Chapter 20 #2
She crouched forward, cranking her head from side to side to check the hallway. “I don’t think we should be seen together.”
I pushed open the door and grunted. “You’re my publicist. I think it’s okay.”
“I’m also your bus fuck buddy.” She fell across my bed and then sprang up. “Don’t get any ideas.”
“I always have ideas when I’m around you, baby.”
“Don’t...” she pointed an unsteady finger at me “...call me baby.”
“Why? Does it get ya hot?” I grabbed her finger and pressed a kiss in her palm.
“I’m here on business.”
“I’m sick of talking about Ashley Bennett and her schemes.” I dropped Noelle’s hand and walked to the balcony. I slid open the door and stepped into the desert heat, not much different from Arizona’s, except for those mysterious looking volcanic buttes.
“It’s a hundred degrees out there, at least. You’re letting out all the AC—typical Brit.” She joined me anyway and dropped into one of the chairs. “This is about that other business.”
I swiveled my head toward her. “Did you discover anything new?”
“A little. Remember I told you I DM’d Louise on Instagram. She replied.” Noelle took her phone from the little bag strapped across her body. “Do you wanna hear what she said?”
“Did she name names?”
“No, but she did confirm that she was the responsible party for issuing and programming the new phones.”
“Okay.” I sat forward. “I suppose she doesn’t remember the phones in Australia.”
“Actually, she does. It was the first time Gordon ordered new phones and numbers for you guys. So, it was kind of a test run.”
“Is she implying mistakes were made because it was a trial run for the phone swap?” I gripped the balcony railing.
“Because that’s bollocks, Noelle. It might be believable if we got out of service notifications when we tried to text each other, or if someone responded that we had the wrong number.
But we didn’t. My old number was reassigned to someone who was instructed not to respond to your texts or voicemails.
And the number they programmed into my phone for you went to someone who was instructed not to let me know I had the wrong number.
That’s not a coincidence. That’s sabotage. ”
Standing up next to me, she rubbed my back. “I know, and that’s not what Louise suggested. She just indicated that she swapped your phones, and Gordo warned her not to give out your new numbers to anyone. That’s why I didn’t get your number.”
“Did you tell her why you were asking?” I pinned my gaze to the wavy desert landscape and took a deep breath. Noelle’s touch calmed me—it always did.
“I didn’t get to that yet. Should I ask her directly how my number could’ve been incorrectly transferred to your phone?” She held out her cell. “Do you want me to read the whole thing? Sit down. Do you want something to drink?”
I plopped into the chair and wedged my feet against the balcony. “I’m good. You don’t have to read the whole thing. I get the idea. Can you ask her about the transfer?”
“I’ll do it right now.” Her fingers flew over her screen, and she read aloud as she typed.
“Thanks for responding, Louise. I know it sounds a little cra...daft after all this time, but I’m comparing notes with someone back in the day.
Is there any way a number from the old phone could’ve transferred into the new phone as a wrong number? ”
She glanced at me. “How’s that? Anything else?”
“That works.” I pounded my fist into my palm. “I want answers, Noelle.”
“I know you do.” She stroked my arm. “I want them too, but I’m happy we figured out that something happened, and that we didn’t ghost each other.”
“How long?” I grabbed her fingers on my arm.
She tilted her head. “How long what?”
“How long did you wait for me? How long before you gave up on me?”
“Forever. And I don’t think I ever gave up on you, Con.” She pulled her hand out of mine and pressed it against her chest. “In here, I always loved you. I even stopped hating you for leaving me when I saw how high Five2Go soared. I wanted you guys to succeed more than I wanted it for myself.”
“That’s your problem, Nollaig. You’re too sweet for this business.” I leaned over and kissed her trembling lips. They tasted as fresh as they did that first time on our original tour bus. Now we’d claimed a second tour bus as our own.
She cupped my chin with her hand. “Can I see your tattoo again?”
“You’re just trying to get me out of my pants.” I captured her hand and nibbled on her fingertips.
“It would be...original to do it somewhere other than a bus.” She fluttered her lashes at me.
“What happened to hands off the talent until we can resolve our PR issue.”
Turning her head to peer back into the room, she said, “Do you see any phones or fans?”
“We both know it wasn’t a fan who took that picture of us coming off the bus, kissing.”
“We don’t, actually. There were other people in that hotel. Maybe someone discovered the tour bus back there and wanted to take a look.”
“Could be.” I stood up on the balcony and stretched. “Let’s see what it’s like in a bed.”
She scrambled to her feet so fast, she knocked over her chair. Putting her hand to her mouth, she said, “Sorry.”
“Sorry for being excited to fuck me?” I cinched her around the waist. “I don’t think so.”
“Wait. Let me grab my phone in case there’s some freak desert rainstorm.” She swept her phone from the table and did a little hop. “Louise answered already. I guess it’s not too late for her in England.”
I looked over her shoulder and read, “There’s no way old numbers got changed from the TRANSFER.”
The phone trembled along with Noelle’s hand. “Why’d she capitalize transfer?”
“I think we both know why. It’s because the number got changed after the transfer.” I tapped the phone with an impatient finger. “Ask her if she changed numbers after the data transfer.”
“Th-that would be like accusing her of wrong-doing. I can’t do that.”
“I can.” I snatched the phone from Noelle’s hand and entered a question of my own. I read it to Noelle before I hit Send. “Did you change any numbers after the transfer of phones in Australia?”
Noelle nodded, and I sent the message.
We walked toward the bed and perched on the edge, staring at her phone together, all thoughts of shagging out the door—or at least one foot out the door.
No bubbles on DMs, so we had no idea if Louise was answering or had chucked her phone across the room.
Finally, a message appeared:
I did
Noelle’s fingers seemed frozen, so I typed the question on both our minds:
Did you change mine?
We held our breaths, barely moving. Then Louise’s answer appeared:
I did