Chapter 5
Chapter Five
A fter three weeks of quarantine, Della’s warden still hadn’t produced any evidence that her stalker was anything more than a figment of overactive imaginations and paranoia.
She’d had enough.
Enough waiting. Enough judgment. Enough being alone.
Problem was, she couldn’t bust out of this prison. She’d promised everyone, crossed her heart and everything, that she would stay where her warden put her unless he gave her permission to leave.
No amount of begging, pleading, or bribing was getting through to him. He was a damn wall made of brick-shaped denial.
She had to get creative with captivity, and she had to do it today. Because Donovan Ward, Chief Pain in the Ass, had taken the day off.
Not that she cared if he left. She cared that he could, and she couldn’t. Talk about a double standard. But that was okay because a Sunday without him playing a human roadblock to fun opened up a chance to see friendly faces. She was going to snatch that opportunity with both hands.
She might not be allowed out, but nobody had said anything about having people in . Ward had given her the idea by having Annie and Spencer stop by so often. If they could come over, why couldn’t a few close personal friends?
A quick text to Marshall was all it took to put plans in motion for company to be delivered. That happy thought drove her out of bed.
She took a quick shower, pulled on her favorite red bikini, then hunted through the remains of Piper’s wardrobe for the oversized white gauze shirt with pretty pearl buttons to put on over her suit.
She was surprised her sister had left it behind when she moved in with Blake.
Maybe Piper didn’t need to cover up now that she had man-candy around the house. That errant thought triggered a flurry of images featuring her sister and Blake running naked through the house like they were starring in their own private rom-com. She giggled at the idea of her sister feeling free enough to do something like that. She was much more likely to do something like that than Piper.
An unwanted image of her and Ward the Warden doing the same thing flashed through her mind. She flushed and shoved it right back out. She didn’t need true love to have a bit of fun, but she did need the man to actually like her, and Ward thought she was a labradoodle masquerading as a person.
The tinkling buzz of an incoming call caught her attention.
She didn’t really want to answer it. It could be one of her sisters—or Ward.
Or it could be Marshall, verifying details for today’s plans.
“Fine. I’m coming. I’m coming,” she told the air and picked up the phone.
It was Piper.
She couldn’t ignore it. If she didn’t answer, Piper would come over. Bye-bye pool party.
Della activated the video call. “Hey, Pipsqueak. What’s up?”
“Good morning to you too.” Piper sounded amused. She eyed Della’s outfit. “That’s a little short on you, isn’t it?”
Della looked down. It just skimmed the top of her thigh, which was perfectly fine for going out to the backyard. “Did you call to play fashion police?”
“I just wanted to check in. Make sure things are going okay.” Her sister sounded too casual. Piper always had a sixth sense for knowing when Della was up to something.
Della squashed the sudden sense of guilt, along with the creeping feeling along the back of her neck that Piper already knew about the party.
Her sister couldn’t possibly know what she had planned.
Unless…
No. Surely, Marshall hadn’t blabbed to Blake. She’d told him specifically not to and he’d assured her he wouldn’t breathe a word of today’s escapade to either Blake or Piper.
“Everything’s fine,” Della said, widening her eyes and trying to think innocent thoughts. “Just because my babysitter left the house doesn’t mean I’m going to do something stupid.”
“Uh-huh.” Piper’s voice dripped with doubt.
“Did you want something?” Della busied herself with brushing her hair.
Piper studied her before giving a one-shoulder shrug. “I just wanted to let you know that Blake and I are leaving today for the shoot in Spain so it’ll be hard to get in touch with me for the next few weeks.”
“Oh. Dammit. I thought that was next week.” A sliver of disappointment flitted through her chest. She’d been hoping to tag along for at least part of that trip, but the Letter That Changed the World had put an end to that.
“It was next week…last week. Now it’s this week.”
“I lost track. All the days have blurred together into one giant lump.”
“It’s been three weeks, Del, not three years.”
“Feels like a decade,” Della muttered. She picked up the phone and carried it with her. She needed to double-check that her warden had left the building because people would be showing up soon. “Time does not fly when you’re in prison.”
“You’re not in prison.” Piper picked up a pair of leggings and folded them. “Look, I know this is all a pain in the ass, but it won’t last forever.”
