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“Graham.”
“I mean it. You need to get rid of him.”
She looked down at her notebook. “He believed in me even when others didn’t.”
“That’s great, but you’ve elevated your career. He’s not helping you, he’s hindering you.”
The radio host came through brokenly, “Welcome back, party people, to 102.5, playin’ all the top bops and hits. What I have next up for you is Shay Baby with ‘Be My Angel,’ an oldie but a goodie. We know Shay Baby won’t change up on us. You’ll find her in Dallas for RoeFest with…”
The first chords began to play, her voice filtered in, and Shay turned off the radio. Clenching the paper tighter, she knew Graham’s words were true.
4
Shay openedher eyes just as they were parking.
“You need to eat.” Graham shut off the car.
The building outside resembled a relic of the fifties with bright shining lights, and a pink and blue exterior with a mechanical ice cream cone whirling on the roof.
“We can just take it to go,” Graham offered as he examined the inside of the diner through the window.
The diner didn’t appear crowded, but she could see him mentally calculating the threats, cameras, and phones that would be on her the moment she stepped out of the car.
“Let’s go inside. I want to stretch my legs.”
“I don’t think—”
“Nothing is going to happen,” Shay affirmed.
Graham clenched his jaw, but obeyed. Shay reached for her sunglasses and purse before stepping out into the hot Arizona heat.
They entered the diner and were welcomed with a long counter with spaced-out red stools. A box television was in the upper right corner of the room playing sports highlights. A server exited the kitchen and placed a meal in front of a customer at the counter.
“We should take the food to go,” Graham insisted again. “It’s too many people.”
“No one is staring at me.”
The place wasn’t crowded, but it wasn’t empty either. Her fans were respectful. They’d ask for a picture and move along.
“Shay—”
“How can I help you both?” the hostess asked. She didn’t appear to recognize Shay.
“Table for two,” Shay said.
The hostess led them to a booth. The cushioned seats hissed out air as they sat. Shay looked over the menu as Graham’s head stayed on a swivel.
“The western omelet sounds good,” Shay murmured.
Graham grunted.
Shay sighed and set the menu on the table. “You need to eat something and relax.”
“Anything can happen,anyonecan happen.”
“People are minding their own business and don’t know or care about who I am.”
Graham’s brows furrowed. “People care.”
