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Chapter 11
Maxi had been on the phone with her team, Jessie, and Martin since they left the police station. Billy knew that she had a lot riding on this preview concert and that her missing it wasn’t good. She was working, doing damage control, and he got that. But he had a strange feeling that there was more to it than that.
He had a sneaking suspicion that she was avoiding talking to him. He wasn’t sure if it was because she was scared he was going to try to continue the conversation that he’d started in the interrogation room, or if she just didn’t want to talk about the case at all. But he was convinced that she was trying to make sure that he didn’t get the chance to find out. Every time one call would end she’d make another one. Maybe he was being paranoid. But other than giving him the name of the venue so he knew where to drive them, she hadn’t said two words to him.
Before Grover had come in, she’d been upset. More upset than he’d ever seen her. If they hadn’t been interrupted, he might’ve been able to find out why, but now… He glanced over at Maxi who was on a call as they made their way through the maze of halls in the back of the venue where Ricco had performed six tracks off his new album. From one glance he could see that her walls were back up. She was all business.
He feared that his window of opportunity to find out what she was keeping from him had shut. Being private, keeping things to herself had always been Maxi’s go to move. Which was probably one of the reasons that she was great at her job, but it wouldn’t help him find whoever was doing this.
As they passed a staircase that looked like it was one rusted nail away from falling apart, Billy scanned the area. Other than several groups of girls that were huddled together everyone looked like they were crew or management. Except one. Posted outside a closed door was a tall, imposing looking man that he instantly recognized as Andrew Charles Elliot or “Ace.” He’d seen him in a picture that Seth had on his wall from their days together in Seth’s Marine’s Special Ops unit.
Maxi approached the man with her hand extended. “You must be Ace, I’m Maxi. So good to meet you.”
“You too, ma’am.” Ace nodded as he shook Maxi’s hand.
“Please, call me Maxi.”
Billy knew that it shouldn’t bother him to watch the two of them interacting. It was a pleasant introduction, not anything to be jealous about. So why did he want to pull Maxi to his side and make it known that she was his.
She wasn’t his, no matter what it felt like.
Shaking off the overwhelming bout of possessiveness that had overtaken him, Billy reached out his hand. “I’m Billy, Seth’s said a lot of good things. We’re all happy to have you on the team.”
“I’m happy to be here.” Ace shook his hand.
Maxi lowered her voice and leaned forwards slightly. “How have things been going?”
“We had one incident. A couple of fans from the meet and greet snuck into the dressing room. Other than that, things have been quiet.”
“Quiet?” Maxi’s brow raised in surprise.
Ace grinned. “No other incidents to report.”
“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” a voice that sounded familiar shouted behind them. Billy recognized it as the manager that had left several outraged messages on Maxi’s voicemail.
They turned to see a man that looked to be in his late fifties walking towards them. His thinning hair was styled so that not a strand was out of place. He was wearing tailored clothes, Italian leather shoes, and a high-end watch that probably cost more than most people’s vehicles, and a smug expression that Billy wanted to knock off his pompous face.
“Alan, I’m so sorry that I couldn’t be here—”
The man lifted his hand. “Save it. I don’t give a shit about your apologies. I’d fire your ass myself, but Ricco requested he see you.” Motioning to the door directly behind Ace, Alan asked, “He still in there?”
Ace nodded once and although his demeanor remained professional it was clear to Billy that he didn’t like the douchebag manager any more than Billy did.
When the familiar strands of Guns N’ Roses “Welcome to the Jungle” began playing, Alan pulled a phone from his jacket pocket.
“Stay here,” he instructed Maxi before moving down the hall that they’d just come from and answering his call.
“Oh good, you’re here!” An attractive woman holding a phone in one hand and an iPad in the other exclaimed excitedly as she rushed up to Maxi.
“I am. Cora, this is Billy Marshall,” Maxi made the introductions. “Billy, this is Cora, she heads my social media division. She is the Twitter, Instagram, and Snapchat queen.”
“What about Facebook?” Billy asked.
Both Maxi and Cora looked at him like he had just sprouted another head.
“Facebook is not really Ricco’s demographic,” Maxi explained diplomatically. “He trends younger.”
Billy suddenly felt every one of his twenty-nine years. “So, what, is Facebook for old people, or something?”