“Trust me, if you spent quality time with Warden Ward, you’d feel trapped too.” Della tiptoed down the hall to check the guest bedroom he’d used.
“He can’t be that bad.”
“Don’t underestimate him.” Della kept her voice low in case he was still around. “He has that clean-cut, rules-are-there-to-be-followed military thing that just shouts ‘Funkiller.’”
“It shouts ‘Serious and professional’ and ‘I’ll keep you safe.’ That’s not a buzzkill. Some women would swoon over that.”
“Well, it freaks me out. He’s too serious, and he’s just there , like a judgy statue, all the time.”
“He’s supposed to be there. That’s his job.” Piper peered at the screen. “What are you doing?”
“He said he would be back Monday, but I don’t believe him. He could be lurking somewhere just waiting to see what I’ll do.” The guest room door was wide open, and the room was empty. She checked the bathroom just to be sure. “He watches me like he thinks I’m a flight risk, and he treats me like a child.”
“Oh…don’t make it that easy for me.” Piper’s grin promised pure mischief.
“You should be nice to me, you know. I have a stalker.” Della made a pouty face for emphasis before she continued down the hall to the second bedroom.
“Come on, it can’t be that bad.” Piper pushed something else into the suitcase. “Has he been rude to you?”
“Define rude . If you mean constantly repeating rules like ‘Stay out of the front yard and off social media,’ and ‘Don’t tell anyone where you are,’ and ‘Stick to the pool area,’ then yes, he’s rude.”
“I mean actually rude, not explaining how you can stay safe in a way you don’t like.”
“No,” she was forced to admit. “He doesn’t talk much at all, actually. When he does, he says all the polite things. ‘Good morning, did you sleep well? No, you can’t go for a drive.’ You know they have my keys locked up in the guard house? As if I couldn’t call an Uber.”
“No, you really can’t. Della…,” Piper said with a sharp, almost panicked tone.
Della held up a hand in surrender. “I’m not going to actually do it. I should, but I won’t. I told you I’d stay, so here I am. Staying. Do you have any idea how hard this is for me? I’m going to lose my mind if this goes on much longer. I miss going out. I miss having things to do. I miss people .”
Piper’s expression shifted into something almost sympathetic. “You could work on the new song if you’re that bored. All my equipment is still there.”
“Been there. Done that.” Della peered into the second bedroom. It looked untouched and empty. “It’s a great song. It’ll be a huge hit at the VIP concert.”
A text buzzed across the screen. Della tilted her head to read it.
Marshall: Eats and drinks shld b 2 u in 30
“That’s only two weeks away. Has Ward cleared that?” Piper eyed her with suspicion. “What was that?”
“Nothing.” Della sent a quick thumbs-up emoji and continued down the hall. She had to get off the phone without sounding like she wanted to get off the phone or Piper would scurry over on principle. “I don’t care if he’s cleared it or not. I promised I’d be there.”
“It’s not about keeping a promise, Della. Not this time.”
“Yes, it is.” Della stopped mid-hallway. “The fans are expecting me to be there. It’s the last one this year, and you’ve been talking about it on Wednesday Morning Coffee Chats for a month. I can’t let them down.”
Piper hesitated. “They’d understand. We can tell them you’re sick or something.”
“I promised,” Della repeated. “The fans are just as important to me as they are to you, and there’s no way a stalker, or Warden Ward, or anybody else is going to stop me from keeping my word to them.”
“Nobody expects you to put your life at risk for a concert. Especially not me,” Piper snapped in her don’t-argue-with-me tone that always made Della want to do exactly that. “And if the fans knew what was going on, they’d agree with me.”
“Well, they don’t know, do they? So I’d just look like a selfish bitch.” Della reined in her temper and did her best to smooth her tone. She didn’t want a fight, she just wanted off the phone. “I’ve spent a lot of my life looking like that and acting like that. I let you all down more times than I can count, and I’m done with it. All of it. I don’t need my babysitter’s permission, and I’m not asking for it. I’m going.” She realized she’d jutted her chin out like a stubborn child and pulled it back down. “Don’t you need to finish packing?”
Piper glanced at something off to the side and swore. “We leave in an hour.”
“You better get going then,” Della said. Hopefully, she didn’t sound so excited that it made Piper suspicious.
