Page 2 of Daddy Enforcer
This isn’t good. In fact, it’s pretty much the worst thing anyone could hear…
“So… no party tonight,” I say, doing my best to put on a wry smile and shrug my shoulders. “But… how will I know when it’s safe?”
I can see a knowing look on Trent’s face. Now he knows that I’m at least part-way on board with the situation, I’ve got a feeling that he’s about to let me in on the whole deal.
“I know some people. Serious people,” Trent says. “Kind of like your tour bodyguards, but next level. No offence guys. I’ve arranged for you to be assigned to one of them. He’ll be yourone-on-one guard until this is cleared up, which is something that his agency is also handling for us. But it’s going to mean that you’ll be tucked away in a safe place, no public sightings, everything on the down low.”
“What, so no more tour,” I sigh.
“Only a postponement, don’t worry,” Trent answers, ready for my disappointment. “I’ve got a statement prepped already. We’ll say you have vocal cord damage, that you need surgery. Don’t worry, the time you spend away will only hype up your return. You’ll be back bigger than ever.”
I nod. This sounds weird, totally out of the blue, and kind of ridiculous. Why would anyone want to kill me? Sure, I get that not everyone likes my kind of pop music, but…
“Fine,” I say, deciding that I’ve put my trust in Trent for long enough to allow him to guide me through this now.
“Good,” Trent smiles, taking his iPhone out of his jacket pocket and handing it to me. “Just sign this e-doc. Nothing important, just for the legal team. You know, to cover the insurance for the postponed tour dates.”
“Another day, another signature,” I giggle, putting a brave face on things.
I’ve signed so many electronic documents for Trent these last few years that I barely bother to read them any longer. Trent’s great at what he does, I’m great at what I do, we just work together as a team so well.
“Good job, kid,” Trent says, swiftly putting his phone back in his tailored jacket pocket. “Now, I don’t mean to rush you, but…”
“Got it,” I say.
I stand up, get ready to hit the shower and get changed ahead of whatever the next step is with this whole super-special bodyguard situation is.
“No, no time,” Trent chuckles. “I’ve got your ride waiting. You’ll be met halfway by your guard, he’ll take you from there. His name’s, Max by the way. And try not to give him a hard time either. I know what you can be like when you get bored…”
I shake my head and put on a look of mock disgust.
But Trent’s got a point. So I hope this so-called guard knows what he’s letting himself in for…
I step out of the SUV and see a small truck, a little beat up and nondescript, in the distance.
“That’s your ride, Billie,” my bodyguard says. “I’m under strict instructions to not pass this point. Don’t worry, I’ll wait until I see you get inside the dude’s car.”
“Well, that’s reassuring,” I sass in reply.
“You’ll eat him alive by bedtime,” the bodyguard laughs and points me toward the truck.
It feels like I was in the SUV for days, but in reality it’s probably closer to eight hours. Honestly, I’ve got no idea where I am. All I know is that there is snow on the ground beneath me, my jacket is nowhere near warm enough, and for once I’m not actually hungover the morning after a concert.
I can make out an imposing figure leaning next to the truck, acting all cool and laid back. Most bodyguards stand tall andstiff, their arms folded and their attitude on full display for the world to see. This one’s different though, I can tell that already.
As I slowly but surely move closer to the truck, I think about how a little break—maybe a week or two—might actually be the right thing for me right now.
I’ve been working non-stop for years. I mean, seriously, I don’t even remember the last time I had more than two days off in a row. And an actual vacation?Jeez. I don’t even think I’ve ever actually had a vacation. I might have travelled the world with my songs, but I’ve seen so little of it beyond the stadiums I sing at and the clubs and parties.
No, this might actually be what I need.
I think back to my old dancer, Zane… he was always talking about how being a Little meant that he could let go of all the hard work and long hours and just lose himself in hours of play time, fun, and freedom from the big bad world. It always sounded so cool. And the truth was the more time I spent with Zane, the closer I was to getting up the courage to ask him if I could give the whole Little thing a shot alongside him.
I wonder what happened to Zane?
Just as we were getting close, he just kinda vanished off the face of the earth, got some big job as a choreographer for Disney apparently. It kinda hurt that he left without saying goodbye, but that’s just showbiz I guess.
Anyway, I don’t have time to be thinking back to the old days now.
