I’m a failure, I’m being stalked, and my manager thinks I need a babysitter.
“I’m having some issues with my new album,” I said instead as I spread moisturizer on my skin. “Serious writer’s block.”
“Of course you are,” Lacey said confidently.
“What do you mean, of course I am?” I demanded.
“Well, hell, Paisley, when’s the last time you did something crazy? Have you had an adventure recently?”
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but she cut me off.
“Tours don’t count. They’re normal by now.”
Deflated, I stared at my toes and wiggled them. I could use a pedicure, I thought.
“It’s been a while,” I confessed.
“Mm-hm. And when was the last time you had more than two dates with the same person?”
I sighed sharply. “It’s not that easy.”
“How?” She laughed. “I’ve seen your artist page, Paisley. You literally have guys throwing themselves at you by the hundred, every single day.”
“Yeah, when I’m a fantasy,” I argued. “Do you know how hard this job is on a relationship? Nobody actually wants to date a celebrity.”
“Why not?” she asked, aghast. “I would. I can think of three right off the top of my head. Justin—”
“You think you want that,” I interrupted her, “but here’s the reality. Anybody who gets with me will have to suffer through my creative spells, when nothing matters but the music. My depressive spells, where nothing matters at all…”
“Easy. You’re not as hard to deal with as you think you are. A peanut-butter sandwich and some over-carameled coffee and you’re good to go.”
I laughed. It was nice to be known like that. My laughter quickly tapered off into a bitter sigh.
“I didn’t know it would be this lonely. I’ve tried, but…guys are generally jealous creatures. Me being sort of public property rubs them the wrong way. And if I have to go red carpeting when they want to stay inside and watch the game or something, it’s a fight. And if I just let them slouch and go on my own, it’s a fight.”
“How? They get what they want, you go to work. What’s the problem?”
“I guess they expect me to blow off an A-list invitation to wear sweats and crumb up the couch.” I wrinkled my nose at the thought.
“Seriously?”
“Two out of three times. The rest of them just wait until I’m about to go on tour before they get irrational. I don’t have time to build up any kind of trust before I take off, so they bite their nails at the thought of me being around all my adoring fans, and preemptively break up with me. Like I’m too weak and needy to avoid strange men while I’m working. Oh, and the ones that don’t care? They’re all after my money, or think I’m going to be their fast track to fame.”
“Okay, easy fix,” Lacey said reasonably. “Just date another A-list celebrity.”
“I don’t have room,” I said.
“What? You have like six rooms, I’ve seen them.”
“You need a minimum of eight for all that ego,” I told her with an evil grin.
Her laughter bubbling over the line tugged at my heart. God, I wanted to go home. I just wished I knew where home was.
My parents had relocated since I moved out, into a large comfortable farmhouse. That didn’t bother me. I bought it for them, after all. But it didn’t feel like home anymore. Neither did the road, or this rental, or anything.
“I feel lost,” I told Lacey quietly. “I’m not just stuck on this album; I’m stuck all over. I don’t even know what to do about it.”
“Throw a couple planks down, hammer ’em in, and throw it in reverse,” she said.
“My life is not a truck,” I laughed at her.
“Same basic principle,” she said.
I could hear the shrug in her voice.
“You’re going to have to break that down for me.”
“Okay, so you need something to hold onto. I suggest a man. Even a temporary man. Someone to get you outside yourself. Then back it up. Pull back from the tours and the albums and everything that goes with it, crawl back the way you came until you hit solid ground.”
“Then what?” I asked, amused by the analogy.
“Gun it.”
“Well when you put it like that, it seems almost doable,” I said with a smile.
“Of course it’s doable. Now what else is bothering you?”
“Who says anything is bothering me?”
“I do,” she said cockily.
I never had been able to keep anything from her. She had the sharp eyes and quick mind of a youngest child, one who had spent her entire childhood eavesdropping for the good stuff.
