“They said they would look into it, but worst case is they can close off the gym while you’re in there to give you privacy.” She continues, “I suggested it also for the duration of the trip.”
“Cassie, cancel that request please. I don’t mind working out in the hotel gym, and also, I’m more than okay if other people come in and use the gym. I’m in there so early, and no one is usually up.” I look at her, getting a touch annoyed with the way she just went over my head. We step out of the elevator and make our way down the hallway, seeing that the doors to five rooms are open, and the beds and furniture have been emptied out of each room. In their place now are two chairs facing each other, and a camera is set up to tape us. In the corner of each room is a desk where someone can sit and a table of refreshments.
Yolanda approaches me right away. She is wearing blue pants and a white top, and a headset on her head with the mic to her mouth. “Perfect timing,” she says and then presses the button on her headset. “Mr. Beckett has arrived,” she says in the mouthpiece, informing whoever that I have arrived.
“You will be starting in room one,” Yolanda says, guiding me to the first open door. I peek in and see it’s Jonathan. “Each interview will be about fifteen minutes, give or take. Depending on how we are doing for time.”
“That’s fine.” I smile at her and walk into the room. When Jonathan sees me, he stands. I walk over to him but turn to hand Cassie my cell phone. She grabs it and tosses it into her purse, then goes to sit in the corner of the room. I shake Jonathan’s hand, and the interview gets under way. We are getting through the questions at a good pace when I finally see Jessica in the corner of the room. Her white pants with a black stripe fit her perfectly; the black sweater she is wearing with the sleeves pushed up. The black sky-high heels make her lean legs even longer. She stands with her phone to her ear, talking in hush tones to respect that other journalists are interviewing me.
“Seriously,” Cassie says, raising her voice. Jessica’s head snaps up. “If you don’t have time for this, we will skip this interview.”
Jessica’s back goes up straight. “Stephanie, I have to call you back,” she says and listens to something she says. “Run the story.” She pulls the phone away from her ear.
“You’re twenty-five minutes late,” she says to Cassie and then looks at me, then back at Cassie. “It’s your job to make sure he gets here on time, and you didn’t, so if you want to throw a hissy fit, I can tell you right now it’s not going to go well. I sat in that chair and waited, never once annoyed that he was late, never once huffing and puffing. And then you come in here with this? Seriously bullshit,” she says, closing the distance between them, and now I see Cassie stand straight also. “Since day one, I have kept quiet about you and your lack of respect, but when you come in and try to jeopardize my job, that’s where I draw the line. Yolanda, Yamina!” she yells, and I look out into the hallway to see that some of the heads have turned to look this way.
Yolanda comes in with a smile on her face followed by Yamina, whose smile quickly fades when she sees we are all standing here, ready for battle. “This interview is over, but it never began,” she says, walking to her bag and throwing her phone into her purse. “He showed up twenty-five minutes late, which I was fine with, but then his assistant had an issue with me taking a work call while I waited for her to get her shit together and get her boss to where he was supposed to be.”
“Jessica,” I say. Her head flies to me, but when I see the anger in her eyes, I stop.
“Hopefully, this stunt gets me a one-way ticket home,” she says and then looks at Cassie. “But if you think that you scare me, you have another thing coming.” She turns and walks out of the room. Yamina looks at me and then at Cassie, who just rolls her eyes.
“I believe this,” Cassie starts to say, putting her hands out, “means she’s going home, right?”
“Um,” Yolanda says, and then looks at Yamina. “We will have to let Ryan know.”
“No,” I say loudly. Yamina and Yolanda both look at me. “If you can give us a minute,” I say, and they both nod and walk out, closing the door. I wait a couple of minutes and look at her. “What the fuck was that?”
She crosses her arms over her chest and rolls her eyes. “Seriously, you are not going to say that you weren’t annoyed with her.”
