10. Luke
TEN
LUKE
What is this woman doing to me?
I shouldn’t have asked her what was wrong. It’s none of my business. She was on the bus; she was safe. I should’ve left it at that.
Then she unloaded all of that stuff about Thompson, and it made me so fucking angry. I knew he was a complete jackass, and this confirmed it.
I was looking into Calla’s eyes like some lovesick fool. I wanted to hold her. I wanted to do more than hug her and the way she was looking at me made me think she wanted that too. But the poor girl just went through a traumatic experience. She doesn’t need me lusting after her… and if I crossed that line, my job would be done. I can’t do that to Cody after all he’s done for me.
Maybe I should call him and tell him I need to be pulled to another client. That I didn’t break any rules, but I thought about it which is bad enough.
I know I’d be letting Cody down, though. The one person who’s always been there for me. The guy who let me sleep on his couch for weeks when I was discharged. The guy who forced me to keep living after my mother died because he knew she wouldn’t want me to ruin my life. The guy who gave me a job, no questions asked, because he knew I could do it.
No. No, I can’t ask to leave this assignment. He wanted me here for a reason, and I won’t fuck this up.
Calla James needs someone to care about her, but I can’t be that man.
I rub my hands down my face. It sounds easy, but when you spend so much time with one person, they start to consume your thoughts.
When I wake up each morning, I wonder if Calla is actually going to eat today.
When I see her phone light up, I hope it’s not anyone telling her what she can and can’t do that day.
I’m starting to care about this woman whether I want to or not. I just have to make sure no one else knows. She is not for me and it’d be best if I remember that.
I’m lying in my small-ass bunk bed on our way to the Las Vegas venue. I’ve been avoiding Calla for hours and thankfully, she’s let me. But we should be arriving any minute, so I’m going to have to face her.
The bus comes to a stop, and I hear annoying little Ashley say, “Yeah, we just stopped in front of the venue. I’ve gotta go.” I swear that woman has either been talking on the phone or typing away since we left L.A. She could at least silence the keyboard clicking on her phone, which has been driving me insane. I’m going to have to invest in some noise-canceling headphones if I’m going to be dealing with her for the next few months.
I unfold myself from my bunk, grab what I’ll need for tonight, and head to the front of the bus. Calla has a bag with her. She looks focused and not as sad as she was earlier.
That’s a good thing, right?
The bus door opens, and I lead the way, making sure there’s no one lurking around to get to Calla. I already reviewed the floor plan of the venue so I know exactly where we need to go. It appears Ashley has as well because she passes by, saying something about making sure everything is set up for Calla.
Once she’s gone, I slow my strides to walk next to Calla.
“You ready for the show?” I ask, hoping she’s not upset with me. I didn’t really do anything wrong, but I attempted to comfort her, which is outside of my job description. What she does with her boyfriend is her business. I shouldn’t have pushed her to tell me.
Especially since now all I want to do is strangle that motherfucker.
“I’ve never been so ready.” I’m not looking at her but I can hear the smile in her voice. “This is why I do it. All the long hours, all the bullshit, it’s all so I can perform for my fans. You’ll see. It’s just… everything.”
It’s good that she has something that makes it all worth it.
I walk Calla to her dressing room before meeting with the security team for the venue. By the time I’m done with that, I have to escort Calla to sound check. Then it’s more waiting while she gets ready for the show. I keep myself posted outside of her door. Protocol states that this is the best place to be as long as there are no windows or other exits in the room the client is in. And it gives me the space I need from her right now.
When it’s finally time for the show, she walks out of the dressing room in a black sparkly leotard thing. Her legs are completely bare besides the knee-high boots she’s wearing.
She looks gorgeous. So gorgeous I have to remind myself to close my mouth when she looks at me. She sees it, though, and returns my look with a smirk.
“See something you like, Mr. Pierson?”
I clear my throat as we start walking. “I, uh, wasn’t expecting that outfit is all.”
“Right, well, go ahead and prepare yourself for the rest. I have four other outfit changes tonight.”
That feels like a lot of unnecessary work. Do people really care how many outfit changes she has? But I keep that thought to myself.
Before she turns to go under the stage for her entrance, I say, “Good luck.”
She looks at me and winks. I’m not sure what that means exactly, but I like it.
The venue has security set up at the doors and the front of the stage, so my spot is on the side of the stage, just close enough to watch her but far enough away that no one can see me.
The crowd is explosive when Calla gets on stage. Every single one of her shows on this tour sold out the day they went on sale, so I guess I should’ve expected this reaction. But I didn’t realize the enormity of that until just now, seeing all of these screaming people.
Calla seems unfazed. If anything, she’s thriving off of it.
The opening number starts with some dramatic music, the same music I’ve heard during rehearsal over and over again, but it seems so much bigger now in front of tens of thousands of screaming people.
I’m in awe as I watch Calla sing and dance. She puts on an amazing show, and it’s no wonder she’s such an icon. She’s a true performer with so much talent.
“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Ashley says. I have no idea where she came from. For once, she was quiet enough for me to not hear her, reminding me that I should be doing my damn job and not drooling over Calla.
“She is,” I admit, as I start looking around, making sure I don’t see anything suspicious. I’ve got a receiver in my ear that would alert me if anyone else noticed anything, but I’m not one to rely on others.
“This is my second tour working with Calla. She is one of the hardest working people I know, and she does it all for those people.” She points to the fans singing along with Calla’s song.
