by Murphy,Misti
Like Adelaide did. My sister would have jumped at the chance I was given tonight. After all that’s what got her in trouble in the first place. Not Rush Hadley, but someone like him. Someone who didn’t particularly care what groupie he shoved his dick in. Or what happened to her after he’d finished with her. As long as he got to hit it and quit it. I’d rather be a nun than go through the same thing my sister did.
I startle when mom places a cup of steaming camomile tea in between my hands and then sits opposite me, cradling her own. “I’m too old and tired to dance around what’s bothering you, kiddo. But, I did spend the last twenty-one years raising you, so I know there’s something.”
“There isn’t.” I shake my head and sip my tea. “It was a long night and Rush Hadley is a pretentious prick who thinks he’s entitled to any woman he chooses.”
“Hmm.” She twists her lips and leans back. I can’t make eye contact with her when she studies me like I’m an insect under the microscope. She has an uncanny knack for pulling the truth out of people. But then she’s had plenty of practice. Before Sarah she was a counsellor, and now, I know she’s always got some neighbor or other around for a cup of tea and a chat. “I don’t think so.”
Getting people to tell her their worries is my mother’s biggest talent, but that doesn’t mean she needs mine when there’s already enough on her plate. I scrub a palm over the rough worn wood of the dining table, avoiding her keen gaze. He was amazing, and down to earth, and he offered me the world. “It really doesn’t matter.”
“Max Holland O’Keeffe.” She heaves a sigh, sighting me down her nose. “Now I know it isn’t nothing. Spill, girl.”
I take another sip of my tea. Is there any point in even discussing what happened tonight? It’s not like I can change my mind. Sarah needs me. My mother needs me. I’ll just… work harder. There has to be some way I can make myself indispensable without landing the biggest damn interview of my life. Ugh. I slump in my seat and shrug. “He offered me an interview. No holds barred, exclusive.”
“So what’s the problem?” She leans across the tiny table and scrapes one of my curls, the one Rush played with earlier while he smiled at me with that smug mouth of his, out of my face. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“It comes with conditions.” I clamber out of my seat, taking my cup to the sink and rinsing it. “I had to say no.”
I curl my arms about my waist. May as well get used to it. Even if I manage to keep my job with the talk of downsizing on the horizon, sooner or later they’re going to ask me to do something I can’t because of Sarah. Because my sister couldn’t get her act together. Damn Addie! How could you have left this all on us?
“So these conditions? What were they?” Mom’s hand lands on my shoulder, warm and firm and supportive.
“Maybe I’m not cut out for this career. I need to find something stable that doesn’t have me gallivanting around to shows and concerts. Something where I can be home at night for Sarah. I said I’d look after her, take responsibility.” I squeeze my eyes shut. Why is the idea of being unable to do this job getting to me tonight? Why is turning down this interview bothering me so much? I may resent my sister, but I love that baby girl. It isn’t her fault I wasn’t prepared to become a mother. “I shouldn’t be relying so heavily on you. I can see how tired you are. And this was supposed to be your time—”
“So what were the conditions?” Mom says quietly, and I know she isn’t going to rest until I tell her.
“He wants me to spend a couple months with him.”
Using the same tone she did when I was a teenager and in trouble, she grumbles, “He wants you to sleep with him?”
Probably. He certainly expected me to tonight. But that’s not the issue. I can hold my own against him easily enough. I think. “No, there are some events he wants me to accompany him to. A sort of fake date. In return he’d do the interview. But I’m not going. I can’t leave you and Sarah for that long.” I sag against the counter, my elbows on the Formica. “I’ll… turn in the quote, and start looking for another job. Something less demanding, that will give me more time with Sarah and make it easier on you.”
She taps her finger against the bow of her top lip. “You’ll do no such thing. I remember you swanning around with a microphone and a notebook when you were five years old, interviewing everyone you came across. This is your dream.”
