“It was the cold,” Remington told her again.
“And being stuck holding me all night so my teeth wouldn’t chatter and keep you awake,” Wynter added, winking at Remington.
Remington laughed softly. “Okay,” she said as she got out of the bunk.
“Wait,” Wynter said, putting her hand out to stop her. “Did I just finally win an argument with you?” she asked, her looked awed.
Remington looked amusedly back at her. “If that’s the way you’d like to see it,” she said, inclining her head.
Wynter stared back at Remington openmouthed, and saw the grin curling Remington’s lips and the mischievous light in her eyes.
“Oh my God, you suck!” Wynter said, reaching out to smack Remington’s arm playfully.
Remington laughed and once again, Wynter realized how much she liked the sound of her laugh. She didn’t do it very often, so it was to be savored when she did.
Wynter and Remington joined Quinn and Xandy at the table in the front of the bus, grabbing coffee from the kitchen on their way. Quinn and Remington talked about their upcoming day and the security issues they might have.
“The auditorium actually looks pretty decent in terms of security,” Remington was saying, showing Quinn layout on her laptop. “Mostly, we’ll need people at the sides to ensure no one goes behind the curtains here and here.”
Quinn nodded. “That shouldn’t be too hard,” she said. “What about this area here?”
“Yeah, that’s the challenge,” Remington said. “They haven’t done a lot of upgrades on security.”
Again, Quinn nodded. “The stage setup’s gonna be different too, because it’s a flat venue, not as deep,” she explained.
“Yeah, we’re gonna have to talk to the guys when we get there. I’m not sure how they’re going to build around that.”
“My bet is they’ll go up,” Quinn said. “That’s what they did for a few of Xandy’s shows, and that’s usually the way BJ plans it.”
Remington nodded. “Good to know.”
As the bodyguards continued to talk, Xandy scrolled through Facebook and then got a message about a breaking story. She tapped the message, which took her to a newsfeed. She read it and grimaced, glancing over at Wynter who was sipping her coffee and looking out the window at the scenery flying by outside. She looked pointedly over at Quinn then. Quinn glanced up, seeing Xandy’s look and raised her chin, asking a question without a word. Xandy tilted her head toward her iPad, and then tapped out a message, sending it to Quinn’s phone.
“ Story about Lauren on MSN, saying she’s been seen making out with various women in West Hollywood!” was the message she sent Quinn.
“ Bloody hell! Doesn’t look like she knows,” was Quinn’s response.
“ Should we tell her?” Xandy sent back.
“ Wouldn’t you want to know?” Quinn replied.
Xandy raised her head looking at Quinn, her look pained, as she nodded.
“Um, Wynter…” Xandy began hesitantly.
“Hmm?” Wynter murmured, looking over at Xandy and seeing her hesitant look. “What?” she asked worriedly.
Remington looked over at Xandy and Wynter to see what was going on having seen Quinn’s tense look as well as hearing Xandy’s tone.
Xandy turned her iPad around and pointed to the story in her news feed. Wynter leaned forward, setting her coffee down as she read the story. Remington could see Wynter’s hand shaking as she lifted it to scroll further down on the story. She looked over at Quinn who grimaced shaking her head.
“What is it?” Remington asked Wynter, her tone purposefully gentle.
Wynter shook her head as she continued to read. After another minute, she pushed Xandy’s iPad back to her and stood up, walking back to the bunks. Remington, who had stood when Wynter had, leaned forward slightly, watching her go and saw her crawl into the lower bunk.
“What was that about?” she asked quietly, looking between Quinn and Xandy.
“Lauren has been seen screwing around on Wynter,” Quinn said.
Remington blew her breath out, nodding. “Who reported it?” she asked.
“TMZ,” Xandy said.
“Okay.”
Remington walked back toward the bunks. She squatted down next to the bunk Wynter was in, putting herself at her eye level. Wynter was lying on her side, her arm up under her head, staring off into space.
“You okay?” Remington asked softly.
