“But…”
“Are you going to get some air freshener for the smell of sex in the air as well?” I ask, and I didn’t deliberately say it to make her blush, but I’m glad it has that effect.
“Can we turn around now?” Martin asks, impatience thick in his voice.
“Sure,” I say after Cassie gives me a nod. She’s on the opposite side of the bed, which feels irrationally far away.
“So, we’ve got a situation,” Martin says, hands held out with fingers tense and curled.
“How bad?” Cassie asks as she sits on the bed. I should be next to her, but I don’t move other than to fold my arms.
“I got a call from a mate of mine,” Kevin says. “A photographer. He got news that there are some pics in today’s tabloids over in London.”
“What kind of pics?” I ask.
“Of Cassie.” He nods at her, and in a heartbeat, I’m climbing over the bed and sitting next to her, her hand in mine.
“Of me doing what?” she asks, her voice high.
“Of you,” Martin says, looking at Cassie and then at me, “arriving here last night.”
“In Amsterdam?”
“Yes, specifically, at this hotel.”
“Oh,” I say, and I only realise my fingers are gripping Cassie’s uncomfortably tightly when she wriggles them around, so I loosen up.
“So what?” Cassie says, which stuns me a little. “I’m in Amsterdam and staying in a fancy hotel. What’s the big deal?”
“They know that Femme Fatale are also staying here,” Kevin explains. “And that much has apparently already been printed.”
I take a deep breath, although it hurts a little to do so. Nobody says anything for many long seconds.
“I’m sorry, I don’t see the problem,” Cassie says.
“They’re worried people will realise you’re here to see me,” I explain.
“We haven’t seen the exact copy yet, but, yes, that’s our fear,” Martin says, bringing a hand up and running it through his hair. It makes his robe open further, but he doesn’t seem to notice or care.
“So, I’ve come to visit my friend while she’s on tour?” Cassie tries.
Kevin shakes his head. “You’re not friends,” he states. “You may have recorded that song together, but everyone knows you’re arch-rivals. The fact that Pia was nowhere to be seen during the press tour for ‘What I Want’ only goes to confirm that.”
I resist the urge to snarl back as Kevin glares at me.
“That was months ago,” Cassie offers.
“You were number one for six weeks,” Martin states. “Everyone chants for that song at both Femme Fatale and Evergreene concerts.They’re obsessed with the idea of you as rivals, literally fighting over the same man. Not to mention the fight at the release party. That didn’t exactly make people think you’d kissed and made up … even though that’s clearly what has happened here.”
Martin’s hand rubs his face before heading into his hair again. He tugs on a clump of it.
“Mart.” Kevin brings Martin’s arm back down and holds his hand. “It’s okay. We can get ahead of this.”
“How?” Martin demands, exasperation in every line of his frown.
“Well, for one thing…” Kevin turns to us but keeps Martin’s hand in his. “You are not to leave this hotel together. Do not open the door to anyone but us. And Cassie, when it’s time to leave, we’ll use a service exit. I’ll also try to contact the airport and get us fast-tracked through there so no eyes are on us. And neither of you are to talk about this with anyone.”
“Yes, even the other guys.” Martin nods at me. “Don’t talk to them about this.”
