Chapter One
Present Day
Los Angeles, California
Wren Matthews stood with her hands on her hips, staring at Vin in disapproval. Apparently, someone who didn’t know about their breakup had let him slip through security.
Wren stomped her foot, glancing at the clock on the wall. This was supposed to be her meditation break, when she took the time to relax before a big performance onstage. “When are you finally going to get it, Vin? We’re done. It’s been nearly a month, but you won’t stop calling me.”
“You don’t really mean it Wren. Think about how long we’ve been together. You can’t let one little slip up on my end ruin what we’ve had.”
Her jaw dropped open momentarily before she finally answered, “So you consider cheating on me with someone I thought was one of my closest friends a little slip up?” She shook her head with disgust, picking up her sports watch from her dressing table to turn off the alarm. She sighed. So much for relaxation since the girls from makeup and wardrobe would be here soon.
A moment later, her cell phone rang. Scooping it up, she switched it on when she saw it was the head of her security team. “Marc? Have someone from security sent to my dressing room immediately. Somehow, Vin Desmond was allowed backstage. I want it made clear to everyone who works here that we’re no longer an item. In fact, he’s been harassing me, and I want nothing more to do with him.”
“Oh no. I’m so sorry, Wren,” Marc replied. “I’m not sure how he managed to get through, because I already let everyone know. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“Another thing, Marc. Will you please doublecheck to make sure all my security codes have been updated, and those extra cameras have been installed at my place at the beach?”
Giving Vin a side glance, she noticed him frowning fiercely. She’d suddenly had a gut feeling last week that he’d been continuing to mooch off of her and had been staying there since their breakup. She hadn’t thought twice about it until then.
“Also, I’d appreciate it if someone from security can assist me tomorrow while I remove everything from there that might belong to Mr. Desmond.”
“I can assist you personally, Wren,” Marc reassured her.
“Thanks, Marc. We might need some boxes. Shall we say noon? I’ll probably be wiped out tomorrow morning since tonight is our final tour performance.”
“You’ve got it, Wren. See you then. I’ll round up some boxes and meet you there,” Marc answered. “Someone should be at your dressing room door momentarily.”
“Thanks, Marc,” she said, switching off her phone and turning back to Vin. “Be sure to leave an address with Marc so we can have your stuff shipped to you.”
Vin was currently looking at her with what appeared to be indignance. “I’d prefer to be there while you’re removing my things.”
“Well, that’s too damn bad. I never told you that it was okay to move in. Just because we’ve been a couple doesn’t mean that everything I have is yours. You might try doing something you haven’t done for over a year – look for a job.”
There was a knock at the door.
“Come on in.” Wren motioned the security guard inside after opening the door. “Please see Mr. Desmond to the exit.”
“Can’t I even stay for the performance?” Vin asked in a whiny voice.
She raised a brow. “You bought a ticket?”
For the life of her, she couldn’t understand why Vin looked stunned when she’d asked.
Three years. What in the hell had she seen in this idiot?
“Just get him out of here, Grant,” she said to the security guard.
For some reason, Grant grinned. “I’d be happy to, Ms. Matthews. Good luck tonight with your final performance. We’re all going to miss working for you. It’s been a blast.”
“Thanks, Grant. You guys have been great to work with too. I really appreciate your patience with me.”
He winked. “You’re not like some of the others we’ve worked for. You’re nice .”
She snorted. “Well, don’t spread the word.”
Grant chuckled, yanking a reluctant Vin through the doorway.
At that moment her stylist Samantha arrived, along with Robin, who was Wren’s makeup artist.
With a wide sweep of her arm, Wren motioned them inside. “Come on in, ladies.”
Once Wren was settled in her seat in front of the dressing table mirror, Robin started applying a light spray of foundation over Wren’s face while Samantha got busy numbering items for her wardrobe changes throughout the night.
“Robin, you’re one of the best makeup artists I’ve ever used. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Wren admitted. “Even with the vanity lighting, my face still looks so natural. Yet somehow, my features stand out when I view the tapes of my performances.”
