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* * *
Two hours and a million outfits later, I’m packed for a night in the city. Having bid Nola and Josie farewell, I take a second to admire the make-up that Josie insisted I wear.
Usually, the only time I wear make-up is when I’m at Rogue, and that’s vastly removed from the understated elegance staring back at me right now. It’s all neutral browns and beiges that suit my skin tone to perfection. She finished the look with a glossy pink lip that I simply love.
After much debate between the two girls, I’d settled on a forest green maxi dress that has tiny pearl buttons down the front and the most gorgeous cap sleeves.
They tried and failed to get me into heels as I’d discovered a pair of exquisitely detailed flat sandals that laced up my calves, and there was no talking me out of wearing them. They are, quite simply, the nicest footwear I’ve ever worn.
I grab the matching bejewelled handbag, toss my phone inside and heft my overnight bag down the stairs, only to meet Ford, the guard from the day of my arrival, entering the recording studio.
“Allow me, ma’am.” His Texan drawl brings a smile to my face. “Caden asked me to help you with that.”
He indicates the bag, which I gratefully pass into his waiting hands, smiling wider. “Thank you, Ford.”
“Caden left with Miss Bella almost an hour ago.”
My shoulders slump at the news, and my smile dissipates. “Why was that, do you know?” We walk slowly in the direction of a waiting black town car.
Ford chuckles; the sound is a rumble in his broad chest. “Miss Bella wanted to be at the penthouse before it was time for little Sebastian’s bedtime.”
My disappointment turns to amusement. “Sounds like Bella.”
“Precisely, ma’am. And Cade can never say no. He threw some shit into a case and lit out after telling me where to drop you off.”
I turn to him, meet his gaze, and smile slightly. “Ford? Please, call me Summer.”
We reach the car, and Ford opens the trunk to gently deposit my heavy bag as though it weighs less than a feather. Then he rounds the car, sliding his arm in front of me to tug open the door, and winks like he’s in on something I have no idea about.
“So, let's get going, Miss Summer.”
* * *
CADEN
Having dropped a highly amped Bug to Henry and Liv at the DeMarco penthouse, I’d quickly raced to the Alexandra Palace, where the boys—Jake Milano among them as I’d eventually tracked the fucker down—were ready and waiting to have a quick run-through the setlist.
I kept it relatively similar to our recent gigs before this current break, but added in a change or two that raised more than one or two eyebrows.
“Are yousure?”
“Are youserious?”
“You’re a soppy cunt.” That last one from Jake earned him a solid slap around the back of the head.
“And you’re an asshole, Milano.” I smirk good-naturedly. The banter between us feels even better than usual.
We cram a handful of songs into the next hour before my phone chimes with a text message.
Ford
Pina Colada?
I snort a laugh, remembering how I’d told him we needed to come up with safe words in the event that we ever had an incident like Layla’s breakdown.
Me
I take that to mean the eagle has landed?
