by KB Winters
Not in my wildest dreams had I imagined that I’d meet someone that made me laugh and smile as though my heart wasn’t shattered into a hundred tiny pieces, barely clinging to one another as the whole thing mended.
But there he was. Derrick Lawley, with his easy smile, quiet confidence, and gentlemanly charm. Of course, the broad shoulders, squared jaw, and dark eyes didn’t hurt either.
I leaned in a little closer and asked, “And what about here? Since we’re both a little stuck at the moment. Where would you take me?”
Derrick’s eyes darkened with a new layer of something that looked—and felt—a lot like desire. They dropped to my lips for a fraction of a second before returning to hold my stare. “I guess you’ll have to come find me after your concert tonight so I can show you.”
A tingle of anticipation swept over my body, the mystery of his offer making me even more eager to find a way to be alone with him.
“I think that could be arranged,” I replied, smiling softly.
“Your babysitter from yesterday won’t flip out?” he teased.
I groaned. “No…that was a one-time thing. Or, at least, it better be.”
Derrick laughed and shrugged. “It’s all right. You did miss out on a helluva chocolate cake though. I went ahead without you.”
My eyebrows rose with mock scandal. “How dare you, sir!”
Derrick laughed, his eyes dancing as I joined in. “Guess I’ll have to see if there are any leftovers I can snag from the cooks. They like me, so the odds are good.”
“You the big man on campus around here?” I asked, glancing around the bustle that swept past us as we sat in the shallow alcove. No one had stopped to talk to us, but a few people had made pointed glances at Derrick and me, which made me curious about their thoughts. Even after spending a decade in the music industry, I hadn’t learned how to block myself from caring about what other people thought. I kept myself away from gossip magazines and websites—as much as humanly possible, at least—and didn’t give too much weight to reviews on my music as long as there were still fans behind me. But when it came down to it, I still cared a little too much about what people were thinking when they ran into me out on the street or at a party or function. As a celebrity, it was hard not to think about what everyone was saying as you walked away from a cluster of people and heard the whispers.
Derrick scoffed playfully at my question. He shook his head and assured me that was far from the truth, “Nah, I’m a small cog in this machine. I’m a staff sergeant, which gives me some pull back home in my own unit, but out here, I’m outnumbered. I take orders far more than I give them.”
I nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Is that how you prefer things?”
He considered the question and shrugged. “It works. I like my job and I know I’m good at it. What more could I really ask for?”
I didn’t have an answer for him. My career was the polar opposite from his. My job didn’t have a clear-cut path to the top or even a blurry path, really. It all waxed and waned as I released new music, went on tour, did TV appearances, and then started the cycle all over again. My last album, a Christmas compilation, had dropped at the end of October and other than the trip to perform for the troops, it wouldn’t require a tour. Thankfully. I was taking some much needed time off to step away from the public eye and get my shit together before throwing myself back into the studio to record anything new.
Before I could find a segue from his question to a new topic, Blake sauntered around the corner and zeroed in on me. His eyes went wide, like a hungry lion spotting a gazelle, and pounced…
Beside me, Derrick stiffened in his seat.
Blake was either too stupid or—more likely—too cocky to see I was already occupied. He pocketed his hands and crossed the busy hall, barely paying attention to the busy soldiers rushing around, probably doing something important, instead, he made them hurry to avoid him. He kept that slimy, snake oil salesman smile on his face the entire way and when he reached the alcove, he stood between the two chairs, and slid a simplistic smile to Derrick. “You done getting your autograph, pal?”
“You’ll have to excuse him,” I interjected before Derrick could answer, “Blake thinks he’s God’s gift to women the world over and that he doesn’t need to be bothered by such things as courtesy or good manners.”
Blake didn’t even flinch. If anything, his smarmy grin only deepened.
I gagged a little.
“Well, where I come from, you treat people with respect,” Derrick said, his tone tight but firm.
Blake chuckled. “And where’s that, soldier?”
