by Karina Bliss
Ticket demand had exceeded even his wildest hopes and Zander was tempted. His voice was strong. He no longer panicked preshow. When he made his final bow he allowed himself one—just one—dizzying moment of relief, otherwise he let doubt go.
Extra shows would enable him to reach break-even earlier and augment Rage’s popularity.
They could also be the tipping point for his voice to fail.
A by-product of reviewing his career with Elizabeth was understanding where he’d gone wrong and he was trying to be more democratic. Refusing opportunities without offering a good reason wouldn’t go down well with his fellow bandmates or his manager, but he couldn’t tell them the truth either.
“Zander, did you hear me?”
He refocused on Dimity. “Yeah.” Bottom line: He had to protect his voice. “I’ll tell the band no, tomorrow.” He got paid the big bucks because he made the tough decisions.
She checked her watch. “Actually, tomorrow’s today. I should go to bed, I have to be up again in five hours.”
“Why don’t you sleep in?”
She laughed, thinking he was joking. “Simone Dumont and her photographer are meeting the band for breakfast at eight. I need to make sure everything is set up.”
The highbrow journalist from Musique Magazine had joined them for a month to profile the new band members and she and Jared had taken to each other like butter to a baguette. Jared saw a fellow musicologist, Kayla saw a rival and Zander saw trouble, which was why he’d bought the family a pass to a theme park tomorrow at Doc’s suggestion.
Which brought him right back to Dimity. Zander gave up on the indirect approach, since it clearly wasn’t working. “If you have a problem, need anything, I’m always here to talk to.”
His PA’s eyes narrowed, she said slowly. “I’m going to kill Elizabeth.”
So much for protecting his informant. “She’s worried about you. Hell, I’m worried about you.”
“I told her, it’s PMS. No big deal.”
“Of course not,” he soothed. Elizabeth had come across Dimity sobbing in a stadium utility room. “But it probably doesn’t help that you haven’t had time off since we started the tour.”
Dimity threw down her organizer and it bounced off the sofa cushions onto the carpet. “I’ll torture her before I kill her. You wouldn’t have the first clue about my schedule, Zee, without Elizabeth telling you.”
“That’s true.” Picking up the device from the carpet, he checked it for damage. “I’ve always assumed you pace yourself, because of the damn fine job you do organizing my life. But if your workload is too crazy, hire additional help.”
“All our workloads are crazy on tour. And I don’t have time to train anybody.”
Zander sat beside her. “I only have a couple of print interviews scheduled tomorrow and they’re both at the hotel. I can handle those on my own. Do the breakfast with the band and take the rest of the day off.”
“There’s nothing I haven’t seen in Paris.”
“Ten bucks says you’ve never been where Doc is taking you.” It was hard keeping a straight face, but Zander managed it.
“I’m not hanging out with that snitch.” She held her hand out for her organizer. “I’ll relax in my room.”
Zander shook his head. “We both know you’ll work, given the opportunity. Which is why I’m confiscating this for twenty-four hours and you’re getting a minder. Meet Elizabeth in the lobby at eleven.” He pointed to the door. “And don’t come back until you’ve had fun.”
“Fun,” Dimity repeated blankly, “right.” She paused at the door, her expression sly. “I have to say, Zee, I’m a little surprised you’re following Elizabeth’s orders like this.”
“Nice try.” He gave her a gentle push and closed the door. Though his PA had a point.
When Elizabeth insisted he intervene, Zander had wondered aloud why he’d ever wanted to kiss such a bossy woman. She’d laughed. His biographer had become downright complacent since he’d backed off.
Opening a drawer, he dropped Dimity’s organizer into it and went to the bathroom to prepare for bed, still thinking about Elizabeth.
Their kiss had been…surprising.
Given the playfulness of their relationship, Zander hadn’t expected such intensity. A one-night stand wouldn’t be enough, they were heading for a burn-up-the-sheets affair. Neither of them had time for romance on tour, but he had every intention of following through when this leg was over. You’d think a smart woman like Doc would have figured that out.
