Eight Weeks Later
A
big, sleek, and disturbingly conspicuous black limousine, flanked by two county sheriff patrol units, and followed recklessly by a Geo metro and two SUVs, hurtled onto the tarmac of the private Orange County airstrip where Jack was waiting.
He glanced at his watch—they were only eight hours late.
This was not what he’d call an auspicious beginning, but Jack was determined to start this job with a good attitude. He reminded himself that he stood to profit a sizable chunk of change for two months’ work. Over the last couple of weeks, in meetings with the tour people, the label people, Lucas Bonner, and the men Jack had assembled to do the security, he’d had to push down the nagging thought more than once that perhaps this wasn’t a good idea. The work wasn’t bad, but navigating the tour sponsors was tiresome and Bonner seemed like a royal pain in the ass.
“Twenty-four/seven coverage,” Bonner had barked at him like an army general.
“I got that,” Jack said.
Now that the planning stages were over and they were about to implement, Jack thought if he kept a low profile and just did his job, it couldn’t be that big of a deal.
The limousine came to an abrupt halt a few feet away from him, as did the two patrol units, from which four sheriff’s deputies spilled out. They collectively hitched up their gun belts and sauntered to the back of the limousine, positioning themselves between the limo passengers and the eager cretins in the vehicles following them.
The front passenger door flung open with such force that Jack was surprised it didn’t snap off the hinges. Mitzi emerged and hopped toward him in skin-tight white jeans, a tighter leopard sweater, and shoes with heels that were completely impractical for doing anything other than getting laid.
He had to admire a woman who could strut her stuff on stilts, and Mitzi Davis could strut with the best of them.
“Jack!” she shouted.
“Hey, Mitz,” he said, and popped a piece of gum into his mouth, enjoying the bounce of her boobs as she came to a halt before him.
“
So
sorry we’re late, baby,” she said breathlessly.
“Eight hours late, Mitz. I hope that’s not a sign of things to come.”
She took off her shades and peered up at him. “
Eight
hours! Oh, doll, you got my message, right? Audrey did
The Tonight Show
last night. We couldn’t possibly get to the airport any sooner, especially in this traffic. Did you see it?”
“The traffic?”
“
No
, silly!” she cried, swatting his arm. “
The Tonight Show
!”
“Ah, no,” Jack said. “So you got everyone and everything together? We need to get going,” he said as paparazzi jumped out of the Geo metro and the two SUVs and started firing off shots around the sheriff’s deputies of the LaRue limousine.
“Oh look,” Mitzi purred, “it’s
impossible
to keep the media off Audrey’s tail. She is probably the most popular pop star in the
world
right now. Do you have any idea who I had to sleep with to get
The Tonight Show
for her? But it was worth it—Jay
loved
her.”
“Fabulous. Let’s go,” Jack said, and patted the railing of the steps leading up to the ten-seater Audrey’s label had made available to fly her to the inaugural show in Omaha. They would take luxury tour buses from there.
Jack could scarcely contain his excitement.
“Let’s get her moving,” he said, nodding toward the limo.
“Keep your shorts on, sweetie,” Mitzi said with a wink. “I’ll get them.”
Them
. Jack assumed Lover Boy would ride along, but he had a feeling that
them
went well beyond the two primaries.
He was right—as Mitzi turned around and strode back to the limousine, the driver of the limo had opened up the doors of the vehicle and people were beginning to spill out while the paparazzi jostled each other for shots. Two women rolled out, then Bonner and couple of guys with cigarettes in hand, and then another guy who looked like a stoner they had picked up at the beach. And finally, Miss Audrey LaRue, the woman for whom Mitzi would sell her firstborn if it would convince the media that she was the World’s Biggest Pop Star.
She might be that, but Jack was also reminded that she was just about the hottest woman walking on the planet today. He was both pleased and a little chagrinned that he had not embellished a thing about her body in his memory. Slender frame. Long legs. Silky hair and a mouth that could make a guy hard just looking at it.
