3. Calla
THREE
CALLA
“Rise and shine, beautiful!” Ashley’s cheery voice pulls me from my sleep, which wasn’t nearly long enough.
I groan and open one eye to look at the clock beside my bed.
Six a.m.
Again.
One of these days I’m going to get to sleep in. Maybe. Probably not.
Ashley opens my curtains. I’m not sure why because the sun isn’t even up yet. She walks to the side of my bed.
“Come on, Calla. Derek will be here in thirty minutes. You gotta get up.”
I know. I know. It’s the same thing every day. Get up. Work out. Go. Go. Go.
I roll out of bed and drag myself to the bathroom, where I brush my teeth, wash my face, and pull my hair back into a ponytail.
Ashley has my workout clothes set out on the bed for me already, and I quickly change before I go downstairs.
To my surprise, Luke is standing by my front door. He’s in navy blue slacks and a white polo. Without his suit jacket, I can clearly see the gun holster sitting on his hip. While I knew Talan carried one, he never let me see it. It appears Luke isn’t of the same thought.
“What are you doing just standing there? I don’t think anyone is going to be charging through my front door this early,” I ask once I’ve reached the bottom of the stairs.
He looks over at me, his wavy brown hair a little more disheveled than it was yesterday. No one can deny how attractive this man is, but his sour attitude really ruins it.
“Isn’t your personal trainer coming over this morning?” he asks.
My brows furrow, confused about why he’s asking. “Derek? Yeah.”
“Have I met Derek?” he asks.
“No. I don’t guess so.”
“Then I need to meet him and make sure he’s not a danger to you.”
I choke out a laugh. “The only danger Derek poses is making me work out so hard I can’t breathe.”
Luke narrows his eyes at me.
“Alright, fine. You do you.”
I leave him by the door and continue to the kitchen, where I chug eight ounces of water and eat a banana to prepare for my workout. The front door opens, and I hear Derek come in. I can only assume he’s being interrogated by Luke, which is what takes him so long to get to the kitchen.
When he finally walks in, he sees me and smiles. “New bodyguard?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Nice guy.”
I nearly spit out my banana. Maybe Luke acted differently toward Derek. “Really?”
“You don’t like him?” Derek asks, sounding confused.
“He’s… fine. Let’s get this over with,” I say, turning to head toward my home gym.
Derek chuckles at my lack of enthusiasm. “You know, I feel like I should be offended that you might consider me the worst part of your day.”
“Derek, trust me, this is far from the worst part of my day.”
He winces a little but turns our music on through the speaker. Then, he leads me through warm-up stretches.
My workout schedule consists of lifting weights six days a week and intense cardio. I get one rest day a week, but I still have to either walk or cycle that day. It’s a lot, but I need to make sure I’m in shape for my tour. The stamina I have to have to dance while singing for almost two hours every other night is insane.
Today, we’re working on shoulders, followed by an endurance run on the treadmill. After all that, we do a cool-down stretch and core work.
I’m rewarded with a protein smoothie and avocado toast with eggs that my chef, Mason, makes for me. He usually comes every other day to prep meals for me.
What’s different about today is that Luke is sitting at one of the bar stools in the kitchen also eating avocado toast with eggs that Mason made.
“Did Chef Mason pass your inspection, Luke? Did you decide he’s not trying to poison me?” I ask from across the kitchen, where I sit on my own stool.
“Ms. James, I would never,” gasps an appalled Mason.
“Oh, I know, Mason. Don’t worry.” I point my thumb towards Luke. “I won’t let him scare you off. You’re too good to me.” Of course, I know he’s paid to be good to me and prep the most delicious food I can have as part of my healthy diet. But just because he’s paid to be here doesn’t mean he genuinely likes being around me. I hope everyone who works with me feels like they truly are a part of my team. Calla James would not be Calla James without every single one of them.
“Cute,” Luke deadpans.
I shrug. “That’s what people tell me.”
He doesn’t laugh, but I don’t really expect him to either.
“You know, Luke. It’s strange to me that you’re eating my food while on duty. Feels like that would be against the rules or something.”
Luke looks over at me, emotionless. “I figured you wouldn’t want me hanging around the gym watching your sad attempt at lifting weights.” Um, sad? Excuse the hell out of him. “And Talan said we’re allowed to eat, but if you’d rather I didn’t?—”
He starts to stand from his seat, but I roll my eyes. “Sit down. I don’t care what you do. I think Talan ate more of my food than I did, if we’re being honest.”
He slowly lowers himself back to his seat. He’s glaring at me now, so I raise one eyebrow in challenge, waiting for him to say something. He disappoints me by looking down at his plate. I’m sure he realized that being a smart ass to his client probably isn’t the best idea.
Ashley flits into the kitchen with her trusty iPad in hand. I swear she never goes anywhere without it.
“Oh, good. You’re finished. We need to get you upstairs and dressed. We have a costume fitting this morning before rehearsals.”