“It’s Jude,” I sighed. “He’s all paranoid about me being out here all by myself. He had a bodyguard call me today with no warning, completely out of the blue. Guy tried to convince me that I needed him, and made me all paranoid. I couldn’t even enjoy my run properly.”
A long moment of silence answered me, and I looked at the screen to make sure I hadn’t dropped the call.
“Lacey?”
“I’m here,” she sighed. “It’s just… I know you want me to sympathize.”
“But?”
“But… And don’t get me wrong. You’re my big sister, of course I want to believe that you’re invincible.”
“But…?” I prompted again, impatiently.
“Well, it’s just that I keep an eye on your pages and stuff. So do Mom and Dad. You get a new creep every day, and tons of guys who may or may not fall on the creep scale. Every time you’re on TV, Dad has to take blood-pressure meds. Think about it for a second, Paisley. You’re a gorgeous twenty-four-year-old with a killer voice and a bangin’ bod. Your songs have people falling in love with you before they even see you.”
“That’s kind of the point, isn’t it?” I asked uncomfortably.
“Sure, but think about it. If anybody isn’t safe out in the middle of nowhere, alone, it’s you.”
“I’m not in the middle of nowhere,” I argued. “I can see the Memphis light pollution from my bedroom.”
“Awesome. That’ll give the stalkers light to see by,” she said sarcastically.
“Come on, Lacey,” I said plaintively. “Would you want some big hulking dolt following you around everywhere?”
“No,” she said firmly. “Which is exactly why I use my initials on my art and stick to indie films. Last thing I want is to worry about people watching me all the time.”
“Then you understand,” I breathed, relieved.
“Sure, I understand. That doesn’t mean you don’t need it.”
“What?”
“I am deliberately out of the spotlight, Pais. You are firmly in the center of it. The rules change when you hit that level of fame.”
I sighed heavily. She had a point. They all did. But I couldn’t make myself believe it, not yet. I wanted—needed—just a little bit more time with myself before I bit that bullet. Once I had personal security, it was official. I was no longer my own person; I was the property of the masses.
“You could avoid it, though,” she said thoughtfully.
“How?” I asked, eager for an alternative.
“Get yourself a boyfriend. A big, scary boyfriend who will go with you everywhere and act as a sort of bodyguard stand-in, one that you’ll actually want to be around.”
“Is that your answer for everything?” I asked her affectionately.
“Hey, never underestimate the power of a good man in your life. Seriously.”
“You talk like you know. So what’s your love life like right now?”
“Oh, you know what? I hear my paints calling. Gotta go.”
“Don’t you dare,” I laughed. “I gave you mine, now give me yours.”
“Sorry! They won’t be ignored! Call me later. Love you!”
She ended the call with a smack of her lips, and I blew a kiss back against the black screen. Talking to Lacey had made
me feel better while she was on the phone. Now that she was gone, I was alone again, in a house that had gone dark with the sunset while I sat in the bathroom. My bedroom was just down the hallway, but so was the light switch.
“I should have used the master bath,” I sighed at myself.
Heart pounding, I scuttled through the hallway as fast as I could, ducked into my room and flicked on the light, slamming the door behind me.
“Stupid,” I muttered. “You are way too old to be afraid of the dark.”
But I was afraid. The dark, the big empty house, the big empty bed. This life that I had carved for myself was full of space, all of it empty and cold. I never considered that achieving stardom would pare down my dating options so dramatically, or make sleeping beside someone such a far-off, fanciful dream.
I curled up in my mountain of pillows and hugged one to my chest. The heavy, lingering sadness pressed me deep into the mattress. The thick comforter wasn’t nearly enough to warm my chilled heart.
I fell asleep with tears on my pillow.
Chapter 4
Tyler
“She didn’t bite, huh?” Dan leaned on my dark, tiled counter, sipping a beer.
“Nah,” I said with a shrug. “Did you really expect her to?”
“Sure,” Dan said, scrunching his thick eyebrows together. “Little girl like that needs a big, strong man to take care of her.”
“I think that attitude is exactly why she shot me down,” I said, pointing at him with my beer bottle. “She accused me of taking orders from some Jude character.”
