I watch her until she finally gets her sound the way she likes it and walks off the stage. I meet her at the side and walk with her to her backstage room. No matter where we go, the room always has the same white draping.
“Are you sure you don’t want to spend an extra night here and just leave in the morning?” Cori asks her, and she just nods her head.
“Yes. I’d rather just get it over with.” She grabs a bottle of water and snaps it open. “Do you not want to do that?”
“Well, if it’s okay, I don’t mind coming with the crew tomorrow,” Cori says. “It’s fine if you say no.”
Kellie shakes her head. “No, it’s good.” She turns back and looks at me. “I’m going to get some food before makeup gets here.” I get up and walk with her to the big dining area. Four tables of food are set up along two walls, and tables are everywhere. The backstage crew occupies most of the tables. I speak to Trisha and Jackie, who both wave hello. “Go grab yourself a plate,” Kellie says. “I have to go to the bathroom.” She turns and walks away with Cori, and I walk up, filling my plate with a bit of everything. I spot an empty table and walk over to sit down at it.
“Is this seat taken?” I hear a smooth female voice beside me and look up to see it’s one of the backup dancers. I shake my head, and she places her plate on the table and then sits down. “I don’t think we’ve formally met.” She starts talking, pushing her blond hair behind her shoulder. Her brown eyes shine as she smiles at me. “I’m Stacey.” She holds out her hand, and I lean forward, grabbing it.
“I’m Brian,” I tell her, and she finally lets go of my hand.
“I know.” She grabs her fork and then starts eating. “I’ve asked around.” She looks at me from the side.
“Have you?” I finally start eating, looking at her.
“I have. It’s not everyday a smoking hot guy starts hanging around,” she says, laughing. “I mean—”
I laugh at her. “I get it.”
“So, Brian,” she starts, “besides being Kellie’s shadow, what else do you do?”
“I’m not her shadow,” I tell her. “It’s my job to make sure she is safe.” Stacey reaches out and puts her hand on mine.
“I wouldn’t mind you being my shadow,” she says to me, and I look at her hand and see her fingers are rubbing a circle on my arm.
“Oh.” I hear Kellie from beside me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You aren’t interrupting anything.” I look at her and see her looking from me to Stacey to her fingers on my arm. “Stacey was just introducing herself to me.”
“I was,” Stacey says. Taking her hands off me, she grabs her plate. “It was nice chatting, Brian. Hopefully, we can catch up again soon.” She smiles at Kellie, who smiles back at her, but I see it’s a forced smile.
“I’m sorry,” Kellie says, sitting down in the other empty seat at the table. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your—”
“You didn’t interrupt anything,” I cut her off before she says something else. “She came and introduced herself, and that is the end of it.”
I watch her, and her eyes never look up at me. She just stares at her plate as she eats her food or better yet scoots it around on her plate. “I’m not hungry anymore.” She gets up, and I watch her walk to the garbage and throw her plate out.
Cori sits next to me, and I look over at her. “What in the hell just happened?”
“It’s called jealousy.” She smirks. “By the way, it’s only the two of you on the bus tonight. The rest of the crew is leaving tomorrow evening.”
“Jealous?” It’s the only thing I took from her side of the conversation. “Jealousy?” I push my chair back and pick up my plate. “What the hell is she jealous of?”
“Oh, you silly, silly man.” Cori just laughs at me. “It’s no fun if I give you all the answers.” I turn and walk away, racking my brain for what the hell she is jealous of now.
“Brian.” I hear my name being called right before I am about to head into Kellie’s dressing room. Turning, I see Stacey running toward me. “I just wanted you to have my number,” she says, holding out a white card. My hand automatically takes it, seeing her name and number on it. “I hope that you use it,” she says and then turns and walks away. I look down at the card and then turn to my right to look into the room. Kellie is sitting there in her chair, watching the whole exchange.
