Page 8 of All of You

This was the one introduction I’d anticipated, but I’d planned on being the one doing the talking.

“We met at one of Whit’s concerts,” Ben said with a quick glance at me.

I smiled encouragingly, happy he hadn’t mentioned Reese.

My family was a private matter. I had a multitude of reasons for it, but mostly, it was because I didn’t want press in their business and didn’t want anyone thinking about them when they thought about me. We had less of an issue with Reese than with my parents, but still. It comforted me that Ben hadn’t mentioned the mutual friend we shared.

“Is that right? On her tour?” Johnson asked.

He smiled pleasantly enough, but every interaction with him was an audition—one reason why my gown, though halter-necked, looked extremely modest other than my shoulder blades showing.

“No, sir. She did a concert at Fort Campbell Army Base up in Clarksville—we met there. I was honored to give her a tour of the base and show her a bit of my world, and she was kind enough to invite me tonight.”

Ben stood straight and tall next to me, not touching me or making any attempt to put a physical claim on me as we stood there with Johnson. It was almost confusing, except that I’d made it clear we were there as friends.

Johnson smiled broadly. “You’re in the military, then?”

“Yes, sir. Army.”

“Lieutenant Holder! Good to see you and finally put a face to a name. I’m Nikki Gatlin.”

Nikki, my publicist, peeked around my shoulder and smiled at Ben, then turned to Johnson. “Good to see you, Mr. Johnson, Mrs. Johnson.”

Nikki was always good at being formal, and she knew Johnson would value that. She was, after all, paid to brown nose, essentially.

“Ah, Ms. Gatlin. Good to see you, too,” Johnson said, and his wife murmured the same.

John Smith Johnson was a conservative industry magnate; someone you wanted on your side if you ever wanted anything, basically. My brush with rumors a few months ago had reportedly displeased him. Nikki was all over it, always looking for things for me to do to look angelic rather than, say, human.

“Well, I hate to barge in here, but they need Whit up front. Lieutenant Holder, would you mind escorting?”

Nikki’s midnight bob shone under the lights. She wore a simple black sheath that flattered but didn’t draw attention to her very fit body—she practiced yoga religiously and was the reason I’d asked Kendra to add it to my Sunday mornings despite the fact that it drove me into madness to be so still and calm. An expert at being present but invisible, Nikki always worked to put me in the spotlight, and always at the best angle.

Ben held out his arm. “Excuse us, sir. Ma’am. Have a lovely evening.”

I took Ben’s arm and said my goodbyes to the Johnsons, and he steered me in Nikki’s wake at her usual New-York-at-rush-hour walking pace.

“Are you running late?” he asked in a hushed voice, leaning down a bit to say it closer to my ear.

“She’s not late yet, but we will be, plus I didn’t want you chatting too long with Johnson.”

Ben raised his eyebrows at me as if to say how did she hear that? I shook my head with a grin. Nikki hadn’t even bothered to turn around.

Not surprisingly, she’d heard him. She had a cat’s hearing. In fact, she was ultimately quite feline—sleek, intelligent, moody, and prone to occasional outbursts of affection that resulted in overstimulation and hiding.

Nikki stopped just in front of a stage door. “This is where you’ll come when they start singing the group number—it’ll be the kindergarteners. Then, you’ll likely just exit unless they ask you to say a few words, etcetera, etcetera.”

“Yes, I’m ready.”

Nikki awarded me with a curt nod. “For now, please go sit. You’re at a table with a few nice parents and board members from the school. I made sure you weren’t near Danes. Or Johnson, for that matter.”

Her fingers fluttered over the face of her phone as she did five things at once—I assumed, since that was so often how she functioned. But something had been bothering me.

“Shouldn’t I be spending more time with Johnson, not less? Doesn’t he need to get to know me so he’ll want me to work with him?”

Ben stood by me, sturdy, great-smelling, warm, quiet.

“No.” She didn’t pause whatever she was doing, or even look up.

---