But that laugh today… Brushing his teeth, he frowned at himself in the bathroom mirror. It piqued his rock-star ego that Elizabeth could be so damn happy he’d dialed down his pursuit when millions of women across the globe aspired to have sex with him.
Was that why he wanted her so badly? He was fully capable of being that shallow, which was why Zander was approaching this—he grimaced over a mouthful of toothpaste—sensibly.
He liked his biographer—a lot—and he valued her work. And after the pain he’d caused Stormy, he was nervous. Clean living had woken him up to his lack of relationship skills.
He sighed and then, because no one else was here to do it, he blew the handsome sonofabitch in the mirror a kiss before switching off the bathroom light.
Chapter Sixteen
Kayla was laughing at the entranced expression on Rocco’s face as the giant teacups began spinning in wide and gentle circles, when her laughter evaporated. “You have got to be kidding me!”
Stormy glanced up from helping Madison turn the central wheel that spun the cup faster. “Something wrong?”
“Bad enough Jared is ninety minutes late on our one family day this week, but he’s bought Simone with him.” Following Kayla’s incredulous gaze, Stormy glimpsed Jared loping through the crowd, baseball cap pulled low over shades, his bodyguard a few steps behind and the French journalist beside him.
On Kayla’s lap, Rocco squealed in protest and Kayla loosened her hold. “Sorry, bubba.”
Puffing, Madison hauled on the wheel. “Faster, Stormy, faster. Let’s crash!”
“You’re a thrill monster.” Grinning, Stormy picked up the pace.
The cup spun, Jared disappeared from sight and when it swung around again, he and his crew were waiting by the turnstiles. “Her photographer’s there as well,” Kayla said, outraged.
“Remember what we talked about,” Stormy reminded her quietly and the brunette blew out a frustrated breath.
“Don’t overreact,” Kayla muttered.
“Good girl.” Crazy that she, of all people, was giving marital advice, but Kayla and Jared were on a collision course and someone had to drive the safety car. Elizabeth would defuse the situation, but Dimity had dragged her into one of the park’s bars. Stormy was getting mighty tired of Dimity.
As the cups slowed to a stop, Madison spotted Jared and waved joyously. “Look at me, Daddy!”
Grinning, Jared waved back. Simone motioned the photographer forward and Kayla help up her hand like a traffic cop. “Stop!” Thrusting the baby at Stormy, she jumped over the pink rim and marched over to the railings to glare at the photographer. “Do not take unauthorized pictures of my children.”
“Well, I tried,” Stormy said to Rocco, who cooed at her.
“Can I jump out too?” Madison asked.
“No, honey, wait for the man to unbuckle us.”
Kayla glared at Jared. “Why is the press here?”
“Hey, calm down, it’s all good.” He tried to put his arm around her and his wife shook him off.
“And you’re an hour and a half late.”
“I’m so sorry, it’s my fault.” Simone stepped forward smiling. “And this was my idea, to photograph Jared with your children—and you—who are clearly so important to him.”
The faintest contempt tainted her smile; the bitch just couldn’t help herself.
Stormy craned her neck for the attendant. “Can you hurry it up, please?” There were babes in th
e wood needing protection and she didn’t mean Kayla and Jared’s kids.
She was inured to covert spite from other women, a mean form of jealousy, but Kayla wasn’t. The attendant ambled over and unlatched the safety gate. Carrying Rocco, Stormy shepherded Madison out of the cup and gestured to the bodyguard. “Bill, could you take the kids for ice cream?”
He was only too happy to oblige. As soon as she’d offloaded the kids, Stormy targeted the photographer. “Hello,” she said, walking between Simone and a bristling Kayla with her hand outstretched. “We haven’t met.” She gave him a siren’s smile. “I’m Stormy, the Walkers’ nanny.”
“I’m Giles.” Dazed, he took her hand and kissed it. “Enchanté.”
Since Simone had never acknowledged her existence, Stormy continued to address Giles. “Kayla was expecting this to be private family time.”
Kayla took a deep breath. “I’m sorry if I was rude, but Jared should have cleared this with me first.”
“Cleared it with you?” Jared repeated slowly.
