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Bryce dropped into the seat next to his, slapping Jordan on the thigh as he did. “I saw some Laguna Beach photos the other day. Construction looks pretty much done. The golf course is coming along beautifully, the design team have done a fantastic job. I bet you’re itching to get out to the site.”
“Absolutely. I paid a quick visit to the resort a month or so back and the fairway greens are certainly looking green. I can’t wait until the first paying guests tee off.”
He was saying all the right things, but this morning Jordan’s heart and mind were elsewhere. Until only a few days ago, California had long meant the big ocean-side resort, but now it represented something else. LA was where Chloe lived. He couldn’t stop thinking of her.
She’d given him her home address in Beverly Hills, and he’d promised to keep it private. Her home was in a gated community, and protected on the ground by security, but Chloe certainly didn’t need people finding out where she lived and attempting to illegally fly drones over her house. She’d told him she was always worried about the super fans who went to extraordinary lengths just to get her picture. Her home was her one true place of refuge from the world.
The Royal family knew as much about the need for protection as anyone else. Wealth seemed to always attract the wrong kind of people. People who wanted money. People who wanted power and influence. In Chloe’s case, Jordan suspected the members of her entourage were those sorts of people.
“So when are you moving out to Laguna Beach?” asked Bryce.
“Soon. I hadn’t planned to relocate until late next month, but you know New York at this time of the year. Cold and miserable. So I’m thinking of packing my things and heading out to California not long after I get home.”
Jordan hadn’t planned to rush out to the West Coast. The resort wasn’t due to start receiving guests until sometime in September. But if there was a chance that he and Chloe might be able to carve out some alone time for themselves before then, he wanted to be in LA. He’d messaged her earlier to let her know he’d changed his mind and would be in LA the following week.
He was keen to see Chloe and discover what might truly lay between them. To find out if perhaps Paris hadn’t been just a one night stand. But in the meantime, he was going to keep his connection with the pop princess a closely guarded secret. The last thing he needed was for anyone in Royal Resorts to find out and start questioning his motives for being in LA.
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
Chloe’s home Beverly Hills
One week later
“Now we’re in preliminary discussions with several tour promoters, but I’m looking to lock in some concert venues for late August, early September. Your mini European tour went well, but we need you back out on the road as soon as this album is completed.”
I’ve just got home.
“I’ve been thinking about taking some time off toward the end of the summer, rather than going on the road again. I know you want me touring, but I’m tired. I need a break. And this new album isn’t even finished. I’m not a machine, Foster. I can’t keep working at this pace.”
They were standing outside on the patio of her Beverly Hills home, next to the swimming pool. Foster had a thing for conducting business with Chloe out of earshot of her people. Just the two of them. Like it had always been.
Foster waved his golden ring-laden hand in her direction. The light from the morning sun caught the expensive jewels and the colorful reflections danced across the water’s surface of the swimming pool. He clearly wasn’t listening, or if he was, he didn’t care. This past year had seen him push her harder than ever to produce new music and be constantly in front of her adoring public.
“You know you need to be front and center with your fans. If you aren’t they will forget you. The next younger, prettier star is always waiting in the wings. Ready to take your place.”
How many times had she heard that thinly veiled threat? If she didn’t continue to feed the fame monster, it would soon turn its attention to someone else. Stars came and went. Fame lived and died. The not so subtle dig about age and beauty always struck home. Foster loved to play on Chloe’s insecurities.
Something has changed. He is agitated. But why?
She knew better than to come straight out and ask him what was going on. Foster was the one who had given Chloe her big break. It was rare for her to challenge him on any of his decisions. She owed him her entire career, and he never let her forget it.
Chloe glanced furtively at her watch. Jordan had said he was coming to see her this morning. She didn’t want Foster knowing about him. Her manager would no doubt tell her that she didn’t have time for romance. Or a private life.
She took a deep breath, summoned her courage, and for the first time that she could actually remember, met his gaze. Eight—almost nine—years of back-to-back success had to have earned her the right to some personal space. God knows she had worked hard enough for it.
“Let’s not book anything until this album is done. I don’t know if I will be able to manage a full tour.”
He narrowed his dark eyes at her, anger creased the corners of his mouth. Foster wasn’t a man used to being told “no”. Especially not by Chloe.
“I think you might want to check your contract, young lady. While I’m your manager, you have obligations to meet.”
Foster could make life difficult for her, but unlike every other time she had thought to challenge his authority, today Chloe wasn’t in the mood for simply taking things lying down. Something within her had changed. “I know I have certain things which I am contractually obliged to do, but I am not a robot. I am a person, and I’m telling you I need a break. I need time for me.”
It took all her mental strength to hold back her heart’s pleas. To make him finally look past Chloe the superstar and see the young woman. But Foster wasn’t that kind of man, she doubted he’d ever been that way. He was all business. All money. She was merely the means to an end. And when he tired of her, when he’d wrung out every last cent of her talent, he would find a replacement.
“We will discuss this further when you are in a more rational state of mind,” Foster huffed. Without so much as a goodbye, he turned on his heel and headed back into the house. Chloe followed in his wake. Her manager kept walking. Right out the front door, which he closed behind him with an unnecessary degree of force and headed straight to his car. The roar of his Bugatti Chiron sportscar filled her ears as it tore down the driveway.
By the time Chloe made it outside, the dust and stones kicked up by Foster’s high performance racing car were still settling back down onto the drive. She stood hands on hips and glared at the road.
