Songbird (10 page)

“Then I’m not going.”

I glanced up sharply. “What?”

He crossed his arms, “If you’re not going,
then I’m not going.”

“What are we ten now? What brought this on?
You were looking forward to the Garden Party in San Jose.”

“That was before.” He sat in a huff across
from me and locked his eyes on mine. “When I thought you were going
and I’d have a chance to ogle your legs.”

“I wear skirts every day.” I pointed out the
flaw in his logic. “You can ogle my legs whenever you want. I can
find a female companion if that’s what this is about or see if one
of the girls from the opening band can go.” And I should have
thought about that. Nicholas wouldn’t want to go to a glorified tea
party with another guy.

“I can’t take one of them to something like
this. They’ll get
ideas
.” The way he said the word made it
sound like the very act was a crime. And he had a point there as
well.

“Then you can go alone.” This much force
probably wasn’t wise with him, but I wasn’t going. The party was a
big social event that I wasn’t qualified to be a companion for.
Besides that, there would be paparazzi, and while I couldn’t avoid
them completely attached to Nicholas as I was, I didn’t invite the
extra attention.

“To a girl party? Are you insane? I’d never
come out whole.”

Son of a bitch. He had a point there too. He
was a philander and most knew it. He’d likely come back to the
hotel missing some… Well, not dignity, but something. I was glad I
dropped the score system somewhere back in Portland or I’d be
outmatched today.

“Then I’ll find you a professional escort.
They do exist.”

“I don’t want a damn escort.”

“Walker, really. You’re being impossible.
It’s only a garden party.”

“Why am I being impossible when it’s such a
little thing for you to put on a dress, do your hair, and come to a
party?” He crossed his arms and actually stomped his foot. I
checked the eye roll.

“Try and think of this from my perspective.”
I held my hands out palms up. “There are several things wrong with
even entertaining the idea. Um, the first being I’m your tour
manager and sometimes assistant. It’s unethical. Then, ah,
secondly…I don’t have the kind of dress needed for that type of
party with me.” Under his intense stare I had begun to stutter.
Lovely. I lifted my chin and held his eyes waiting for his
attack.

“We’ll be in LA. You can shop online and have
a dress delivered to the hotel before I even finish the morning TV
show.” He slammed his hands down on the table and leaned over to
look me in the eyes.

“Third.” I swallowed and pointedly ignored
his interruption or tried. “Ah…I don’t meet the industry standard
for beauty. Attending as your date, guest, whatever wouldn’t look
good on you.”

His jaw clenched and he opened his mouth to
speak but slammed it shut again. If I had thought him angry before
I had been sorely mistaken. His face was shading at an alarming
rate.

“Find a fucking dress.” He stood abruptly.
“This is no longer up for discussion.” The door in the back of the
bus slammed moments later.

Closing my eyes I let out a heavy sigh. Then
lifted my water glass to my hot face and rubbed the cold
condensation over the heated skin. My arguments had been weak, and
there were better ways to handle Nicholas, I knew. Maybe next time
I should try the truth. Though arguing that I was fat and socially
awkward would probably get me just as far as I was now.

Arc stuck his head out of his bunk and looked
both ways. “Is it clear to come out?”

I only sighed.

“That could have went better.” Arc hopped
down and swaggered over to the table. “With the right lipstick
application the scar on your lower lip won’t be seen. The slightly
off nose gives you character, and you do have killer legs.”

“What are you getting at Arc? Never mind, why
do you know how to apply lipstick?”

“I have my ways, little bird.” He sat and
propped his feet up next to me. “Industry standard beautiful isn’t
realistic. It’s not healthy, and quite frankly, for all of us here
it’s not beautiful. At the moment you’re not required to please the
industry. You’re required to please Nick. He thinks your good
enough to go to the party. Why challenge that? If I was a chick, I
think that would be a pretty damn good compliment coming from a man
like him.”

“It’s improper.” I shoved his feet off the
bench. “There are rules to the game he plays. The rules indicate
being seen and photographed with women as pretty as or prettier
than he is. A plain Jane will only get him ridiculed and dismissed
in the media. He doesn’t need bad publicity right now. Not when
currently we’re doing pretty damn good.”

“And being seen with you is bad
publicity?”

“That’s an awfully high horse you’re sitting
on, Ms. Sheridan,” Max drawled and shifted in his bunk so he could
join the conversation without actually getting up.

I threw up my hands. Literally, threw my
hands up in the air. “What am I missing here? Do all of you need to
have vision checks in San Diego?”

“I think maybe it’s you that needs to have
your eyes checked.” Arc drummed his fingers on the table.

“You’re like a modern day Sophia Loren,” Max
provided. “You’re a little taller, even. You might need to add a
bit to her measurements but your body proportions are the
same.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Who is
Sophia Loren?” I pulled my glasses off again and pinched the bridge
of my nose.

“You’ve got to be joking,” Guy’s voice
floated nearby alerting me that he had now joined this ridiculous
conversation.

“You wound me.” Arc clutched his chest,
dramatically. “Sophia Loren, is considered a nineteen fifties pin
up model of glorious beauty and size.”

“Isn’t she before your time?”

“Beauty is timeless, Stilts.” Max sat down in
the booth.