“We aren’t done talking about this.” Her sister tossed two more things into the suitcase without folding them. “I’ll have Romi check with Ward about the concert. Maybe they can do something about the security.”
“Fine.”
“I love you,” Piper said. A T-shirt dangled from one hand as she gave Della her full attention. The look on her face was a mix of I-know-something-is-going-on and I-don’t-have-time-to-deal-with-this. She’d seen that look plenty of times before, though usually it was from Lizzie. “Please don’t do anything stupid. Please?”
“Love you too. Have fun. Send pictures.” Della gave her sister an air kiss and ended the call.
“Define stupid ,” she said to herself as she crossed the empty living room.
She found Greg and a breakfast smoothie waiting for her in the kitchen. He wore a dark T-shirt and blue jeans, which seemed way too hot for a pool day. “You could let loose a little, you know. Maybe get a dip in the pool? We have a whole security team here to back you up.”
“I’m working,” Greg said with a small shake of his head. “What’s stupid?”
“Being stuck in this house for weeks on end.” She took a sip. “Mmm, you made it good today. Is he gone?”
“He left at dawn. Said he’d be back in twenty-four hours.” Greg drained the last of his own smoothie and carried the glass to the dishwasher.
“Good.” She checked the time on her phone. “The caterer should be here any minute. Can you make sure they get past the gate?”
“I already cleared it.” He cast a sideways glance at her. “You sure we should be doing this?”
“Oh no.” She put down her half-empty smoothie. “The warden didn’t get to you too, did he?”
“No.” Greg shook his head for emphasis, but the look on his face wasn’t convincing.
“Come on, Greg. You agree with me, right? We’ve been holed up here for three weeks and nothing’s happened. They have no idea who left the letter, and there hasn’t been anything else. No notes, no emails, nothing. He probably got arrested or died or something. It’s not a big deal.”
“It’s a little bit of a deal.” Greg pointed at the smoothie. “Finish that. I added fiber and extra protein.”
Della glanced around her gilded cage. It was a nice house, but it wasn’t where she wanted to be. “I’m staying in the house or the pool area like I keep getting told to do, but nobody said anything about having people over. We know everyone who’s coming except the caterer, and you vetted them, right?”
“Yeah.” Greg raised his left eyebrow like Spock. “Drink.”
She drained the rest of the smoothie like it was a shot of whiskey. “I’m going to scrounge up some pool toys. You make sure the security guys are all on board.”
He gave her a doubtful look, but she could tell he’d do what she asked. He always did.
She patted his arm. “Get the fun police out of your head. It’ll be fine because you’re here. Nobody wants to tangle with you.”
He snorted. “Right.”
Marshall Weston arrived at her front door with a girl on his arm and a caravan of party people behind him.
Marshall gave her a conspiratorial grin. “Who’s ready to party?”
“You brought people!” Della threw her arms around him with glee and squeezed him like the lifeline he was. “I knew I could count on you.”
His arms tightened around her. “Always.”
Della released Marshall and glanced behind him at the line of cars that stretched past the tree line. Every car had multiple people in it. “Wow. That’s more than a handful. Did you bring the entire cast?”
“What can I say, I’m a fun magnet,” Marshall said with that proud tilt to his chin that made him irresistible in rom-coms. “When they told me you had to lay low, I wondered how long it would last. My bet was on three days.”
“I made it longer than you would have. I’ve been here three weeks .”
“Epic,” Marshall conceded with a grudging nod. “I’d have caved the first night.”
“You’d have caved the first hour,” she teased.
Marshall’s date leaned into him with a he’s-mine look. “What do you mean ‘lay low’?”
“Oh, nothing.” Marshall planted a kiss on his girlfriend’s cheek, which she received like the princess she probably thought she was. “Della, meet Larissa. She’s playing the lead in Shout at the Moon , and she’s fantastic.”
Della gave the woman what she hoped was a friendly I-don’t-want-your-man look. “Be sure to keep this one away from the vodka. It makes him crazy.”
“Hey,” Marshall protested, “it’s way too sunny for vodka. Pool parties demand a frosty cold one. Catering brought all the essentials, right? I told them to go overboard.”
“There’s plenty of frosty-cold everything. Head on back to the pool.” Della beamed and waved everyone through the door. “Have fun, you two.”