“Her manager,” Dan said, nodding sagely.
I squinted at him. “Since when do you know things?”
“Since always,” Dan said cockily. “I’ve been doing some looking into our Little Miss Celebrity. How do you think I got her number?”
“I don’t know, phone book?”
“It’s unlisted, numbskull.”
“Oh.” I frowned into my beer, then at Dan. “So how did you get it?”
“Poked around, impersonated some people. You call around at four-thirty, nobody wants to take the time to check your credentials.” Dan flashed me a shark-like grin then downed half his beer in a single gulp. “I don’t have her address yet, but I know how to get it.”
“Whatever,” I scoffed. “She’s not going to let that out anywhere.”
“She doesn’t have to,” Dan shrugged. “Other people know where she is. People who don’t have to give a crap about her.”
I stood, stretching, and paced a circle around my living room. Fighting had bought me a decent life. Soft carpet, big TV, game systems; anything a guy like me could want. I had learned to be choosy about my things after a while. Learning to live on the streets doesn’t translate well to running a house, and I had squandered a lot of the money I had made on collectible crap. I kept the stuff as a reminder that I had the ability to do it, I did it, and now I have nothing to prove.
“You thinking realtors, cable guys, someone like that?”
“Yep,” Dan said with a grin. “Friend of a friend runs cable out in the snooty boonies. Bet you ten bucks he knows exactly where she is.”
My stomach clenched slightly when he said that. It wasn’t like I was doing anything wrong. Locating a specific person wasn’t wrong. Offering my services wasn’t wrong—it was almost noble. This rationale pushed the guilt down deeply enough that I couldn’t feel it anymore. Good enough, I decided.
“So, get in touch with your friend of a friend,” I told him. “What are you waiting for?”
“Just those words,” Dan said as he pulled out his phone. “You looked like you were getting ready to bail on the plan.”
“Nah,” I lied. “Just looking for my way in.”
Dan grinned as he put the phone to his ear. “Hunter! Buddy! It’s Dan. Yeah, from the bar. What’s good?” Dan nodded and grunted intermittently for a few minutes. Hunter was a talker, apparently.
“That’s great man, that’s great. Hey, I’m trying to settle a bet. I bet my friend here fifty bucks that Paisley Abbott has her own private cable guys. I think she’s too stuck up to have a regular schmo hook her up, but my friend seems to think she’s human. What do you think? No way! Nah, man, I don’t believe you. Where?”
Dan started scribbling on the back of one of my bills.
“No, really? Roman statues? God, does she have gold toilets too?” Dan laughed uproariously, trading in blue-collar snobbery. “How the heck do you even run cable that far out? Oh, really, right on the corner there, huh? Dang. That’s pretty smart. Gotta run it uphill though, that’s gotta be tough. Oh? Down by the river! Doesn’t that place flood every year?”
Dan laughed again, wheezing through years of tobacco smoke. They chatted some more, but I had already tuned them out. Dan had the address, or at least a description that would get me close enough to figure it out. Thinking on my feet was what I did best, by necessity.
“All right, buddy. Well, I guess I lost fifty bucks. Thanks a lot. Oh no, never again, ha-ha! This guy’s one heck of an instigator. Gotta be careful or he’ll bleed me dry. Yeah. Yup. Yeah, you have a good night, Hunter. Take a shot for me, huh?”
Dan hung the phone up with a predatory grin. I raised my brows, feeling somehow defensive, and finished my beer.
“Got it?” I asked.
“Close enough,” Dan grinned. “Last mansion on the river side of Wood Duck Road. Roman fountains around the driveway, three stories. No golden toilets.”
“Aw, how the hell am I gonna find it without golden toilets?” I asked sarcastically, rolling my eyes.
Dan tapped his scrubby chin with a finger. “Once you do find it, what’s your plan?”
“I don’t know,” I said, rubbing a hand across the back of my neck. “Figure I’ll knock on her door tomorrow morning, and… What?”
