“Oh. My. God. Are you Dove fromDove & the Valor?!” a young girl who looks like she’s in her teens squeals loudly as soon as we land in LAX.
Dove nods politely while the girl jumps up and down, shrieking with excitement and drawing attention our way. She asks for a signature and a photo, setting off a ripple effect that seems to spread through the entire airport filled with fans.
"Guess LA doesn't respect your privacy like Lonestar Junction does," I say, wrapping an arm protectively around her shoulders as I try to move her forward through the crowd. She winks and smiles before signing another young girl's luggage with her signature nickname and I release her, taking my position in the background.
After close to an hour of slow movement, having stopped for either a photo, signature or a round with the paparazzi that likes to hang out in baggage claim, we finally make it to the private van in the Arrivals section along with the rest of her security detail team.
“You don't want to fly private to avoid that?” I ask, sliding into the seat next to her.
She smiles and shakes her head, “The band has had rapid success over the past five years, but things are really just starting to take off for us, and my fan base is growing. I like to stay close to them and as down to earth as possible. Plus, flying private is a waste of money and gas.”
I take her hand and squeeze it. I wondered if any of her exes had felt intimated by her rising star and the success that she carries with her. I was just witnessing it for the first time and fascinated by it all. She’d always been cool to me but seeing her thrive asDove the Rockstarmade me fall for her even harder. I felt like I was right where I belonged; by her side while witnessing her live out her dreams.
It seems her fan base is mostly younger women, which makes sense given what she’d shared with me last night about the theme of her songs. Ballads around female empowerment and independence resonated deeply within them but there was something for everyone. I was proud of the role model she was for these young women who looked up to her and didn't want to tarnish that image by being seen with her in public yet, so I tried to hang back while we navigated the bustling airport, and she interacted with her fans.
“Things are changing, though,” she shares as soon as the van pulls away from the curb, “it seems like I’m a drawing an older demographic at my more recent concerts. Men and women.”
“Always good to expand, right?”
She nods and smiles as she continues to gaze out the window. Though I wasn't thrilled about being back in the city, I worked to hide my displeasure because I can sense that Paloma enjoys living here.
“Are you happy to be back?”
She shrugs, “You don’t see me getting attacked like that in Lonestar Junction. I like living in Los Angeles for the most part. It’s where I record. Where I feel like I really grew into becoming a woman and discovered who I was. But in other ways, I don't like it. I’ve always felt like there were two sides to me. One that belongs in Texas, and one in California and for some reason, people can’t embrace both.”
“Nothing wrong with feeling you don’t belong in one place.”
She squeezes my hand again as we pull up to the all brick studio where she said we were meeting with her manager before tonight’s concert. Any doubts I had about how much time I’d spend with her while subbing as security detail are quicklydispelled as Bex greets us impatiently when the van doors slide home.
“Let's go, Dove,” she says breathlessly as she carts Paloma out of the van and directly up the walkway to the door.
“Wait, Bex, this is my… friend who is filling in for security tonight, Dallas Golden.”
Bex gives me a quick once-over and a curt nod, making it clear that she won’t be giving her approval for Paloma to show any interest in me beyond being her bodyguard. I want to tell Paloma she’s my girlfriend, not my friend, but even though I’m a possessive, alpha male, I’d never do anything to jeopardize her image and now isn’t the time for this discussion.
“Nice to meet you, Bex” I state firmly, leveling her with a cool stare that I hope conveys my desire to protect Paloma's image while also alerting her that I don’t plan on going anywhere now that I’m back in her life.
“Yep,” she states back with a quickness before turning her attention back to Paloma and dragging her inside.
Paloma shoots me an apologetic look over her shoulder and mouthsI’ll text youwhile I hang back by the van.
“Is her manager always like that?” I ask the driver. His name tag simply states,Blade. Dove mentioned he was one of the guys on her security detail who’s been with her since she was nineteen-years-old.
Blade shrugs, “She’s got a job to do, and that’s managing Dove. And she does it well.”
I nod as I watch the two of them disappear inside. She might be managing her career well, but who was concerned about managing her heart?
“What do you usually do when you’re in a city before a concert?” I ask Blade, looking for a distraction from the jealousy flaring within me.
Blade smiles widely. “Depends on the city. But in LA, I usually go to the Museum of Death.”
"Lead the way," I gesture as I hop into the passenger seat of the van.
Three hours later, and an alarming amount of dark conversation with a guy named Blade, we’re headed back to the venue where Dove and the Valor will be performing tonight.
I’m not one to be freaked out by much, especially not by death, an inevitable part of everyone’s life and something that has surrounded me for well over a decade, but Blade enjoyed the Museum much more than I’d anticipated he would.
To top it off, he told me it was his fifteenth visit as we were leaving. There wasn’t that much to see, so I couldn’t fathom going back more than once,maybetwice to visit. The thought of a guy with a low-key obsession with death hanging around Dove, both unnerved me and oddly made me feel like she was safer than I initially thought she’d be in the hands of her security detail. The guy was obsessed with death; he probably wouldn't have any fear of dying in order to protect her.
