I call room service and order her some food. I hear her get in the shower. I pack up my things which aren’t much since this was a local concert. Thank God we got hotel rooms because I was not about to bring pussy home.
My phone pings with another email. I frown when I see who it’s from. Derek Bowman. He’s a private investigator I had hired a few months ago.
I open the email.
Mr. Daniels,
I have found the individual. Below is his address, if you wish to make contact. I’ve enclosed some photographs taken yesterday at his place of business. A full report will be sent later this week.
Sincerely,
Derek Bowman
I click on the photos and stare at the familiar eyes. There’s no question about it. I sigh and close the email. I’m too hungover and too tired to deal with this right now. There’s a knock at the door and I let in room service. I chug the coffee and take a bite of toast as the woman comes out of the bathroom in a towel. She joins me. We sit quietly nibbling on the food and downing an entire French press filled with coffee. She gets up and throws on her clothes from the previous day.
“Uh, so, I guess I’ll be going,” she says, biting her lip.
“Yeah, it was…fun,” I reply as she gives me an awkward smile.
“Yeah. Well, you have my number,” she mutters. I know that I’m just another notch on her celebrity belt. I’ve seen her at other concerts. I guess that’s why I knew she was safe. She wasn’t looking for anything permanent.
“Yep. See you around,” I say as she opens the door and walks out, leaving me to my thoughts and the last two pieces of bacon.
Chapter Four
Emma
Me: I have no idea what to wear. HELP!
Kate: The red one. Definitely the red one.
Me: You don’t think it looks too…you know
Kate: RED ONE
Me: OK, OK. Take a chill pill.
Kate: Kiss, kiss. I have to go.
Me: Let me guess. He’s tall, dark, and handsome and needs your attention STAT.
Kate: I’m telling Auggie you said that.
Me: (eye-rolling emoji) Whatever. Go play with your prince.
Kate: Muah
Me: Laters.
I hold my red dress up to me again and look in the mirror. It does look good with my blonde hair. I shrug and put it on along with my silver heels. I put on a simple silver diamond pendant necklace that Kate gave me for my birthday last year. I told her I couldn’t accept it and she retorted with some bullshit about how she’s a princess and what else is she supposed to give me because I have everything I need and it’s my birthstone and it would be rude to not accept a gift from a princess. I may have rolled my eyes at that one. I have on my usual tiny diamond studs that my parents gave me for high school graduation. It’s simple, but it’ll do.
There’s a knock at my door and I grab my clutch from the side table as I open it to find Will standing there. He looks great. He’s wearing a black tuxedo and his messy shoulder-length hair is pulled back in a man bun. I’m not usually a man bun type of gal, but I must admit, it looks good on him.
“Hey!” I say as I give him a quick hug before locking my door.
“You look…damn fine, Baldwin,” he manages as his eyes move from my heels up to my hair. I notice he spends more time taking in my middle section, particularly my breasts that are accentuated by the low-cut dress.
I pause. “Is the dress really OK? I don’t want to look too…uh, you know.”
He frowns. “Too what?”
I groan. Men are impossible. I should have listened to my dad and never dated one. “Too revealing?”
His gaze lands back on my chest, and I wait for his decision. He shakes his head.
“No, you’re classy as fuck. Now, come on.” He holds out his arm, and I wrap mine through it. Will’s not exactly my perfect guy, but I have to admit he looks sexy tonight. And he’s fun, so at least I won’t be standing in a corner looking awkward. I keep hearing my mother’s voice telling me to give him a chance. The memory of her telling me to hear what my ex-boyfriend had to say when I found out he was cheating was so typically her. The whole thing left me even more cautious around people, especially people I don’t know well.
Will clambers on about his current project as he drives us to the PacMutual Campus in downtown LA. I know from looking it up that the complex of historic buildings has been completely remodeled to keep their charm while making them one of the most environmental set of buildings in Southern California. The fact that Blythe chose this location tells me that she leaves no detail to chance.
There’s, of course, the quintessential red-carpet entryway into the building. That part is not my thing, but Will talks me into walking it, claiming that we can’t miss the opportunity. I try to stay calm as flashes go off in every direction. But fortunately, right as we get to the cameras, a movie star that I recognize gets out of her limo and all eyes descend upon her. One of the event photographers takes a few photos of us as we walk inside.
When we enter the event area, I’m floored at the setup. It’s amazing. There’s a wall in the back that is filled with tables for various environmental charities. There are open bars on either side of the room and the stage has large photo displays of the Green Tortuga Foundation’s latest projects, which I only recognize because I stalked the website.
A woman at the table next to the entrance asks our names and shows us to our table. I’m surprised it’s up front, as I expected some low-key table in the back of the room.
“I’ll go get us drinks,” Will declares as he looks at the line for each bar. There are also waiters strolling around with champagne and appetizers.
“I’m going to check out some of the charity tables,” I reply as I set my purse on my chair because, in this crowd, I’m not worried about it. I probably have the most empty bank account of anyone in the room aside from the waitstaff. It’s honestly a little unnerving. I’ll never get used to being around the other half.
I walk to the tables and pick up a few business cards. Most are ones that I’m already acquainted with, but at the end of the line, there’s a table that says Racing for the Rainforest. That’s a new one for me.
I pick up one of their pamphlets and examine it. A charity started by none other than Grady Daniels. It’s funded by several race car drivers. From their biographies, they all appear to have been friends with his father. I find it odd that it has to do with racing and not music since he’s currently in a band. I glance over to see that Will is still in line. I make my way back to our table. As I turn to sit, I run into someone. Their hand grabs my arm to steady me.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I mutter as I begin to look at the person who collided with me.
“I’m not,” a deep baritone voice says.
My eyes follow the voice and slowly make their way to his eyes. My breath hitches and I swear my heart goes into overdrive. His eyes are so perfectly dark blue that they appear as endless ocean pools. His beautiful face looks like it was sculpted rather than created by biology. His hair a little shaggy swings over his left eye as he leans his head to the side, surveying me in a way that has me blushing.
And then it hits me like a ton of bricks. This perfect male specimen is none other than Grady Daniels. Blythe’s son and lead singer of the band Monumental Mistake. I’ve seen him on stage, but never this close.