When I got off the bus, I almost thought I was at the wrong place. The name above the beige-and-brown chateau-style building was right, but the long line of half-naked girls waiting outside made it seem more like the street corner where I’d first met Rush.
“Is this where we check into the restaurant?” I asked a brunette in a leather bra and fishnet stockings as I stepped into line behind her.
“It’s where we wait for our turn to meet Warren Jinkins and Rush McMahon.”
I figured it was something like that. “Who’s Warren Jinkins?”
“You don’t know who War is?” Her brows rose as I shook my head. “The lead singer of Tempest. One of the baddest boys in rock music, and the hottest until Rush came along. He’s inside with his girlfriend, so he’s probably out for a possible hookup, but Rush is fair game. He chose three girls from a lineup at his hotel last night, if you believe the talk in his fan chat room.”
Rush had been with someone before me last night? Three other someones?
Foolish, Jewel. Getting your hopes up. Forgetting your paid-for role. Believing your night with him meant something.
“I wouldn’t waste my time, if that’s why you’re here.” Sizing me up in my jeans and tee, she blew and popped a pink bubble. “A guy like Rush would never pick you.”
“Why’s that?” I asked as she gave voice to my fear.
“Your clothes, for one.” She squinted her thickly mascaraed eyes at me. “Your hair. Your flip-flops.” She ticked off item after item she found lacking. “You’re not even wearing makeup, are you?”
I was, though only a little mascara and lip gloss.
“You look all washed out. Like you just rolled out of bed and threw on some old clothes. Sorry, hon.” She patted my arm, obviously noting her harsh comments had hit their mark. “Just telling it like it is. Keeping it real.”
I thought of myself as a pretty laid-back person, but this chick pushed all my buttons. Narrowing my eyes, I said, “Real, meaning you’re being a bitch.”
Her jaw dropped open, and her gum tumbled out and hit the sidewalk.
Throwing her words back at her, I said, “That’s me telling it like it is. Keeping it real.” I took a step away from her.
She reminded me of the girls back home. Knowing what my mom did for a living, they’d never accepted me. Part of the reason I left was because I’d wanted to live in a place where no one had built-in biases against me.
“But I was only trying to help—”
“Untrue.” I lifted my chin. In my work clothes, I was better prepared for cruel treatment. Bringing my shield up, I fired back. “What you were trying to do was get rid of someone you saw as competition.”
I had more to say, but my words were drowned out by screams. I found myself swept forward in the line.
When the crowd parted and I saw Rush, the anticipation that had made me feel like an overloaded electrical socket all day returned. Underneath the portico to the building, he stood as tall and handsome as ever, wearing the black jacket from the night before, a tee, and faded jeans. His slate-gray eyes passed over me without recognition.
Hurt, I stopped, planting my feet to hold my position. The tide of women that he seemed to control surged around me and continued to flow to him.
Rush’s gaze moved back and his eyes went wide as he swept a slower glance over me. His lips lifting into an approving grin, he strode straight to me. He ignored the women in his way, touching him, calling his name, and snapping photos.
“Jewel,” he said, breathing out my name like I actually was a rare and precious gem. “You’re here. I’ve been watching from inside, but I didn’t see you.” Grabbing me by my upper arms, he pulled me into him, his gaze roaming my face and hair. “Red. I should have guessed.”
“Just brown with reddish highlights,” I said with a shrug.
“You’d argue with a post and insist it was a stick in the ground.” His grin widened. “The color of your hair is as complex as you are.”
He took my hand, placing it on his forearm, and tucked me into his side.
“Stay close.” He gave me a firm look, and that’s when I noticed we were surrounded. “We’re going inside.”
The crowd pushed and jostled us as we moved together as a unit. There were some bottlenecks. Some women shouted derogatory things at me, and some he had to turn his shoulder into to get by. But eventually, we made it inside. The quiet inside the foyer was startling after the chaos outside.
“Sorry about that.” He turned me to face him. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Good. I’m glad.”