Wynter blinked slowly, then rubbed her face on her arm and shrugged.
“Xandy said it was on TMZ,” Remington said, “and you know it could be complete fiction. Kind of like that story about you and me.”
Wynter blinked again, then focused her look on Remington’s face.
“Do you think that’s what it is?” she asked, her voice toneless.
“I think you shouldn’t believe it until you talk to Lauren,” Remington said.
Wynter looked pensive but finally she nodded, and sat up to reach for her phone. Remington stood up and walked away, giving Wynter privacy to make her phone call.
Twenty minutes later Wynter walked back up to the table.
“She says it’s all bullshit, that they saw her talking to one of her friends who was having a rough time with her girlfriend,” Wynter said, sitting down.
Quinn and Xandy exchanged a quick look. Quinn’s eyebrow went up slightly, she didn’t believe it for a second, but didn’t say anything.
Remington nodded, catching the look between Quinn and Xandy.
“Good,” Xandy said, smiling.
An hour later, they pulled into Columbia, South Carolina. Xandy and Wynter looked out the windows. It looked like a small town.
“Why’d BJ book this?” Wynter wondered out loud.
“I don’t know,” Xandy said, “but it’s sold out completely.”
The buses pulled up to the venue. It was a historical-looking building, made up of red brick and white plaster. It didn’t look impressive at all.
“Maybe there’s been a mistake…” Wynter wondered.
“Let’s go see,” Quinn said, standing as the bus stopped.
When they got off the bus, they could hear Billy bitching immediately.
“What the fuck is this!” Billy yelled, standing with her hands on her hips.
Jerith moved past his lead singer and walked up the steps to the venue. Jordan and Dylan followed him, as did Wynter and Xandy. As they walked into the venue, past the front doors and into the main hall, they suddenly understood why BJ had booked it. It was an awesome venue!
“Oh my God, this is so cool…” Wynter breathed, glancing over at Xandy who was nodding.
“And they went up…” Quinn said, watching the work being carried out on the stage.
“You called it,” Remington said, grinning.
The stage usually had a graduated platform for the various artists to move around during their performance. Since the stage in this particular venue wasn’t as deep, the platform had been built using levels that went up, rather than out. It was something the artists were going to need to adjust for in preparation for the show and was why BJ had made sure they arrived early.
They spent the day doing the usual sound checks and working around the new stage setup. Remington and Quinn went through security, briefing the temporary help as well as the few guards with the tour.
By three that afternoon, everyone was tired and wanted to rest. The talent had rooms at a local inn and the rest of the group had rooms at a nearby hotel. The inn was an old Victorian-style home, with wood floors and individual rooms and, thankfully, private bathrooms for each room. The room Remington and Wynter walked into was simple, with absolutely no technology, no TV, no radio. The owner had proudly declared however, that they did have Wi-Fi . Once again, there was a single queen bed in the room. Remington made a short sucking sound between her teeth, but said nothing. Wynter did her best not to grin.
“Okay, I need noise,” Wynter said, digging through the sui
tcase Remington had just set on the bed.
She pulled out a small speaker and used the Wi-Fi to connect it to her phone. Music soon filled the room, and Wynter danced around to the music as she pulled items out of her suitcase. Remington checked out the bathroom, noting there was a clawfoot tub with no shower.
“Espektakilè…” she muttered.
“What?” Wynter asked from behind her.
Remington stood back, nodding toward the tub.
“Oh, cute,” Wynter said, then saw Remington’s look. “Oh, I guess not cute for you huh?”
Remington gave a long sigh, shaking her head as she walked out of the bathroom. Wynter pressed her lips together grinning. She felt bad for Remington, but she also found her facial expressions endlessly amusing.
“What was that you said anyway?” Wynter asked, as she set some of her toiletries on the vanity in the bathroom.
“When?” Remington queried.
“Uh, when you walked into the bathroom…” Wynter said, walking back out into the room, seeing Remington’s perplexed look. “You do realize you were speaking Creole, right?”
