Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
She winked as she walked backward toward the elevator where they were holding it for her.
“Hang down here with Marci and she’ll get you settled. See you later, you heartthrob, you.” I didn’t know who Marci was, but I assumed she was someone’s assistant with how she smiled gently and waved at me, an iPad clutched in her arms.
With one last flourish of her hand, Isabella and that half of the team were gone, but her words still played in my head.
A good show.
Yeah.
Because that was all it was.
• • •
I watched Mia’s interview and performance from the back row of a packed audience.
The show was one that was pre-recorded, but that didn’t take anything away from the palpable energy from a crowd that was beyond excited to be the first to hear her new single performed live. They had to do a few takes just to ensure they could actually hear Mia over the screams and the fans singing along to the song — a song that had just released less than a week ago, in between the time the news of our “relationship” had broke and this performance.
The fans knew all the lyrics, already.
I took it all in with my sunglasses on, arms folded, and back leaning against the wall. I was thankful that most of the attention was on her and no one seemed to really notice me. Although, I didn’t miss the fans who thought they were slick recording me on their phone from the back couple of rows.
I liked the new song. It was poppy enough to sound like her old albums, but with a deeper edge somehow, a maturity that felt new and fresh for her. It reminded me of the songs she’d write in her bedroom when we were younger, the ones she’d sing only when she thought no one else was home. Except this was more of a bop, of course — and I knew that was on purpose.
The label would want to be sure that first single was a hit.
When the show was over, I waited with some of Mia’s team for her to join us on the bottom floor again, and then it was time to face the crowd. This time, though, it wasn’t as intense. There must have been something else going on that called to the paparazzi because there was only a handful of cameras now and a small gathering of fans.
When the elevator doors opened, Mia, Rina, Glo, and Isabella filed out mid-laugh before saying goodbye to the show runner. Mia’s eyes found mine, and she smiled.
She was all dolled up now — lashes dark and long, lips stained red, hair styled in silky waves. She still wore the black, bedazzled dress from her performance. The neckline plunged so low it nearly hit her belly button, the slight swells of her cleavage just a tease where that fabric split. And as distracting as that was, it was nothing compared to her long, lean legs — legs carved by years of dancing.
I smirked as she made her way toward me, sliding my hands in my pockets.
“Hello again,” she said. “Enjoy the show?”
“Of course. You know what a big fan I am.”
She cocked a brow.
“Palma McLaughlin?” I shot a thumb over my shoulder as if I was pointing to the stage. Palma had been another guest star on the show tonight. “I’ve had a crush on her for years. When she starred as that bad ass undercover cop in Shoot Out…”
I let out a low whistle that was cut short by Mia playfully punching me in the gut. She did so with a roll of her eyes, but when she tried to pull away, I grabbed her wrist and tugged her into me, instead.
“You were phenomenal,” I said, making sure her blue eyes were locked on mine before the words left my mouth. “I had no doubts you would be.”
She smiled, but pressed her hand into my chest at the same time. “Whatever.”
“I’m serious. I like the new song. Can I hear the rest of the album?”
“On August third with the rest of the world,” Isabella answered for her, and then she was shoving us toward the door. “Come on. Let’s get you two to the hotel.”
Putting one arm around Mia’s shoulder, I leaned in to whisper where only she could hear. “You’ll give me a sneak peek, right?”
“We’ll see.”
“Oh, is it dependent on good behavior?”
“If it was, you’d definitely stand no chance.”
“I can be a good boy.”
“Sure, and I can be a gourmet chef.”
“So funny,” I teased, digging my fingers into her ribs just as security opened the doors.
Mia laughed just as the flurry of camera flashes assaulted us, and I told myself I was acting when I pulled her into my side and pressed a kiss against her hair.