“Cassie, she didn’t do anything. She has been on her best behavior since we left. She hasn’t tried to fuck with me; she hasn’t tried to smear me or ask me anything that she shouldn’t have. We had a conversation this morning, calling a truce,” I tell her. I’m pissed as fuck she went over my head, and she was disrespectful. There is one thing I don’t do, and it’s disrespect.
“Well, how was I supposed to know?” she tells me. “You didn’t tell me anything.”
“It didn’t have anything to do with you or your job,” I tell her, putting my hands in my back pockets. “I took care of it.”
She doesn’t have a chance to answer because there is a knock on the door, and Yamina walks in. “Um, Tyler, Ryan is on the phone,” she says, holding out her phone. She looks at me, then Cassie, and then at the floor.
I grab the phone, placing it to my ear. “Hello?”
“You want to tell me why I just got a phone call from Stephanie pulling Jessica out of this tour?” he hisses. “The only reputable fucking journalist out there, and she is going.”
“There was a misunderstanding,” I say, turning and walking more into the room so no one hears the conversation. “I will go and talk to her.”
“You better do something,” Ryan says. “You know she’s been gone from LA for what, three days, maybe four, and she had two scoops that came out. Two. She beat all the other reporters by thirty minutes. Two.”
“I know,” I say, closing my eyes and grabbing the bridge of my nose.
“Take care of this,” he says, and he hangs up. I turn and hand Yamina back her phone.
“How many interviews do I have left?” I ask her, and she shakes her head.
“That was your last one,” she says, and I nod, walking out of the room. Then I turn back and go back in.
“I need her room number,” I ask them, and Yolanda tells me. I walk toward the elevator and press the button. I hate drama, I hate being involved with drama, and I hate being around it. I step into the elevator, and I’m pissed, I’m angry, and I’m livid. I’m all the fucking words. When the elevator doors open, I walk to her hotel door, and I hear her voice come through the door.
“Stephanie, I don’t think you understand what you’re asking me.” I know I’m eavesdropping, but I want to hear what she says. “I don’t care if he’s the hottest guy in the world.” I smile, a weird feeling blooming in my chest when I hear her say that. “Fine, he’s hot, but he’s also an asshole, and his assistant is worse than the wicked witch. I’m searching for a flight now. Let me know what Ryan says.”
When I don’t hear her talking anymore, I knock on the door, and I hear the handle turn and the click of the door. She stands there with her hair piled on top of her head. Her phone is still in her hand, showing her screen saver. “What do you want?” she asks. I look at her, and something almost shifts, but I don’t know what it is. “Um, hello?” she says again, and I snap out of it.
“Can I have a minute of your time?” I walk toward her, causing her to move out of the way so I can enter her room. Her room is much smaller than my suite, and her suitcase lays open on her bed with her toiletry bag on the top. Her laptop is open beside it, and I can see she was looking for flights. I turn and look at her still standing by the door with the handle in her hand. She closes the door.
“Sixty seconds, Tyler, so make it count,” she says, folding her arms over her chest.
“I think there was a little bit of a misunderstanding,” I start, and her eyes go wide.
“No, there was no misunderstanding. Your pit bull launched and attacked me. I’m done with her and her shitty comments, her shitty attitude, and her trying to s
trong-arm me. I don’t want you,” she says, and I look at her, seeing the little vein in her neck start to come out. “I don’t want anything to do with you. She can have you all to herself.”
“Cassie and I are strictly professional. She’s been with me since the beginning,” I tell her and watch as she rolls her eyes, “but she was totally out of line.”
“You think?” she retorts. “I’ve said it before, but it warrants repeating. She needs to be medicated.”
I laugh when she says that it’s the second time she’s mentioned that to me. “Why are you even here?” she asks me, and then continues talking. “This is just what you’ve wanted from the beginning. You’ve wanted me to be off this tour.” She throws her hands up. “Well, I admit defeat. You won; I lost. Tyler-1; Jessica-0.”
“She was out of line, and I guarantee that from here on out, I, as well as Cassie, will be on our best behavior.”
