Page 46 of Fame and Obsession

I lift an eyebrow. “Ty needs to mind his own business.”

“Not that it matters, but Ty has nothing to do with this. You must take me for a moron if you thought I wouldn’t find out about the letters. I’ve known for a while now.” She stands, watching me intently. “You’re playing with fire, Julian. I hope to God you know what you’re doing.”

“Zane?” I ask. Somebody sold me out. I want to know whose ass I need to kick.

Our eyes meet, and exasperation coats her expression. “Does it matter? You should’ve been the one to tell me. You’re not an island, kid.”

Says her…

“I’ve got this.” I turn to leave. I’ve had enough misguided advice from the entire band already. I don’t need it from my manager too.

She calls out just as I reached the door. “Stalking can escalate from harassment to violence in the blink of an eye. I hope for your sake you do.”

I purposely avoid her eyes as I walk out. Pressing the call button for the elevator, I pull my phone out of my pocket and hit the speed dial button.

She answers on the first ring. “Hi. How was the ass reaming?”

“Fantastic. I need a favor.”

“Hello, Tanna. It’s nice to talk to you too,” she replies, an edge to her voice.

“Sorry, listen, were you serious about being able to track online stuff?”

“Why would I lie?”

“Right. I need you to track down a list of screen names from Chatter for me.” I spell them for her slowly.

“Okay, any importance?”

I let out a rough breath as the elevator arrives. “My stalker may be on that list.”

Fourteen

Phoebe

My foot sinks into a puddle, and I glance down just as a spray of murky water splashes all down the front of my ivory dress. “Just fucking perfect!”

Tightening my grip around the useless umbrella, I curse again as a flurry of movement around me propels a second spray, completely drenching me this time.

“Damn tourists,” I grumble.

Running full speed up the steps to the Ralston Media building on Monday morning, I flash my access badge through the security scanner. After offering a mumbled hello to Gus, the security guard, I make my way to the elevators.

While waiting, I run my forefinger over my bottom lip, still feeling his mouth on mine three days after the album release party. His scent intoxicated me. Even now, if I take a deep breath, I bet I can almost convince myself he’s standing right next to me.

Before I can stop myself, I inhale deeply. Unfortunately, the only thing filling my lungs is the stench of cheap cologne. I cough, doing everything I can to expel the wretched smell from my nostrils that—thank you, asshole—I can now taste.

Logically, I know I have no reason to be this hostile. My mood has nothing to do with the over-cologned man, but it doesn’t stop me from glaring as I step off the elevator and into the Vinyl lobby.

“Morning, Phoebe!” Patty smiles, her crinkled eyes widening at my disheveled appearance. “Good Lord, child, what happened?”

Somehow, I manage what I hope is a smile. From what I hear, Patty has manned the front desk at Vinyl since the dawn of time. She knows all, and has the ear of all—a secretary wielding the power of a CEO.

Besides, she’s a nice woman, and never rats me out when I sprint through the office, late for work.

I blow a wet piece of hair out of my eyes. “Rain happened.”

She shakes her silver-bun head in sympathy and extends a handful of pink messages. “For you, my dear.”

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