Chapter Fifteen
Kellie
I can’t say I’m surprised that Stacey is the first one to hit on him in front of me. I just didn’t think I would get a front row seat to it. Walking back into the dining hall, I grabbed a plate and looked around for him. Walking closer to them, I saw her finger twirling on his arm. Well, I wanted to walk over to her and break each and every single one of her fingers. I tried to ignore him and the whole situation, but then I was sitting in my chair, and she actually came bouncing over like a rabbit in heat to hand him her number. Please. I rolled my eyes and then looked straight from him to the makeup girl who was doing my eyes.
I block it all out when I step on stage because these people didn’t pay money for a mediocre performance. No, they came here, and I’m getting on that stage ready to slay. I am so in the zone that I don’t see the commotion to the side of me, and the next thing I know, a man is running on stage with flowers in his hand calling my name. I watch him coming at me, but just like that, Brian is in front of me, issuing commands to the security guys beside him.
“Are you okay?” he asks me, and I nod, looking to see we are backstage. My name is being chanted over and over. “Do you want to continue?” he asks me, and I just watch him when Cori comes over with a bottle of water.
“Kellie, Kellie, Kellie.” The chanting gets louder and louder.
“I have to get back out there.” I look at them. Brian looks like he’s ready to take me out of here. “I’m not going to let him win.” My head held high, I push my shoulders back and walk back on stage to give them everything I have left. And slay I do. When I’m ushered off the stage after the last standing ovation, Cori meets me, spewing off things I don’t even understand. “If you need anything, call. If not, well, you have Brian.”
I get on the bus, Brian gets on the bus after me, and when the doors close, the bus takes off. “Do you need help?” He looks at me. “I know Cori usually helps you out of that thing.” He points at my cat girl outfit.
“No,” I mumble, going to my room. “I have it.” I shut the door and then try to unzip myself, but even I have to admit defeat when after ten minutes of trying to bend myself into a pretzel, I can’t get the zipper down. I open the door and walk out to see him arranging food on a plate. He looks up, and I see the white Styrofoam cup with the red writing on it.
“I got you Chick-fil-A.” He brings the plate to the table. “Why are you still wearing that?” he asks with his hands on his hips.
“I can’t get it unzipped,” I tell him softly, looking at the table. He puts my sandwich on a paper plate and the black bowl of chicken bites sits in front of it with packages of honey mustard. “Can you?” I walk to him and turn around and feel his hands at my neck. His hands go into the collar and two fingers rub my neck while his other hand pulls the zipper all the way down to the bottom of my back. I walk away from his touch, amazed he went out of his way to make sure I have something to eat. I shut the door and peel myself out of my clothes, then jump in the shower. I put on my joggers and my thick sweater and walk out. He is sitting on the couch with his iPad in his lap. “Um.” I look at the food as I sit down. “Thank you,” I say softly.
“You’re welcome,” he says, and I grab a chicken bite and dip it in the sauce and then toss it in my mouth. “The guy on stage was a teenager in love with you. He wasn’t our guy.” I nod and release a relieved sigh. “So are we going to talk about what got you upset before you walked on stage?”
I stop chewing and just look over at him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Playing stupid is what I’m goin
g to do, and no one can make me do otherwise.
“Really?” he asks, tossing his iPad to the side and sitting up. “Maybe I should refresh your memory.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Maybe you should,” I tell him angrily. “I mean, please do tell.”
“You saw me sitting at the table with Stacey, and you think I was flirting with her.” I’m about to say something, but he holds up his hand. “And I will add she was flirting with me but not vice versa.”
“I don’t care who you flirt with,” I tell him, and it tastes like battery acid in my mouth. Not that I know what battery acid tastes like, but I’m sure it’s just like this. “I don’t care what you do or who you do it with. Just as I’m sure you don’t care what or who I do.” I glare at him. “Right?”
“Right.” He hisses out the words. “Now eat and drink.” He sits back down, and I want to ignore him and stomp into my room, but I’m hungry and thirsty, so I eat and then drink two bottles of water. I get up, cleaning my plate. I walk to the couch to sit next to him, and he moves over.
