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“Why did you come out of the front doors?” he shouts as he places himself between the press pack and me.
“Because I didn't fucking think about taking the back way!” Jax shouts back.
A large, black Audi is pulled up on the side of the road and he shepherds us over. “Get in!”
Shaking, I grab the handle as Jax stands behind. We barely have time to put the seatbelt on before the guy hits the accelerator and we speed away into the Paris traffic.
Stunned by the reaction, I stare forward, chest tight with panic. “Holy crap, Jax. Does that happen every time you go out in public?”
He rakes fingers through his fringe. “Not as bad as that. They weren’t at the bar this afternoon when I was with the other guys.”
“Everybody knows you and Blue Phoenix were there tonight!” calls the man from the driver’s seat. “They were waiting for all and any of you dumb enough to step outside the front.”
Jax takes my damp palm. “Are you okay?”
“This evening has not turned out the way I expected. They knew my name already!”
As we head back to the hotel, I take calming breaths, remain cuddled against Jax, and consider what the hell happens next.
24
TEGAN
The illuminated forecourt of the hotel should be a welcome respite but there're group of fans and photographers sitting on the low wall outside. The man, who has introduced himself as Jean-Marc, swears and manoeuvres the car through a side street and around the back of the imposing building.
“Have you been doing something you shouldn’t?” he asks. “They’re out in force!”
A couple of skilled paparazzi have found their way through the metal security gates to the back entrance to the hotel and step forward with large cameras and smug looks as the car approaches.
“For fuck’s sake!” snaps Jax.
I don’t want to leave the safety of the car but the two men reach the car as it stops. No, I have to. We jump from the car and take the short walk to the building’s back doors, again partially shielded by Jean-Marc. When we enter the sanctuary of the hotel, I slump onto the nearest chair.
“This is crazy, Jax!” I say, short of breath.
Jax stares into space, hands in his jacket pockets. He turns bewildered eyes to me. “How the hell did that happen?”
A young guy in the smart blue and black hotel uniform stops as he passes and looks at us.
I stand. “Jax, take me back to my room.”
My phone beeps an alert again. I've ignored them, not wanting to be caught up in anything until I return to the hotel, but this time check the phone. Twenty alerts display on the screen and Jax's phone rings too.
“What? Yeah,” he says as he answers. “I'm fucking aware of that!”
A couple pass, and the blonde haired woman glances at us over her shoulder. I'm not staying around any longer. Ignoring Jax's conversation, I stride across the shining marble floor and hit the button on each one of the three elevators.
Jax joins me and continues his phone conversation. “We didn't think. Stop giving me shit, Riley!” He pauses. “Tomorrow. I'm done for tonight.”
He cancels the call and taps the phone against his chin. “What's wrong?” I ask.
“Did you ever want to post something that goes viral?”
“What do you mean? We only uploaded the picture an hour ago! Surely you're not that famous.”
He frowns at me. “Slow news week in the celebrity world, I guess.”
The top hotel floor is booked exclusively for the key members of the tour entourage. I welcome the peace and security of the hallway, but that isn’t enough for me to feel safe. I can't get to my suite fast enough.
