I should be back there, making sure she was ready. I should be involved in every step of this process.What, do you not trust Violet?I asked myself. No—that wasn’t the problem. Of course I trusted my VP. She’d had her hands all over my father’s company long before I’d ever bothered to get involved.
It was just...
This thing with Amina was different.
I wasn’t used to being told no. Especially not when it came to something I wanted.
Fuck,I thought, pulling up short.That’s it, then. I’m as bad as Violet said; I wanted to drag Amina into a corner and tear off whatever fancy outfit she’s been stuffed in.Finishing my champagne, I shook myself. Violet was right, I needed to keep away from that girl. The last thing she needed was me distracting her with my wicked attraction.
And what about after she performs?I wondered.Will I be able to do what I promised; keep my hands off of her, when she’s not on the verge of going on stage?It was a good question. One I had no answer for.
“Hey, Bach,” a voice called.
I spun around just in time to catch a small piece of metal. Baffled, I studied the circular bottle opener, then eyed the man who’d thrown it at me—Santino. He was sneering, two girls—different from earlier—leaning on him. “What the hell is this?” I asked.
“Like it?” he chuckled dryly. “It’s part of my swag pack for my new tour.”
“Tour?” I hesitated, studying the bottle opener closer. It read FRESH in big letters.
“That’s right.” Santino ran a hand through his wavy blonde hair. “Eckland booked me a music tour. Ten cities, starting in Vegas in four weeks. It's called the All-American Fresh Tour. Danny’s an ace with this stuff, man.”
Clutching the bottle opener, I scowled. “How appropriate for you to be selling your name on pathetic shit made in some abusive sweatshop.”
His face fell. “Excuse me?”
I threw the bottle opener back at him. “Made in China. What an authentic way to begin yourAll-Americantour, Fresh.” I turned away and began to walk. His voice brought me back.
“Laugh all you want, man. At least Eckland isn’t digging up any random pretty face that’s naïve enough to hop onto a sinking ship.”
I froze on the spot. “What did you say?”
“I saw your girl backstage. The hell are you playing at, huh? She was so pale she was see-through, ready to puke from terror.” Santino grinned smugly. “She’s cute, though. Maybe when your company collapses I’ll give her a spot on my tour. I’ll show her how good I can treat a roadie, bet she sings even better with a dick in her—”
He never finished his crude comment. He couldn’t when I’d grabbed him by the throat, throwing him into one of the chocolate fountains. The girls screamed, jumping out of the way as Santino floundered in the thick syrup. “Say it again,” I growled, looming over him as he wiped at his sticky face. “Just try and fucking say that again.”
“What the fuck, man?” he coughed, looking up at me in disbelief. The crowd chattered loudly, people rushing away, others rushing close to take photos with their phones. Three guys in black security garb hurried to help Santino to his feet.
One of them eyed me, unsure what to do. “What happened here?” he asked.
Santino shoved the men away and pointed at me. “This fucking psycho knocked me into the fountain!”
“Mr. Devine,” a guard said, “Is that true?”
Lowering my eyebrows, I glared down my nose at Santino. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Are you serious?” Santino asked, his face red where the brown-coating wasn’t hiding it. “That dick-head threw me in!”
I squared my shoulders in his direction quickly, like I was going to take another swing. He jumped backwards, slippery shoes going out from under him so that he landed back in the fountain. Ilovedhow freaked out he looked as I bent low, my heel on the edge of the fountain. “Are you sure I pushed you?” I asked coolly. “Or did you mean to say you tripped and fell?”
The guards scrambled to get Santino back up. He was simmering with humiliated rage, but he bit his tongue. I knew what he was thinking; better to be a klutz than to admit to being scared of me. “I guess I slipped,” he hissed through tight teeth.
Adjusting my jacket, I walked away from the scene without looking back. I would have liked to knock out some of Santino’s perfect teeth after what he said about touching Amina, but I had something more pressing to get to.He said she looked terrified.
When I got near the stage, I slowed down.Will seeing me make that worse?I didn’t know what to do. Fuck, I hated not having an easy answer.
“Mr. Devine?” It was the woman from before with the champagne. “Did you want another glass? The performances will be starting soon, I thought I’d check if you needed a pick me up.”
I waved my hand, starting to tell her to go away. Then I pulled up short. “I don’t need a pick me up,” I said, “But I know someone who does.”