Page 72 of Wrecked

Cooper narrows his eyes on me. “I’ll give you something toyes, sirover. How about right over my knee?”

“Sam, is that you?” It’s Beth.

I shovel the rest of my scrambled eggs and toast into my mouth. “Yeah, boss. I’m here. Ready when you are.”

As we’re heading down in the elevator, Beth notices the fresh mark on my neck.

When I notice her staring at it, I cover it with my fingers. “Don’t ask, okay?”

She frowns at the defensive tone of my voice. “Okay.”

When she reaches for my hand, I squeeze hers gently. I try to smile, but I just don’t have it in me right now. I consider Beth one of my best friends now, and I can’t even tell her about the guy who gave me this hickey.

She seems to realize something’s bothering me because she holds my hand all the way down to the ground floor.

* * *

All morning, Beth seems kind of down. I imagine all the shit with Luciana is really getting to her. I don’t blame her.

At noon, Erin waltzes into the office, a welcome distraction. “Who wants pizza for lunch? Let’s walk over to Gino’s.”

I raise my hand. “Pizza? Hell yes. Count me in if the boss lady’s going.”

Beth laughs. “I think we’re a go then, because I’m definitely in.”

Just as we’re about to head out of the office, we hear a loud commotion coming from downstairs. At first, I think maybe Luciana the Skank is back, making trouble and pissing off the security staff.

The noise from below continues to grow and soon it’s punctuated by excited squeals.

Mack pops his head in the office. “Celebrity in the house,” he says with a grin.

We all race to the stairs and look down to see a huge crowd gathering just inside the main doors. Even though he’s wearing dark sunglasses, there’s no mistaking the popular rock star with his dark manbun tucked up underneath a baseball cap. He’s wearing seriously ripped jeans, a graphic tee, and his signature black leather jacket. With his dark hair and trim dark beard, the guy’s hot as hell. The small horde of screaming girls surrounding him agree.

Jonah Locke is at the center of all the attention, signing things for his fans—everything from books to newspapers to girls’ hands to the shirts on their backs.

Lia—now his full-time bodyguard—is at his side, rocking a pair of aviator sunglasses, khaki cargo pants, a black tank top, and chunky black boots. She may be tiny, but she’s apowerhouse. Without too much effort, she manages to keep the crowd at bay.

Beth waves down at Lia, who waves back.

I watch over Beth’s shoulder as she texts Lia.

Beth: We’re going to Gino’s for lunch. Come with?

Lia manages to do crowd control and send a text message at the same time.

Lia: God, yes. I’m starving. We’ll meet you there.

Lia whispers in Jonah’s ear. He nods, and then they made a quick getaway out the front doors, clearing the way for the rest of us.

We meet up with them at Gino’s restaurant. Thanks to Jonah’s presence, they’ve already managed to get us a table in a small private dining room. Also thanks to Jonah, we’re being waited on hand and foot by two smitten female servers who are practically tripping over themselves to be helpful.

We order a ton of food and drinks. It’s become quite an impromptu party. Beth tries to call Shane, to invite him to join us, but unfortunately he’s not answering his phone. When she calls his admin, Diane, to ask where he is, all Diane can say is that he’s out of the office. She doesn’t know where he went.

“That’s weird,” Beth says to me. “Diane always knows where he is. His phone must be turned off because my calls keep going straight to voicemail.”

“Maybe he’s in a meeting,” I say. “Don’t worry. He’ll call you the first chance he gets.”

As we sit around the table eating and drinking, Jonah tells stories about some of the crazy things fans have done. I’m asked to tell—again—the story of how my stupid parachute malfunctioned, nearly killing me. “I owe my life to a maple tree. If that tree hadn’t been there to break my fall, I wouldn’t be sitting here eating pizza with you all.”