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“Sounds like your girl is just finishing up,” she said, pointing up at the sky and cocking her head to listen to the last few chords of the song. “You two have fun tonight.”
She walked away, her high heels clicking on the cement. Alaric frowned and stood his ground. The backstage crew swirled around him as the audience on the other side of the stage roared and applauded. Finally, the band began to descend down the black metal staircase behind the stage. The last to appear was Georgia herself.
She wore an emerald green jumpsuit that showed off her long, shapely legs above five-inch black stilettos. Her cheeks were flushed and her curls had gone wild. A deliriously happy smile stretched from ear to ear on her face. She had her guitar strapped across her back and was too busy hugging everyone in the crew to notice Alaric staring, slack-
jawed, at her.
“Best concert ever,” she squealed as she hugged the blonde who had been in her hotel room yesterday. Alaric thought he remembered her introducing herself as Angela. “I don’t care if it’s only a free impromptu concert in the park. The hype is so much better at these things. I’d take one of these any day over the Super Bowl halftime.”
“Sure,” Angela said, giving her a smile and rolling her eyes. “Keep saying that until you see the paycheck those stars get for rocking the Super Bowl. Then, you’ll be changing your tune.”
“Never!” Georgia draped her arm over Angela’s shoulder. “I’m happy just like this. You could taste the excitement in the air. Money can’t buy fans like that.”
Alaric took that moment to tap her on the shoulder. She turned to look at him, her eyes growing wide and round. Her gaze drifted over his slim-cut suit and down to his shiny loafers.
With a teasing smile, she looked back up at him and arched an eyebrow. “Is that what you plan on wearing to the clubs, Mr. Hammond? Seems awfully formal. Maybe we should be going to the opera, instead.”
He tugged at the collar of his shirt uncomfortably and smirked. “I left off the tie. Doesn’t that count for something?”
Her trill of a laugh sent little shock waves down his spine. She placed a hand on his shoulder and he was immediately thankful for the layers of cloth between them.
“Let me go get ready,” she said with a smile. “I’ll be back in a minute. You don’t want me looking like this.”
He watched her go, unsure his male hormones would agree with that statement.
?
Bright camera lights flashed in Georgia’s eyes as she strode toward the Red Phoenix club in the bustling center of San Francisco’s night life. She’d been here once before — with Vance, her pop-star ex-boyfriend who had a love for free drinks and pretty much any female with long legs and a willing smile.
It had taken her a long time to see through his charming facade. She’d been enamored by his growing fame and the fact that he seemed to want her, of all people. When he’d dropped her for a Russian model, she’d been blind-sighted.
But no longer. This time, she was on top and prepared. The arrangement between her and Alaric was perfect. No hearts in the mix and they both got what they wanted. After this relationship was over, she wouldn’t be left crying into her guitar strings.
Fans and paparazzi screamed out her name as they bypassed the velvet rope where people waited to get into the club. Georgia swallowed hard and grimaced, trying her best to keep her head high. She loved her music and she loved her career, but this part still didn’t settle well with her.
“Grab my arm,” Alaric whispered as he walked beside her. He offered his elbow and frowned. “It’ll help.”
“Thanks.” She timidly wrapped her hand around his arm and smiled gratefully. He must’ve sensed her nerves. It was sweet of him to shield her from the attention.
“Anything to make them believe we’re a real couple, right?” He glanced down at her, his expression all business.
“Of course.” Her heart stuttered for a beat, reprimanding her silly thoughts.
This was a business deal, after all. He wasn’t being sweet. He was hamming it up for the cameras. It made sense. But that didn’t take the sour taste of disappointment out of her mouth.
More fans screamed her name as they lingered at the club door. Angela and a few members of the crew stood behind them, eager to get inside and start dancing. One persistent camera man called out a shrill “Where’s Vance?” before they entered the cool, dark lobby. Alaric bent down to whisper in her ear as they walked forward.
“Are you going to tell me anything about this Vance?” he asked, standing altogether too close to her for comfort. “That’s not the first time I’ve heard his name.”
“And it probably won’t be the last,” Georgia sighed, pulling away just enough so that she could think clearly. “He’s my ex.”
A crease formed between his eyes. “The one who betrayed you? You told me about him during our online chats, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, that ex.” She busied herself with straightening her black lacy top to hide the emotion in her eyes. “Except, what I left out is that Vance is also an up-and-comer on the music charts. His hit, I wanna take you, just hit number one. We met on the live singing contest that catapulted my career. I thought it was love. Turns out, it was purely for publicity. He didn’t want me. He wanted the fame and to ride on my tailcoats.”
She choked off her words, unsure why she was still being so forthcoming with Alaric. They’d established that their online relationship was over. He wasn’t her confidante: he was her means to an end. She had to get that straight.
Looking up, she saw Alaric gazing at her with an impassive expression. His dark eyes searched her face, as if he were unsure how to react to her sudden burst of honesty. A shout behind them from the crew members made him jolt and he blinked hard before giving her a deep frown.