Derrick’s hands clenched the arms of his tufted chair and my heart raced a little faster. I wasn’t going to let Blake provoke Derrick into fighting with him. This wasn’t some off-hours bar. There were scads of people coming and going, any of which could be Derrick’s commanding officers, people who wouldn’t have the power to discipline Blake, a guest, and would take it out on Derrick instead.
“Blake, what do you want?” I snapped, glaring up at him.
Blake held Derrick’s fierce stare another moment before sliding his eyes to mine. “Sound check is starting and they need all of us in the auditorium.”
“Fine, go be a good little messenger boy and tell Jenna I’ll be there in ten minutes. I want to get a refill,” I said, holding up my nearly full cup of coffee. I didn’t need a refill. I needed more time with Derrick.
Blake held out his hand. “Here, let me.”
I reared back, nearly flinching at the almost kind gesture. Where was the groping, slobbering asshole from the plane? Was he putting on his best face for Derrick’s benefit or was he just stalling long enough to prepare his next barbed reply?
In any case, I didn’t need him anywhere near my coffee.
“No, thank you. I’ll get it.”
Blake crossed his arms. “Suit yourself.”
He pivoted on his heel and stalked back in the direction he’d come from. Only when he’d ducked out of sight did I realize that I had no idea where the auditorium was. I glanced over at Derrick. “Sorry about that…”
“Who was that guy?”
I flapped a hand. “Blake Powell, he’s the singer for one of the bands, and he seems to think that somehow he’s claimed me for the duration of the trip.”
“Claimed you?”
I pushed my hair back and nodded. “He’s just an annoyance. Ignore him.”
Derrick didn’t look convinced.
“Any chance you could show me to the auditorium?”
Derrick’s attention snapped away from the hallway where Blake had disappeared, and returned to me. He smiled. “Of course. Let’s get you that coffee first.”
I smiled and stood up when he offered me a hand. As we walked, I chugged the coffee down to make room for the unnecessary refill. The ten-minute delay flew by all too quickly, and Derrick dropped me off at the doors of the large auditorium that appeared to have been used as some kind of theater before.
He leaned against the frame of the door and smiled down at me. “So, we on for tonight?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I replied, grinning.
“And by that, you mean chocolate cake, right?” Derrick teased.
I barked out a laugh. “Obviously.”
“Thought so.” Derrick, still grinning, pushed off the wall and started back the way we’d come. “See you tonight, Sophia.”
He flashed me one last smile and then disappeared around the corner, leaving me alone, with a head full of imaginations of where the night would take us.
Chapter Five - Derrick
“Aha, there he is! The future Mr. Sophia Rossi!”
I grimaced as a burst of cheers followed my buddy’s bold proclamation as I made my way into the outpost that served as my main office. “Ha ha, guys. Truly hilarious.”
Staff Sergeant Marcus Napier sidled up to me, grinning from ear to ear, and slung an arm over my shoulders. “Just let us
know where you’re registered so we can all chip in and buy you a sweet gravy boat or some shit.”
More laughter.
I rolled my eyes. “Ya know, every deployment hits that point where insanity starts to kick in. I really had you guys pegged for the six-month mark. You’re cracking too soon, boys.”
Marcus, Stephen, and Kent—the three idiots I hung out with most of the time—all chuckled as I lowered into my seat at a long table that was stacked with way too much shit to be a place of productivity. Somewhere in the mess, a sticky note detailing my to-do list was probably attached to the underside of a folder. Ironically, I knew the first item on the list was to clear my desk…
Marcus threw himself into the chair at the desk opposite mine, his eyes still sparking with mischief. “You can’t blame us for being curious, Lawley. The entire platoon is buzzing that you’re getting a little slice of Sophia’s world-famous ass.”
My jaw tightened at the off-handed comment. “Well, you can take it upon yourself to spread the word that I’m not.”
