Chapter eight
Kelsey
“Areyoureadyforthe concert tomorrow?” I ask Lila as I pace the hallway outside the security staging room in Vancouver’s stadium. The concrete floor beneath my feet is smooth, as if the millions of steps I’ve taken the last six days have worn it down to its glossy shine.
“We are. All the teams are ready to go. Everyone’s familiar with their equipment. The team monitoring socials hasn’t noticed any unusual activity,” Lila replies.
I’m using my earbuds to talk to Lila so I can send a few last-minute messages on our team app before the meeting starts.
“We’re good,” Lila replies. “I mean, I had no doubt we’d be ready, but the whole partnership thing makes it a little less certain.”
“I know. It’s not a great situation. But we have to do it, and do it well, to make sure we win the long-term contract.”
“Sabotage,” Lila says, like it’s a valid answer to anything we’re talking about.
I laugh. “Right. I’ll just put some itch powder in a few of their matching underwear sets, and we’ll be good to go.”
“Do they really have matching underwear? Do they have the logo embroidered on them? Do you think they’re boxers or briefs?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if they did, but I hope they’d opt for screen printing rather than embroidery. Sounds scratchy on your junk.”
Lila laughs. “In your mind, is the logo just right across the front?”
“You’re thinking large across the ass?” I ask seriously. “It probably makes more sense. Larger that way.”
“Well, once you get a look at Carter’s undies, you let me know, okay?”
“I’m not going to see any Mitchell Security undies, least of all Carter’s.”
“Oh, please. That man is gorgeous, intelligent, and brooding. He hasKelsey’s typewritten all over him. Plus, you know you wouldn’t mess around with any of the guys who work for him or the contractors who work for you, so really, your options are limited.”
I have done everything in my power to put Carter Mitchell and his bedroom-dominating ways out of my mind since we got on that plane in Denver. Every morning when I’m on my run around the city, each step reverberates through my head:He. Is. Your. Coworker. Don’t. Fuck. This. Up. He. Is. Your. Coworker. Don’t. Fuck. This. Up.
It’s mostly working. Unless I happen to catch a glimpse of him as he’s working out in the hotel gym. Or when he makes highly intelligent comments during our work meetings. But it doesn’t matter. Because I’m not going to mess up this opportunity.
“You know there are hundreds of people who work on this tour, right?” I reply to Lila.
“I do. But I said what I said.”
“Regardless, the Mitchell Security team has been remarkably easy to work with. We have our final run-through this afternoon with Jaxon’s final rehearsal, but I have no doubt it’s going to go well. Which is both excellent and makes it even harder to figure out how to ensure we come out on top.”
I hear Lila moving around before a door shuts, street noises replacing the clatter of her office.
“Have you spent much time with Jaxon?” she asks.
“He made a short speech at the big dinner the first night, the one with everyone who will be traveling with the tour, but otherwise, he’s been busy. Wait. Did you just leave the office to ask me that?”
I can almost hear her shrug through the phone, and I try not to be irritated. “Izzy’s been weird this week.”
I roll my eyes at the drama of it all. “She can handle hearing his name.” I made sure she could before I started talking about the tour too much. “They were friends once. They aren’t now. Who among us hasn’t had a friend or two from high school we lost touch with?”
“I needed some fresh air anyway.”
“You’re a terrible liar. And stop coddling Iz. Convince her to come to Australia with you. It’s the trip of a lifetimeandthe concert of a lifetime. Plus, it’d be good for her to rip the Band-Aid off,” I say.
“I’ll let you or Bryn handle that conversation,” Lila replies.
“Scaredy-cat.”
