Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“What’s your problem?” I ask, pulling my arm from his grip.
“Why are you flirting with that man?”
“Excuse me?” I ask incredulously. The last time I checked I was a grown woman free to do whatever the hell I wanted.
Darian points and because I feel like mocking his insolent behavior I follow his finger and stare at the wall. “I don’t see anyone.”
He scoffs and throws his hands up, much to my delight. “Grow up, Z.”
“Darian, I’m having a hard time understanding this protective brother shit. Fill in the blanks for me, so you and I are on the same page.” And because I want to be defiant, I cross my arms and make sure my foot is tapping on the floor with my lips pursed.
“Van is flipping the hell out because you were flirting with that extra.” My face must morph into something dangerous because Darian steps back and raises his hands as if that is going to protect him from the beatdown he’s about to receive.
“In case you’ve forgotten Big Brother, Van cheated. Not just emotionally but physically in the worst way possible. If he had kissed another woman, I’d probably be able to forgive him after he groveled for a year, but he gave himself to someone else when he vowed that I would be the only one. If Van has a problem with me talking to the father of the girl who is the lead in our video, he can take it up with Laura. . . oh wait, he’s sleeping with her too, not to mention he has a girlfriend already.”
“I’m just saying—”
“What exactly? That I’m supposed to open my arms and let that piece of shit back into my life?”
“What? Hell no,” he says, shaking his head. “We’re at work. I told him he needs to remain professional, and so do you.”
I roll my eyes, but he’s right. Not that I was flirting with the man outside, but even if I were, that’s my choice and my business. Darian pulls me into a hug and rests his chin on top of my head.
“I know shit’s hard, Z. We’re all feeling it.”
That was something I didn’t want to happen, for the band to suffer. I know the easiest thing is for me to forget that Van has destroyed our marriage, but I can’t. If he wasn’t happy all he had to do was say something but had to go and do the more hurtful act out there. We could’ve easily parted amicably and saved ourselves a lot of pain. Although I can’t imagine the pain being any less than it is now.
“We could kick him out.”
“Caleb would never go for it,” Darian says. He’s right. Honestly, I think the label would probably prefer that I quit than to lose Van.
A loud voice booms outside the dressing room, announcing that lunch is over and it’s time to get back to work. Reluctantly, I follow Darian out of the dressing room and find myself looking down the hall to see if I can spot Levi. For the life of me, I can’t understand why I would do that. I don’t know if it’s because of his accent or because he sticks out like a sore thumb. He seems to be so out of place with this plaid shirt and cowboy boots. I look down at my gloved hand and smile. It hurts like a bitch, but the way he tried to take care of me stands out clearly in my mind.
It’s another two hours when we finally wrap. I catch wind that the dancers are all going back to Stormy Austin’s house for a party and that everyone is invited. Everyone that is except for Reverend Sister because honestly, why would they think to invite the band knowing full well we’d tell them no.
Still, I’m curious and ask one of the choreographers to point out who Stormy is. Call it a hazard of the job or whatnot, but I’ve never learned any of the extra’s names prior to now. When he points to Levi’s daughter, a small smile plays on my lips. The urge to ask for directions is pressing, but I refrain and head to the dressing room instead to grab my bag so I can head home.
I quickly change back into the shorts and tank top that I arrived in and cover my eyes with my sunglasses. At least now when the paparazzi take my picture, I’ll have make-up on and won’t look like death warmed over.
Outside, the dancers are all chatting about the shoot and how they thought it went well. One comments that he didn’t like the song and if I wasn’t in a hurry to get out of there, I’d grab his name and make sure he never worked another day in the industry again.