“She’s a star,” Tyler whispered into her sister’s ear. “I can’t wait to manage her.”
“She’s so talented,” Pamela said, nodding at Dylan. “I hear it runs in the family.”
“It was your son’s idea for Nadie to sing with him,” Dylan said, holding her belly.
Pamela stretched a smile across her face. “That’s nice to know, Dylan. Thank you for telling me.”
I could tell you a few things, Pamela.
“I’ll be right back,” Tyler said, slipping out of the suite.
She returned a few minutes later with a bag from the pro shop. “Here,” she said, handing it to Cary’s dad.
John pulled out two Jets jerseys. The names on the back readMr. KingstonandMrs. Kingston.
“Thank you!” he beamed, already tugging one over his cardigan.
Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out his wallet.
“Nope.” Tyler waved it away. “They’re from Cary.”
“We’d like to pay for them,” John said, holding firm.
Tyler shook her head. “Take it up with him.”
Pamela shrugged her jersey over her blouse. “Thank you, dear. You’ll be able to wear this one soon.” She pointed to the lettering on her back and Tyler’s face practically burst into flames. Of course she’d fantasized about one day becoming Mrs. Cary Kingston . . .
With a loud bang, the door flew open and Sebastien and Tommy barged into the suite.Why is Tommy here?She glanced at the bar and answered her own question.
“Tyler,” Sebastien seethed slowly.
The days of “Hi, doll” were long gone, and that was fine—no, preferred.
“Sebastien,” she said, returning his tone. “What’s going on with the contract?” He’d been fucking around with Yestown’s deal and she’d had enough of it. “It’s been weeks.”
“It’ll take as long as it takes.” He turned his head. “Why is Bert here?”
“Cary invited my family.”
He grunted, stroking his beard. “Who was that singing with Cary?”
“A local girl.” She told him the truth without revealing her relationship to Nadie. “You might want to say hi to Pamela and John.” She pointed at them, diverting his attention. “They’re over there.”
“Yeah, I think I will.” He waved at Cary’s parents and sauntered toward them, presumably with puckered lips to kiss their asses.
“Tyler,” Tommy said, and her jaw tightened. “I didn’t realize you were such a fucking groupie.” He straightened his tie and gave her a smart-ass grin.
“Fuck off, Tommy.” And he did.
The next people to arrive were Kim and Vegas but they split apart instantly, neither willing to risk Sebastien seeing them together.
“What’s with this?” Tyler yanked on the hem of Kim’s Jets jersey.
“Fuck it,” Kim said. “I’m done with Vancouver.”
“It’s about time.” Tyler watched her grab a beer. “Where’s Cary?”
“Still signing autographs.”
