Rock Bottom. Cate Masters
I’ll coordinate with the producer to film a studio session.”
Jet blinked hard, wanting to swipe Stu from his sight. His mealy-mouthed arguments, disguised in soothing tones, used to convince Jet his manager had everything under control. Now he had to wonder whether it was himself he controlled. “A studio session would be good. But a concert is what I need.” Not playing to a live audience made him jittery.
Stu raised his hands near Jet’s chest, but didn’t make contact. “For now, I need you to go back on set. All right? Stay focused, man. We all have obligations. This isn’t forever.”
“Good thing. Or I’d take the express to visit Cobain and Hendrix.”
Stu inclined his head toward the patio. “They’re waiting.”
A sharp inhale fortified him. With a nod, he followed Stu. When Billie was nowhere in sight, relief washed over him. He couldn’t take any more from her right now.
* * * *
Over the next week and a half, Billie did her best to remain invisible. While her blog posts enjoyed insane popularity with the public, no one in the compound shared the sentiment. Except Justin. Every morning, he’d say, “Excellent post,” even if all she’d done was upload photos–a practice that seemed safest. In her cottage at night, she closed the blinds and bolted the door.
Jet appeared to actively avoid her. The few times their glances met by accident, he immediately frowned, as if the experience pained him, as if the reminder reopened the gash made by her cutting remarks. Shame burned deep, but she couldn’t approach him.
Everett ignored her complaints, downplayed her worries about revenge. “You only imagine they’re angry. They exist for drama, babe. Without the blog, the show might have tanked by now.”
Her hopes sank as dread filled her. “Are you serious?”
“Absolutely.”
Then she’d been perpetuating her own purgatory. Time to get back into real writing. “Maybe we should focus on articles instead. From Philly.”
“No way. You have a huge following. You’re hot.”
How many times she’d longed to hear him exclaim those words with such enthusiasm, but face-to-face. “I don’t want to be hot.” Never had she imagined uttering those words. “I want to come home.”
Issuing a noise meant to indicate he was thinking when all the while she knew he intended her to stay indefinitely, he said, finally, “Not yet.”
“Where are my other assignments?” Concentrating solely on this bunch of loonies could prove contagious.
“For now, focus on Rock Bottom.” Tapping noises. He must be either drumming his fingers, or his pen. Which meant his patience had nearly run out.
Well, so was hers. “You promised–”
“Gotta go, babe. Keep up the great work.” Then silence.
Groaning, she flipped shut her cell. “Damn jerk.”
“Whoa, careful. My ears.”
Glancing up, she realized she’d wandered to the side of the pool house. Justin smiled as he stepped outside.
“Sorry.” She held her head and blew through her teeth.
“Have you never heard sarcasm before?” Cocking his head, he arched a brow. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Oh, my stupid boss.” With a wave, she turned. No need to elaborate.
“Yeah, bosses can be a drag.”
“I’m beginning to feel as if I checked into the Hotel California.” Like the Eagles song, she’d checked in, apparently for good.
Bending to adjust a boom mic pole, Justin grinned up at her. “This place can get a little small.”
“I really need to get out of here.” She thought out loud. “Does any place rent scooters? Maybe I’ll just call a cab.”
“If you can wait until later, I’ll take you.”
Her heart leapt. She stepped closer. “Where?”
“Where do you want to go?”
His tantalizing tone inspired giddiness, made her feel lighter. She could escape this prison tonight. “Ooo. The Getty Villa’s supposed to have wonderful ancient artifacts. Or Malibu Wines…”
Wincing, Justin clucked his tongue. “I’m talking late late. Like after midnight. We usually keep filming until then.”
Her light feeling deflated. “Oh.”
“You need to stop getting up so early. Stay up with the night owls.”
No thanks. Their screeching kept her up some nights. “I’m hoping I’ll be pulled from this assignment soon.”
Disappointment showed in his frown. “Oh no. We’d miss you.”
“You’d be the only one.”
He bumped his shoulder against hers. “Hey, cheer up. The big day will be here soon.”
“For?”
“One of them gets the ax.” He mimed slitting his throat.
“One less bimbo.” More than one would suit her. The quicker they went, the quicker she could leave.
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