“Checked with me… I mean, discussed it.”
“It was a last-minute idea and I thought you’d get a real kick out of having family shots included in the profile. Simone is doing us a favor, arranging for a photographer to come along.”
Stormy wrested her hand from Giles’s grasp.
“Wait.” Kayla’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you just said this was last-minute?”
“For Jared,” Simone interjected. “I had the idea last night when Giles and I met up.”
“Well, I hate to be the spoilsport,” Kayla said firmly, “but I feel very strongly that this is something Jared and I should discuss first. So we can set guidelines around what exposure our kids get to paparazzi.” Simone winced at the reference to the gutter press.
“For Pete’s sake, Kayla, this isn’t some chance shot through a telephoto lens.” Frowning, Jared removed his shades. “Giles is contracted to Rolling Stone magazine.”
“And we’re your family,” Kayla said shakily, “not accessories to your rock-star lifestyle.”
Jared planted his legs apart and dug his thumbs in his jean pockets. “Now you’re just being silly,” he said coldly.
“What Jared is trying to say,” said Simone, obviously seeing her “exclusive” vaporized by a marital brawl, “is that you don’t yet fully understand—”
“Thank you, Simone,” Kayla snapped, “we don’t require an interpreter.” She looked at Jared, frustration in her brown eyes. “Babe, right now you can wear a baseball cap and sunglasses and be anonymous, but what if you get really famous? We need to protect our children’s privacy as long as we can. So we can keep bringing them to places like this.”
“I find it interesting that you are in France,” Simone commented, “and yet you choose to visit what you have in your own backyard in Los Angeles.”
“Are you suggesting I let them loose in the Louvre?” Tentatively, Kayla smiled at her husband. “Can you imagine our Maddie with the Mona Lisa?”
Simone touched his arm to attract his attention. “I believe the Louvre has an excellent children’s educational program.”
“I often think those programs are more about the parents than the kids,” Stormy commented.
Kayla folded her arms. “Oh, little Louie,” she mimicked, “he’s so culturally aware. Such a wonderful reflection on moi!”
Simone smiled. “You are right,” she said gently. “I am being rude, interfering in your day. Accept my apologies. Giles and I will leave you to it.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Kayla said tightly.
“I’m so sorry, guys, if we’ve wasted your time,” Jared apologized. When they’d gone, he glared at Kayla.
“I’ll go see how the kids are doing,” Stormy said hastily. She walked toward the ice cream stand.
“What was so hard about phoning before you sprang press on me,” Kayla said behind her. “You put me in an impossible situation.”
“I put you in an impossible situation? You just humiliated me in front of people I respect.”
“To hell with them, your family’s supposed to be your priority today.”
“So all this childish hostility is payback because I’m late? Zander called a band meeting to tell us no extra concerts… Oh yeah, I knew you’d be thrilled…”
“We bought you a cone,” Madison called excitedly.
“Great!”
As Stormy took Rocco from the bodyguard, he murmured, “Safe to go back yet?”
“Give them a few more minutes,” she replied with more optimism than conviction.
* * *
“Uh-oh.” Standing under the striped awning of a bar, Elizabeth watched Kayla march toward them, her pretty face a thundercloud, and a scowling Jared in her wake.
“Will the fun never end?” Dimity said sarcastically beside her.
Since touring was teaching her to shrug off exhaustion and setbacks, Elizabeth took a deep breath and ignored Dimity’s snark.
Kayla arrived, visibly trembling with rage. “I want Jared to spend some quality time with his kids,” she fumed. “So I would really, really appreciate it if you’d let Stormy join you. She’s already worked two hours overtime because of his lateness.”
Dimity brightened. “How about I leave with you?”
“No,” Elizabeth retorted. She touched Kayla’s arm. “Are you okay?”
“I will be.” Her eyes were bright with anger. “But I’m damned if I’m relieving Jared of the kids until tonight. Can I borrow your room?”
“Of course.” Elizabeth handed over her key card.
“Don’t tell him where I am.”
“We won’t.”
The moment Kayla left, Dimity said, “I’m not hanging out with Sucker-lips. Besides, you said if I wasn’t having fun after an hour we could go.”
