Moment(s)

  “My, my, a rhymester must be so comforting to poor Julian McLane who misses his mum and sister every day.” Luke grins and leans in to the mic. “Shall you cuddle him before bed? I’m relieved to have someone else to do my chore every night.”

  Emilie cracks up and loses her interview persona. “I bet you do cuddle him.”

  “Good God, no. That’s Kasen’s job.”

  “Not,” Kasen pipes in.

  At the White House, the lads file out of the car and I sit there a moment, staring at Emilie. All of that talking we did last night, it seems so far away now. Or was it only me who felt…I don’t know…together like a team? Of course, there were several times during the night that she would stop mid-story and change to something else. She has secrets, but I didn’t think they were big enough to erect a wall much less build up a room that she’s running to now.

  I reach out and squeeze her knee. “Emilie?”

  Give her an out, Julian. Give her an option.

  No.

  She turns from the window. “I was just thinking,” she says, her soft blue eyes locking on mine. “Hannah said her first word the other day. Dada.”

  Aye, her little sister.

  “No one will be pushing her to say my name next.” She looks away, and I can breathe again. “It will be Mamma, car, dog…whatever. I read about your sister. So much older that it was like you had two mothers, and they spoiled you big time. And Parker said you miss them.”

  “Massively.” I drop my head to my hands and try to run my fingers through my tangled mop of curls. “If you absolutely want to go back, I guess it’s possible.”

  Kasen’s girlfriend lives a perfectly normal life in Maryland, but no one knows who she’s going out with. Plus, she has four huge brothers. But I have to admit now, there was a part of me this morning that was glad we were caught. Not that I wanted Emilie scared and hunkered in a cupboard. But two weeks was sounding further and further away. I didn’t want to wait until we got to L.A to see her again. “You’d need a guard for a little while. I’d arrange it all since this is all me. But I pure wish you’d give this a chance first, Emilie. Please?”

  Give me a chance.

  “Julian, come on,” Parker calls from outside.

  “You better go,” she says and lifts one side of her mouth just a fraction. “You’re not supposed to keep the President waiting.”

  My heart spindles and dismounts in my chest while I watch her almost smile at me again. I can’t fight the grin as I’m ushered to a side entrance of the famous White House. It was a wee smile, but I have hope.

  Once inside, I have to turn my mobile off—it’s been blowing up. I have a feeling it has to do with this Emilie bissy even though none of the calls are from the boss.

  I’ve just shaken the President’s hand, who has quite a weak grip, and am stepping away from the carefully arranged receiving line, when Doug meets my eyes and gestures with his head to step out. He has his mobile in hand.

  “Laura,” he whispers.

  We make our way into a darkened passageway, and I put Doug’s mobile to my ear. “Hello.”

  “You have some kinda balls, don’t you? Julian, as soon as you leave you’re going to drop this girl back at her house, drive like mad to get to the airport, and forget all about her.”

  “No, she’s coming with us on tour, isn’t she now? For three years I’ve played the game, not grumbled once when I didn’t get a day off for a month straight. I’ve never brought anyone along with us, and the rest have, haven’t they?”

  “They were family and all adults.”

  “Kasen’s sister was fifteen, you know.”

  “But she was his sister and he looked after her. She was his responsibility, not ours.” She sighs into the speaker. “Who’s going to look after this girl? What if something happens to her? We’re totally liable.”

  Lauren’s using present tense. She’s going to give in. I fight the urge to jump. “I’ll take care of her.”

  “Ha! You couldn’t keep a beta fish alive.”

  “That was Luke,” I say.

  “Take her back home.”

  “No,” I shout then fight to lower my voice. “If she goes back…If she’s harmed in any way, we’re liable.” Aye, I have her now.

  She’s literally panting in the mobile. “None of the assistants will spend any time sorting her out. You book plane tickets and hotel rooms—pay for them out of your pocket. Or hers—whichever. Nothing will be spent on her. Tell your tour manager I okayed this with these conditions—No, I’ll call Stephen. Do you understand the conditions?”