“But Sarah—”
“When you took responsibility of her after your sister died...” Mom winces. She never speaks Adelaide’s name anymore. “I told you it would be the hardest thing you’d ever do. That little girl would depend on you for everything.”
“Which is why there is no way I can take this opportunity. I can’t up and leave for two months, Mom. That isn’t fair.”
“I also told you I’d be there to help you.” She smiles softly. “So you’ll go. Sarah and I will get along fine while you’re gone. And when you get back and your career takes off we’ll find a way to make the rest work.”
I glance at the slim silver link watch on my wrist. “They’ve probably left already.” Or they will in three hours. “There’s not enough time to call Eliza, pack, and get to the airport if I wanted to. Which I don’t.”
“Yes you do.” She pulls me in for a hug. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
I see a very vivid image of myself stranded in an airport with planes taking off all around me, and Eliza screaming at me about how much of a failure I am while I juggle an armful of babies.
“Get out of your head and stop worrying so much.” She clicks her fingers in my face. “Go pack. I’ll call you a cab and you can call Eliza on the way. From what you told me about Rush Hadley, no one will say no to you getting that interview.”
She pushes me away from her, hustles me back to the steps. “Now get moving.”
Chapter Four
Rush
I run a finger along the brim of my baseball cap, tugging it down lower over my sunglasses as I cross my ankles and lean against one of the columns near the entrance to the Sydney Airport International Terminal.
I don’t think anyone has made me yet. The people passing me at this time of the morning are bleary eyed and way too interested in getting into line to check their bags. Thank God for that. Normally, I wouldn’t step foot inside the terminal, opting instead to take the limousine right onto the tarmac where customs would meet us as we boarded my jet. But this morning I didn’t have much of a choice.
Sure, I could have asked Mick to haul his ass into the terminal to wait and see if the girl showed up, but then I would have been stuck with him on the flight home, and as much as I enjoy the old bastard’s company the last thing I want to do today is to talk shop. I’ve just finished a five-month tour. Plans for our next show can wait a few weeks. Besides, he’s been giving me that ‘you’re getting old’ speech too often of late. And I’m not interested.
Settling down is what you do when you’ve gone as high as you can with your life. When you’re at the pinnacle, looking down at everything you’ve accomplished. And I’m not there yet. I’m nowhere near that point in my life. There’s always the next girl, the next show, the next tour. Why would I want to complicate a life I love by allowing a woman, any woman to hold me back?
I make another pass at scanning the crowd coming through the glass doors. Just because the rest of my family seems perfectly fucking content to tie themselves up in love, doesn’t mean I want to. It makes sense for them, but I’m not like the rest of them. I never have been. It’s just not me.
I spot Maxi behind a group of young male backpackers, their hiking packs almost blocking my view of her. I step off from the column. I knew she’d come. I knew she couldn’t resist the offer. I was as certain of her as I am of the fact that I’ll never find myself enamoured by a singular woman.
Fuck though, she’s… well, she’s beautiful. And not in the way most girls I meet are pretty, with their curves and willingness to jump my bones. She’s obviously a prud
e, an uptight goody two-shoes, and her body is a little too angular. The soft, worn jeans and nautical striped top she opted for over the alluring little skirt and business shirt combo from last night cling to her, highlighting a lack of curves, but her bouncy ringlets are mussed and sticking out in every direction as she drags two black suitcases behind her. There’s something about the fact she’s so serious, and yet that hair makes her look more than a little wild, that makes me want to unwrap her and see what’s hiding on the inside.
Now that she’ll be stuck with me for the next couple months or until I send her home, whichever comes first, I damn well intend to find out. She couldn’t turn down the idea of getting the dirt on me anymore than she’ll be able to turn down spending time in my bed. Sure, she’s making the best of playing hard to get, and it’s working for her. There’s no way I would have invited her on this trip if she’d let me fuck her in my dressing room. There’s something prickly about the girl that has me entertained. I almost rub my palms together at the challenge of seducing her. It’s been a long time, maybe never, since I’ve had to work for what I want. I can’t shake the grin off my face as I weave past the backpackers and an elderly couple shuffling hand in hand to grab her suitcases. “Took your time, sweet cheeks. I was almost ready to leave without you.”