“I could’ve made it inside by myself.” I glanced at the maître d’, who was watching us from behind his glossy black podium.
“You’re such a badass, you probably could have. But I wasn’t taking any chances.” Rush’s brow creased. “Listen, I gotta go and make nice with my boss. I’m late, and she’s guaranteed to be pissed. I’d introduce you, but I don’t want to subject you to that. Can you wait for me here?” He gestured to a bench that reminded me of a church pew.
“Sure.” I started toward it.
“Anything you need, you tell Jean.”
“Jean?” I asked.
“That’s me, mademoiselle.” The maître d’ looked up from his reservation book and lifted his finger.
“Okay, I will,” I told Rush. When he hesitated, I shooed him away. “Go on.”
“Don’t leave.”
I smiled. “I won’t. Promise.”
His approving nod told me my word meant something to him. I liked that, and was thrilled that he didn’t want me to leave.
After he disappeared, I sat down and took in my surroundings more carefully. But the red tile floors, the potted plants, and Jean making phone calls to remind dinner patrons of their reservation times didn’t hold my attention the way Rush did.
Dropping my gaze to my lap, I picked at the frayed threads over my right kneecap and wondered if he thought my outfit made me look washed out. He certainly had seemed pleased to see me, and he’d smiled after looking me over. That worry aside, I moved on to speculate about Rush and his boss.
“Excuse me.”
A woman’s voice interrupted my musings. I looked up to discover a beautiful blonde standing in front of me.
“Can I sit here?” She gestured to the empty spot beside me.
“Absolutely.” I nodded and scooted over to give her more room.
“Thanks.” Setting a pretty pink clutch on the bench beside her, she sat down and started bouncing her legs. “Oh, shooty-shoot.” She let out a long sigh.
“Is everything okay? It’s none of my business, but if there’s something I can do to help, I’d be happy to try. As long as it involves me staying here,” I said, remembering my vow to Rush. “I promised him I would stay right here.”
“You’re sweet.” Her brow scrunched. “I’m okay. Just impatient. This is taking longer than I expected.”
Something about her seemed familiar, but I couldn’t quite figure it out.
“Is the him your boyfriend?” she asked as I studied her.
“Not exactly.”
“Ah. You must be in the beginning stages, then. I could never accurately describe what War and I were to people at the start of our relationship.”
Rush and I didn’t have a relationship, but I didn’t correct her. I was too intrigued by the rest of what she’d shared. “You’re with Warren Jinkins?”
“Yes.” She wiggled her left hand, where an enormous diamond solitaire sparkled.
“You’re engaged to him?”
“Yes.” She smiled. “I’ve been dying to share with someone. He’s breaking the news to his boss now. Even though she’s in a chilly mood.”
Suddenly, I knew where I’d seen her before and who she was. “You’re Shaina Bentley from Pinky Swears.”
“Yes, I am.” She nodded. “Only I’m not really on the show anymore. It’s actually in syndication. I’ve gone on to doing movi
es.”
“Oh, well, I loved it. It was on one of the few channels my gran allowed me to watch when I lived with her.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Her brow crinkled again. “My manners are horrible. I should’ve introduced myself before. I’m Shaina. What’s your name?”
“Jewel. Jewel Anderson.”
“Nice to meet you, Jewel. And you’re here with . . .” Her eyes widened as she guessed. “Rush?”
I nodded and blushed as she did a double-take. “I know I’m not his usual type.” Or at least I wasn’t dressed like one now.
“Who told you that?”
“One of the women outside.”
“Those aren’t sisterhood supporters.”
“Yeah.” I snorted. “I got clued in when one slammed me for my appearance.”
“You look cute. Your earrings are boho. Your jeans fit nice. And your tee, well . . .” She smiled. “It’s different in an endearing way. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“My gran made it for me.” It was a little snug now. She’d given it to me when I was in high school, but there was no way I’d ever give it up.
“Sounds like she’s a wonderful grandmother.”