Robin looked pleased. It was kind of hard to figure her out, because sometimes, she appeared sullen. But there had always been a look of yearning in her eyes. Maybe she’d come to California to do something totally different than what she was doing now but hadn’t had success. She’d always looked strangely familiar to Wren. She was usually pretty closed mouthed about herself. It could be she was related to someone famous, which was somewhat common for even the people who worked for performers behind the scenes.
“My choices for you have a lot to do with your wardrobe,” Robin admitted. “I try to coordinate colors but go bold with your eyes, lips and highlights, while giving you a little lighter skin tone.”
“Did you have to go to school to learn?” Wren asked, definitely curious as Robin continued with the next step, lining the outline of her mouth before she would carefully fill in. Robin had been with her off and on for the past four years, while Samantha had worked with Wren even longer.
“Here in LA. But then I was lucky enough to work as an assistant to someone who was pretty big in the field.”
“Well, what you do for me is amazing. And Samantha, I greatly appreciate everything you do too. It’s been a great run,” Wren admitted.
“It has, hasn’t it?” Samantha agreed, smiling.
Hopefully, the hefty bonuses that they’d receive after Wren’s performance would mean they’d return to work during the next tour in November.
* * *
Despite the emotional rollercoaster she’d been cruising along on earlier in the dressing room, Wren basked in applause from the crowd another three and a half hours later. She’d lost track of how many minutes she’d been standing there, after performing two additional songs.
There were vases of flowers placed throughout the dressing room once she returned, so she started reading through the cards, smiling.
But then she frowned, spotting one of the little black envelopes she’d been receiving sporadically throughout the years.
Yanking it from where it was attached to the arrangement of nearly black roses, she’d just placed the envelope on her dressing table when her cell phone began to ring.
Noticing it was Marc, she switched it on. Transferring to speaker, Wren rested the phone back down as she began to change into street clothes. She’d return to the theatre tomorrow to pack up her personal stuff before her wardrobe people arrived for her clothing.
“What’s happening, Marc?” she asked, quickly tugging on jeans beneath her gown.
“There’s been a break in at your beach house, Wren.”
She paused, closing her eyes before heaving a sigh. “You don’t mean…?”
“Yeah, it had to be Vin, alright. You set a pretty effective trap, having all the security installed as soon as the guys saw him leave this morning.” Marc cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to say, not without company.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Marc. Although I’ll probably never be able to see that place for what it’s always meant to be—my retreat,” she admitted.
“How did he get access to all your codes in the first place? He’s never been there, has he?”
“Nope. Not with my permission. I do need to discover how much of my personal information he’s accessed though. I’ll have to talk to my investment manager, although I think that’s all secure. I don’t even withdraw money from my checking or use credit cards without sending coded authorizations. That’s one thing Vin wouldn’t know.”
“Well, I can look into the security end if you want to get someone in on the personal side of an investigation.”
“Yes. That’s exactly what I’ll do,” she answered firmly.
“What do you want us to do with Vin?”
“That depends. How far did he go?”
“Not only did he break in, he began trashing the inside of the place. I suppose he had about twenty minutes inside before they responded. He had no idea he’d set off an alarm. It’s a shame we couldn’t have warned the cops.”
“But then he wouldn’t have been able to break in, and I couldn’t have had him arrested,” she said firmly.
“Really?”
“Yep,” she answered, feeling determined. “I’ve had enough of being taken advantage of.”
Marc barked out a laugh. “You’ve always been too generous for your own good. Do you still want to meet tomorrow? I can take care of the situation with the cops.”
She heaved a sigh. “I suppose I’ll have to go through the place for the insurance company anyway to see what kind of damage he’s done. I’d better get to it before Monday, since I’ll probably be pretty busy during the next month.”
“That’s right. You’re recording a new album. We’ll miss you.”
“Well, I’m not going anywhere yet. I’ll see you tomorrow, Marc.”
“I’ll still bring boxes,” he said.
She snorted.