Chapter 12
DAWSON
Iain and I shared brunch and spent a whole hour without arguing.
I should’ve been happy, relieved. Had our relationship turned a corner? Was I finally seeing the man behind the rockstar image?
Yes. Or maybe that was the problem.
I was seeing him, and I liked what I saw—a lot.
And it wasn’t all physical. Although, grappling in the gym earlier sure proved that, yeah, I wanted to get as close as possible to the sexiest man I’d ever met. Which wasn’t smart at all. Then again, my rulebook tended to fly out of the window whenever I was with Iain.
But there was still something he wasn’t telling me. And I wasn’t about to go one step forward and two steps back.
Patience. Watch and listen.
Like now.
The band had gathered in Brodie’s suite for a meeting with Harlow. Before their manager arrived, the four guys had their own private conversation while Van and I chatted on the sideline.
And now that Harlow was here, things were not going well. To say the least.
“What’s he doing here?” Harlow asked, motioning at me.
“He has a name. And I asked Dawson to be here. Not that I owe you any explanation since he’s my bodyguard.”
“He doesn’t need to protect you here.”
“I don’t know about that,” Iain mumbled.
“What happened last night, Harlow?” Brodie snapped. “I want an explanation before I contact Greg directly.”
“Go ahead.” Harlow shook his head and adjusted his suit jacket. “Look, I admit that I should have done a better job at preparing you for those questions—”
“Are you kidding me?” Faise bit out.
“But, in all fairness,” Harlow continued, “the questions they asked are all based on public knowledge. There’s nothing threatening or nefarious going on. Faise’s brother is in rehab; it’s not a secret. And Holloway’s mother—”
“Don’t!” Iain yelled and stood up to pace. “Do not go there.”
I looked at Van, and his concern mirrored mine. Both of us moved closer to Iain.
“Everything is fair game when it comes to the media,” Harlow countered. “That’s celebrity life. Or did you all forget?”
“Whose side are you on?” Ronin asked.
“The label’s, of course. You know, the one that pays for your mansions, cars, and every other luxury you have.”
“You’ve got that the wrong way around.” Brodie leaned forward. “We bring in the money. The label was damn lucky to sign us.”
I didn’t miss his use of the past tense.
“So, the more attention you guys get, the more money you’ll make.
Fans want to know all about your life, including your family and anything to do with you.
You might as well give them what they want to know instead of refusing to answer these questions.
Now, you can dislike me all you want, but this comes from the top. No more evasive answers.”
“This isn’t about money. And what does Zoe have to say about all this?” Brodie asked.
Harlow scoffed. “She’s not in charge on this trip; I am.”
“I looked at the press clippings today,” Van interjected. “There are reporters camped outside Rae’s rehab facility, and there are now several articles about Iain’s mom.”
“You know what? I’m done. I’m not doing promos or interviews while we’re here.” Iain pointed at Harlow and sat back down.
“I’m with Holls.” Brodie nodded. “We do the concerts, and we’re done.”
“I agree,” Faise replied.
Ronin nodded. “I’m with you guys.”
“That’s a violation of the terms of your contract,” Harlow reminded them.
“What’s Greg gonna do? Cancel the sold-out concerts?” Brodie sneered. “No fucking way. And we may be public figures, but that doesn’t mean everything is fair game. Get Greg on the phone. Now.”
Harlow pulled out his phone and tapped it. Then he placed it on the table in front of him. After a few rings, the voice of Greg Haddley answered.
“What is it now, Hines?”
Harlow leaned forward. “I’ve got the guys on speakerphone.”
“We’re done with PR on this trip, Greg,” Brodie snapped. “No more interviews. Last night was bullshit.”
“Stop being oversensitive, Brodie, and get on with your job.”
“In case you didn’t hear me, I said we are not doing any interviews for the next two months. Unless, of course, Harlow can assure us that he will let us review the questions in advance.”
Silence on the other end of the line was followed by a loud sigh.
“Fine. Hines, do as Brodie requested.”
I was shocked. And confused. Greg was known to be the type never to back down.
“You got it, boss,” Harlow answered, a surprised look on his face.
“Anything else?” Greg asked.
Brodie tapped on the phone to end the call.