She was wearing enormous shades, a beat-up cowboy hat, denims that looked ancient (for which she’d probably paid a fortune), a white cowboy shirt tied in a knot just below some very nice breasts that he fondly remembered squeezed up against his chest. And of course, she had on the obligatory cowboy boots.
She was also carrying a purse the size of Kansas. What
was
it with women and purses?
Audrey didn’t seem to notice the frenetic activity around her as the paparazzi snapped photos and people grabbed bags and a couple of guitar cases. She was talking on her hands-free cell phone, the little mic curved around to her mouth. She seemed completely oblivious to the world as she began to move toward the plane, her free hand slicing through the air as she carried on a very animated conversation. She paused only once, glanced over her shoulder and shouted something at someone as cameras clicked, then turned and continued on her way, still talking.
She strode across the tarmac with legs that looked to be about ten feet long, her free arm swinging, her mouth moving with every step until she came to a halt directly in front of Jack and glanced up.
He smiled. “
Hey
.”
“Hello.” She kept her eyes hidden behind the sunglasses. “Look, I have to go,” she said.
“Go where?” he asked, momentarily confused.
She pointed a perfectly manicured finger to the little mic. “I’ll call you later to see what’s going on, okay?”
She wasn’t talking to him, but Jack was pretty sure she was looking at him, although it was hard to tell behind those ridiculous shades.
“Okay, yeah. Later,” she said. Her phone call apparently over, she reached into the enormous leather state-of-Kansas she had slung over her shoulder. “So. You’re going to keep the freaks away from me, right?” she asked.
Sort of an odd way to start the conversation. “Yes.”
“Great,” she said, and produced, of all things, a tiny little black-and-white fur ball. “Will you see to it that he is walked before we take off? Also, I’d like some
chilled
bottled water.”
Jack was stunned.
Audrey thrust the leather bag and dog at him. Not a dog, really, but a wind-up toy that growled and wore his fur in a stupid red bow above his eyes.
“Hello?” Audrey demanded.
“Excuse me?” Jack asked. “You want me to
what
?”
“Just make sure Bruno gets walked,” she said again, putting the dog down this time.
“What
is
Bruno?”
“A Havanese. Here is the leash.”
“Wait, wait,” Jack said. “You don’t have someone to do this?” he asked, horrified that she would expect him to
walk
something, much less something trying so hard to be a dog.
“I’ve got a
lot
of people to do it,” she said meaningfully, and held out the leash again.
Jack glared at her. But he took the leash. And the little rat at his feet began to paw his leg.
“Oh, and don’t forget the water,” she said. “Thanks.” And with that, she jogged up the steps and disappeared into the interior of the plane.
Jack didn’t move. He was actually incapable of moving, he was so taken aback. Had she really just done that? Had she really just pushed her living toy off on him?
“
Diva
,” he muttered irritably beneath his breath, and looked around for a place to let the thing do his business.
Since Jack was not authorized to fly the label’s plane, as luck would have it, he had to ride in the seat facing Audrey’s for the flight to Omaha.
If she noticed him, she gave no indication. When she wasn’t making calls and talking into her earpiece, she kept her nose in some papers. She only looked up a couple of times, wearing a very thin and very forced smile. Jack couldn’t tell if she was in a snit because she didn’t get her water, or if it was because he’d shoved Bruno back at her and said, “
Here
.”
He couldn’t understand her problem. Was she just rude, or did she have a problem with his providing security? If she did, she damn sure should have said something before now.
He couldn’t help noticing that the other passengers didn’t seem to notice her at all. Lucas Bonner had popped open a couple of bottles of Cristal champagne the moment they had cleared the runway, proclaiming this flight a celebration of his finishing an album—and the group had proceeded to party like it was 1999.
Not Audrey. She kept her head down.