Dan was shaking his head with a disappointed look on his face.
“Look, kid. She already shot you down once when you went head-on into it. Now you gotta dance. Come in sideways. That surprise one-one-two, you know what I’m saying?”
“Literally, sure. If you were telling me what to do in the ring, I’d be all over it. You’re being all metaphorical. I don’t do metaphor.” I leaned against the stupid little half-wall which separated the living room from the dining room. Why did I even have a dining room?
Realizing that I was suddenly uncomfortable with my entire life because of Dan’s stupid smirk, I glared at him impatiently.
“Sure you do,” Dan said, coming around the counter to lean heavily against it. “You can’t just ask her. Just like you can’t just ask her if she’ll screw you so you can cash out. You have to convince her that she needs you first.”
“You got any suggestions? She wasn’t real open to being convinced.” I crossed my arms, taking a defensive stance for a reason I still couldn’t identify.
“Sure do,” Dan said. “But you aren’t going to like it.”
“Try me.”
“Before I say any more, tell me what you’re going to do with your cut of the cash.” He flashed his grin at me again, and I tightened my arms. I didn’t like being played, and I could smell the manipulation on his beer-soaked breath.
“Whatever I feel like,” I said with a shrug. “Maybe buy me a boat and sail to Ibiza.”
Dan laughed. “Man, I wish I was young as you again! Get me some girls, some booze, forget half my life in the arms of some exotic beauty somewhere.” He sighed, his eyes glittering. “You best take me with you when you go.”
“Sure, Dan,” I said, knowing it wasn’t going to happen. “I’ll make sure the boat’s got an extra bunk.”
“Extra bunk? Son, you’re gonna have a whole wad of cash. Get a big boat! You need enough bedrooms for all those ladies.” He winked, licking his brown tooth.
“Nah, gonna keep it small,” I said dismissively. “Just ’cause I got it don’t mean I gotta spend it.”
Dan paced for a minute, rubbing a finger over his mustache. Pausing, he
turned to me. “This about Billy?”
I was quiet for a minute, then decided to answer honestly. “Yeah. It is. He’s still in intensive care. They said he’s stable, but…” I trailed off with a shrug. “I don’t know. They had to drill the pressure off his brain. I went and saw Jeanne. She’s holding it together, sort of. Wishes he would have walked away when the kids were born, but doesn’t blame him. Or me, either. I don’t think she knows how to blame people.”
“Gonna have to let that whole thing go, man,” Dan said, shaking his head. “You gotta focus on the big picture, here. Cash. Money.”
“Priorities,” I muttered bitterly. “How to convince Ms. Paisley Abbott that she needs a bodyguard without any arguing. All right, lay it on me. What are you thinking?”
Chapter 5
Tyler
Dan was right. I didn’t like it. It was a terrible plan, but just insane enough to work. I’d have to throw all of my cockiness behind it, the way I did when I went up against someone bigger or better or stronger than me. Swagger, I told myself.
I squatted to open the utility box at the base of the property, glancing around to check for eyes. There weren’t any, not out here. The house across the street from hers seemed to be abandoned. The next nearest house was half a mile down the road, and only had a single light burning.
“No reason one person needs that much house,” I grumbled as I scanned her rental from a distance. “No wonder she didn’t want security. It would take a whole squad to lock this place down.”
The lid finally popped off of the utility box and I shook my head at the stupid simplicity of it. The alarm, cable, phone, and electricity were all on switches. All I had to do was turn the alarm off.
“Note to self: house alarms are a waste of money,” I mumbled as I cut the power to the alarm system.
I stared at it for a second. I wasn’t convinced that it had worked. Nothing to do but find out.
I crossed half an acre of perfectly maintained grass and sneered at the waste. I could think of a hundred different ways to use the space better. But then how would the wealthy flaunt their status? That much money was no good unless you could rub it in poor people’s faces, right?
Protect Me - A Steamy Bodyguard Romance (You Can't Resist a Bad Boy Book 5) Page 3
