Thankfully, Jordan stayed where he was, but her heart raced in her chest.
Backstage at a major fashion show was organized chaos. People were everywhere. Models, stylists, makeup artists, designers, photographers, media. All crammed into one confined space.
Part of her was as used to it as being at a family dinner at her mother’s house. But the part still shaken by her stalker was struggling to adjust.
“Ladies,” the familiar voice bled through the noise. “Look at you two gorgeous bitches.” Landon appeared next to Nikki.
His coppery hair was shaggier than when Vanessa had last seen him, but his eyes still sparkled with good humor behind his thick-framed glasses.
“Landon? I didn’t know you’d be here,” Nikki exclaimed as they air kissed.
“Neither did I. A photographer got sick, and I’m the replacement.” He leaned in and kissed the space beside Vanessa’s cheek. “Good to see you back in the saddle, V. How does it feel?”
With a loud exhale that sounded both annoyed and exasperated, the makeup artist stood back. “You’re finished,”she announced. “Move there for your bronzer.” She pointed to the chair beside hers, then turned to Nikki. “You’re next, but for the love of God, can we keep the chatter to a minimum? The show starts in forty-five, and I still have five models to get through.”
Landon raised his palms in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m out.” He lifted the camera around his neck. “One quick shot of these two beauties and you won’t see me again.”
Nikki leaned against Vanessa’s shoulder as the camera flashed, and maybe it was because this was Landon, or maybe it was the excitement starting to take over, but this time she didn’t flinch at all.
CHAPTER FIFTY
It was a mayhem he’d never known. People shouting orders, half-naked models strutting around side-eyeing him like he was candy, cameras flashing all over the damn place, and not a single security person who looked like they knew how to use a gun if they needed to.
The security personnel he spotted near the backstage entrance were only there to check passes and linger by the access points.
There were a pair of asset protection guards present for the jewelry on site, who looked equally useless, and another private security personnel for a high-profile model. That was it.
Someone with a few skills and the right weapons could stage a hostile takeover.
Jordan himself had strode into the space, three weapons strapped to his body, with no hassle. It was a fucking security nightmare, and his anxiety was through the roof.
“It’s pathetic out here,” Dex’s voice crackled through the earpiece. “Either that, or prison really skewed our expectationsfor security.” He was patrolling the rest of the gallery. “The plainclothes guys couldn’t be more obvious if they were driving an undercover police cruiser. I picked out each one before I finished a full rotation.”
“It’s no better back here,” Jordan muttered. “I’d be surprised if any of the suits knew the difference between their dicks and their guns.”
Dex chuckled. “Guess that’s something else you only learn in the slammer. How to watch our backs.”
“Fifteen minutes until lights!” someone shouted.
A young woman in a purple pantsuit holding a clipboard appeared in front of him. She barely reached his armpit, but her expression said she didn’t care. “Sir, I need you to leave backstage. They’re lining up the models and clearing the space.”
This had been the agreement, but he didn’t like it. “I can make myself scarce.” He glanced at the name on her identity lanyard and forced a smile. “Kennedy.”
“I’m sorry,” she said firmly. “You’ll have to go. You can return after the show to escort Ms. Barone out of the area. But you’re not cleared to be here during the show.”
He bit back a growl. He knew the rules and intimidation tactics weren’t his style, so he nodded and made his way to Vanessa.
“They’re kicking me out,” he informed her.
She patted his chest. “Poor, Zeus. How will you survive without me for an hour?” Her robe slipped, exposing a smooth shoulder.
He straightened and tried to relax his jaw. “Are you not wearing anything under that?”
She glanced down. “Not yet, I’m going to wardrobe next.”
Wardrobe was a rack of clothes at the far end of the room, where models changed in the open. The fashion world was a different fucking planet.
“I’m going out front. Dex and I will have eyes on you the whole time you’re on stage. After the show, I’ll come get you.”