“You’re going the wrong way.” She scurries after me, shouldering her laptop satchel and oversized purse. The woman doesn’t travel light.
“Customs will meet us on the tarmac. I’ve got a limo waiting to take us to the jet.” Striding ahead of her, I exit the airport and head for the car waiting at the curb. A discrete distance away I catch a glimpse of a pap, his hands going automatically to his camera. It was only a matter of time before someone caught onto me.
“You waited in the airport for me? You didn’t know if I was coming.” I can hear the click of her heels on the concrete behind me. For a shorty she manages to keep up without too much issue.
“No one turns me down. I knew you’d show. Your curiosity got the better of you.” The chauffer comes around the back to take her suitcases, but I toss them in the trunk before he has a chance to take them from me. “Besides, you were the one begging for an interview. Now get in the car.”
“You’re so sure of yourself aren’t you?” She climbs in before me. “You have the most overinflated sense of self I think I’ve ever seen.”
“Quite possibly.” I slip in beside her before the dick with the camera can get any closer.
“Well, I hope you understand I only said yes to the interview. I’m not going to change my mind on other things.”
“Take us to the jet,” I tell the driver, not even trying to fight the grin at knowing what she means by other things, and the fact that she’s thinking about sleeping with me. Settling back, I knock my shoulder to hers. “You’re going to be saying, no screaming, yes to a lot of things before this little adventure is over with.”
“I highly doubt that.” She arches a brow and sticks her nose up in the air. “You’re a job, that’s all. Once I have everything I need and this deal is done I’m coming home, and I can tell you now, I’ll still be innocent to your particular brand of fuckery.”
“Is that a vow, little nun?” I tease. “Or are you trying to tell me you’re a virgin?”
“It’s a statement.” A wash of scarlet floods her face as she scowls at me, her chest heaving over clenched arms. It draws my eye to the outline of her breasts. She has some nice curves after all.
Stretching out, I give her space to fume. It’s only a quick ride down to where the jet’s waiting for us to board, and riling her up might not be the best way to keep her from changing her mind about coming with me. Then I’ll have to do those weddings on my own. I’ll have to sit and listen to my parents talking about my life and when I’m going to settle down. I’ll have to deal with all that cotton candy sweet love that seems to have infected my family. No, I want her as a buffer, as entertainment while I’m on this sabbatical to my hometown.
When the limo pulls up, I jump out and offer her my hand. She ignores it as she climbs out, then swipes her hands on her jeans, glancing up at the plane. “Maybe, this is a bad idea.”
“Look, we got off on the wrong foot,” I tell her while we wait for the driver to drop her bags on the tarmac. A customs officer is heading toward us as we speak. “I’m not really the biggest asshole you ever met. I just find it fascinating that you’re so damn against me, when you don’t know me. But I get it.” I put my hands up in mock surrender. “You won’t hear any more from me on getting into your panties. Not unless you bring it up first.”
“I won’t.” She bites her lip, and hitches her laptop case over her shoulder. “But that isn’t it.”
“Then what is it?”
She shakes her head and hitches her laptop bag higher on her shoulder before moving ahead of me. “Sooner we get on this plane the sooner I get home, right?”
I suck air through my teeth. She can’t wait to get away from me, but I have to admire her stubbornness to do something she doesn’t want to for an interview. “Yeah, I don’t think it works like that.”
It doesn’t take too long to deal with customs and get her bags on board. While she settles in, glancing about the cabin like she’s never been on a plane, I kick off my shoes and go into the galley to mix a couple stiff drinks. I’ve been on the go for almost twenty-four hours straight, and I’ve barely stopped in five months, constantly working. I’m wired and not in a good way.
