Denise, Vick, Trevor, Nina, Jake, and all of my dancers, band, and stage crew). They were all counting on me to earn an income. If it were just about me, I would have most assuredly quit touring years ago. I was good at saving money, and I had earned enough of it in my career to retire.

  Vick was already there with my coffee by the time I got out of the shower and joined Denise and the others in the living room. She thrust the paper cup into my hand as soon as I entered the room. She did it in a rushed way that let me know they had been waiting on me and I should go ahead and sit down in the stylist's chair.

  Nina was busy fiddling with setting up her make up station, and Jake was straightening the clothing selections that were hanging on the rack near the chair. Everything seemed to be in order except for the two new faces in the room—one of which I assumed was Trevor's replacement.

  "Court, this is Daniel from Alpha Security and his little sister, Ivy." Denise said.

  Daniel smiled and gave me a little wave. He was a strikingly handsome man whose presence made me sit up a little straighter. He was thick, but not in a beefy, bodyguard way. He had dark features, was tall with broad shoulders, and had a relaxed, easy manner. He wore casual smile, but the girl she described as his little sister would barely look at me. She seemed shy and nervous, but she managed to give me a slight smile when she saw that I was looking at her.

  "Daniel and Ivy were on vacation at Disney when he got the call to come sub for Trevor," Jake explained. He walked over to the girl and patted her on the back as I got settled in my chair and took a sip of my coffee. "We ran into them downstairs, and she's just the sweetest little thing," Jake continued as if taking up for the girl. "She was planning on staying in her hotel room all day today while her brother was busy with you, but I told her she could hang out with me and Nina—be our little apprentice."

  I glanced at the girl again, and she smiled shyly like she was trying not to inconvenience me.

  "Aren't you a little old for Disney?" I asked, teasing her.

  "She had a gymnastics tournament at their sports complex," Daniel said, taking up for his little sister.

  His comment made me glance at him.

  "I was just messing with her anyway," I said. "You're never too old for Disney."

  Nina draped a cape around my neck and instantly went to work on my hair.

  "We didn't go to the theme park," Ivy said. "We just went to the competition and then came straight here." Ivy glanced at her brother before lowering her gaze as if assuming that she should remain quiet.

  "How did you do at the competition?" I asked.

  "I got third place with my floor routine," she said.

  "That must have been pretty exciting," I said.

  She nodded. "It was for me," she said. "A couple of the other girls on my team placed higher in different events, but I was happy to get a medal at all—especially at such a big meet."

  "I love watching gymnastics," I said as Nina continued fussing over my hair. "But the only time I ever get to watch it is when the Olympics are on."

  Jake and Nina both agreed that they also enjoyed it and only ever watched it during the Olympics.

  "I'm not going to do it in college or anything," Ivy said.

  "What are you going to do?" I asked.

  "I haven't really figured it out. My family owns a motorcycle shop, so I'll probably just work for them until I decide."

  "Motorcycles, huh?" I asked, raising my eyebrows with an impressed smile. I glanced at her brother who wore a serious expression like he wasn't quite sure what to think about his little sister chatting it up with me. "Do you ride a motorcycle?" I asked, looking directly at him.

  "No," he said seriously.

  "Their last name is Bishop," Jake said. "Daniel and Ivy Bishop. Their grandfather is the guy who started the Bishop Motorcycle Company."

  "Are you serious?" I asked.

  The girl smiled and nodded, but I focused on her brother who was just sitting there taking everything in. "And you don't ride?" I asked him.

  "No ma'am, I don't." he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

  "Why not?" I asked.

  He gave me a little shrug while maintaining a serious demeanor. "I just don't want to," he said.

  "Did you ever hear of a blues singer named Ivy Bishop?" Jake asked.

  "Yes," I said. I glanced at the girl who had already been introduced as Ivy. I felt somewhat confused since I thought the blues singer in question was popular in the sixties. "Were you named after her or something?"

  She nodded. "She's my grandma," Ivy said.

  "So, the singer is the same Bishop as the motorcycles?" I asked, feeling a little perplexed.

  Jake let out a laugh. "That's the same thing I asked when she told me," he said. "Can you believe it? Same people."

  I looked at Daniel, wishing he would add something to the conversation, but he just sat there, surveying the scene.