“Oh, please, you know damn freaking straight she doesn’t know what best behavior means,” she says, and I want to argue with her. “I’ll stay,” she says and then a smile comes across her face, “but if I stay, she isn’t in that fucking room when we have our interview. She doesn’t step foot in the room, not even to bring you a bottle of water or to fan you off while you talk.”
I throw my head back, having the vision in my head. “She isn’t that bad.”
“What do you say, Tyler?” she asks. “Do we have a deal, or am I headed home?”
I shake my head. “Fine,” I agree. “After all, it’s only fifteen minutes.”
“I don’t know you really well, but I’m sure you can go fifteen minutes without her,” she says, and I nod my head. “I’m holding firm on this one.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Actually, rephrase that, I’m demanding that unless it has to do with the schedule or her job, I don’t want her to speak to me. Not one single word.”
“Fine. With you, she won’t be there, and I’ll make sure she doesn’t have anything to do with you,” I agree, “so you’ll stay.”
“Listen, Tyler, I’m going to be really honest with you right now. We both know that we don’t like each other, and we both know that we didn’t want to be here, but we sort of made a truce. So I have to remind you that,” she says, “I’m making an effort here, even if it doesn’t feel like it.” I don’t say anything; I just nod my head. “Off the record,” she says, and I look at her in confusion. “I want to tell you something off the record, and I won’t do it unless you say you agree.”
“What if I agree and then break my word?” I ask her, and she looks at me.
“Then I run the story that’s waiting to be told,” she says, and I look at her, pretty sure I’m glaring. “Sources are saying you have a kid.”
I shake my head. “For fuck’s sake.”
“That’s what I said,” she says. “I don’t believe it.”
“What?” It’s my turn now, confused by this whole thing and pissed off that this shit is going around.
“Well, you see, I know you’re an asshole,” she says. I want to laugh at her bluntness, but I don’t. “But I don’t think you’d be that much of an asshole to not claim your own kid.”
“You’re damn fucking straight,” I tell her, and it’s the truth. If I had a kid out there, there is no way I would deny them.
“Exactly, so when this ‘source’ came to me, I found it fishy. I also found the timing of this story fishy,” she says. “Anyway, I ignored her once, twice, and then the third time, I squashed the story.”
“Thank you.” Not sure why I’m thanking her, but I just feel the need to say it.
“Don’t thank me.” Shaking her head again, she says, “It was a shit story, and nothing could be verified. I knew right away the story came from someone on the inside. The question is why did someone from your camp try to fuck me over?”
I shake my head now. “Impossible. Everyone who is with me is loyal to a T.”
Smirking, she shakes her head. “If you say so, but I’d double check.”
“I will.” Ready to storm out, I grab the door handle, open the door, and then walk out, but then turn back. “What’s this going to cost me?”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “I’ll let you know when I’m cashing it in.” I nod to her and leave the room before I do or say something stupid. Like rip that bun off the top of her head and fist her hair while I see if her lip gloss tastes like cherries. I press the button to the elevator one time, two, three, and don’t stop pressing it till I hear the ding. I go to grab my phone. “Fuck,” I hiss when I realize Cassie has it. I make my way up to my suite, scanning the card and walking in. Cassie sits at the table with her computer open, her eyes coming to me when she hears me.
“We have a problem,” I say, tossing my card down on the table and going to grab a bottle of water. I look at Cassie who leans back in her chair, waiting for me to tell her something. “Someone tried to leak a false story.” Walking to the window, I look out at the skyline. The sun shines in the sky, making the buildings glisten like diamonds.
“What do you mean?” she asks me. I turn to see that she is sitting up straight with her hands on the table in front of her.
“Called in a fake story about me having a kid,” I say, looking back out again. “They called Jessica directly two days ago.”
“And she didn’t run the story?” She pffts. “I call bullshit. She’s playing you.”
I bite down so hard on my teeth, I’m surprised they don’t shatter. “What fucking reason would she have to play me?” I hiss. “The fact is, someone called her with a bullshit story. I believe the question is who leaked it.”