She liked Marshall. Their brief time together had been filled with a lot of laughs, a lot of sex, and not much else. They were too much alike to work as a couple.
Della turned her attention to the long line of arrivals, greeting them with the enthusiasm of a people person who’d been cooped up way too long.
After fifteen minutes of meet and greet, Greg murmured in her ear. “Do you know all these people?”
She glanced at him. “Some. You should recognize that group over by the hedge. They’re some of my roadies.”
“That’s five people. What about the rest?”
She gave a half-hearted shrug. “They came with Marshall. That guy there, the short one with spiked hair, was in Piper’s last movie. Think his name is Ralph. Ralph…something.”
Greg scanned the remaining line, and the corners of his mouth flexed in a grimace.
“Okay so I don’t know all their names,” she admitted. “But a lot of them have been on set when we’ve visited Piper or Marshall. I think.”
She actually wasn’t sure about that. Many of them seemed familiar, but she wasn’t sure if it was because she’d seen them in a movie, if she’d actually met them, or if they just looked like someone she knew.
She knew a lot of people. Her warden hadn’t been wrong about that. Not many of them were what she’d call intimate friends, though.
She put a comforting hand on Greg’s arm. “Stop worrying. Marshall knows what’s going on, and he wouldn’t bring anybody he thought was an issue.”
“Uh-huh.” Greg cast a doubtful gaze at the line of cars.
A group of three men caught her attention as they wound their way around the cars now blocking the drive. They were already dressed for the pool in swim trunks and T-shirts.
All three could have been cover models, but one dark-haired fantasy stood several inches above the others. He had a body that shouted “Touch me” and an infectious laugh that called to her from across the drive.
Della eyed him with interest. “There’s someone I’d like to know better.”
Greg pointedly didn’t comment.
“Hi,” she said as soon as tall, dark, and insanely seductive was close enough. “Have we met?”
“We have now.” His smile was an open invitation that she wanted to accept. “Scott Baldwin.”
She gripped his hand, appreciating that he didn’t give the dead fish shake so many men used when greeting a woman. “Della Bellamy.”
“I’ve seen you on set with Blake and Marshall.” He put his other hand over hers. “It’s a pleasure to officially meet.”
Della’s smile widened so far it started to hurt. “Pleasure’s all mine. Go on in, make yourself at home.” She liked the way his gaze lingered on her mouth before he went inside with his friends. “Oh yeah, I definitely want to know him better.”
“Is he one of those Baldwins?” Greg asked.
“Does it matter?”
He huffed out a snort.
Saying hello to a sea of friendly faces filled all the empty spaces inside her that three weeks alone had caused. That made everyone here instant friends as far as she was concerned.
Music started up behind her with a dance beat she couldn’t ignore. “I’m going to head on back and get the party started. You stay and make sure the rest look like they belong here, okay? At least with everybody nearly naked, you know they’re not carrying weapons, right?”
Greg grunted his acknowledgment, but he had frown lines around his eyes. “Ward’s not going to like this.”
“That’s why we’re not going to tell him about it.” Della gave him one more reassuring pat on the arm. “It’ll be fine.”
She hurried through the house to the backyard, where her prison had been transformed into a paradise filled with partygoers having a good time.
The mouth-watering scent of roasted pork wafted out of the kitchen, and The Bellamy Sisters’ latest hit came on loud enough to shake the neighborhood.
It seemed like whoever had taken control of the playlist wasn’t above flattery, and she was not above liking it. She laughed and waved at the crowd.
“Let’s get this party started!” Her shout was filled with all the exuberance she’d kept locked up since their last concert.
The crowd answered her with shouts and cheers and splashes from the pool.
She soaked it all in. There was life all around her again. Finally. It was heaven. Heaven filled with music and laughter and sun and people. Lots and lots of people.
Someone nearby called her name. A muscled man in long dark red trunks and mesh shirt. He held up a beer in tribute. “Thanks for the invite!”
Several others joined in the chorus of thanks.
She gave a half bow. “Thanks for coming. It’s been lonely around here.”
“Not anymore!” a male voice called out.
She couldn’t see who’d said it, but she gave a little laugh in the general direction she thought it came from.
“No. Not anymore.” She waved at everyone on the patio. “Enjoy!”