Remington quirked a grin. “Actually, no, I didn’t,” she said. “I said ‘spectacular.’ ”
“Say it again,” Wynter said, her look captivated, “in Creole.”
Remington looked back at her quizzically for a moment, but then said, “Espektakilè.”
Wynter smiled broadly, her eyes sparkling. “I just love your language,” she said, “especially the accent.”
Remington smiled bemusedly, inclining her head. “Well, thank you.”
“And you really don’t realize when you speak it instead of English sometimes?” Wynter asked.
Remington shook her head. “No, it’s what we spoke primarily in our household growing up, so some things just come to me in Creole instead of English and it comes out.”
“Interesting…” Wynter said, smiling and shaking her head. “I’d love to learn it if you’re willing to teach me.”
Remington’s look flickered with surprise, but she nodded. “Sure.”
“Cool!” Wynter said, smiling brightly. “I’m gonna go take a bath,” she said nodding toward the bathroom. “Did you need it first?”
“I’m good, thank you,” Remington said, shaking her head.
“I’m gonna leave the door open a little so I can hear my music, okay?” Wynter said then.
“Ah, you can take your music in there,” Remington told her, her tone ever so slightly alarmed.
Wynter heard the tone and had to force herself not to giggle. “It’s okay, I don’t want to leave you stuck in all this silence,” she said gesturing around the room with dismay.
Remington tilted her head, stretching her neck, trying to think of something, anything to say that would keep Wynter from leaving the bathroom door open. Unfortunately, her temporary silence was taken as acquiescence, so Wynter walked into the bathroom closing the door only part way. Naturally, the opening in the door faced directly at the bathtub.
“Li ap eseye touye m’mwen konnen li,” she muttered under her breath. She’s trying to kill me I know it .
“I’m gonna go talk to Quinn for a minute,” Remington announced, pleased with herself for thinking of that. “Don’t leave the room, okay?”
“Gonna be naked, Remi,” Wynter said amused. “I doubt I’ll leave the room!”
Remington looked heavenward, “Bondye ede m ',” she said louder than she’d meant to.
“What?” Wynter queried from the bathroom.
“Nothing, I’ll be back,” Remington called and left the room as quickly as she could, picking up her cigarettes and lighter on the way out.
Remington made her way down to the front porch of the house, still mentally patting herself on the back for her quick escape. Quinn was down on the porch smoking as well.
“Hey,” Quinn said, looking surprised to see her.
“Hey,” Remington said, lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag, feeling the smoke fill her lungs.
Quinn noted the deep draw and raised an eyebrow.
“Problems?” she queried.
Remington shook her head. “Unless you count the fact that Wynter’s trying to fuckin’ kill me, no,” she said wryly.
Quinn threw her head back and laughed. “Well, yeah that might count as a problem,” she said, her Irish accent clear in the quiet of the porch.
“She’s up there right now taking a bath, and she told me she was going to leave the door open…” Remington said, her voice trailing off a she took another drag.
“Why?” Quinn asked. “I mean, why did she say it?” she clarified at the deadpan look she got from Remington.
“She said it was because she didn’t want to leave me in the silence, she’s got her music going.”
Quinn nodded, running her tongue over her teeth, grinning. “Do you prefer silence?”
“To taking the chance of catching sight of her naked, hell yes!” Remington exclaimed.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Quinn asked seriously. “Do you know how many women would kill to see Wynter Kincade naked?”
“You included?” Remington asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Ah, no,” Quinn said, holding up her hands in surrender. “I got my own star, thanks. Seriously though, Rem, why wouldn’t you just go for that?”
Remington blew her breath out, shaking her head as she started to pace.
“I have a girlfriend, she has a girlfriend,” Remington said.
“Yeah, she has a girlfriend that’s fuckin’ around on her,” Quinn said derisively.
Remington looked back at Quinn sharply. “So you and Xandy don’t believe that story Lauren told her?”
Quinn made a dismissive sound. “That little bouzzie is so full of shite her eyes should be brown,” she said.