“Does it even matter?” Cassie asks. “They called, but she knew it was a lie and didn’t run the story.”
“It matters because if you’re on my team, I have to trust you, and if I can’t trust you”—I shake my head—“then you have to go.”
Cassie takes a big breath. “Fine. I’ll ask around, put out some fake stories and see if they get leaked. What else did she say?”
I look at her while I say what needs to happen. “She said she’d stay, but she had a request.” Cassie’s eyes narrow, and the glare comes out. “You aren’t allowed in the room when she interviews me.” And the glare gets stronger. “Actually, unless it has to do with the tour, you aren’t allowed to talk to her.”
“Bullshit,” Cassie says, getting up and seeing that I’m not saying anything. Usually, I would be on her side, but she crossed the line for no reason. She must feel this isn’t a fight she will win because she just throws her hands up. “Fine. Whatever.”
“Thank you,” I tell her. “I need my phone. I have to call my parents and check in.” She grabs her purse and looks inside, fishing the phone out. “What time do I have to be ready?” I ask, grabbing the phone and seeing that I have a couple of missed calls.
“Six thirty,” Cassie says. Getting up, she slaps her computer closed and turns to walk out of the room. “I’ll be here at six twenty-five. Your suit is hanging in your closet, and you’re walking the red carpet with Jonathan tonight.”
“Thanks,” I tell her and open my emails and see that two came in. Both have been read already, and I double read them. I also call my mother, and she goes on and on about the glam day that Cassie told her about. I have enough time to sit for ten minutes before it’s time for me to get ready. I’m shrugging on my suit jacket when I hear the front door open. I make sure my three-piece gray suit is put on right, then walk out and see Cassie is dressed in a gray and black dress with black heels.
“Oh, very chic,” she says to me, and I look at her. Her black hair is curled perfectly, and her makeup again is perfectly done. “Now, let’s go.”
I nod at her, grabbing my phone and sliding it into my inside suit jacket pocket. We make it down to the lobby, and I see that Jonathan is the only one there waiting. “Where is everybody?” I ask, looking around.
“They take a shuttle there to set up, and your car is waiting at the front,” Cas
sie says. “Let’s go, boys.” She smiles and walks in front of us.
“This is a little weird,” Jonathan says, laughing. “I feel like I’m going to prom.”
“Relax,” I tell him, slapping him on the shoulder. “I won’t try to have sex with you.” We both laugh, and I get into the car and get ready for the first stop. Only nine more to go.
Chapter Ten
Jessica
Tyler Beckett’s first official stop is under way. Fans lined up overnight just to get a glimpse of him.
“The number you have dialed is not in service. Please check the number and try your call again.”
I fucking knew it. I knew in my gut this story was bullshit. The day after I took off, I got a suspicious email. I wouldn’t answer or ask any questions unless I got the person on the phone. We had one conversation that lasted fifteen minutes, and after one minute, I knew she was lying. Her story just didn’t add up, so I called Stephanie and told her I wasn’t submitting the story, and then Tyler and Cassie walked into the room I was waiting in to interview him. The whole thing was a mess this morning. I was ushered from one room to another, and my interview time was changed twice.
I was frustrated that I was being played, and I was semi-aggravated that I have been twiddling my thumbs for the past twenty-five minutes while he did other interviews, so I snapped. I always knew Cassie was a bitch, and it was only a matter of time before it actually came to light, but it took two days. At least with me. She is fine with the others. Then she made that snide remark after I was done.
It took five seconds to call Stephanie and tell her what happened and another five for her to call Ryan. By the time I got to my room, pulled the suitcase on top of the bed, and booted the computer to book a flight home, there was a knock on the door. What I didn’t expect was Tyler to come to my room and ask me to stay, actually apologizing for Cassie’s behavior. I accepted it although I knew he didn’t have to do it, but I also made my request. I didn’t think he would go for it, but he did.
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