“She was.”
“Oh no. Is she gone?”
“Yes.” Tears filled my eyes.
“I’m sorry.” Shaina scooted closer, pulled out a travel packet of Kleenex from her clutch, and offered me one. “Here.”
“Thanks.” I sniffed, dabbing at my nose with the tissue she’d given me. “I’m okay.”
“I can see that you are. And I can also see that Rush is a lucky guy.” She gave me a firm nod as if it were decided. “I saw him in the other room with Mary. He kept glancing this way, because you’re here. And your attention keeps wandering his way too. It’s intense. I remember those days. Actually . . .” Her frosted-pink lips curled upward. “It’s still that way, to be honest. I think when it’s the right one, it always is. You just get better accustomed to dealing with those feelings.”
As she inclined her head to the room where Rush was, a handsome guy with dark brown hair and eyes only for my companion strode our way.
“Let’s roll, sweetness,” he said.
“Hold up.” Shaina stood and gestured to me. “Jewel Anderson, this is my fiancé, Warren Jinkins. She’s dating Rush.”
“I’m not.” I shook my head.
“She is,” Rush said as he walked up.
The two men exchanged a glance, then War grinned at me.
“Better go with it, babe. As the front man dictates, so it shall be. It’s in our DNA.” War gave me a chin lift that made me feel like I’d been accepted into some kind of inner circle, then turned his attention to his fiancée. “Shaina, as much as I’m enjoying meeting your new friend, I’m gonna have to pull you away. Your man needs some alone time with you.”
“All right.” She gave him a blinding smile, then turned to me. “Jewel, I’ve got a project in LA that’ll keep me here a while. If you need anything, if you want to talk about anything”—she directed a pointed glance at Rush and slipped a card into my hand—“you can call me. Anytime. That’s my private cell number, but don’t hesitate to use it.”
As she turned and slid her hand into War’s outstretched one, I noticed how many rings he wore, and how different the two of them appeared on the outside. She was dressed in a fussy pink couture skirt and jacket, and he was in a plain black tee and jeans. And yet as they walked away, they moved in unison as if they belonged together.
“I see you won over Shaina,” Rush said.
“I don’t know . . .”
“You did. I run into her whenever War is around. Tour stops. Events. That kind of thing. Never seen her give her private number to anyone. Her agent’s line? Yeah. Her cell? Never.”
“Oh. Well. Cool.” I kind of wished she would have stayed longer. I glanced at the hallway she and War had entered. It was empty now.
“My boss wants to meet you.”
“Come again?” I turned to Rush, my brows high.
“Let me put it this way. She thinks I’ll pay more attention to her if you’re beside me.”
“Oh.” My mouth rounded in surprise.
“Mary Timmons is the CEO of Black Cat Records and feels like she has to control everything. They call her the ice queen. There’s no warning sufficient for her, and I apologize in advance. You’ll soon see why.”
• • •
Rush
My hand firm on the small of her back, I steered Jewel through the crowded dining room toward my boss. Strangely, I breathed easy, though this wasn’t going to be a pleasant meeting. Not if it continued the way it had started.
“Hello.” Mary inclined her head to Jewel as she took her seat in the chair I pulled out for her.
“And you are?”
“Jewel Anderson.” Her gaze flicked to me as if to get direction for how to proceed.
The hell if I knew. I shrugged to convey my ineptitude as I returned to my original seat on the ice queen’s right.
“I believe I am the one speaking to you, young lady, not Rush.”
Jewel’s pretty eyes rounded. “My apologies.”
Damn, she was beautiful. Gorgeous coppery-brown hair cascading to her slim shoulders. Wide, expressive brows. Golden eyes. Light complexion. Minimal makeup that complemented her delicate features. Clothes that clung to her sexy shape, not fancy ones, but she looked comfortably unforgettable.
The night before, her wig and makeup had masked everything. Right now, all I wanted to do was bask in her glow and stare at her. And that desire was obviously something the boss lady had picked up on.
