Page 95 of Reverb
“Both.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Ms. Heydel. I do have a job to do.” He made to disengage, but she blocked his path.
“Mr. Altet, does Mish Sullivan have a stalker, and are you play-acting a relationship to flush him out?”
David froze. “Play-acting?” He hated how his voice rose on the last syllable, even more when Heydel’s eyes glinted with thatgot youlook. “We’re not play-acting.”
“So, a real relationship, then? Not trying to draw out a stalker?”
Damn it, damn it. “Could you not write about that?” The words were out before he had the sense not to say them.
Much to his surprise, Heydel hesitated. “Shit, there is one?”
“No comment.” But the cat was out of the bag, David knew. “Just...please don’t run with that? For Mish?”
She blew out a breath and nodded. “I’ll table that topic for now.” There was a pause. “But what about your relationship with Mish?”
“Ireallyhave no comment on that.” He did his best to slip past her without touching her.
“Thing is,” she said to his back, “Mish doesn’t keep any of her lovers long. What happens to you after the tour, Mr. Altet?”
He kept walking, throat tight and body tighter. That conversation had gotten completely out of hand, and he’d fucked up. Not that he’d said anything in particular, but too much could be inferred from his comments.
God, he was a fool. This was why you didn’t mix business and pleasure. And then there was the thorn Heydel had shoved into his side at the end.
Whatwasgoing to happen when this tour was over? Touring was living in another reality, one where everything could happen—and had. But at some point, they would end up back in the real world, where he was a bodyguard and Mish was a huge rock star.
Their lives meshed now, but in the world outside touring, outside of the job? If this relationship with Mish continued, he couldn’t keep his job with Twisted Wishes.
David scrubbed a hand down his face. First things first: find Marcella and let her know what had happened. The rest he’d deal with later. Because this show? This show was Mish’s, and if nothing else, he’d be here and work his hardest for her, no matter what the future held.
Thankfully, Marcella didn’t seem too concerned about Vicky Heydel. “She’s gonna dig and dig, David. The evidence is out there, as is the speculation. There’s nothing Heydel’s reporting that’s new.”
At least there was that.
“Something else eating you?” Marcella clicked her phone off and gave him all her attention.
Shit. He schooled his face. “Nothing in particular.” A lie, but he covered it. “The fans know there’s something up.”
She gave him a long look. “Yeah. Adrian said the chatter about Ray’s gone up a ton. Fans were hit hard by his previous illness, so collectively, they worry about him almost as much as Zavier does.”
Illness. That was a gentle way of putting Ray’s near-death experience. “I don’t blame them. Or Zavier, for that matter.”
Another nod, then silence, until Marcella cleared her throat. “I know deflection when I see it. I’ve been in PR too long. I’m going to let it go—but you know we’re here for you. This whole ‘taking care of each other’ includes you, too.”
“I’m not—” But Marcella had gotten him dead to rights. “Okay. I’ll keep that in mind.”
That earned him a smile. “Doesn’t have to be me. Any of the guys would be there for you.”
He gave her a little salute and headed down the hall. Two Times Strong would be on stage soon, so he should make one more round, and check in with their crew again. As David walked away, he realized that Marcella had meant “guys” as in the other men in their circle, which meant she’d guessed the source of his disquiet. Then again, that was probably obvious.
After he’d checked in with Two Times Strong’s crew, he made his way toward the house seats, and ran into Adrian in the hall.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” Adrian said, in lieu of a greeting.
He stopped. “What’s fine?”
“Whatever it is you’re off to check on now.” Adrian tucked his phone into his pocket.
“Doing final rounds.” David didn’t have much time left.