Marcus’s eyebrows shot up, realizing he’d struck a nerve. “Hey man, we’re just teasing. I didn’t mean anything by it. You know how gossip flies around here.”
“Yeah,” I paused and rubbed a hand over the back of my neck, massaging the tension that had settled there from days spent hulked over a computer. For whatever reason, this tour of duty had me sitting at a desk way too often for my tastes. Perks of moving up a rank since my last tour, I supposed. “Well, let’s leave Sophia out of this. Her ass too.”
“Come on, Lawley. You can’t tell us that you’re not interested in hittin’ that. Shit, every guy I’ve talked to is trying to figure out how the hell you scored a dinner date with her last night.”
So, that’s what this was? Being seen in the mess hall with Sophia had sparked a base-wide hysteria that we somehow hooked up? Not that I minded the implication. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t been thinking about myself. Maybe there was something between us. A notion that was even more cemented in my mind after our coffee chat this morning.
Stephen and Kent were hanging around behind Marcus’s chair, waiting for my answer. I glanced at the three faces staring back at me and sighed. “Fine, you caught me, I had dinner with Sophia. But let’s put the wedding registry on hold, all right?”
They laughed. Marcus tossed his hands up. “Probably a safe bet. Lawley’s gonna be a big-time CIA guy. He can’t off and marry a famous singer. No matter how much he wants a taste of that—”
“Napier! Shut it,” I barked.
Marcus stopped his taunt, but chuckled all the way back to his desk.
The biggest problem wasn’t being heckled, it was the fact that Marcus was right. It was the same message the not-so-little voice in my head told me—the unbreakable one—the logical one. That little voice had followed me around for my entire life. In most cases, it was a good thing, kept me from jumping off barn roofs thinking I could fly, or out of fights with bullies two times my size, and all the other shit guys usually end up getting themselves messed up in. But in this case, I wished I could drown out the nagging thought that chasing Sophia was pointless and would likely leave me with nothing but the urge to take a cold shower.
“How long is she here?” Kent asked, lounging against the top of Marcus’s chair, sending him tipping backwards. Marcus shot Kent a dirty look and jerked upright again. Kent pocketed his hands and waited for my answer.
“Ten days,” I replied. “Technically, eight left. She’s got four concerts spread out over those days and filming for some TV special they’re running back home.”
“Aha,” Marcus said, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “That’s plenty of time. Come on, Lawley, you can seal the deal in eight days.”
I didn’t respond, instead I spun around to get to work, starting with cleaning the top of my damned desk.
Marcus and company took the hint—thankfully—and went back to their own work stations, picking up wherever they’d left off when they’d stopped to heckle my entrance. The silence in the room was only broken by the slapping of file folders, shuffled papers, and keyboard clicks. After a few minutes, the tense silence started to eat at me. I sighed. “Anyone wanna go to Sophia’s concert tonight?”
Marcus, Kent, and Stephen all chuckled. Marcus said, “You need three wingmen? Jeeze, Lawley, I gave you more credit than that.”
With a roll of my eyes, I chucked a rubber band ball across the room at him.
****
Later that night, with my three self-proclaimed wingmen in tow, I filed into the auditorium. The room had undergone a drastic transformation since earlier that morning when I’d escorted Sophia to the entryway. Soft white twinkling lights covered every surface, bathing the room in a light glow. On the stage, three fake Christmas trees were decked out with ornaments, tinsel, and more lights. Cameras and speakers were concealed behind more decorations and an instrumental version of Silent Night played as the troops filled the room.
We took seats in the middle of the room, having arrived early enough to get our pick, and found paper programs lying on the chairs. I studied the line-up, wondering how long I’d have to wait to see Sophia again. She’d been on my mind all day, eagerly waiting for the chance to see her perform, wondering just how much more she could blow my mind.
And boy, did she.