The show goes on flawlessly. She changes her outfit several times, and she was right, each one gets better. She plays song after song and the crowd sings along to every word. It’s amazing. I even record some of it on my phone, which is not something I ever expected to do. I will also never admit to doing it. I made sure that no one was around before I pulled my phone out.
After the show, I expect Calla to be exhausted, but she seems wired. She bounces off stage with a huge smile on her face. This is her element. This is why she does this. Why she puts up with everything else in her life.
“Such a good show, Calla!” Ashley tells her. “Let’s get a quick picture for socials.”
Calla stops and poses for the camera. She’s sweaty and covered in glitter, but she doesn’t seem to care.
“Alright, Mr. Pierson, what’d you think? Was your first show everything you expected?” she asks as we walk back to her dressing room.
“That was… better than I expected.”
She gasps. “Careful. That almost sounded like a compliment.”
“Well, I was expecting complete shit, so take that however you want it,” I tell her, even though it’s not true. I could tell from the first time I saw her sing that she had talent. Just because she doesn’t play the genre of music I tend to listen to doesn’t mean I was expecting her to put on a bad show or anything.
She throws her head back and laughs. “It was the outfit changes, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, Calla. Your show was only good because of the outfit changes.”
She shoves my arm playfully, so I shove hers back. She smiles at me, and for the first time since I met her, she seems genuinely happy.
There’s a meet and greet for some fans directly after the show, contest winners of some kind. Calla has half an hour to take pictures with them and sign whatever they want. None of the fans were allowed to bring any bags into the backstage room we’re in, but that doesn’t stop me from watching these kids very closely. Thankfully, they all just seem overly excited to meet Calla. One little girl starts crying when it’s her turn to take a picture, and Calla hugs her and spends a little extra time with her.
Calla asks for a shower before we leave for the bus. Ashley and I both agree that she has time while the crew is packing up the stage, so we leave her to it in her dressing room.
I walk to the catering table to get a bottle of water, and on my way back to the dressing room, I see the door crack open. Immediately, I think the worst. I left for two seconds, and someone has come to kidnap her… or worse.
But no. Calla’s head sticks out through the crack in the door and looks left and then right, as if making sure the coast is clear.
What is this little shit doing?
She walks out of her dressing room in jeans and some sort of shiny top, her hair pulled back in a tight braid. She looks like she’s going out rather than back to her bus.
Instead of stopping her, I decide to follow her to see what her plan was. Since I’ve got eyes on her, I won’t let her get too far.
She walks slowly down the halls to not draw attention to herself. She stops a few times when she hears people coming and hides behind doors or pillars. She’s sneaky, I’ll give her that.
She slides out a back door, and I jog to catch up with her. As suspected, she’s not heading in the direction of the buses. I let her go a few more feet before I reach out and grab her hand. She shrieks in surprise.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I ask.
She groans as she turns toward me. “How long have you been following me?”
“The entire time. Where were you going?”
“I was just going to try to go out for a little bit,” she says, like that’s a totally normal thing for her to do.
I release her hand. “Calla, what the fuck? You can’t just go out on your own. What if someone took you or tried to hurt you?”
“I know self-defense.”
“There’s not much self-defense against a gun, Calla.”
Her shoulders slump. “I just wanted to go out for a little while. I was going to be back in time for the bus to leave. I just wanted to see Vegas.”
“Sorry, princess. Not happening.”
She stomps her foot, and I try really hard not to laugh. Ok, I don’t try that hard. “Come on, Luke. Just for a little bit.”
“Nope. I’m not losing my job just because you want to go out.”
“You wouldn’t lose your job,” she tells me. Yeah, I don’t believe her at all.
“Oh yeah? What do you think would happen when everyone realized you were missing?”
“I was going to be back before anyone noticed.” She means everyone except me. She knew I would know that she was missing and didn’t give a damn.
“And if you didn’t make it back?” I ask.
She crosses her arms over her chest, showing me attitude. “Well, then I guess you’d lose your job, wouldn’t you?”
I chuckle. This fucking woman.
I don’t wait to hear what she has to say next. I bend down slightly and wrap my arm around her waist, lifting her up and over my shoulder. I turn and head back in the direction she should’ve been going: to the buses.
“Luke! You better put me down right now!”
“No can do, princess.”
She bangs her fist on my back. “Luke!”
“Yell all you want. I’m not putting you down until your ass is back on the bus.”
“Come on! You’re crazy!”
“I’m the crazy one? You’re the one trying to run off and put yourself in danger.”
She lets out a frustrated groan before her body sags.
I stomp up the stairs of the bus and walk her back to her bed, tossing her down onto it.
“You’re going to stay right here until we’re ready to go. I’m going to be right out there, so don’t even bother trying to make a run for it.”
“You can’t just lock me in here. I’m not a child!” she yells at me.
“Then don’t act like one,” I say calmly. She doesn’t like that answer.
She falls back on her bed. “I hate you!”
“Good.” Maybe her hating me will stop whatever attraction I seem to have for her.
I leave her in there and head to the couch in the front of the bus. I scroll through my phone and answer emails while we wait for Ashley and the crew to be finished and move to the next city.
About an hour into our drive, Calla finally comes out of her room and sits on the couch with me.
“I don’t hate you,” she says. This must be her attempt at an apology.
“I know.” She elbows me in the ribs.
I laugh and hand her the TV remote, letting her find something for us to watch.
She accepts my peace offering. This has to be the strangest assignment I’ve ever been on.