“Apology accepted.” Mary tilted her head. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
“Same.”
“That’s nice of you to say. I’m not sure what Rush has told you, or what the nature of your relationship is exactly, only that he seems to consider time in your company of higher value than my own.”
Whoa. Absolutely true.
“Given his distraction, I saw no harm in having you sit in with us on a discussion regarding my current displeasure with him. Perhaps you might be of some help for me with him in that regard.”
“I don’t know about a lot of what you said.” Jewel licked her lips, and even in this business setting, my cock jumped at the memory of how her mouth felt on me. “But I don’t think you should expect assistance from me when I don’t really know you at all, and my loyalty is to him.”
“Well said.” Mary tucked a strand of her short brown hair behind her ear, and her gaze narrowed. “I will say that I value loyalty among my close friends, and based on how you have conducted yourself thus far, I look forward to us getting to know each other better. However, for now . . .” She returned her determined gaze to me. “Back to the top item on my list. Your recently completed tour.”
She flipped open a file folder on the table beside her empty plate. After perusing rows of facts and figures I suspected she had memorized, she lifted her gray gaze and squinted disappointedly at me. “Do you know how much money we lost?”
“I have a fair idea.” Brad had kept me informed. “I told you before those dates were booked that my band needed a rest. Then after . . .” I paused, not sure how to proceed. Talking about my father with Jewel was one thing, but discussing his death with my boss was another.
“I’m not unsympathetic to the circumstances, Mr. McMahon. If I weren’t, I wouldn’t have asked to see you personally. I believe in you and your talent. These expenses can be offset by the revenue from your last album, which continues to perform quite well, despite the continuing deterioration of your reputation. But it could be better. You could do better.”
Sitting back in her chair, she tugged on her black suit jacket and steepled her fingers.
“I have some mandates and a couple of suggestions.” She peered at me over her hands. “Mandate one: No more public intoxication. Mandate two: No more negative outbursts in public. Mandate three: No wasting my studio t
ime.”
“I haven’t wasted—”
“You have. I’ve listened to every track personally, and they’re all subpar.”
Yikes. “Now, wait a minute—”
“No more waiting. From now on, you pay the studio expenses out of your own pocket, Mr. McMahon. I think once you do, you’ll quickly learn the value of being focused and on task when you bring in material to be produced.”
Damn. Nothing I said was going to help at this point, so I just kept my mouth shut. She nodded when I no longer protested.
“Now, on to suggestions.” She pulled in a breath, and I braced. “I suggest trashing everything and starting over.”
Mary had never held back on critiquing, but on the other hand, she usually approved of what I presented. Was every track for the new album that bad? I honestly wasn’t sure. I’d been pretty trashed when we recorded most of it.
“I think you need a new direction, and I suggest you dig deep to find it. In the past, you’ve relied heavily on an antiestablishment theme. It’s a popular message but not very original. It’s not where you were at the beginning of your career, and quite frankly, I don’t really believe it’s where you are now. In other words, your heart’s not in it, and an artist whose heart’s not in his material is a fraud.”
Fuck. This was worse than I expected.
Her lips thinned as she skewered me with her gaze. “Ultimately, that’s why I’m disappointed with you, and you should be disappointed in yourself. You and your fans deserve better.”
Her gaze flicked to Jewel. “It was interesting to meet you.”
Mary stood, and when her attention moved to the entrance to the dining room, her stern expression softened. “My lunch date has arrived.”
Curious, I turned my head toward the entrance. When I saw who was standing there, my eyes widened.
Her arch rival, Charles Morris, the CEO of Zenith Productions.
Chapter 16
* * *
Jewel
“So that’s your boss?” I said, watching Mary as she crossed the room, weaving gracefully between the tables.
A striking and well-put-together woman of about fifty, she turned nearly as many heads as Rush had on his trek. She was attractive and confident. I could appreciate those qualities at a distance. Up close, I’d mainly concentrated on not being gobbled up alive.
The Right Man Page 11