Both glasses in one hand, the bottle in the other, I head back to where she’s seated and drop one in her hand. “You drink?”
“Yeah. Sometimes. Not often, at least not in the last eight months.” She exhales and stares out the window. “I’m rambling.”
“Go ahead.” I flop down on the long leather couch and throw back half my drink. It’s going to take a good third of the bottle to get me to the point I can sleep, despite the sheer exhaustion weighing me down. Being up, being on the go for months on end, as much as I love it, has a way of making it hard to switch off. “Should I take it this is your first time flying?”
“Kind of.” She sips her drink and makes a face before setting it down on the table beside her. “It’s silly. I’ve flown before, but not overseas.”
“And you’re nervous?”
She titters and rubs her palms up and down her arms. “Not of flying.” Turning in her seat, she brings one leg up underneath her. “Okay, this is going to sound so stupid. I’m being ridiculous, but I’m scared of crashing.”
“That’s fairly normal.” I finish my drink and pour some more whisky, straight. “I can’t think of anyone who wouldn’t be scared of crashing.” I probably should change the conversation to something a little less morbid this close to take off.
“I don’t think everyone is scared of crashing into the ocean and then being eaten by sharks.” She leans even more forward in her seat, one sleeve falling off her shoulder and exposing a delicious sliver of skin. “I’m really freaking scared of sharks.”
I press my lips together, but can’t hold back a chuckle. Who the hell gets on a plane and has their first thoughts turn to sharks? It’s kind of quirky, different from the type of conversation I’m used to. I’m trying not to look at that strip of skin, trying to come up with something to say to distract her from the sharks she’s probably imagining swimming around in the clouds, but I fail hard. There’s this tiny swirl of ink there, only the tip of whatever tattoo she’s hiding. It’s like a blatant sign begging me to follow it below her collar. Shifting in my seat, I adjust my crotch to deal with my dick that refuses to get the message this is one girl he won’t be tapping. Or, at least not on his timeline.
She’s a trick. A magic trick, like any other sleight of hand. I just have to work out how to fool her into believing it’s her idea to get closer to me. Sitting up, I finish my drink as the jet taxis off the runway and she gives a little yelp. “So how about you ask me one of those questions you’ve got prepared. I know you’re d
ying to get me naked.”
“Naked?” She stops gripping the seat back, and although she doesn’t loosen up, the tension in her muscles shifts to being annoyed at me again.
“Wrong choice of words?” I smirk, clasping my hands behind my head as we start to ascend. “Naked.” It was most definitely the right choice of words, aimed to give her a very clear mental picture, a reminder of what she’s already seen up close and personal. And with the way her cheeks pink, her mind’s gone exactly where I wanted it to. “I meant you’re dying to write your expose, aren’t you?”
Chapter Five
Maxi
Having been lucky enough to spend a sixteen-hour flight in his solitary company, it becomes clear that the man behind the Rush tours, the TV series, and Vegas shows, is intelligent, self-motivated, and determined. It’s no wonder he’s listed as one of the Forbes top 10 richest and most eligible bachelors. Of course, if you want him, ladies, you’re going to have to catch him first. – Max O’Keeffe, Godiva
“W-what’s your biggest fear?” I can’t believe I stammer when asking him the question, but my mind is in the gutter, or more like in his pants, right behind the zip of those worn designer jeans he’s flaunting.
“That’s where you want to start?” He sinks down on the couch again, tapping his fingertips together.
“I told you mine.” I scoot a little closer to the aisle space between us. “The least you can do is tell me yours.”
“Isn’t that supposed to be I’ll show you mine if you show me yours? You’ve already gotten a front row view.”
Ooooh. I curl my fingers and relax them against my thighs as I glance around for something to throw at him. Not that I actually would, but my glass is in easy reach, and the idea of throwing the contents in his face brings some pretty vivid imagery.
His wet shirt clings to his defined muscles, droplets falling from his hair as he shakes it off and gives me that sexy grin. He’s out of his seat, moving toward me…
