Red Lines (5 page)

“Is there something wrong?” Haven looked worried.

“Nah, just press gathered up at the gate. Don’t worry. I promise they can’t get in here, and you have nothing to worry about.”

“Are they going to follow me to Blue Steel?” A sudden look of panic swept across her face.

“No, no. They want some kind of statement or interview. Hell, I don’t know, but I’ll go with you and make sure they leave you alone.”

He noticed she shifted on the stool and started biting her lip again. “Wait, you don’t want me to go with you?” he asked.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to go, but maybe I should do this on my own. That was the plan, right? I was headed here to sign my contract and meet with Carly and Bruce. If you go, it might turn into…”

He didn’t need her to finish her sentence. He knew exactly what she was alluding to. If he went, there would be a media circus descending on Blue Steel Records, and though Bruce was a friend, it might not be wanted.

“All right, well if I’m not going, I need to send someone with you. You can’t go out in that by yourself.”

“Like a driver?”

“More like a bodyguard.”

“Bodyguard?” He thought she lost a little color in her cheeks. The idea was supposed to make her feel better, not worse.

“Do I really need that?” She pushed her omelet around on her plate.

“It’s your first time in Austin, right? Might as well have someone get you to your meeting on time and keep the press out of reach. You don’t want to have to worry about parking downtown. It will be no big deal.”

“Ok.” She picked up her coffee cup. “If you think it’s the best thing.”

He nodded. She acquiesced, but he was having a hard time believing she was up for this. This was his life, not hers. Putting her in the fishbowl was tearing at him. There had to be another way; he just didn’t know what it was.

“I do. What time is your meeting?”

“Two o’clock.”

“My interview isn’t until three, so sounds like we’ve got some time. All right, how about I give you a tour of the ranch?” He jumped off the stool. He knew if he let her sit here all morning, she would worry about the meeting, worry about the press, and worry about the bodyguard. Best to keep this pretty girl distracted.

L
AST NIGHT
was a mix of everything Haven loved and a dash of things she was uncertain about. Evan seemed comfortable and relaxed at the ranch, not unlike how he was on the island, but something was different. Maybe it was the staff and the responsibilities he had to face, or maybe it was the fact she knew his real name, his complete identity, and that made her see him in an entirely new light.

Regardless of the confusion swirling in her head, she was excited about seeing the ranch. She followed Evan to the far end of the garage.

“We have to drive?” she asked.

“Sorta.” He pulled the cover off a four-wheeler. “This is how I like to see the ranch.” He walked to the opposite wall and retrieved a few helmets.

She secured it over her head and clasped the buckle in place against her cheek. “How does this look?”

“I’d say it’s the best lookin’ helmet in Texas. Ready?” He straddled the ATV and patted the back of the seat for Haven to sit behind him.

She followed his instructions and slid her hands around his waist.

“Hold on tight.” He revved the engine, threw the four-wheeler into reverse, and peeled out of the garage.

The sun was glaring as Evan turned the bike onto a dirt path. She always thought August in North Carolina was hot, but this was a whole new level of heat. She was glad they were going fast. The wind whipping through her hair gave the illusion that it wasn’t a scorching Texas day.

The house disappeared behind them, and eventually, they were rolling through an open field. Haven couldn’t see the road or a single building. They were actually alone.

Evan called over his shoulder, “This used to be a grazing pasture, but the cattle have been moved to another part of the ranch to let this part grow back.”

She nodded, but wasn’t sure he saw it. There was a huge grin on his face as he steered them deeper into the rolling fields. He turned them toward a cluster of trees.

“I want to show you my secret fishing hole,” he yelled, then spun them hard left until they were in the shade of low-growing oaks. They emerged after a few seconds in front of a pond. Evan cut the engine.

Haven noticed a few chairs, and the stone circle of a campfire pit. It made her smile.

“This is my escape when I’m here.” He led her toward the chairs.

“Why do you need to escape at the ranch?” she asked. He had everything he needed at the house, not to mention you could get lost trying to find the bathroom. She thought the house was his escape.

He picked up a few rocks and started skipping them across the stillness of the pond. The ripples carried from one end to the other.

“’Cause, sometimes it’s too much. And I like to be alone.”

“Oh.” She twisted her lips into a frown.

“Not like that. I didn’t mean that. Not alone away from you. I meant away from the staff. Away from work. This is my place. I wanted to share it with you.”

“I think it’s beautiful.” She stooped to grab a handful of pebbles and walked closer to the pond. “What kind of fish are in here?” She tried to skip the rocks but could only get two hops at a time.

“Catfish mostly, but since I haven’t been here all summer they are probably enormous. Want to fish with me?”

“Yes, let’s do some fishing. I’ve never fished in a pond before. We don’t exactly have any on the island.”

“Maybe there is something I can teach you about the water after all.” Evan chuckled. He strolled to the four-wheeler and unhooked a cooler and two rods that were strapped to the back.

Haven reached for one of the rods.

“Ok, so the beauty of fishing here is the fish can’t escape.”

She laughed. “That seems cruel. They don’t have a chance.”

“Then they shouldn’t take my bait. Trust me, we need to fish this pond. It’s probably overrun by now.” He attached bait to the ends of their lines and cast his lure into the center of the pond. “Need help?”