For the first three hours of the flight, Jack gritted his teeth. He tried not to look at her legs, or the tantalizing view of her breasts that the deep vee of her shirt afforded him. He tried not to look at her mouth and think of that kiss, or hair that begged for a man’s fingers. He
tried
not to . . . but Jack had nothing to do but watch her and wonder why the hell she wouldn’t speak to him or at least
acknowledge
him. She
knew
him. And the longer the flight went on, the more obsessed Jack became with making her at least
look
at him.
He finally nudged her with his foot.
Audrey lifted her gaze without lifting her head. “What?”
“I thought I’d try and say hello again,” he said. “I don’t think you heard me clearly the first time.”
“
Hi
,” she said impatiently, and dropped her gaze to the papers again, as if she were being bothered by some punk kid.
All right, that was it. She had weaseled her way onto his beach and his lap, and he’d be damned if he was going to be treated like a bothersome gnat. So he shifted forward, arms on knees, his hands dangling between his legs. “You
do
remember, don’t you? Private beach? Moonlight? Dancing?”
“Me on your iPod?” she muttered without lifting her head. “Of course I remember you. I said hello, didn’t I?”
“Right before you ordered me to fetch you some water and walk that thing you call a dog. And
then
you got downright frosty.”
That prompted her to look up. “
Frosty?
I’m not
frosty
, I’m
busy
. Most people understand that. And it’s not a
thing
, it’s a
dog
.”
“That’s not a dog. That’s a child’s toy. And you are definitely frosty.”
Her mouth dropped open. Then she quickly closed it and frowned. “
Jesus
,” she muttered. “Okay, Jack. Try and understand—I am about to go on my first nationwide tour, so I’m just a little preoccupied with my job. Maybe you should be focused on
your
job, which is providing security, you think? We’re not going to be beach buddies. We won’t even see each other that much. Let’s just establish that as a ground rule, and that way, neither of us will expect anything. All right?”
“Wow,” he said, leaning back. “That may be the warmest welcome I have ever received.”
She shrugged. “I’m just saying. I’ve got a lot going on.”
“So much that you can’t even say hello?” he asked incredulously. “Most humans, regardless of how busy they are, say hello if only to acknowledge they’ve met before. And I thought, seeing as how I am going to keep some whack job from getting to you, that you could at least extend me that small courtesy.”
Audrey sighed and placed her hands primly on top of the papers in her lap. “
Hello!
Okay? Are you satisfied?”
“No.”
“What more do you want from me?”
“Manners,” he said. “I want some manners.”
She blinked with surprise. And then she glanced over her shoulder, to where Bonner was sitting on the arm of a chair, telling some outrageously long tale to the delight of the other passengers, and Jack suddenly clicked to it.
“Is
that
it?” he asked incredulously, glancing at Bonner. “Are you afraid I’ll mention our little dance to your boyfriend?”
Audrey’s eyes flew open wide, then just as suddenly fell into a narrow glare. “
No
. He wouldn’t believe you anyway. And besides, there is no point in telling him, because it was just a stupid little thing. The sooner you get over it, the better off you will be.”
Jack chuckled low and leaned back. “You think that kiss was
that
good?” he asked. “What makes you think there was anything to get over?”
Audrey colored and she frowned. “Whatever,” she said, sounding suddenly uncertain. “Can we please agree that we’ll both just do our jobs?”
“I’m definitely going to do my job,” he said, smiling a little at the blush in her cheeks. “But lighten up, okay? I’m not here to give you a hard time. I just want some basic courtesy.”
Audrey’s blush deepened. She made a sound of disgruntlement before slouching down in her seat and lifting the papers so that she couldn’t see him.
Jack didn’t bother her again. But he sat smugly confident in one thing—she hadn’t forgotten that damn kiss any more than he had.
When they at last arrived in Omaha, the passengers rolled off the plane—and were put in a waiting limo. Jack, Audrey, and Lover Boy took a separate limo and a different route to the hotel.
When they arrived, Audrey’s assistant, the cute redhead Jack remembered from Costa Rica, had already handled everything. The hotel folks were waiting for Audrey and Boy Toy in the back, where they would be let in via the kitchen and escorted to their room to avoid the small throng of fans who’d gathered out front.