“You can lie down. I know you must be tired,” he says softly, and I’m not even going to mention that’s a nice gesture. I grab the remote and turn on the television and start Shameless. We watch another five episodes before the bus stops, and I look at my watch. “I think we have arrived.”
“Already?” I ask him. Getting up, I look outside and see the sign to the Four Seasons.
“Stay here. I’m going to go check in,” he tells me and then walks out of the bus and into the lobby. It takes him no more than three minutes to come back with a key. “Okay, I have the key. Let’s go.” He walks behind me and talks to the bellhop, telling him what room we are in and to bring up all the bags. He ushers me to the side elevator, and we ride up to the floor. He places the key in front of the black circle, and the green light flashes, unlocking the door. He holds open the door to let me walk ahead of him, and I click on the light. I walk down the hallway into the open living room. A plush purple couch sits against the wall with a glass table in front of it. A little table in the corner with two chairs are in front of the couch. I walk into the doorway and see one king-size bed. I turn around, looking for the other room, and find nothing but a door to the bathroom.
“There is only one bedroom,” I tell him as he sits on the couch. “There is one king-size bed.” I walk over to the bag in the chair that he brought in and grab my phone out of it.
“What are you doing?” he asks me, and I look at him.
“I’m calling Cori.” I look at him. “There is only one bed.”
“It’s almost four a.m. She’s probably sleeping,” he says, kicking off his shoes. He gets up, bending over, and pulls out the couch cushion. “There is a pull-out couch.” He brings the cushion to the table in the corner and then moves the glass table over. I watch him pull the bed out of the couch. “See, it’s fine.” I look at the pull-out couch, wondering if it’s really going to be okay. But I don’t get to say anything to him since there is a knock on the door. Brian walks to the door and then comes back with the luggage cart and all the suitcases. “Can we unload this tomorrow morning?” he asks, and I nod.
“There is only one bathroom, and you can only access it from the bedroom,” I tell him, and he looks up.
“Tomorrow, we’ll figure it out,” he says, peeling his shirt off. “I need sleep, and you need sleep.” I nod, watching him walk around the bed and then sitting on the bed. “Goodnight, Kellie.”
I turn around. “Right. Goodnight.” I walk to the bed, grab two pillows, and then walk to the couch and hand them to him. “Here you go.” He’s sitting on the side of his bed with his head down. He looks up, and I see the little flecks of gold in his blue eyes.
“Thank you.” He holds out his hand, and I hand them to him and turn to walk away from him. I wanted to stand between his open legs and put my hands on his cheeks, then bend down and softly touch his lips. Instead, I turn and walk away. Pulling the bedding back, I slide between the cold sheets. I turn on my side and watch him get ready for bed. He doesn’t take off his pants. He just goes under the covers, then leans over and turns off the lights. It’s now all dark, and I wait for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. I close my eyes and then open them again, my eyes watching the figure right in front of me until my eyes don’t open anymore.
The flushing toilet wakes me up, and my eyes slowly open. I’m in the same position I was when I fell asleep. Looking over at the bedside table, I see it’s just after ten twenty-seven. I look over at the couch and see the covers thrown over. I hear water running from the bathroom and then the sound of the door unlocking. I hear him walking down the little hallway to the bedroom.
“Morning,” he says when I look up at him. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No,” I say softly. He walks out and makes the bed back to a couch, and then places the pillows back on it. “Did you sleep well?”
“As well as one can with a metal bar in the middle of his back,” he answers, looking at me and laughing. “It was fine.”
“We should have just gotten you a room.” I toss the covers aside and then make my way to the bathroom. When I come back out, I hear him hang up the phone.
“I ordered you breakfast,” he says, and I see he put his shirt back on. “I didn’t know what you would want, so I got both pancakes and waffles.”
