Page 75 of Deeper

I hung back away from the two guards as I put my interest into Zander’s manager who was growing on me. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Just then, the front door opened and Rajaa and Zander stepped outside. Zander’s mood visibly brightened when he set eyes on me.

“You’re currently the number-one song on iTunes,” I let him know. “Next stop, Billboard.”

Zander played it cool and casual. “Am I?”

“Twitter is hype,” I added.

Paul slapped his hand down on Zander’s shoulder and shook him a little. “Don’t call it a comeback.”

Zander loosened up and furnished a smile. “I never left.”

“Should we take a sprinter?” Paul asked as he eyed Olson pulling up in a luxury SUV.

Donned under his own baseball cap, Zander shook his head. “Nah, we don’t want to attract attention.”

Paul sat up front next to Olson; Terry and Dax took the second row; and Rajaa, Zander, and I sat in the third row. The radio was on, and it was a party the first time we heard “Canvas.” All of us were hollering, causing Zander to sink into his seat and blush a little.

It was only the beginning for Z3, orAbstract, but it felt good to see the first song out, doing good, to hear the radio DJs praise the record and compliment Zander’s vocals. With him cancelling his mini tour, some people had counted him out, but this was good for him, to show that he wasn’t going anywhere and he was ready to come back stronger than before.

Olson drove to Burbank, the hub and home for most of LA’s radio stations. From there, it was like a workout, going from radio station to radio station, getting in and out of elevators, walking from office to office. Zander would go into the studio and talk with the different DJs while we sat out in the lobby. Sometimes Paul would sit with him in some of the interviews in the back.

Through it all, Zander didn’t get tired. He was perky right until the end when we hit our final station of the day, Viibe104.2 FM. Paul went into the studio with Zander for his session while Terry, Dax, Rajaa, and I sat out in the empty lobby across from the receptionist.

I admired how one wall was just a large white smartboard, where a series of celebrity autographs in various colors littered the space. Another wall held photographs from pop stars like Shawn Mendes, Justin Bieber, Rihanna, and Tinashe to rappers like Travis Scott, Vince Staples, and Offset. Viibe 104.2 FM poised themselves as “the urban pop crossover station of the West” and I could see why.

“What are you thinking about lunch?” Terry asked.

“Shit, tacos sound good about now,” Dax answered.

Rajaa faced me, his friendly eyes making me not feel alone without Zander around. “What do you want?”

Only one meal was on my mind at the mention of food. “Burger, fries, and a big-ass milkshake.”

He smiled and went back to his phone. “Sounds good.”

I was just about to add the idea of taking a good nap to the roster when I heard it.

Footsteps were coming down the hall, a collection of heels clicking on the shiny linoleum floor. An army of people entered the area and only one had my full attention as I heard Rajaa swear beneath his breath beside me.

Dressed in a plain black tee and faded black jeans was the one and only Teddy Sykes. Teddy Sykes. Grammy-Award-winning Teddy Sykes.

Holy fuck.

He was with two men, and a woman who was clutching her iPad as if her life depended on it. By her sweater and slacks, I guessed she was his manager or assistant, and the two men in their casual T-shirts and jeans were security.

Either way, this was the wrong place and wrong time to run into Teddy.

“Hello, hello,” he greeted the receptionist for all of a second before his eyes zeroed in on Terry, Dax, Rajaa, and me. It was Rajaa that sent a scowl marring his face, Rajaa who he seemed to recognize.

“What’s going on?” he demanded to know, facing the woman.

Her nervous gaze flickered over to the receptionist. “Is someone in there right now?”

The woman behind the front desk nodded. “Zander Khalil’s doing a little interview. He should be almost done.”

The men exchanged looks, wary. “We can wait outside—”

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