“We done now?” Brodie asked as he walked over to the door and opened it. “We’ve got a rehearsal to get to.”
“I’ll meet you guys over there.”
“No need. Not today.”
Harlow grabbed his phone, stood up, and left the suite without saying another word.
Brodie slammed the door behind him.
“I can’t wait until May,” Brodie stated.
“Just a few more months, mon coeur,” Van replied, pulling his husband into his arms.
“Don’t look at your socials,” I added. “And I didn’t want to say while Harlow was here, but I did message Zoe. She’s fielding a lot of inquiries back home, mostly about Iain’s mom.”
“Are you okay, Holls?” Ronin asked.
“I will be. Like I told Dawson earlier, I don’t care about speculation when it comes to my sex life, but my childhood is off-limits. If, and that’s a huge if, I ever want to talk about it, it should be my choice to initiate the conversation.”
Everyone agreed.
“Enough of this shit, let’s go play some music. It’s my form of therapy,” Iain quipped.
An hour later, we arrived at the Palais D’Or, a smaller venue in the fourteenth arrondissement. Regan met us at the rear entrance with her usual brisk nod and perfect timing.
While Xavier did the rounds of the building, I got the guys settled in with Ace and the rest of the stage crew.
Regan pulled me aside. “I just got off the phone with Greg. I gather the guys let him have it?”
“They got Harlow to agree to pre-screen the upcoming interviews, but I have my doubts. Greg’s playing a game. He knows they’re going to walk soon.”
Regan nodded. “By the way, Greg confirmed we can hire a PI to look into these text messages.”
“That’s good.”
“It’s a start. I don’t think Holloway’s in any danger as of now, but we can’t take any chances. Has he been okay so far, or is he still trying to slip out from under you?”
Out from under me? That brought to mind a very different kind of cat-and-mouse game—one that involved Iain’s gorgeous, naked body under mine. And fuck, I shouldn’t even be thinking like that while standing in front of my boss.
“I think I’m finally getting through to him,” I replied.
Then I glanced over and caught Iain sticking his tongue out at me. I shook my head, but I couldn’t help but smile.
“Or maybe not. We had a self-defense practice this morning, and then we talked over breakfast in my room.”
Regan’s eyebrows nearly shot up to her hairline. “Really?”
“Also, something happened on the plane ride here—” I started.
“That better not mean what I think it does.”
“No, not that,” I quickly replied.
I was such a fucking liar. I couldn’t stop thinking about Iain and not in my security capacity. But nothing had happened. Okay, maybe grappling with him this morning had awakened more lusty fantasies. Now, all I could picture was wrapping my naked body around his…
“Dawson?”
“Sorry. I was calling my son, and suddenly, Iain popped into the seat next to me and started talking to him. And to my mom. After that, he told me about the text messages.”
Regan cocked her head and studied me. I hoped to hell she couldn’t read minds because she would not be happy with the direction of my thoughts about Iain.
“Maybe he finally realizes that his security isn’t a game and that we’re looking out for his best interests,” Regan replied. “We’re our own kind of family, and we look out for each other.”
The sudden blast of a guitar riff jolted me. I watched Iain and Brodie playing together.
“I hope so. But I’m not letting my guard down. When Iain gets stressed, that’s when he acts out. If we can keep an eye on him without being too overbearing, he’s less likely to want to break out.”
“What’s the plan for tonight?”
“The guys are headed to Nuit Eternelle, a nightclub not far from the venue.”
“Remember New Orleans,” Regan reminded me. “I want four of you everywhere they go—the dance floor, the bathrooms, you name it.”
I nodded. I was not going to let some drunken asshole assault Iain ever again.
“Don’t worry, boss; I won’t let him out of my sight.”
“Them.”
“What?”
“You said ‘him.’ I’m talking about all the guys.”
“Of course.”
Regan’s gaze sharpened, and I coughed into my fist.
“Wow. Is it dry in here, or is it me?”
“It’s you,” she responded quickly. “I’m taking a flight to London this evening to review the next leg on the schedule. Contact me day or night if anything comes up. I’ll be back the morning of the fourteenth.”
“I got it under control, boss.”
“I hope so.”
I had a feeling she was not talking about work.