  "Are you telling me that the blues
singer, Ivy Bishop, also started a motorcycle company?" I asked.

  "It was my grandpa, Michael, who started the motorcycle business." Ivy said.

  "And you don't ride one?" I asked, looking at them with a doubtful expression.

  "I do," Ivy said. "It's just Daniel who doesn't. I got my first motorcycle before I even got a car."

  I glanced at Daniel who seemed content to sit there and not say a word. He certainly was quiet. He was being too professional if you asked me. I wanted him to talk to me the way his sister was doing.

  "And what do you do?" I asked him.

  "I work at Alpha Security," he answered simply. He wasn't trying to be rude, but his direct answer made me feel like I had asked an obvious question.

  I squinted at him. "What do you do for fun?" I asked.

  "I'm not much on fun," he said. He offered me the slightest hint of a smile, but I could tell there was an underlying seriousness to his answer.

  I glanced at his sister who nodded at me. "He's being serious," she said. "But he's sweet. He'd give you the shirt off his back."

  "I guess the world needs more people who would do that," I said, "Even if they don't like having fun."

  Denise had been engaged in a conversation with Jake during this part of the exchange, but they must have tuned in because Jake said, "I don't know anyone who doesn't like to have fun!"

  "Me neither," I said, teasing Daniel.

  "Who in the world doesn't like to have fun?" Denise asked, obviously missing what we had just said.

  I glanced at Ivy, expecting her to chime in, but she just glanced at her brother with a sweet half smile.

  I barely knew them and I liked them already. I could tell they cared about each other, and I could see simply by the expression on their faces that they had one another's backs. It was moments like these when I wished I wasn't an only child.

  Chapter 3

  I had an absolutely crazy day in Miami.

  I had two television interviews followed by a radio interview and a photo shoot. Normally, I was able to squeeze in an hour or two of down time before I had to make my way to the arena for sound check, but that wasn't the case in Miami. My whole afternoon was go, go, go, and the next thing I knew, I was getting hair and makeup done for the show.

  I missed having my right-hand man, Trevor, by my side, but Daniel Bishop had done an excellent job filling in for him. He was courteous, protective, and all the things that Trevor was. The only difference was that Daniel was extremely quiet and didn't seem impressed by me at all.

  He wasn't impolite, but he certainly didn't go out of his way to make me feel like I had hung the moon (which was somehow simultaneously refreshing and heartbreaking). He was so stoic that multiple times throughout the day I had caught myself being goofy and trying to make him smile just because I wanted to see him do it like one of those British soldiers. He would offer me a courtesy grin, but it was obvious that he was there to do the job of protecting me rather than being distracted with becoming my friend.

  We were at the arena for about seven hours. The actual show didn't last that long, of course, but a lot went into it, and I was always really exhausted by the time we left. My set list for this tour had twenty-two songs with four wardrobe changes, and I poured every last ounce of energy I had into it. The show had been over for an hour by the time we left the arena, and fans were still standing by the loading dock, waiting to catch a glimpse of me getting into the limo. I could tell Daniel and Trevor had been trained by the same people because Daniel handled the situation just like Trevor would have done, ushering me into the back of the car with quick precision.

  He and I were the only two in the back seat on the trip from the arena to the hotel, and I stared straight ahead replaying moments of the concert and thinking about things I should have done differently.

  Daniel's hand was resting on his thigh, and I glanced down at it, feeling an odd sense of longing and maybe a little attraction toward him. In my tired haze, I began to compare him to Trevor, and I wondered why I was attracted to him when I had never felt that way toward Trevor.

  I stared at his hand. If he were Trevor, he would've put his arm around me instead of keeping it to himself. Longing for the touch and reassurance that Trevor normally provided after a show, I leaned over and rested my head on Daniel's shoulder.

  "The show went well," he said.

  He smelled different than Trevor. Trevor always smelled like cologne, whereas Daniel smelled masculine and woodsy, but in a more natural way—it was almost like I had to get right next to him to even tell that he smelled at all. Once I did, I found out that it was really worth it.

  "Thank you," I said. "Where's your sister?"

  "With Nina," he said.

  "Did they go back to the hotel?"

  "Yes."

  "I think she had fun backstage," I said, hoping I could make him say more than two words to me if I continued talking about his sister.

