Page 14 of Rebooting Conor Flynn

The song ended, and Conor backed away from Ashley as if she had a communicable disease and just spit on him. Hardly the vibe of the reunited couple.

He waved to the crowd, pointed to a couple of lucky girls, and flashed five fingers and then two fingers in the Five2Go sign. Predictably, the audience went wild.

The gesture sidelined Ashley, whose own smile morphed into a rictus grin, as she crossed her arms and gave Conor a death stare. Didn’t matter. Nobody was paying any attention to Ashley Bennett—and that meant trouble.

Hayley and Calvin bounded to the stage, and the lights indicated the show had gone to commercial break. Hayley approached Ashley, but the popstar wasn’t having it. She swept off the stage.

Hayley pivoted to Conor, but with a final wave to his fans, he followed Ashley, hopping off the last step.

With a shrug to Hayley, I scurried after my charges like a mother hen chasing her chicks—angry chicks. Before I even got to the green room, I heard their raised voices echo down the hallway.

I burst into the room to find the two of them jabbing fingers at each other. Then the fingers turned to me, as did their ire.

“You set me up.” Conor’s eyes blazed like blue fire. “You knew I’d never agree to this gig if I had any idea I’d be stuck lip-synching.”

I raised my hands and waved them in front of my face. “I swear. The lip synching was last minute. The way AM LA presented it to me was each of you performing one of your solos live. They had to change because...”

I didn’t want to attack my own client, but the second Ashley didn’t show up on time, the show had to revise everything.

Conor ran a hand through his hair. “Because Ashley was late. Is this the level of professionalism I can expect from you on this tour?”

“Me?” Ashley patted her ample chest. “You out there reliving your boyband days is hardly pro behavior. Is that all you got, Flynn?”

“No. I have a voice that still works, and I want to use it. I saw you whispering to the band and that producer.” Conor smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand. “You requested it, didn’t you? You never had any intention of singing live, so you sabotaged me when the show switched to the duet. That’s probably why you swanned in here late.”

I cleared my throat. The tour hadn’t even started yet, and they were clawing at each other. Was this an enemies-to-lovers thing? Was this renewed passion masquerading as hate?

“Talk about sabotage. Do not re-visit your glory days on my back.” Ashley tossed her head. “If I hear Five2Go one more time, I’m gonna hurl.”

Conor snorted. “Do it. Nobody would be able to distinguish it from your singing.”

Ah, no. This was hate masquerading as hate.

“Time out.” I crossed my arms at the wrists like a referee—felt like one minus the striped shirt. “Nobody is sabotaging anyone here.”

They both swiveled back to me, and I used my clipboard to deflect their anger coming at me in waves.

“How does it feel to have the first kick-off event end in a shitshow, Noelle?” Ashley adjusted her boobs and grabbed her bag. “I’m outta here. I need to report back to Orlando.”

She brushed past me on her way to the door, her threat hanging in the air, and all I did was open my mouth in a silent scream. Dina never would’ve let her leave like that, especially because a report to Orlando meant a blackmark next to my name.

I sank to the arm of the loveseat, and Conor materialized beside me, putting his hand on my shoulder.

“It wasn’t that bad. I don’t think anyone in the audience even realized we weren’t singing live, and Hayley and Calvin didn’t have much time to interview us, anyway. Would’ve only been a few words.” When I didn’t respond, he squeezed my shoulder. “Hey, the fans went crazy. I think that’s a good launch for the tour.”

I shrugged his hand off me. “Maybe the whole thing could’ve been salvaged if you hadn’t stolen the spotlight from Ashley with your Five2...antics.”

“Antics?” He threw his hands in the air. “After being forced to mouth my own words to a song I co-wrote, I had to reclaim my...”

“Dignity?” I pushed up from the arm of the loveseat and paced to the door Ashley had slammed behind her. “You talk about professionalism—it would’ve been more professional of you not to throw your popularity in Ashley’s face. You two are supposed to be rekindling your romance on this tour, generating some buzz.”

“You don’t think the music is enough to create excitement?”

“No.” I leaned in and picked an imaginary speck of lint from his sleeve to soften the negative. “I think the music plus the illusion of unresolved sexual tension are enough to create excitement. Right now, the only unresolved tension between the two of you is who’s gonna lunge first.”

Conor opened his mouth.

I pointed my clipboard at him. “Don’t. I’m not Ashley. I didn’t do you wrong.”