  “Aye. I’ll manage her airline tickets and hotel rooms, but she’ll need to use Mrs. Tish for coursework.”

  “This girl has dropped everything to go on tour with you. Why doesn’t she just quit school?”

  “It’s important to her.” I think…I still haven’t figured out that odd conversation in the Golds’ living room.

  “Give me the parents’ email so someone can send Release of Liability forms.”

  Ah, shite. They’ll never sign them. Mr. Gold already believes this is all hinky. The only reason Kason’s parents signed the ROL is because they trusted Kason to be what a big brother should be. And everything went smoothly. “They already signed it,” I lie my arse off. “Kason still had the copy the lawyers emailed him.”

  “Forward the signed copy to me,” she says and there’s talking and shuffling in the background. Without another word, she rings off.

  I try to hand the mobile back to Doug, but he’s listening intently to his earpiece. He jerks his head up. “Tell the boys we’re out in five minutes,” he says then takes off down the passageway.

  “What’s happened?” Tingles rove over my scalp; I run after him. He swings a door open and the afternoon sun nearly blinds me. I look for the car where it was last, but instead spot at least a hundred people on the other side of the iron gate.

  My words haunt me: I’ll take care of her.

  “Doug, tell me what to do.”

  He shakes his head as he continues his run across the thick green garden. “Son of a bitch.”

  The crowd erupts into a hum of questions and a slew of clicks as the cameras hose me down. When the paps move to the black fence in front of me, I’m able to see the car again. Relieved to have diverted their attention, I give a few vague answers (lies) to their questions about our new lyricist.

  “We’ll be co-writing with her.” I keep my eyes on the car while security opens the door and talks with Emilie. “I’d rather not make her name public.”

  Emilie is scowling at first, but she eventually takes it in stride and smiles up at Gregs. I can’t help but feel the sting of jealousy; he can pull a nice smile from her right now, but not me. I vow that I’ll make her forget about that boyfriend, and I’ll be the one she smiles at again.

  “Is it Emilie Gold?”

  I work hard not to shoot daggers at the reporter. “What are the chances of you not publishing her name?”

  Of course no one listens.

  A shuffle comes from the stoop behind me, and I turn to see the lads walking out. Kasen scowls and looks around. The brothers slap on their press smiles and wave, though they lean against each other and talk quietly. The security team envelopes them, and the grouping makes their way to me.

  The gate opens slowly. “Get back,” the team begins their usual chant. “Get back!”

  We quickly climb into the car, and Emilie looks up at me when I ease down beside her. “Julian, let me see your phone.”

  I turn it on and hold it out.

  “Unlock it,” she says.

  Aye, I must pure trust her since I don’t hesitate. She scrolls through my most recent calls.

  “That’s what I thought,” Emilie says. She nibbles at her lip and meets my eyes. “My phone was hacked or something. Must have been during gym. That was when everything went…the radio broadcast. We need to change our numbers.”

  I smile at the “we” and say, “All right t
hen.”

  Changing my number is nothing new. Just a few months ago, Kasen’s little sister videoed a prank call to me and accidently flashed the screen of her mobile to the camera. A few thousand people had my number after that.

  Luke and Parker are having a giggle. “Julian’s used to changing his number,” Luke says.

  For sure, I’m getting pure tired of the player cracks. “If you’re set on taking the mickey out of me then find something else.”

  The leather seats creak as the two sit back with frowns on their faces. Och!

  We rarely argue, and it’s even rarer for me to be the root of it.

  “Come on, guys,” Kasen says. “There’s nothing wrong with toning it down. He always does it for you when….” He rotates his eyes around, stopping when his gaze lands on Emilie.

  The boys still scowl.

  “Who’s Mickey?” Emilie asks.

  We all crack up—apart from Emilie.

  I scoop up her hand. “It just means they’re making a joke at my expense.”

  She jumps when the lock clicks at her elbow, and the door is suddenly flung open. The car comes to an abrupt halt, and Tomo the guard swings in, sitting beside the brothers. “This is a disaster.”