I only sighed and rubbed harder at my
temples. Giving up I folded my arms and dropped my head on the
table. “What happened to professionalism?”

“Professionalism went out the window on day
one when you dragged Nicholas’s naked ass out of bed and onto the
tour bus,” Arc supplied.

“I got him dressed first,” I grumbled.

“True. True.” Guy’s hand rubbed circles on my
back.

“Still,” Max tapped fingers on the tabletop,
“you’re traveling with us, trapped it tight quarters for hours at a
time. Staying aloof and completely professional would have never
happened anyway. We’ve been friends a long time and with you on the
bus, you’d have been our friend eventually. The line would have
blurred and erased without your prompt invasion of Nicholas’s
house.”

I only sighed.

“We can go down to the stage early. Set up
and take a look around. If anything is needed then we’ll text you.”
Arc reached over and laid a hand on my head.

“I don’t have a dress.” I was almost peeved
enough to shrug off the hands. Almost. I felt myself losing this
argument. I grasped at every straw I had to stay on top of the
argument but I knew it to be futile.

“Ask the hotel. They probably know where you
can get a dress on short notice. The weather is nice and it’s only
a garden party so you don’t need anything red carpet fancy.” Guy
stated and I heard cards shuffle.

“Why me? Why couldn’t I have been stuck to a
biddable, even tempered, friendly sort?”

“That sounds really boring,” Arc stated.

“So you’ll do it?” Max asked.

“Do I really have a choice?” I mumbled and
sat up.

“Not really.” Even without my glasses, I
could see Arc’s bright smile. “Ezra will probably be calling in a
few minutes telling you that you have to go anyway. Nick always
cries to daddy when he doesn’t get his way.”

I would not have my authority undermined. I
pulled out my phone and sent a text. The least I could do is get to
Ezra before Nicholas could.

Nicholas didn’t speak to me on the ride over
to the TV studio. He didn’t even look at me. As far as tantrums
went he was throwing a pretty spectacular one.

Once he was out of my hands and the
responsibility of the studio staff, I pulled out my phone and began
going through the dress shops the hotel receptionist had written
down. I had a specific style in mind, something that would go with
my bling heels. I hadn’t worn them yet; I hadn’t had a reason
to.

When I found the dress I coveted I cringed at
the price. The perfect dress would have to be way outside my price
range. I bookmarked it and kept looking but I already knew my heart
was set.

I wondered if I could cover it across my
credit cards until I got my royalties check from the tour. That was
a hell of a lot of money to juggle for a dress I only had a reason
to wear once. I could probably make up reasons to wear it again,
but…

When the TV host announced Nicholas’s
entrance, I glanced up to see him walk across the stage with what I
now recognized as his fake smile. The dimple in his left cheek was
missing again. Not that I noticed or anything. I wondered if he
even knew.

I sent him a smile and a thumbs up. His smile
strained and I internally sighed. His moods were so unpredictable.
If he was a less moody bastard I wouldn’t be staring at an almost
four figure dress trying to juggle it within my personal
financing.

There was no way I could justify it. Not out
of my personal finances anyway. I sent a rapid text to Ezra and a
link to the dress. Let’s see what he thought about it. Maybe I
could get out of the whole deal if the dress was too costly.

Feeling a little better now that I had taken
that little chore off my plate and handed it off to someone else. I
watched the interview and tried not to be concerned over Nicholas’s
less than pleasant demeanor. When it was time to sing, and someone
brought out a guitar the tension rolled off him even more.

I mimicked eating to see if he was hungry.
Maybe promising some food the moment this was done would help his
performance. With an even better idea I dug through my purse for my
emergency chocolate bar hoping I hadn’t eaten it in a desperate
moment.

When his eyes met mine, I held up the
chocolate bar and tugged the corners of my mouth up with my
fingers. I hoped my message was clear. Smile and you get the
chocolate.

He licked his top lip once and when he
grinned the dimple winked. Wow. I swallowed. I would have to
remember to stock more chocolate in my purse.

When my phone buzzed I looked down at the
text.

Dress will be delivered to your room by noon.
Keep our boy happy.

Well, son of a bitch. Apparently Ezra thought
the expense wasn’t a problem. Just fucking great. There went my
schedule.

The waiting area was small, around twenty
feet long. How did I know? Because the moment I finished fuming
over Ezra’s text I began to pace.

I had to stop pacing a few times to shoot off
texts to Jimmy, Max, and Guy. Guy responded almost immediately,
which I respected. He was the most responsible out of the bunch
anyway.

I stopped pacing long enough to read Jimmy’s
dismissive text and thought about how to respond. Before I could
respond to the next ping arms wrapped around me from behind pinning
my arms above my elbows to my sides. I froze but didn’t struggle or
scream. They were filming only feet away. That would be
inappropriate. Besides. I had been able to smell him the moment he
pressed into my back. Nicholas’s scent was potent and unmistakable.
I couldn’t stop the shudder at the contact but I could pretend I
didn’t notice. I had to.

The arm on top lifted and a hand lightly
wrapped around my neck. “Hand over the Mr. Goodbar and no one gets
hurt.”

“Your obsession with sweets is going to give
you diabetes.” I twisted my head but only caught a glimpse of his
smile. My voice stayed firm and normal, but my heart... My heart
skipped a beat and picked up a little quicker than it had been.