Chapter 5 #2
“Just checking up on you, kiddo before I go to sleep. Everything going well out there in Hollywoodland?”
Ever since I chose music over medicine, Dad always thought I was one step away from living under a freeway overpass. If I did wind up there, he’d find a way to buy the freeway.
Mr. Rafe Alexander Martine the third, was a career diplomat and had connections everywhere.
Embassies, government offices, security firms. If you needed a problem solved, someone always seemed to owe him a favor.
And he used those favors to control people.
He didn’t understand my world. Didn’t want to.
Mom was a doctor and when she died in a car accident during my pre-teen years, Dad did everything to get me and my sister, Vivienne to take her place in medicine. It worked with Vivienne, who practiced in Boston. Never worked on me.
And he never got over it. He never stopped trying to control every aspect of our lives.
“Everything’s going great. I’m up for a promotion, and I’m running PR for a whole tour on my own.” I didn’t know why I bothered trying to impress Dad with my accomplishments. They would never be enough. I would never be enough.
“A concert tour? Cool. Who’s it for, Bruce Springsteen?”
I rolled my eyes at Jane. “Artists a little more modern than Bruce. Ashley Bennett, Conor Flynn, and Ji-yoon.”
He snorted. “Never heard of any of them. Wait. Conor Flynn. Is he the kid from that boyband you liked?”
“I more than liked them, Dad. I coordinated PR for them from the beginning—right before they got huge.” I don’t know how he could forget Conor. I cried like a baby on Vivienne’s shoulder when Conor left, and my sister usually told Dad everything.
“Will you be traveling with the singers?”
“I don’t know about traveling with them, but I’ll be at every venue across the country. We start in LA and head to San Diego, making our way across the southern part of the States.”
“That’s nice, kiddo. Do you have enough money to get by?”
“I’m good, Dad. It must be late in...Paris.” I had to think about where he was stationed. He still moved around a lot.
“Just about ten o’clock. I’m going to read a bit and turn in. You have fun on your tour, Noelle.”
“Will do.” As I ended the call, I grumbled to Jane, “Fun. This is my job, Jane.”
She licked her paws in agreement, and I blew her a kiss as I walked out the door.
The bus was in a studio parking lot near the airport. The tour companies that supplied buses often parked them in this studio lot before the tours hit the road as they had the space.
Tour bus life was nothing new to me. I accompanied Five2Go on their first UK tour. That’s how Conor and I had...gotten close. Did I want that again? I’d be just a part-time visitor this time, and I’d encourage Ashley to take up full-time residency.
Maybe I’d never gotten over Conor, but I also never got over the way he ghosted me when the band went to Australia. My heart couldn’t take another thrashing.
Forty minutes later, I pulled up to the fence, ringing the studio lot. Heavy chains secured with a padlock held the gates closed. I left my car outside the gate as I approached it. Clinging to the fence, I tugged on it rattling the chains.
“Anyone here?”
A motorcycle engine roared from beyond the gates, and a second later a Harley turned the corner of the first building and chugged toward me, the rider propelling the bike forward with one foot on the ground.
The guy on the bike cut the engine and slid off the seat, tugging on his sleeveless leather vest and adjusting his sunglasses. “Saw you on the CCTV. I’m Hamish. I run security for the lot.”
Hamish? He should be in a kilt instead of biker gear.
I glanced up at the camera blinking at the corner of the gate. “I’m Noelle Martine with 92 West. Came to check out the tour bus for Summer Live.”
“Yeah, I gotcha right here.” He tapped the side of his head, the naked woman tattoo on his bicep flexing her...whatever. From his pocket, he yanked an enormous set of keys, connected to his beltloop with a solid silver ring.
He selected a key and leaning forward, he inserted it into the padlock with a click. The chain clanked to the ground, coiling like a giant, metallic snake.
I stepped over it as I entered the lot. “Thank you, Hamish. Should I lock up when I leave?”
“Naw, I’ll take care of that. I’m gonna tinker with my bike out front, so I’ll watch the gate.” He waved a muscled arm behind him. “The bus is around the corner of that first building. Only one on the lot today. Can’t miss it.”
“Do you have keys to the bus, so I can check out the interior?” He studied me with a pair of slate-colored eyes under bushy brows. I raised two fingers. “I promise I won’t jack it and drive it off the lot.”
I held my breath as his eyes narrowed, and then he cracked a smile and giggled—the sound so at odds with his appearance, I snorted and then covered my mouth.
“You don’t look the type, Noelle.” He circled his eyes. “It’s the glasses.”
“You don’t look much like a Hamish, either.”
“Yeah, my mom got some crazy idea after reading too many Highland romances.” He patted his white T-shirt beneath the vest. “Most people call me Ham.”
“That I can believe.” I didn’t have the heart to tell him most romance authors assigned the name Hamish to the lovable, loutish sidekick and not the hot Highlander hero.
“The bus is unlocked. Knock yourself out.”
“I won’t be too long, thanks, Ham.”
I skirted the bike still spewing exhaust and smoke from its tailpipe and rounded the corner of the low-slung, beige building.
I tripped to a stop when I saw the double-decker bus in sunset shades of pink and orange.
The bus sported the Summer Live logo across the side, with the names of Ashley, Conor, and Ji-yoon beneath it.
Palm trees, fireworks, stars, and the silhouette of a crowd of people raising their arms completed the garish look.
Someone had forgotten the neon lights and bazooka horn on the outside.