Haven shook her head. “Oh no, I can cast. Grew up on an island, remember?” If there was one thing she could do, it was catch a fish. When you spend your summers as a kid on the docks outside your parents’ store, you get good at perfecting your fishing techniques. She was excellent with a cast net, a crab net, and had won her fair share of pinfish tournaments.

“Right, right.” He pulled the chairs closer to the edge of the pond and stretched into the seat.

It was quiet, but not the same kind of quiet Haven was used to. There were no sounds of crashing waves, or boats cruising by. She couldn’t hear the squawk of seagulls, or the sound of wind chimes bouncing around from a sea breeze. Ranch quiet had its own sounds, and she couldn’t identify them all.

Evan reached into the cooler and pulled out a beer. “Want one?” He offered the cold bottle to her.

“No, I don’t think I should drink before my interview. What if I mess up?”

“Darlin’, it’s
not
an interview. You already have a contract. It might take the edge off.” He pushed it in her direction and she finally accepted it.

“I guess I do have a few hours.” She twisted the top off and took a big gulp. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a beer in the morning, probably never, but this one tasted good.

“Isn’t this perfect?” He smiled.

“Yeah, it is.” She relaxed in her seat. Evan’s hand rested on her knee. Her line was in the water, and they were alone. It was completely perfect.

H
AVEN HAD
changed outfits three times. Finally, she settled on a black skirt and a sleeveless button-up blue shirt. She thought it combined a professional and stylish look, even if it wasn’t like anything she usually wore. Evan kept reminding her it wasn’t an interview, but it felt like it. She was meeting Carly Stone, her favorite singer, who was interested in singing Haven’s first three songs.

After the pond fishing this morning, she took a shower and focused on the meeting. She knew Evan would keep distracting her if she let him, but this was one moment in her life she knew it was ok to let the butterflies take hold. A first song deal wasn’t something she could skim over and pretend was part of everyday life. It
was
her life. It was a dream materializing after months of hard work. Butterflies were a good reminder of what she had accomplished.

Evan said he needed to prep for his new agent meeting. So, after the tenth time, she finally convinced him she was fine, and he left her alone to get ready and prepare.

Without him there, the bathroom seemed even larger than last night. She wasn’t sure she knew how to work all the shower buttons. After turning on music, then lights, she was able to start the water. This was a far cry from setting the seven-minute kitchen timer at home. Evan said to let the water run as long as she wanted.

Thirty minutes later, she emerged with flushed skin that was a little pruney on the fingertips, but she didn’t care. It felt wonderful.

After dabbing on the last bits of mascara, she took a deep breath and headed downstairs. Evan said someone named Bud on his security detail was going to take her to the meeting. She popped her head in Evan’s office before going to meet her escort.

“Hey, I’m getting ready to leave.”

He looked distracted, and she wasn’t sure she had seen his forehead furrowed before. There was an intensity surrounding him that was unfamiliar.

He stood from the desk and walked around to meet her. “Tell Bruce I said hey. I need to catch up with him while I’m in town. Tell him I’ll give him a call for lunch or a beer.”

“Ok, I’ll tell him.” She turned to leave.

“Wait, hold on.” He grabbed her arm. “You’re not getting out of here like that.”

Before she knew it, Evan had dipped her toward the floor and his lips were firmly planted on hers. To hell with lip gloss. She felt the warmth of his mouth and sighed as he stood her upright.

“Umm, thanks?” She laughed. She ran her fingers along her bottom lip, feeling the prickling sensation turn to numbness from Evan’s kiss.

“Good luck, but you don’t need it. They are going to love you and the contract is a done deal, so stop worrying.” He walked back toward the monstrous leather chair on the other side of his desk. “Call me when you’re on your way back.”

“Ok. I will. Bye.” She left him rifling through a stack of folders. She didn’t know what had him in such a distracted state, but this was an Evan she hadn’t seen before: slightly distant, quieter, and intent on a pile of papers.

B
UD SEEMED
like a nice guy. He had a Stetson that covered the top half of his head and a smile just as big. The entire drive to the Blue Steel office, Haven twisted her hands in her lap. Bud insisted she sit in the backseat, where the windows were tinted dark enough the press wouldn’t see her when they left the ranch. The only problem was that she could still see out.

There were rows of them. Microphones, tripods, cameras scattered through the crowd. As soon as Bud turned onto the Texas highway, a smattering of flashes bounced off the car. She realized they didn’t know who was in the backseat, but it didn’t calm the queasiness seeing the press mob conjured.

The roads in Texas were much wider than what she was used to. On the island, she could see the sound on one side, and the ocean on the other. Wide-open hill country was different. As the miles rolled passed, the fences and ranch gates became less frequent, and buildings started to pop up.

Bud steered them into the heart of downtown and pulled up alongside a tan brick building.

Haven pressed her palms into her legs for the tenth time since they left the house. She reminded herself what Evan said. Nothing to worry about. This was a done deal. Then why did it feel like her career was hanging on this moment?

Bud opened the door for her. “Want me to walk in with you?” he offered.

“Oh, no thank you. I think I’ll be fine.” She scanned the sidewalk for any sign that the press from the ranch might have followed them.

“I’ll be sitting right here, then.”