  Parker pulls a massive grin. “Personally, I blame Mickey.”

  The rest of the ride is punctuated by more stops, along with jokes from the lads. The brothers get so animated, one ends up with a smarting ear. And right when we’re pulling up at the airport, Luke has to break up a play fight between Kason and Parker. Either my energy level is on the low side, or these lads have been suppressing theirs long enough today.

  Kasen insists on sitting beside Emilie on the plane; I try not to be fussed. He’s probably talking me up anyway.

  Trying not to listen to their conversation, I put in ear buds and crank up my mobile. I’m pure knackered, and I’m out in minutes.

  My legs fall from where they were propped on the seat ahead of me, and I jerk to my feet before I’m fully awake. I yank the cords to my ear buds when I clock Parker doing twists and turns and finally falling to the floor in the middle of the aisle. There’s a low thump when he skelps his hand down on the blue and gray carpet.

  Luke and Kasen are in stitches, and Emilie isn’t much better. Her eyes gleam and she holds her stomach. Parker pulls his hand away, uncovering a massive brown spider. A fake spider.

  Doug walks down the aisle and stops when he gets to where Parker is sprawled, red-faced, on the floor. The normally serious minder laughs and goes back to his seat.

  “Dougie, they’re being mean to me.” Parker turns back to us. “Who did that?”

  Kasen and Luke point to Emilie; she points to Kasen. “He told me to.”

  Parker stomps over to the seat Kasen had just left. I hop over and drop to the cushion beside her, almost knocking all my breath out (not a great dismount), and stare up at him.

  Parker rolls his eyes. “Emilie, you’re lucky Jules has a headlock that could break my neck. But I’ll get you, love.”

  He drops to the seat beside Luke and ruffles his brother’s close-cut hair.

  Kasen leans across the aisle and strokes Parker’s head like a dog. “Poor wittle baby is so scared of spiders.”

  Emilie turns her eyes to me. “I guess the screaming is good exercise for his vocal cords.”

  I roll my eyes. “Aye, that’s exactly how come we always prank each other.”

  “Or it could be that you’re just a bunch of boys away from your family, and now you’ve become each other’s family,” she says with a smile. “I bet it’s hard when you go your separate ways and go home.”

  Aye. But the crowds were just too much to go back to our hometowns. Too much for our families. Parker, Kason, and I bought a big house in London anyway, so family comes to see us now. Luke got his own house down the street.

  But Emilie’s tuned in pretty quickly. Us lads used to be pretty ridiculous—texting and ringing each other regularly as soon as we were split.

  I shrug. “They’re like my brothers, aren’t they?”

  Emilie looks away. “I wonder.”

  “What?”

  She sighs and turns back to me. “I wonder if I’m going to get just as attached to a bunch of flying gymnasts in a rock band.”

  It’s very likely. “I hope so.”

  “So…we’re going to Missouri.” Her eyelids are almost translucent when she closes them. “What happened to Canada?”

  “That’s after Missouri.” Maybe she’s looking forward to that. We won’t have much of a break in Canada, but we can fit in a little sightseeing. “And after that is Thanksgiving.”

  “I do get to see my family for Thanksgiving, right?”

  “Yeah,” I say, though I’m not totally sure of that answer. That’s only two weeks away. What if the hype over Emilie hasn’t calmed down yet? Management has scheduled a decent-sized break, though it’s not enough time to fly back to Scotland. If she’d just ask me to go with her….

  She shrugs. “It was my fault.”

  “What?” I ask.

  “The pictures.” She looks up at me, my face reflected in her dark blue eyes. “A new girl at Howie’s took our picture last night. She was spraying down the parking lot when she saw us.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m sorry I’ve been so difficult,” she says and dips her head. “You’re probably in a lot of trouble about all this too.”

  “No danger,” I say and watch as a bit of her hair inches its way over her forehead and her eye. My fingers wiggle in my lap, fancying a chance to tuck the wavy brown silk behind her ear.

  She raises her head up and meets my eyes. “I’m not usually—I’m pretty good at rolling with the punches most of the time. The timing has just been crazy.”

