“Why?” Hayley hugged her phone to her chest, studying his face, when loud knocks sounded on the pool house door.
“Hello? Anybody home?” A man’s voice called out.
“I’m in here, Michael,” Hayley called. She shot Bryce an icy look that froze him down to his core. He didn’t want to upset her, but he needed to do his job. He hadn’t anticipated she wouldn’t fully cooperate.
A middle-aged man with slick black hair pushed backwards entered the room, and Hayley walked over to give him a hug.
“This is my new security team,” Hayley said. “They’re just setting up. Steve, Nash, Bryce,” she said, pointing at each of them in turn. “Everyone, this is Michael.”
“Great,” Michael clapped his hands. “Linda sent me out here to talk to them about tomorrow’s show. Gather round.” He gestured the men over. “Nice to meet you, glad you’re here… Now, what do you need to do to make yourselves the least intrusive during the show?”
Nash and Steve shot disagreeable looks at Michael. “What size venue are we talking about?” Nash asked. “I need to know how many guys to bring in on this.”
“The venues always have their own security,” Hayley said. “We don’t need extra guys.”
“We’ll be the judge of that,” Steve replied, without missing a beat.
“It’s ok, sweetheart,” Michael smiled at Hayley. “You just worry about the important parts – like entertaining the crowd.”
“Venue size,” Bryce said to Michael with a demanding tone. “We need to plan our security protocols.”
Michael sighed and checked his watch. “It’s a small venue. Very intimate. Downtown Jackson. It’s a charity event for the children’s hospital. High dollar tickets, a few contest winners. Small crowd. Big spenders.”
“We’ll need an exact head count and a blueprint of the venue,” Bryce said.
Michael appeared irritated, “Sure, sure, we can get that to you.”
“Today,” Bryce added.
Hayley crossed her arms. “Are you going to give the third degree to every fan who comes in? It’s mostly teenage girls. They don’t need to be intimidated by big guys lining the stage. This isn’t a Colosseum.”
“Hayley is very protective of her fans,” Michael explained. “She likes to greet them, sign autographs.”
“Not this time,” Steve said, eyeing Nash. “Not until we plug all of the security holes around the venue.”
“My fans expect it,” Hayley objected. “That’s not negotiable.”
“Neither is your safety,” Bryce shot back. He fought to keep his face neutral, even as Hayley bit her lip in frustration, clearly wanting to argue more.
“We can talk about this later, honey,” Michael placated Hayley. “We have set lists to go over, lighting notes. Let’s leave them be. They wouldn’t understand.” He put his arm around Hayley to lead her outside.
“Just don’t pat down every person who comes in with a ticket,” Hayley maneuvered out from under Michael’s arm. “This is a concert, not the county jail.”
“I’ll pat down whoever looks suspicious,” Bryce answered, forcing his eyes to stay on her face and not travel downward, taking in the shape of her body beneath her slim-fitting dress.
Hayley bristled at him, “Whatever you do, just don’t turn this into a big issue.” She turned to go. But -
“Your phone, please,” Bryce said.
Hayley held it out to him, glaring as he took it.
Bryce held the device to his chest, watching her stalk across the patio and back into the house, Michael falling closely behind. He hadHayley Wild’sphone in his hand. He had held her hand. And even if she was now thoroughly pissed at him and probably thought he was a jerk, so be it – if it kept her safe. He watched the door to the living room slide shut, and finally exhaled. If he could just handcuff her to a chair in a room for her own good until the stalker was caught…
Who was he kidding? If he had her handcuffed in a room, his job would be the last thing on his mind. He smiled to himself, thinking of all the things he could do to her to make her forgive him, if she’d let him.
8
The Show Must Go On