“An hour on the rides,” Elizabeth said, exasperated. “We’ve spent the last two in the bar.”
“I’m a grown woman,” Dimity whined. “I don’t do theme parks.”
“We’re finding your inner child if it kills me.” Elizabeth propelled her forward.
Jared was only too happy to give Stormy a break. “God forbid, I ruin another woman’s afternoon,” he said bitterly, ignoring Stormy’s denial. “Go have fun,” he ordered. “Bill and I will be fine with the kids on our own.”
Passing Rocco to the surprised bodyguard, he took his daughter’s hand. They headed for the carousel, Madison skipping along happily beside her daddy.
“Quick,” said Dimity, “let’s run the other way in case they change their mind.”
Elizabeth spotted a flash of blue on the ground. “Rocco’s pacifier. Wait here, while I catch them up.”
As soon as she left, Stormy turned on Dimity. “What is your problem?” she demanded. “Elizabeth’s doing everything she can to give you a good day and you’ve been acting like a spoilt brat ever since we left the hotel.”
“Says the expert on infantile behavior.”
“I know more about kids than you do!”
“I wasn’t talking about the kids.”
It took her a moment. “I’m the baby?”
“Helpless, needy, completely reliant on cuteness to have your essential needs met.” Dimity raised her perfectly arched brows. “Am I missing anything?”
“You know, I’ve really tried to let this go,” Stormy said, “because I feel sorry for you.”
“You feel sorry for—?” Dimity snapped her mouth shut as Elizabeth returned.
The biographer looked between them curiously. “So before we move on, anyone pregnant?”
Dimity snorted. “Don’t you need to get laid for that?” She looked at Stormy, her gaze insulting. “Let’s ask the professional.”
Ignoring her, Stormy smiled at Elizabeth. “Not pregnant,” she said, then muttered for Dimity’s ears. “Though some of us can get laid.” Enough of playing nice.
“Okay.” Elizabeth checked her park brochure, then scanned them from head to toe. “No surgi
cal collars or orthopedic devices…check.”
“What?” said Dimity, who was clearly still thinking of a comeback. She groaned aloud as Elizabeth led them toward Happyville.
“This looks like fun,” Stormy enthused for Elizabeth’s benefit, then lowered her voice. “Stop being a bitch, bitch!”
“No back or heart problems?” Elizabeth called over her shoulder.
“No,” they chorused.
“Great, we’re sorted then.” Elizabeth led them on.
“I’m surprised you have no back issues,” Dimity hissed. “Your boob-zookas must weigh a ton, but I guess you’re always lying down.”
Stormy glared at her. “Does not having a heart count as a heart problem?”
Elizabeth stopped suddenly, causing Dimity to bump into her and stumble. “I won’t be a moment,” she said. “Wait here.” She wandered over to a ticket booth.
“Nice trip?” Stormy said, starting to enjoy herself. Hanging out with a four-year-old was giving her an appreciation of toddler humor.
Dimity ignored that. “And what do you mean by saying you feel sorry for me?”
“First tell me why you hate me so much.”
A bellowing laugh drew their attention. Elizabeth was pointing them out to the ticket-seller. He waved and they waved back, feigning smiles.
“I don’t hate you,” Dimity said through her clenched grin. “I despise you. You set equality back a thousand years by perpetuating the myth of the helpless female. The only success you’ve ever achieved has been through riding on some guy’s coattails—sorry, I meant dick.”
“You know nothing about me!” Stormy began, then saw that Elizabeth was waving them over. Still fuming, she pushed through the turnstile and onto a covered platform, joining the line of people filing into a cartoon-colorful coaster. Taking a padded seat in the rear car, Stormy ignored Dimity when she sat beside her.
“Wait,” the PA said, as the safety bar lowered with a hydraulic wheeze. “We’re missing Elizabeth.”
The redhead was leaning over the guard rail, waving a handful of vouchers. “You two are staying on this ride until you make your peace.”
Despite her anger, Stormy was amused. “Is she threatening us with a kids’ coaster?”
