Stepping onto the elevator, she had to accept she was embarrassed. Whenever she fantasized about Cassian, it was always about him being in the audience when she performed at some big venue, like Madison Square Garden. Her favorite image, though, was of him with a beer belly and stained T-shirt as he sat on his couch and watched her win a Grammy.
She’d wanted him to eat his heart out. Instead, he was at the top of his career, while she was this platinum-haired robot who wore stupid plaid skirts and knee socks.
Whatever.
Shake it off.
You’re here to bring people a moment of joy. Her embarrassment about being a Lollipop meant nothing in the context of this tour.
As soon as she entered the restaurant, the hostess took her to a private room. There were only fifteen people in their group, but she walked into a buzz of conversation and laughter. Her focus went immediately to Cassian, who entertained the people seated around him. She’d bet they’d tripped over each other to score the chair next to him. He was the life of every party.
Beside him, his girlfriend beamed—her hair all tousled and sexy, her mouth bright red, and her cleavage bursting out of a skintight black dress.
A rush of mortification traveled up her spine and flared around her shoulders. In comparison, she looked plain and dull. Before she could bolt, though, she scurried toward the one empty seat left at the table, in a scramble to get there before he noticed her.
Why hadn’t she spent an extra five minutes to put on a little make-up? Do something with her hair?
Fortunately, she got to sit next to the musician. “Hey.”
“Looks like you got in a shower.”
“Oh.” Her hand went to her damp hair, and her cheeks went hot.
His smile flat-lined. “See, now, this is why I’ve got three divorces behind me. I always manage to step in it.”
“No, it’s…” She stuttered out a laugh. “I’m feeling insecure, because I came down here with wet hair and no make-up and...” She gestured to the blonde and the glamorous actor across the table.
“Can I tell you something—if you promise not to take this the wrong way?”
“Of course.”
“I swear I’m not hittin’ on you, but you’re ten times more beautiful than both of them. There’s something about a woman without her face all done up that makes her more real, more approachable. I mean, you’re a Lollipop, so I’ve seen you with make-up, but this…right here? They’ve got nothin’ on you.”
Her heart warmed with affection. “Thank you for saying that. I needed to hear it.”
Someone howled with laughter, and Grant’s attention went over to Cassian.
Cassian…God, the man just glowed. It was so much more than his handsome features or muscular body. It was his charisma. He gave off an aura of competence, of being the best in the world.
And everyone wanted to be around a winner.
A fierce longing howled through her. I want to be a winner.
“Oh, good you’re here.” Kevin swept by behind her, briefly cupping her shoulder. “We can get started.”
“Sorry about that.”
“No problem.” He continued on to the head of the table.
Cassian still hadn’t noticed her, so that meant she had a few moments to pull herself together. She appreciated what Grant said more than he’d ever know.
Mostly, she needed to remember she was on her own path, tending her own garden, and she wasn’t going to get derailed by a man who lacked character. Regardless of his looks or charm or stats on the football field.
Exactly. ‘Nuff said.
“Welcome, everyone,” Kevin said. “I want to thank each and every one of you for taking time out of your schedules to work with the Dreams Come True Foundation. The families are so excited to see you, and I know we’re going to have an amazing week. Why don’t you go ahead and grab some food from the buffet? While you’re eating, I’ll go over the schedule.”
While the rest of the table got up, Cassian’s group lingered, riveted by his story, so she took the opportunity to grab a plate. Only when Grant came up beside her did she realize how panicked she felt. Because she’d run from the table like a freak.
You have to stop this.
You’re giving him all your power.
And for what? Something that happened when you were seventeen?
She smiled at Grant. “I’m not shy when it comes to filling my belly.”
He held up both hands, like I’ll get out of your way, and laughed.
Under the bright orange heat lamps, she contemplated the chicken and something that looked like fish covered in brown sauce.
“Times like this, I stick with the vegetables.” Grant tipped his chin to the other end of the table. “Salad, potatoes.”
“Wise words from a man who’s spent half his life on the road.”
His grin cracked a well-lined face. “You’ve had a few tours of your own. I’m sure you learned your own lessons on food service.”
“I learned you could demand pink llamas in your dressing room, and half the venues would oblige.”
“You don’t strike me as the kind to demand pink M&Ms, let alone llamas.”
“No, I’m not too particular.” They made their way down the line. “I’ve only been on two tours, and I can tell you they weren’t anything like what I expected.”
“They take it out of your hide, that’s for sure.” Grant helped himself to a pile of roasted vegetables.
Cassian and his entourage stood directly across from her. He said something quietly to the person next to him, and the guy’s eyebrows shot up.
“Are you serious?” the man said.
Cassian’s girlfriend rolled her eyes and said, “Don’t get him started.”
“No, tell me,” the guy said. “I always wanted to know if that was real or not.”
“Pretty much every story you’ve ever heard about DeBrowski’s based on some kind of truth,” Cassian said.
“But is that why they traded him?” someone asked.
Cassian’s girlfriend leaned forward, her large breasts pressing on his arm. “You’re going to have to get him a whole lot drunker, if you’re going to get those kinds of answers.”
“Drunker?” Cassian said. “I haven’t even had a beer. Speaking of which, what do you want to drink? Wine, beer?”
“I’d love some wine,” his girlfriend said.
“Hang on.” Cassian stepped away from the table, looking around. When he spotted a server he said, “I’d like to buy some wine for the table.”
Right. Always the big spender. Renting yachts and jets, buying two-hundred-thousand-dollar cars. He was such a cliché.
The server looked anxious to be in his presence, but whatever he said made her grin. Slowly, she relaxed until she was looking up at him as if he were the hottest boy in school who’d finally noticed her.
Anger rushed through her. “What kind of jerk flirts in front of his girlfriend?”
Oh, shit. She shouldn’t have said that.
Grant chuckled. “Ah, don’t be so hard on him. I used to be the same way. Trust me, it’s nothing more than a coping device.”
Her whole body went on alert, desperate to learn more. The line moved forward, and she scooped some roasted potatoes onto her plate. “Is ‘coping device’ just a euphemism for infidelity?”