Chapter 16
Luna
I’m scared. I feel it with every step I take toward our seats. I didn’t want to leave the dressing room. I stayed as long as I could.
Does Rio realize he rested his hand on my thigh the entire time?
I concentrated on my phone and tried to send him good energy as he scribbled away.
We were left alone for a while. I don’t know what he wrote.
Just that he kept going, and I posted some of my get-ready-with-me shots.
Lost in today's worries is that I got ready with beauty and lifestyle influencer Bougie Girl and Lauren Guerrera, owner of Autumn Lush, my favorite online clothing subscription. It’s another collaboration that Maeven secured from me.
It’s exciting because I’m such a big fan of both and my whole outfit is from their collab.
I feel good and comfortable as security takes Sel and me to our seats.
People scream in the crowded arena but unlike before, I don’t really hear their words.
I guess it’s like Rio told me the other night.
You can isolate yourself to the point you don’t hear them.
Because I have bigger things to internalize, like the fact that he’s about to step on this stage alone for the first time in almost two years.
And his world is different. When I get to our box, Esme and Maeven are already there.
We hug and exchange one look. My nerves are reflected in their faces.
Sel sits to my left, Maeven is my right, and Esme next to her.
“He’s got this,” Maeven tells me.
“Yeah,” I reply.
She smiles. “You two…”
My chest squeezes because her thoughts are written all over her face. Just like mine, too. “I…I think so. I don’t know what he thinks.”
“Girl…” she says and outright laughs. “There’s nothing more certain than what he thinks. It’s all over your faces.”
Is it really over his face? I don’t know…
But he’s shown you.
“I’m not going to assume.”
She nods. “I get it. You need the words, and that’s fine. As your publicist, this is both a dream and a panic attack.”
“Does this always happen?”
Her hand waves from side to side. “No. Mostly it’s purely transactional. Sometimes people get confused because the lines are blurred. I don’t think this is the case. I think he’s been attracted to you for a long time. You were too.”
“It was the Adina thing. I couldn’t…”
“I would never touch fire for a client, because I’ve been burned so many times.
Fucking Mateo.” She rolls her eyes. “But if there were a moment where I would for Rio, to say he never hit on Adina. He doesn’t lie.
Even when he fucks up, he comes clean. She was after him.
That’s why her mother wanted me to set them up together, but I wasn’t going to hand that grieving man into Bethany Belmont’s web. ”
My mouth falls open. I want to shake my head, but the shock renders me still. “Adina couldn’t have known. She would have told me.”
“No, she wouldn’t, Luna. This is the type of thing that requires an NDA, which they had your mom sign, but not you, after you became of legal age.”
“I wouldn’t have. What kind of friendship requires an NDA?”
She points her hands. “They’re vultures. You were there so she could copy your style and use you. That’s what they do. Remember when you were interning for me, and I told you the things you needed to keep to yourself like details for negotiation and who you’re interviewing with?”
I nod. “And I did.”
“Oh, I know. If you had not, you wouldn’t have gotten the Elevate job, because they would have stepped in front of you. It’s what happened with Bonita. She made a call to them.”
The floor almost gives way beneath me. Bonita Global was one of my dream companies.
It promotes a clean lifestyle, and its practices are humane, helping to build small communities in third-world countries.
After the interview, and out of pure excitement, I shared with Adina and her mom that I had done a great job.
I expected the offer. It never came and that devastated me.
They cut me at the knee and the sting of their betrayal threatens to cave my body.
“Why would they do that to me? I never hurt them in any way.”
Maeven shrugs. “Except, you did a lot. You have all this potential, qualities, and abilities Adina doesn’t.
She won’t ever apply herself. Part of that is a testament to you, but the other part is that you were not born with a silver spoon in your mouth.
Your mom worked like crazy for you and taught you to do the same.
Shit, you make your own clothes. Beautiful things too. ”
Someone brings us the feature drink of the night. I look at it and place it on the holder.
She points her chin at it. “You can drink it. We don’t have people doing fuck-shit here.”
“I’m just…I can’t believe this. How could Adina do this to me?”
“Jealousy. Envy. That’s why we’re building you back.
You always had great things going.” She tilts her head to the stage.
