He glances behind me, probably seeing if we’re alone. He doesn’t like the fact that he can’t say whatever he wants if the guys are within earshot.
“I heard about your friend drugging Travis. That’s pretty dangerous, don’t you think?”
I stiffen. “Excuse me?”
“As manager, and the person who has the guy’s best interest in mind, I think you need to separate your personal life from your job. You’re supposed to be a professional, aren’t you? I mean, I knowhowyou got the job, but still, chasing random guys—not professional. Maybe you should keep your legs closed until this tour is over. That too much to ask?”
My nostrils flare.Hehas the guy’s best interest at heart? Bullshit. He only cares about the money they make for him. I grind my teeth together, and a load of horrible remarks claw at my throat. I swallow them down. I won’t stoop to his level. Even though I really want to step on his dick with a spiked heel.
“Nothing to say for yourself?” he pushes when I stare at him, refusing to respond.
“I think when hell freezes over, I’ll listen to you.”
He laughs. “Well, we’ll see what Tanner has to say about it. I think you’ll find he’s going to agree with me. So I’d be careful, Ellie, before you find yourself unemployed and on thenext flight home.” He turns, walking away, and I glare at his back, sending every bit of bad energy I have his way. Hoping he’ll trip and break his fucking nose or something. Once I realize that’s not going to happen, I continue back to my hotel.
I’m digging through my outfits for something to wear when my phone starts ringing.Shit.It’s Jordan. Again.
I’ve dodged all of his texts asking if I’m okay. I feel kind of bad ignoring him. I’m not fully convinced he or his friend had anything to do with Travis’s illness the other night, but still. It’s not like I’ll ever see him again.
I settle on a pair of black slacks and a red button-up with nude pumps. I throw my hair in a claw clip, grab my bag of supplies, and slip out. My job should be easy—set the phone on a tripod and hit record, while silently praying the guys keep their composure for a half hour.
They’re starting to wear thin. I see it more and more each day. They’re tired. Hell, I’m tired. Being away from home is mentally draining, and I’m not sure I want to do this again. Not that I think they’ll ask, but after this tour, I seriously need to reevaluate my life. I thought I landed my dream job, but working with Travis is becoming more challenging. Maybe everyone was right to begin with. I thought we could be friends, but the lines are starting to blur again.
“Hey, Ellie.”
I finish situating the phone on the tripod, then turn around and find Liam. “Hey.”
He shifts, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, can we talk?”
“Sure.” I walk to the corner of the room that’s slowly starting to fill with media people. “What’s up?” I haven’t talked to him since he and Travis left my room.
“I wanted to check on you. I know the other night was scary for you.” His voice grows quiet, and he gives me a sympathetic smile.
“I’m fine,” I assure him.
Was it scary as fuck? Yes. Am I about to let anyone know that I’ve had nightmares every night since? Hell no. I’m working on erasing the memory completely. It’s better than facing the fact that the thought of losing Travis nearly sent me into a tailspin. I don’t want to dive too deep into those feelings.
“Ok, good,” he says, sounding relieved.
“Everything’s fine,” I say dragging him into a hug and patting his back.
“Liam, come on.”
As I step back, I see Travis staring at Liam. My heart squeezes, and my blood pressure kicks up. I don’t understand how he gets to act like I don’t exist.I’mthe one who should be mad. He scared the shit out of me, and he’s not even sorry. Does he even realize? Probably not.
Half of me wants to grab him by the ear and scold him, and the other half wants to kick him in the motherfucking balls.
Liam gives me a full smile, then he and Travis disappear down the hall. I go back to setting up, then drop down in a chair with my notebook and pen. Even though I’ll have everything recorded, I want to take notes on what works and what doesn’t, for future reference.
Everything is going so wellthat I’m equal parts proud and shocked.
The questions they’re asking the guys are on par with the sample they sent me, and the guys are answering them with ease. It’s been twenty minutes, and time is almost up. I can tell they’re tired and over it, but they’re hiding it well.
“Penn, we know you have a girlfriend back home…Olivia Whittington, is that right? How is she handling the distance?” the main guy, Phillip, asks.
My eyes quickly move to Penn, gauging his reaction, but his face is completely blank. His tone is easy as he replies, “We’re great. It’s hard, but we manage.”
I smile proudly, but it quickly falls when he turns to Travis and says, “Travis, it seems like you’ve built a reputation as the playboy of the group. My sources found a video of you from a few nights ago being helped into a hotel by one of your bandmates, and what appeared to be”—he turns and points to me—“your PR manager. Bit of a wild night, was it?”