Nodding at him, I open the shades and look outside. “Nice view,” he says from beside me. I look out and see the John Hancock building to the side.
I turn and walk to the couch. Sitting, I grab the remote. “What episode were we watching?” I look at him, turning the television on.
“Nine, I think, maybe ten,” he answers and then turns and looks at me. “What did you have planned for today?”
“Nothing,” I say happily. “Absolutely nothing.”
“Good,” he says, turning. “I’m taking you out.”
I look over at him confused. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, we are going to eat breakfast and then I want you to get dressed. We are going to go out and then we are going to go around the city,” he tells me, coming to sit down next to me on the couch. He grabs his phone and starts typing on it while I sit here and try to dissect what he just told me. I don’t even pay attention to the episode I’m watching especially after the knock on the door, and the man comes in. This time, he leaves the cart since there is no room on the little table for all the plates he brought. I get up, going to the table, and pour a cup of coffee.
“I don’t know if I can go out there.” I look at him while he fixes his plate, and he glances up at me with worry. “I mean, what if people recognize me?” No matter how many times I try to be normal, the press gets wind of it or the fans come over, and I end up stuck wherever I am, trying to get out of it. And I usually need a police escort.
“I’m there,” he says before grabbing a forkful of egg. He looks up at me. “If it gets to be too much, I will make sure we get out of there without anyone knowing.”
“You don’t know,” I whisper, “how it can be.”
“Trust me.” He says the two words that mean more than he knows. “Trust me to protect you.”
I don’t say anything to him because I can’t talk over the lump in my throat. I want to be the normal girl who walks around without a care in the world, the girl who can walk in and order coffee, and it’s not a big ordeal. “The last time I trusted someone, he tipped off the paparazzi where I was going to be and made sure he got paid handsomely for his little scoop.”
The fork he is holding falls from his hand with a clatter. “I would never do that to you.” He grabs a glass of water that is on the tray and takes a drink. “Ever.”
I look at his struggle. He has to keep me safe, that is his job, and I know deep down he would do anything to make sure I’m safe. “Okay,” I whisper, putting down my cup of coffee and grabbing a plate to pile with a waffle and pancake. “Let’s go explore the city.” He smiles at me and nods his head. I
try to rush through breakfast, excited about where we are going and what we are doing. “How should I dress?”
“Casual,” he answers. “Jeans, shirt, runners. We are going to be walking a bit, so you need comfy shoes.”
I nod and look over at the luggage cart that still has all my suitcases on them. “Can you grab the navy one?” I ask him. He pushes away from the table, grabs the navy one, and puts it on the luggage rack in my room. I follow him there and unzip the luggage and find that it’s my casual one. “Do you need to use the bathroom?” I ask him before he walks out.
“You can use it first,” he says and closes the double doors. I toss things around in the luggage until I find a casual pair of pants. Undressing from my joggers, I put on my dark green cargo pants that are a soft cotton. The cuff at the legs is tight with elastic. Picking up a short-sleeved white shirt, I slip it on, then knock on my door to tell him I’m coming in the room. “You can come out.” I open the door right at the time he is putting on his own white shirt. When his black jeans fall low on his hips, the band of his Calvins visible, and I stand here wondering if they are boxers or briefs. He smooths down the long-sleeved shirt, leaving one button open at the top. He looks over at me and shakes his head, smiling.
“What?” I ask, looking down at my casual outfit.
“You just …” He sits, grabbing his white sneakers.
“I just what?” I ask, aggravated, after I made sure that I was dressed as casual as I could.
“You just look good in everything,” he mumbles, and I just stand here. It’s the first time he’s given me this. That he even looks at me or sees me.
“Um.” I don’t know what to say or how to address this, so I do what any normal girl would do. I avoid it and walk to my bag with my workout stuff. Grabbing my white Nikes, I slip them on. “I just need to get my jacket, and then I’ll be ready.” Going to the bedroom, I grab the black leather jacket from the bed and slip it on. “Is this okay?”
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