  It must have been recent—the breakup. “Your parents are just doing what they think is good, aren’t they?”

  “You know they’re expecting me to come out of this writing songs for the band. Well, my mother is anyway.” She sighs and cuts her eyes sideways at me. “Daddy is just worried about a mob of fans hurting me accidentally or on purpose. He’s seen people get trampled at the arena. But Mamma’s waiting to see her baby’s name on a hit song.”

  “What?”

  “Uh-huh.” She smiles.

  “But your pa—Kasen told them it was only something he had to say. I thought they just didn’t like your boyfriend and wanted you to get away.” Management only let me write for the album after a year of begging, didn’t they?

  “She’s always been a little deluded.” Emilie looks out the window. “But they liked my boyfriend.”

  “You broke up with him, did you?”

  “No.” She starts jiggling her leg.

  “Then how—”

  “He’s dead.” She swallows and bobs her head. “Technically, he’s still missing, but….”

  Chapter 7

  “It sucks. I know,” I say to Emilie’s surprised face. “But it’s just not safe for you to go back to Virginia by yourself. So, a hotel only makes sense with security and everything.” We’ve only been gone for three days, but that hasn’t kept her from making plans to go home for Thanksgiving.

  With a groan, she flops onto her stomach on the bed. The mattress doesn’t give much. As far as hotel beds go, this one is a tad on the firm side.

  The word from security isn’t good. People have sneaked more pictures of us together, our lyricist story went down the tubes, and the team says Emilie is at a higher alert level than even us lads right now. I can’t believe Jagged Black fans are having such a hard time getting used to the idea of Emilie. We aren’t even together yet, but that hasn’t kept her from getting numerous threats.

  “How many guards?” She looks up at me, her expression inquisitive instead of fussed. That’s a good sign.

  “One…or more,” I say, still afraid of raising her ire. It was the security team’s call, not mine, but I’m glad of it. That girl has got me antsy. I’m even avoiding stepping on a crack f
or fear of antagonizing fate. On top of worrying about vicious fans, I’m not exactly excited about her going back to the same town with the serial killer. No one is stopping him from changing his victim of choice to girls. Aye, no one is stopping him. End of.

  I eye the top of her glossy head and lean against the little kitchenette table. “I’m sorry.”

  “Not it’s—I just didn’t know about the security deal. I was thinking about staying at a hotel anyway. My mom manages one, so I can get a room for free,” she says and sits up on the bed. “My parents gave Hannah my room.”

  “Truly?” My little-boy room back in Aberdeen is exactly how I left it. I can’t imagine it any other way. I’d probably be pretty knocked off if they changed it, even though the band has a purely good house in London.

  “Hey.” She tilts her head and pulls a wee smile. “Stop looking like you’re ready to cry for me, Julian. It’s only a two-bedroom house. They’re outfitting the basement.”

  “Oh.” Well, at least Emilie’s back talking properly to them now. That’s a massive relief for me, isn’t it? For the first two days her dad was calling me to see how she was doing, but I’ve held back on saying anything about her silent treatment.

  “Actually…” Emilie stands and walks closer. “I thought you might want to come with me.” She grins up at me. “I mean everyone is off work, and Scotland doesn’t exactly mark Thanksgiving as a holiday.”

  Ah, she knows I’m not leaving the States. Two days on a plane only for a three-day visit is not a proper holiday.

  Now going to Virginia with Emilie—that’s a proper visit. The New York gig is next anyway. It’ll be handy to already be on the East Coast. Kasen will be off to see his family and girlfriend in Maryland. Luke and Parker are flying to our flat in L.A. and going through songs. We need at least three more for the next album. A couple of bonus tracks would be excellent. I might do some cover art for it if I could stop trying to draw Emilie.

  And there’s always the lovely idea that this girl wants me to go with her. The elusive Emilie is asking me to Thanksgiving dinner!

  I grab her up, swing her around, and chant, “Emilie is afraid of missing me. Emilie is afraid of missing me.”