Della spotted a group that included Scott Baldwin by the deep end of the pool. Marshall, Larissa, Ralph, and a few others clustered around him. She headed in that direction.
“Della,” Scott said when she got close, “do you know Emma? She was in Screech 3 .”
The curvy girl in a bright green one-piece suit that perfectly showed off her flaming-red hair held out a hand. “Thanks for the invite.”
“Of course. And who’s this?” Della turned to the leggy blonde in turquoise standing next to Ralph.
“Kennedy Aniston,” the girl said with a little wave. “Loved your last concert. I was lucky enough to be in the third row.”
“That’s so sweet of you to say,” Della told her. “I’m glad you were there. It was a special night.”
Scott touched her arm. “You up for pool volleyball?”
“You should totally join us,” Emma said with enthusiasm. “It’ll be a blast. Girls on boys’ shoulders so we can play in the deep end. It’s only five feet.”
Della pictured herself riding Scott’s shoulders and nodded enthusiastically. “Hell yeah, I’m in.”
It took some time to get the game going. The first challenge was staying seated on Scott’s shoulders for more than a few seconds. They were both wet, and his shoulders were slick. Her hands slipped more than once, only a little on purpose.
After several failed attempts, she finally managed to get her legs wrapped firmly around his neck. She tucked her feet up against his chest to steady herself. Water lapped at her ankles, and Scott grasped her thighs tight enough to keep her steady.
The skin-on-skin contact sent little thrills of excitement up her spine and through other body parts.
“There you go!” Marshall said with a laugh of approval. “Here, you start us off.”
Marshall tossed the ball at her, but it sailed a little too far to the left. Scott swerved, and she almost dove off his shoulders to catch it.
His grip tightened on her legs, which was the only reason she didn’t fall off. She managed to snag the ball and bring it in, then overbalanced and pitched forward.
She wiggled and squirmed in a heroic effort to keep the ball and stay upright. The motion sparked heat in her belly that settled into her crotch, while thoughts of what they could be doing if they were in the bedroom and not the pool danced through her head.
It had been too long since she’d been touched like that. Way too long.
“Steady there, girl,” Scott laughed.
Della settled into place and held the ball up. “Ready?”
Marshall swayed back and forth while Larissa gripped his head with both hands. “Set!”
Ralph and Emma shouted, “Ready” at the same time. Emma perched perfectly on his shoulders while he looked unsteady and too short to be in the deep end of the pool. The water was up to his shoulders, but it didn’t seem to bother him.
Or maybe he just liked having a pretty girl’s legs wrapped snuggly around him.
Della looked at Kennedy and her partner, a bronzed California beach bum with too much five o’clock shadow and full-sleeve tattoos. “Ready!”
Della didn’t think she knew him, but she guessed he was a musician by the sheer number of music notes on his body. The way he flexed his hands and arms made her think drummer.
Della nodded. “Here we go!” She launched the ball, and it just cleared the top of the net.
Marshall leaped forward in an attempt to catch it himself, causing Larissa to topple into the pool.
Laughter erupted around them.
Larissa sputtered to the surface and splashed playfully at Marshall. “Jerk!”
“Sorry!” Marshall pulled her in for a long kiss that caused wolf whistles and catcalls from everyone close enough to watch.
When Marshall released her, Larissa pushed the hair out of her eyes with a giggle. “You’re forgiven.”
“Our point?” Scott asked.
Their self-designated referee, a girl Della thought looked familiar but had no idea why, pointed at him. “Point to Team Della. That’s one-nothing.”
Pffzztt pop.
The music died.
One second, a Starborn song about summer filled the air, and the next second, it was gone.
“Did we blow a fuse?” Scott asked as he spun around. He tightened his grip on her thighs to keep her secure.
“I hope not,” Della said. A flurry of guilt flitted through her stomach. “Piper will kill me if we broke her house.”
Her guilt grew when she saw Ward standing on the DJ’s platform. He held a power cord like he wanted to choke someone to death with it. He took his sunglasses off and squinted against the sun as he methodically surveyed the crowd, causing a ripple as people shifted to escape his glare.
Della had a feeling it was her neck he was looking for.
“Who’s that?” Larissa asked.
“I think it’s the party police,” Marshall said in a soft undertone.
