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Fuck People Magazine
We made quite a strange group,making our way through the airport. In the front was Rick, six foot two, a hulk of thick muscle and pure intimidation. In his black pants, black collarless shirt, and deceivingly formal shoes, which were as athletic and grippy as a pair of Jordans, he moved through a crowd like Moses parting the Red Sea. Seriously. People just got out of his way. Then, they stopped and stared at the rest of us, hollering and waving when they spotted me.
One of the world’s biggest pop acts, I was always right behind Rick as we paraded through airports. Five foot one and just breaking the hundred-pound mark, I somewhat approached average height in my high platform heels. My tight miniskirt created the illusion of longer legs, and the cropped top I wore helped me look curvier than I was.
Directly behind me was Seth. A former Marine, his dark skin and short haircut made him look nearly bald. He was dressed like Rick, although his shorter stature made him seem wider, and actually even more intimidating. Or maybe it was his eyes, which could pierce you like daggers.
Pulling up the rear were Oliver and his assistant, who had my bags. Oliver wasn’t always in the back, but usually buzzed around our little pod like a mosquito, scrolling through and talking on his phone at the same time.
“Okay, Lace, so tomorrow we’ve got that interview with People, and—”
“Cancel it,” I said to Oliver as we strode past the restrooms. I would have loved a pit stop since I almost never went to the bathroom on a plane—something about not wanting to die with my pants around my ankles—but the airport ladies room was pretty much out of the question, too. I’d learned back when my first album dropped that some people didn’t obey the rule of ‘don’t talk to a woman getting ready to pee.’ A decade later, I had an iron-clad bladder that let me deal with it. Didn’t do much to improve my mood, not with Oliver’s prattling. “Fuck People.”
“Lacey, they’re—”
“Oliver,” I said, stopping. Seth immediately stopped as well, his eyes scanning the relatively quiet arrival hallway while Rick went to check the doorway to the baggage claim, where the press were already probably waiting. Fucking paparazzi.
“I’m not talking to anyone tomorrow. Now if People wants to have their cover story for their issue, they can send their cotton candy reporter and her cotton candy questions in two days. Besides, I’m in serious fucking need of a facial and manicure before I face the photogs like that.”
Oliver stammered, but finally nodded. I was a shit to him, but the truth was he knew me like almost no one else in the world did. And he knew I adored him. I was just lousy at showing it.
He started typing into his phone again. “Okay. I’ll tell them your voice is roasted after this leg of the tour, and that your throat is killing you. They’ll buy that.”
“Fine,” I snipped, moving on.
Lucky for all of us, our bags had been picked up and packed into the back of the limo before we even arrived at the curb, where Rick secured the area while the third member of my inner security team, Parker, opened the car door for me and waited.
“Miss Connor,” he said with a nod of his head. I was in first, then Oliver, his assistant, and finally Rick. Seth would sit up front with Parker.
“Please buckle up, Miss Connor,” Rick said, settling in. Reaching over, he opened the locked case that was waiting for him, removing the Glock pistol that he carried with him whenever he wasn’t on an aircraft. The flat black device scared me, because it wasn’t a toy or a prop. It was real… and apparently, necessary to keep me alive.
“Yup, got it,” I grumbled, reaching over my shoulder to get the strap and buckle in. When the latch clicked, I glared at Rick. “Can you take me home now?”
He nodded, and moments later entered the freeway only to land in horrendous traffic. I leaned my head back on the seat back, exhausted. I didn’t mean to snap at any of them. I knew they were just doing their jobs.
It was just that I was so tired… and other things.
I closed my eyes and tried not to think of how badly I needed to pee.
* * *