I’ve barely even taken a bite of my toast. “I just need like five minutes to finish eating.”
She grimaces, and I already know what’s going to come out of her mouth. “We really don’t have time. We need to get moving. Can you bring your breakfast with you?”
“You want me to eat toast in the shower, Ash?”
I hear a chuckle from behind her. It’s impossible that Mr. Serious Pants would be laughing at something I said, but there’s no one else in here besides Mason, so it had to be him.
“Well, no,” she says. Before she can say anything else, I take a giant bite of toast and nod my head in Luke’s direction.
“Ashley,” I say around a mouthful of food, and my parents would be appalled at my manners right now. “Have you met my new bodyguard, Luke?”
When she turns and looks at Luke, her cheeks turn pink. Oh god, she thinks he’s attractive. I bet that’s wonderful for his ego.
“Yes, we’ve met. How are you today, Luke?” she asks in a much nicer tone than what she used with me.
“Great,” he says flatly.
“Good. Good.” She turns back to me, looking slightly disappointed that he didn’t ask how she was. “Ok, you ready, Calla?”
I’ve managed to shove half of one piece of toast in my mouth during their interaction. Unfortunately, it’s not nearly enough.
I stand and grab my protein shake, following Ashley out of the kitchen to my room.
“Calla,” Luke’s voice stops me before I reach the hall. “You need to eat.”
I huff a laugh. No one ever cares about my actual well-being. I’ve known Ashley for three years now, and she couldn’t care less if I don’t get to eat or get a headache or have to pee in between appointments. All that matters is that I show up on time to where I’m scheduled.
“Didn’t you hear? There’s no time for food, Luke.”
And then it’s off to get through the rest of my jam-packed day.
When we’re back at the rehearsal space after costume fittings and several phone meetings, I notice Luke doesn’t sit in the room to watch like Talan would. Which is fine. I don’t expect anyone to sit around and watch me sing the same songs over and over unless they’re actually part of the show. It just feels strange, I guess. I’m so used to Talan being there with a big smile on his face. He was always such a good cheerleader for me, too. It was comforting to see his smile. Luke won’t be smiling, though, so it’s better that he’s not here.
We run through one section of the show at least three times to make sure we’ve got it down.
I’m dead on my feet when it’s finally time to leave. Luke stands from his chair outside of the room when I pass by. He walks slightly behind me as I lead us out of the building and into the waiting car. Ashley says her goodbyes and gives me a night to do whatever I want without popping in to bug me about something.
In the car on the drive home, the silence bugs me, so I ask, “You didn’t want to listen to the show?”
Luke keeps his eyes straight ahead. “No offense, but your music isn’t exactly my favorite.”
“None taken.” Although I am slightly surprised. While I fully understand that not everyone is a fan of pop music or me in general, no one has ever said it to my face. “Why were you assigned as my bodyguard, then?”
“Protective agent,” he says.
“What?”
“We’re called executive protection agents. Not bodyguards.”
“Oh, so sorry,” I say, not hiding my sarcasm. “Why were you assigned as my protection agent if you don’t like me?”
“I don’t have to like you or your music to keep you from getting kidnapped or hurt by a crazy fan,” he says.
I turn and face the front of the car again. “Right. Well, at least you have tonight off, so you are relieved of my presence.”
He scoffs.
“Something you’d like to say?” I ask.
“No.”
“Really? Seems like you wanted to make a comment there?”
“Nope. Just sad I’ll miss hearing Sledge talk about himself for an hour and a half.”
I nearly choke from hearing his words. I’ve never heard anyone call Thompson out for talking about himself so much, but again, most of the people I’m surrounded with enjoy listening to Thompson talk about himself.
“How did you even hear what he was talking about? You weren’t anywhere close to us.” Talan and Luke did a very good job of blending in at the restaurant last night.
“I’m everywhere, princess.”
Princess? Great. Not exactly a nickname I want, seeing as he’s implying I think I’m better than everyone else. I think I’d rather him call me Ms. James.
“No, I’m not going out, so I’ll save you the misery. Just me, myself, and I tonight.”
While I would love to spend some quality time with Thompson, especially since I’ll be leaving for tour soon, he’s got networking to do. He’s still chasing his dreams, so who am I to stop him from doing it? I understand how the industry works. If you’re not out there being seen, they’ll forget about you, and you’ll be replaced by the newest heartthrob. Thompson refuses to let that happen.
“Good. I’ll head home then. Don’t forget I have your cameras hooked up to my phone, so I can see everyone who goes in and out of your house.” I don’t miss how he emphasizes the word “out.” He might as well have just said, “You better not leave your fucking house.”
“Lovely, I feel so much better knowing a strange man is watching me through cameras.”
He huffs. “That’s what you pay me for.”
“Mhm. Got it.”
I can’t even get away from cameras in my own home.
When we get back to my house, Luke leaves without a goodbye, and I reheat one of the meals Mason left me. Too bad it ends up half-eaten on my nightstand because I fall asleep before finishing it.