“When we accomplish that, you need to stand firm and not make the girlie mistakes we all do. Trust only those who have shown they stand behind you one hundred percent and are not threatened by who you are or what you attract. Don’t compromise your career for anyone.
If someone loves you, they’ll find a way to support you without being jealous or crazy because you’re winning. ”
Before I can reply or thank her, the lights drop and, along with them, so does my heart. A crowd of twenty-five thousand people begin screaming his name.
“Rio. Rio. Rio.” Chants rev the air.
As if triggered by the fans, his name made of thousands of lightbulbs, shines on the stage.
Maeven’s hand latches onto mine. Her fingers are cold.
Yeah, we’re all dying right now.
“New Yooooork,” his voice croons in his signature sexy voice. Then the beat drops. “Are you ready to shake it?”
“Yeeahh!” we all scream in unison.
“Vamo a romper.”
The spotlight focuses on the middle, and when he steps out, the arena erupts into chaos. My face splits into a smile. He opens with "Cuando la noche llega," and the audience answers, "I only got you on my mind."
I’m transfixed. He’s swaying his hips in a sexy way only he can evoke.
His stage presence, the way he commands attention, the lights playing with the shadows over his face and body, all create an immersive experience.
I’m captivated by his movements and how he lures our eyes to follow the outline of all those muscles and the new tattoos that I’ve yet to fully see.
The butterfly on his chest curves under his arm and his ribs and ends on his back.
His silken and soulful voice sends goosebumps over my skin.
And the arena is there with him, singing along at the top of their lungs without missing a beat—enthralled, just like I am.
Happiness swells in my chest. Tears fill my eyes, and when I look at Maeven, she is teary-eyed too. As is Esme. We exchange looks and laugh because he did it. He filled the arena and kicked off his tour.
Thirty minutes before the end of the show, Maeven leans over. “When he says goodbye, they’re going to come to take us to go backstage. Be prepared because it’s always a rush and a mad dash.”
I don’t take my eyes off the stage.
“New York. Thank you for all the love you’ve shown me and my new album. It means the world to me. But now, I want to go back in time so I can play Luna’s favorite song.” He’s looking around. “I want to see her dance on the screen and all of you along with her.”
The blood rushes through my head as a collective gasp echoes through the arena. The trumpet sounds in, and then the medley of instruments kicks in, and he gyrates his hips. “Dime Mami, que tu quiere que te haga.” He points the microphone to the audience.
“Que me des duro por la noche y la manana,” the audience yells back.
And before I know it, I’m shaking my hips along with everyone. During the pa bajo pa bajo pa bajo, we dip it low as he asks and pick it back up. Hands point to the screen, where I’m magnified for everyone to see.
And his eyes are on me, fanning the heat up my chest. I place my hands on each side of my head and roll my hips in that sensual way he likes.
Maeven leans over. “Are you sure you don’t know what he’s thinking?”
My heart hammers against my chest. By the time he begins to say goodbye to the audience, I’m so amped to tell him how good he was. Most of all, I’m bursting with excitement to hold him.
The guard comes to escort us to the back, and as Maeven says, it’s a mad dash so we can beat anyone trying to leave early. Rio starts singing Si tu me dejas with the audience, and everyone sings along with him—in the hallways, the concession stands, and even as we make it backstage.
“I want you close to where he will come out. He’ll want to see you,” Maeven tells me.
But not even two hundred feet from me is Adina and her friend Carrie. They begin to walk toward us, but there’s a rush, and my eyes focus on the muscular build toward me.
Rio passes a bunch of people calling his name. Before I can form a thought, his arms are around me, his sweat-slicked skin warm against me in a tight hug.
“You were amazing. Omg, I’m so proud of you.” I’m almost screaming the words.
Then he pulls back, takes my face in his hands, our eyes clashing as a myriad of emotions swirl in his eyes.
My throat closes, the air fails me, and I can almost see his intention right before his lips descend on mine.
There may be twenty-five thousand in the venue, but in this moment, it’s just us.
And I’m drowning in my emotions, in him, in us, because I’ve been wanting this kiss so badly.
I let him engulf me in the heat of his body, his natural scent mixing with his cologne, overwhelming me.
He pulls back, and we’re staring at each other like it’s the first time, even he’s tugged into a round of congratulatory hugs.