Chapter 22
"How are you feeling today?" Mia looked up from her phone when Erin stopped beside her.
They were in the hotel's private dining room, and it was breakfast time, but today the doctor was paying extra attention because the concert was that night.
"Fine. I haven't felt that weird pressure again." The singer touched the back of her neck. "I'm perfectly okay."
A server came over with her plate, and Mia gestured to a chair across from her.
"Do you want to have breakfast with me?"
"Where's Noah?" Erin asked, surprised, since they always ate together.
"In his room. He has company," she said, and that crooked smile appeared, making Erin's stomach tighten.
"Oh." The doctor sat down across from her.
"Have you ordered already?" the singer asked.
"Yeah, don't worry. And while we're at it—how many hours did you sleep?"
Mia made a face. This was only the second time Erin had sat with her since all of this started, and she would have loved for her to spend the time on something other than her damn fainting spells, but the doctor had asked for a truce, and Mia was willing to do whatever it took if it meant Erin might change her mind about her.
"Six hours, maybe seven. Did you sleep well?"
Erin looked up from her small notebook, caught off guard.
"It's just a question, Dooley. It won't kill you to answer."
The corner of Erin's mouth curved, and Mia felt a sudden rush of desire swirl through her.
"Yeah, I slept pretty well."
"Glad to hear it." The singer sounded so sincere that Erin didn't know what to say next, because she wasn't used to people asking her things like that.
"I've had half a liter of water since I got up, and now this." Mia pointed to her glass.
"Good. Try to drink a little more than usual today."
"Relax. You've trained me well."
Erin smiled again, and her breakfast arrived, and that was when she realized Mia had been waiting without touching her own food.
"Enjoy," the singer said before attacking her scrambled eggs.
"Thanks, you too."
They ate in comfortable silence, and when they finished, Erin stood and moved to sit beside her to take her pulse.
The singer's blue eyes stayed fixed on the fingers resting on her skin—the fingers she would have loved to feel pressing against the back of her neck again while her mouth opened against Erin's.
"Everything okay?" she asked when the doctor let go and wrote in her notebook.
"Yeah, all within normal range. What's the plan for today? I don't know when I'll get to talk to Noah, and I need to organize myself."
"And organize my day," Mia added with a wry look.
"Right. Same thing."
"I'm free until the costume fitting, which is at four. Then another rest period, sound check at seven, show at eight-thirty."
Erin took notes as she listened, and Mia could only watch the strands of hair falling across her face and her slightly parted lips, which, ever since she'd tasted them, had become an addiction.
"Got it all." Erin tilted her head to look at her, arms resting on the table, the lines of her muscles catching the singer's attention.
Erin followed her gaze and looked down at herself, growing more aware that she liked knowing Mia was attracted to her. She cleared her throat, and the singer looked up.
"No exertion today, and stay away from the gym. Keep drinking water and rest. We'll split your meals in two—an early one and a light one around four. After the costume fitting you'll have a snack that includes something sweet, and after that, liquids only until the show's over."
"I hate you when you say these things."
Erin winked at her and didn't realize what she'd done until she stood up and saw Mia's mouth fall open.
There was no way to know what that small gesture had meant to the singer, but if she'd dared to ask, Mia would have told her her heart was racing and she'd felt a sharp pulse of heat between her legs.
After hanging up a call with Barry, Erin walked into Mia's room at four.
Inside were five people besides the singer: the stylist and her assistant, who hovered around Mia like a pair of flies; Noah, who was sprawled sideways in an armchair with his headphones on and a tablet in his lap; Jude was out on the terrace on the phone; and seated at the table was Violette, the lawyer Erin hadn't seen since this whole Wild tour adventure began.
"Dooley." Violette smiled as she stood and walked toward her with an extended hand. "Good to see you—how's it going?"
"Good, I'm settling in," Erin answered, glancing sideways toward Mia because she'd just heard her laugh and couldn't help looking.