Watching Sophia perform was like something from a dream. I’d never been much for concerts, that was always my sister, Rebecca’s thing, but the few I’d been to over my teen years, were nothing compared to watching Sophia on stage. It wasn’t a flashy, pop music type of show with pyrotechnics and backup dancers, but somehow made it all the more mesmerizing because of the simplicity. Sophia was radiant in a red dress that hugged her lush curves and had me counting down the minutes until I could get her alone. Truly alone. I knew the perfect spot and hadn’t been able to stop thinking about taking her there all damn day.
I ignored the knowing glances, winks, and whispered comments from the guys on either side of me, blocking all their chatter out to focus on Sophia alone. I knew there was no way she could see me from her spot on the stage, but when her eyes swept the crowd, it was hard not to wonder if her beautiful smile was for me.
Damn, Lawley, you’re turning into a real fanboy, aren’t you? She’s not the Backstreet Boys and you are not a fourteen-year-old girl. Get it together!
The music died down long enough to give the audience a chance to applaud. When Sophia took the microphone again, the music stayed low. “Thank you so much,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “I appreciate you all taking the time to be here tonight. I hope you’re enjoying the show!” More thunderous applause and more than a few catcalls. “But really, the other performers and I are here to show appreciation and thanks for all of you! As some of you may know, I’ve had a bit of a rough year, and honestly, knowing I was coming here to meet all of you and bring some holiday cheer has been my saving grace over the last few months. So, thank you all, from the bottom of my heart. You are here, sacrificing time with your own family and friends at this special time of year, so that all of us back home can enjoy our holidays knowing that we have you all here watching our backs.”
Sophia paused and set the microphone back in the tall stand long enough to applaud, her own clapping swallowed up by the large room until the other acts who had performed before her, all rushed onto the stage, applauding and cheering loud enough to fill the room. Everyone in the audience joined in and a deafening noise rang through the large space.
When it died down, Sophia took the microphone again, tossing the trailing part of her dress back behind her legs before she could get tangled. She beamed out at the audience. “This is the last number of the show, so we thought we would all join together. We’d like to invite you all to sing along.”
The song Santa Claus is Coming to Town started playing and everyone smiled with sentiment as the bands on stage started singing. The crowd joined in, only stopping when a cluster of men in white beards and cla
ssic Santa suits raced in through the side exits, large bags strapped to their backs. A chorus of Ho Ho Ho’s punctuated the song as it went to an instrumental chorus. The guys in Santa suits spread out, each taking a section of troops, and started handing out wrapped packages. Each box was a different size and there didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason as the gifts were doled out to cheering soldiers.
My eyes returned to Sophia, wondering what it was she had referred to when she’d told the audience that she’d been having a rough year. She seemed to assume some of the attendees would know what she was talking about, but I had no clue. I never paid much attention to celebrity gossip and hadn’t even thought to Google her after we’d first met.
Marcus elbowed me and handed me a shiny package wrapped in red paper with a huge silver bow on top. Sophia started singing again and I tucked the package under my arm to join in with the rest of the crowd as the song closed out.
When the last of the gifts had been distributed, Sophia gave a final speech, “Thank you, everyone! Truly, it’s been an honor. We’ll be out signing autographs and taking pictures in the dining hall. So, if you’re interested, please come by. Thank you and goodnight!”
The crowd applauded wildly for the concert and the gifts as the bands all took one final bow and waved their way off stage. Sophia went last, her long dress trailing behind her. A surge of hot blood roared through me as Blake Powell caught up to her, offering her his arm. She shot him a scowl, but quickly flicked the edges up into a smile as though she realized the entire roomful of people were watching her, and allowed him to lead her the rest of the way.
“Damn, that girl can really belt it, huh?” Marcus commented.
I just nodded.
Kent and Stephen were tearing into their gifts, a pair of wireless headphones for Kent and a pair of designer sunglasses for Stephen—which they immediately exchanged with one another.
“You going to see her?” Marcus asked me as we shuffled along the row of chairs as the auditorium emptied. It was slow going as most of the other troops were more interested in their gifts.