Remington chuckled at Quinn’s statement.
“Yeah, it sounded like bullshit to me too,” she said, “but if Wynter wants to buy it, who am I to argue?”
“You’re right, it’s not your place,” Quinn said, nodding. “Regardless, if she wants to nail you…” she said then, her voice trailing off as she lifted her hands to indicate helplessness.
“I have a girlfriend,” Remington said simply.
Quinn gave her a pointed look. “Have you and Katrina agreed to be exclusive already?”
Remington looked back at Quinn, putting her tongue against her teeth, finally shaking her head. “We didn’t really discuss it, no, but that doesn’t mean it’s not expected.”
“And you’re just graspin’ now,” Quinn said with a knowing look.
Remington blew her breath out again, leaning her head back against the wall, looking up at the porch ceiling.
“I’m not looking to become some notch on Wynter’s bedpost,” she said. “That’s not me.”
Quinn frowned, but nodded. “So maybe she’d be a notch on yours.”
Remington glanced sharply over at Quinn. “Definitely not my style.”
Quinn narrowed her eyes at Remington. “I’ve seen the women ’round you, Rem, you leave ’em creamin’ every time, don’t pull that innocent shit with me.”
Remington laughed at that. “I haven’t done that intentionally,” she said, qualifying it with, “lately.”
“But before, what?” Quinn asked.
“Back in New York, yeah, all the time,” Remington said, shrugging and shaking her head, “but not since I hit LA.”
“And why the hell not?” Quinn asked, her look unabashed.
Remington shook her head. “How do you think I ended up with shit like the Akasha situation?”
“Oh ho…” Quinn said, her eyes widening. “So was there some truth to Akasha’s statements about Sage Baker?”
“No,” Remington said immediately. “Well, I admit I flirted with Sage, just like I flirted with half of the women in New York, gay or straight. But she did come on to me, not the other way around.”
“And what happened there?” Quinn asked.
<
br /> “She showed up at my apartment, saying she wanted to talk about Akasha. Got inside and dropped her coat wearing nothing but a smile.”
Quinn gave a slow blink as her face reflected shocked admiration. “Damn… and I imagine she has the body to go with that incredible face?”
“Oh, she has a body that would make angels weep,” Remington confirmed.
“And you didn’t hit that?” Quinn asked, once again looking at Remington like she was crazy.
“She was someone else’s girl, Quinn. I don’t do that, not ever,” Remington said.
Quinn gave a low whistle, shaking her head. “You got more self-control than me.”
Remington gave a low chuckle. “For all the fuckin’ good it did me. She went back and told Akasha I called her over to my place and tried to jump her.”
“Bitch…” Quinn said, looking disgusted.
“You’re tellin’ me,” Remington said. She glanced at her watch then. “How long do women usually take in the tub? Think I’m safe yet?”
Quinn chuckled. “Couldn’t tell ya.”
“Xandy doesn’t take baths?” Remington queried, grinning.
“If she does, I’m usually in there with her, so… I don’t really pay attention to time.”
“Aw,” Remington said, shaking her head and clearing her throat pointedly. “Did Xandy do this kind of shit to you when you were guarding her?”
“No,” Quinn said, shaking her head, “Xandy wouldn’t even consider that kind of thing, ’specially as she was straight back then.”
“Oh, yeah,” Remington said, nodding. “So you’re no help at all.”
“Sorry,” Quinn said.
Remington pulled out another cigarette. “One more, then I’ll go back up.”
“Uh-huh,” Quinn said, grinning. “So what’s happening with Billy? She’s eased up lately, hasn’t she?”
“Thankfully,” Remington said, shaking her head. “She just does it to piss Wynter off.”
“And why do you think it pisses Wynter off?” Quinn asked with a pointed look.
Remington caught the look, and narrowed her eyes slightly. “I’m not sure,” she said. “You know she told me that she says some of the shit she does to me, just to get me to react.”
Lightning Strykes Page 12