The singer was on her feet, wearing the kind of pants she usually wore during shows and a fitted top.
The stylist was crouched in front of her, working on something at her waist, while the assistant and Mia cracked up over something one of them had said, and Erin thought she was even prettier when she laughed.
"Is that one new?" the lawyer asked, nodding toward the assistant.
Erin looked back and forth between them without quite knowing how to answer, because she wasn't sure herself—she definitely hadn't seen the girl before.
"Mia really does have a gift for charming any woman she meets. Looks like we've got a candidate for her plus-one tonight."
Violette's comment was completely innocent. She hadn't said it as a criticism, just an observation, but Erin suddenly felt her ribs compress, and an uncomfortable sensation she recognized right away as jealousy took hold of her all at once.
"Maybe."
For a fraction of a second, the thought crossed her mind to take advantage of Violette being here—to tell her she wanted out of her contract, that she'd give them the two weeks they'd agreed on to find another doctor, and she'd go back to New York as soon as they did.
But she swallowed the words and forced herself to remember that she and Mia had nothing precisely because she hadn't wanted anything, so if the singer wanted to sleep with a different woman every night, she'd have to accept it.
"Hey, Dooley." Jude's voice made her turn around, and she returned a greeting just as dry as the one he'd given her.
She couldn't stand him. Ever since the manager had tried to add more events to the singer's schedule even after she'd nearly fainted the day before, Erin had understood that for this man, business came before Mia's health.
She'd had another run-in with him a week ago when he mentioned he was negotiating two new tour dates, and she hadn't been able to stop him entirely because Mia was doing well at the time.
"You two look like you adore each other," Violette remarked, amused, as Jude walked over to Nell, who had just come into the room.
"He's not exactly my favorite person, that's for sure."
The lawyer laughed and sat back down, and Erin dropped into the seat beside her while she waited for the stylist and her assistant to free Mia up so she could take her vitals.
"He can be kind of an ass sometimes."
"He doesn't give a damn what happens to Mia. She should fire him and find someone who builds her schedule around her health, not around how much he can bill."
"That's her call to make." Violette glanced over at Jude, making sure he wasn't listening. "There's an agency in New York called Stone & Cottet. Two partners, Abigail and Liam—either of them would do a better job than Jude, and I promise you they'd put Mia's health first."
"How do you know?"
"Because I know them, especially her. I've worked with their lawyers a few times. Abigail is cold as ice, but she's one of the best agents in the country, and I guarantee she'll negotiate whatever she has to while always protecting Mia's wellbeing. Like I said, I can't get involved, but you…"
Erin looked back at the singer and thought that if the subject ever came up, she'd mention it so Mia could consider finding someone who actually looked out for her.
Erin tugged at her shirt and drank water until the bottle was nearly empty. It was stifling in the venue, and she'd demanded more fans on the stage for Mia, who had come down a while ago drenched in sweat after the sound check. The suggestion had cost her yet another argument with Jude.
"That's going to set us back, Dooley. They can't just go anywhere—this stage is smaller."
"I don't care how small it is. Either you get them set up or you cancel the show, but Mia is not spending two hours up there in this heat. She'll pass out before the halfway point."
Jude had huffed and turned his back on her, but he'd obeyed, and now three technicians were running cables and moving equipment around to fit four massive fans that covered every part of the stage where the singer moved.
A murmur of voices made her turn, because she recognized one of them—and she immediately found herself looking at Lexie Farhall's smile as she waved from a few yards away while talking with a couple of photographers covering the event.
Erin waved back and suddenly felt nervous under the journalist's gaze, which made it clear she wanted a repeat of what had happened at the last concert.
She turned back and took her position at the right side of the stage.
She couldn't think about her right now, but her mind kept circling back to Mia's laughter and the stylist's assistant.
The jealousy returned for a moment, and she glanced sideways at Lexie, feeling so confused that she shoved a hand into her hair and pulled until the sting against her scalp made her exhale hard and loosen up.