  "She did."

  He sat up and shifted, glancing out of the back window, checking our surroundings and making sure we weren't being followed.

  "Did you like the show?" I asked.

  "Yes ma'am."

  A few seconds of silence passed.

  "Why didn't you tell me that?"

  "I did," he said.

  "No, you didn't."

  "I'm sorry. I don't think I understand what you're saying."

  "You said the show went well, but you didn't say that you liked it."

  "I thought that was the same thing."

  "No, it's not."

  "Well, I liked it," he said.

  "Why do you seem so unimpressed?"

  "I'm not unimpressed, I'm just trying to do my job—keep you safe. I didn't think you were interested in my opinion. I did like it. You did a good job. I liked how you got everybody pumped up backstage before the show. I've never seen anybody do that."

  "Did you like the gold outfit?" I asked.

  I regretted it the instant came out of my mouth. I knew it made me sound desperate. The gold outfit I was referring to was a barely-there sequin number, which all the guys seemed to love on account of how little of my skin it covered. I only brought it up because I was desperate to get a rise out of him and I didn't know how else to do it. I had been trying in different, more subtle ways all day with no success, so the comment about the gold outfit was sort of a last-ditch effort.

  "That was my least favorite outfit, if you want to know the truth."

  His words caused a stabbing sensation in my chest, and I cringed inwardly at the feeling of rejection.

  "Thanks a lot," I said sarcastically.

  "I'm not trying to be mean, it's just that outfits like that cause men feel a certain way, and from a security standpoint, those are the types of feelings I like to avoid."

  He used the opportunity to glance out the window again as if to prove his point. "Men already feel that way about you, even when you're all covered up with clothes."

  "So, you're saying they don't need the encouragement of the gold outfit?" I asked.

  "No, they don't."

  "What about you?"

  "What about me?"

  "How do you feel about me?"

  "You're a beautiful woman."

  "Are you married?" I asked.

  "No."

  "I didn't see a ring, but I thought you must be married because of what a gentleman you are."

  He didn't say anything after that. I didn't ask him any more questions, but I thought he would make small talk like Trevor, and he didn't. I laid my head on his shoulder and we rode in silence for a few minutes until we finally pulled up at the hotel.

  Daniel put his arm around me and walked me inside in the practiced way of a true professional. We were the only two in the elevator as we rode upstairs.

  "I've got a room right next to yours," he said. "Denise said I could stay in your suite since Trevor had a bedroom in there, but I've got Ivy with me, and we're already settled in our room. Denise wrote my number down so
you would have it. I have a key to your suite. Just give me a call if you need anything tonight."

  "Nina and them are coming up to my room to hang out for a little while before we go to bed," I said. "I told your sister she could come by."

  "That was nice of you, but she's too young for that."

  "What do you mean, she's too young?"

  "She's not of age. She can't be partying."

  I felt offended by his words, like he thought I was some drug addict and he didn't want his little sister hanging around me.

  "We're not partying," I said. "We're just hanging out and talking and decompressing for a little while because otherwise it's hard for me to go to sleep."

  He glanced at me, and his expression softened when he saw that I was a little offended. "I'm sure she would really love to hang out," he said. "Thank you for including her."

  Daniel came into my room before he went to his own. He swept the place more thoroughly than Trevor ever did, looking under beds, in closets, on the patio, and even on the rooftop access by the pool. It took him ten minutes. "I'll be right next door," he said when he was satisfied that the place was safe.

  I smiled. "Thank you," I said. "You did a good job even though you're not quite Trevor."

  He smiled at that. "Thank you."

  ***

  It was customary after every show for a few people to come to my room to hang out and talk or watch TV. We never talked about the performance—we just hung out and pretended like we were normal people who weren't in a different city every night.

  I was happy that Ivy had come that evening, and not just because she was a nice girl. It was also because I was intrigued by Daniel and secretly wanted to get more information about him.

  Miami was a beautiful city, and the panoramic view of the Atlantic Ocean from my penthouse suite was breathtaking, even at night. It was hot out, so everyone was hanging out in the living room, but Ivy went onto the patio, and after a minute, I followed her. She was looking down at her phone when I came outside, and she quickly put it in her pocket before turning to smile at me.

  "I didn't mean to interrupt you," I said.