Ward’s gaze fell on Della, flicked down to the man between her legs, then back up to her.
She felt like an ant under a giant magnifying glass. Any second now, lasers would shoot out of his eyes.
Heat rushed to her cheeks. It was the same embarrassed, defiant jolt of adrenaline that came when her daddy had caught her coming through the bedroom window an hour after curfew.
Resentment joined the party.
She wasn’t a teenager, and she wasn’t doing anything wrong.
“You. With me.” The gravel in his voice and the anger in his eyes made her want to run in the opposite direction. “Now.”
“Somebody’s in trouble,” someone singsonged behind Della.
“It’s gonna be you if you don’t shut up,” Ralph muttered. “He looks pissed.”
“And hot,” someone else said loud enough for Ward to hear. “We should ask him to join us.”
Della saw the muscles along the side of Ward’s face ripple as he clenched his jaw. The crowd shifted uneasily, and a few nervous giggles punctuated the uncomfortable stillness.
She patted Scott’s hand. “Let me down.”
He looked up, his grip firmly in place. “You sure? Is he your ex or something?”
“Worse. He’s my babysitter.” Della looked behind her to make sure the coast was clear. “Getting off.”
He let go of her legs, and she fell backward into the water. The shock of it hitting her sun-warmed back stung like a slap.
“Babysitter?” Scott asked when she resurfaced.
“Forget it. I better go deal with this.” She swam to the side of the pool and dipped her head under one last time to clear the hair off her face, then stepped out.
Ward focused on her, but she had a feeling he was aware of everyone and everything in the backyard. He gave off the impression that he was standing right next to her even though he was ten feet away. She had no idea how he did that, but she didn’t like it at all.
She picked up a towel and started drying her hair to keep herself from sputtering out some kind of excuse or apology.
She didn’t owe him a damn thing.
He stared at her with those steel-blue eyes like she was the worst woman he’d ever met.
She glared back like he was the most annoying man on the planet.
The space between them steamed.
Seconds tick-tick-ticked.
She wrapped the towel around her waist and raised her chin in defiance.
His nostrils flared. She thought he might shout, or throw something, or maybe quit.
Instead, he tore his gaze away to shoot Greg a look that promised retribution. “Get these people out of here.”
Guilt poked its way into the mix of anger and resentment bubbling inside her. Greg had done what she’d asked him to do. He didn’t deserve to take the heat of Ward’s foul mood.
Greg hesitated for a fraction of a second like he wanted to argue, but then he nodded. He made a wrap-it-up gesture with one hand and shouted, “Party’s over.”
Della wanted to protest. This was her house, sort of, and her life and her party.
But she could see it was too late for that. People were drying off and heading toward the door.
Several cast furtive glances at her as they left.
Heat crawled into Della’s cheeks and down the back of her neck. The gossip this little episode would generate would probably fuel social media for a week, especially if even one person leaked any news of this to the paparazzi.
If that happened, her sisters would kill her. Especially Piper.
Ward dropped the cord and flicked his hand at the DJ as he stalked back into the house. “Pack it up.”
“You sure you’re okay?” Scott put a hand on Della’s shoulder. “Want me to stick around?”
“No.” She forced a smile onto her face and gave Scott a grateful peck on the cheek. “I want to yell at him in private. It was really nice meeting you, Scott.”
Scott gave her a doubtful look as he tugged on his shirt.
Nothing said a party was over like a hot guy putting his shirt on.
“Let me give you my number just in case,” Scott said. “If he tries anything, call 911 and then call me.”
“You’re a good man, and very sweet. Don’t worry about me. He might look mean, but he won’t hurt me. And Greg’s here to keep me safe.” She was pretty sure it would go against every bodyguard’s code to actually murder their client. That said, she wasn’t about to let grumpy pants ruin the start of a good thing. She liked Scott. She wouldn’t mind having a do-over with him. “Give me your phone.”
She programmed in her number and handed it back with a light brush of her fingers against his. “I had fun today. Text me and I’ll give you a call when I’m out of jail.”
“Hope it’s soon.” Scott cast one more frown at the door where Ward had disappeared, then left.
Della watched him go, and the rest of her party with him. She’d been having such a good time.
Warden Ward really was a buzz kill.