Six weeks into the tour, Marnie wondered what she had gotten herself into. From the moment she'd stepped onto the tour bus, it was a never‐ending hell week. Danny was wearing her thin.
She took lunch orders, carried luggage, and unpacked all six musicians' clothes in the hotel rooms. He inspected all her work, encouraging heckling when she made mistakes, which were many. If Marnie unpacked the clothes in the wrong order, Danny grabbed the clothes from the closet, threw them on the floor and made her hang them correctly. If she ordered the tuna salad, but forgot to mention no onions, he made her eat the mistake, whether she was hungry or not.
Marnie's typical day consisted of walking Mickey rain or shine, heat wave or windy weather. When she ordered Danny's breakfast, she had to make sure the coffee was one hundred and ninety‐five degrees Fahrenheit. She answered e‐mails, helped the roadies unpack the equipment, checked mic levels, and revised the weekly backstage pass list.
Her days off were spent sending and picking up Danny's, the band's, and road crew's, dry cleaning, as well as scheduling interviews and massages for Danny. Sometimes she got the occasional call to hit the store for condoms and lube at two in the morning.
It was Sunday. The crew had checked into a swanky hotel in Daytona, Florida. Everyone was taking a break before packing up and heading to Miami. She was determined to be one of the few who stayed in bed past 10:00 a.m. She hit the snooze button on the alarm and pulled the covers over her head to block out the warm Florida sun streaming through the sliding glass door in her hotel room.
She'd given the bellhop her lunch money for the day, so she wouldn't have to get up at the crack of dawn to walk Mickey. Although the walks were doing wonders for her stamina, her feet were screaming for rest from the constant hustle and bustle of the hellish tour.
Marnie heard three quick raps on her door. That knock identified only one person. With a sigh, she reluctantly rolled out of bed and opened the door for Danny. She glanced appreciatively at the charcoal sweatpants and wife beater which showcased his broad shoulders. His olive skin beamed underneath the sun—rich, smooth, and worthy of a thousand kisses. Without a word, she snuggled back beneath the sheets, hoping he would take pity on her and let her relax for one day.
“What do you think you're doing?” Danny asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed.
“I just need a few hours,” she whined.
“Have you learned nothing from these past six weeks? If you're looking for pity, you're talking to the wrong guy. I'm not sober because people felt sorry me. You got yourself into this situation because you made some bad choices. I don't even understand why you were selling your body anyway. I can tell you're smart.”
Marnie turned away from him. She couldn't stand to hear his lecture for the umpteenth time. His hand closed over hers, and she turned to face him. He ran a finger over the pads of her own. She licked her lips to distract herself from the delicious tingle running up her arm.
“I bet you've never worked a day in your life before you met me.” She detected a bitter tone hidden behind the laughter in his smoky gray eyes. “A little hard work is what's going to keep you straight.”
“I'm tired. I'm not going to use just because I want to sleep in for a few hours.”
He dropped her hand and leaned against her side angling to gaze into her eyes. “If you deviate from your routine, you will want to use. Marnie, if I leave you to your own devices, it's only natural for you to want to get high again after being sober.”
His weight shift as he leaned forward. “I once did a three‐month stint in rehab, and the minute I left the building, I called my dealer and scored ten grams of yayo. Oh man.” His eyes lit up as the memory washed over him. “It was such a rush to do it after being sober for so long.” His dark look took a reprieve, revealing a bit of lightness.
Marnie shrugged.
“I didn't do my chores that day.”
Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Okay, I get it.”
She pushed herself up, but her arms shook underneath her.
Danny let out a deep sigh. “Don't sleep too late. Don's having a pool party downstairs.”
Don was the tour manager. From what Marnie could gather from the crew, Danny and Don didn't like each other, but Don ran a tight ship. The crew respected him, and he was able to work with the promoters to make sure Danny had whatever he wanted. In this business it wasn't about who you liked, it was all about who you could stand to work with.
“Feel free to order in breakfast. But tomorrow I expect you to walk Mickey. He's bonded with you. He didn't enjoy the thirty minute walk with the bellhop today. I expect you to make it up to him tomorrow,” Danny said as he made his way toward the door.
Crap, I bet now he'll make me walk him for three hours. On the bright side, Marnie thought, rolling over to sink deeper into her pillow, he didn't say what time she had to get up today! And he also said she could have room service. Marnie planned to order the most expensive breakfast on the menu.
The shrieks of laughter and the sound of splashing water guided her down the hallway. All of the road crew and band members were already in the pool Don had privately arranged for them. Marnie showed up in a bikini top, swimming trunks, and the Verona shades she'd borrowed from Danny's bag months earlier. She was still surprised he hadn't asked for them back. He probably has so many he doesn't even notice they are gone, Marnie mused.
She slowly lowered herself into the deep end of the pool and watched Danny and his bodyguard, Kevon, play volleyball. Danny was getting creamed. Kevon punted the ball, which was received by Danny's head not once, but twice. The water dripped over Kevon's muscular torso as he jumped to block the volleyball coming his way.
Kevon and Marnie were strangers to each other, but she already knew more about him than the average stranger. Newports and ham sandwiches were all he ever asked her for. Kevon was quiet and mostly kept to himself on the tour. He was hands off, with a capitol NO. His wife, Phyllis, had already cornered Marnie and bared her cougar claws.
“Don't even look at him,” Phyllis had screeched when Marnie bumped into her while getting off the tour bus. Phyllis didn't have to worry though, because her sex drive was shot. A ‘gone fishing' sign hung on the door, Marnie joked.
Besides, while Kevon may have been taller and his muscles large, she had no problem feasting her eyes on Danny's taut figure. His white swimming trunks hugged his waist, and as he surged forward to block the ball, water cascaded against a smooth chest with tightly packed abs Marnie itched to count.
The female members of the crew were gathered in the whirlpool—Jessica, a dancer, Phyllis, a background singer, Laura, the on‐call physician and Candace, the youngest of them all. Candace's eyes lit up when she spied Marnie. She jumped up and down in the water, her copper hair bouncing then raised her hand in greeting. Her lips mouthed something Marnie couldn't hear. The twinkle in her chocolate eyes told Marnie she was a little too innocent to realize Danny's personal assistant wasn't supposed to be befriended. It wasn't so much the snippets of gossip she caught when they thought she couldn't hear, but it was more in the stares and smirks they gave her that made her realize she was in enemy territory. Laura, Jessica, and Phyllis were the cheerleaders of the regime. It wasn't like they weren't nice to her. They just didn't like mysteries.
From what the male crew members told her, Danny had never needed an assistant before, so her presence was all the more unusual. She longed to tell them she was no anomaly. She had no designs on Kevon, or Laura's beau. She could barely get through the day, let alone try to muster up the energy to flirt. But she was sworn to secrecy, so she avoided their barbed wire stares. She averted her eyes from Candace's eager grin.
Marnie returned to feasting her eyes on the statuesquely toned caramel man creaming Danny in volleyball. She'd rather watch Kevon flex his muscles than listen to those hens cluck. She wanted to enjoy her day in peace.
Despite her best intentions, when she heard her name screamed across the pool and noticed Candace was still vying for her attention, she relented.
“Come here,” Candace mouthed, once she had caught Marnie's line of sight.
Ignoring the girls at this point would only make matters worse.
As she started to climb into the whirlpool, Jessica hissed, “Uh, uh. Don't invite her over here. If she doesn't want to hang out with us, then I certainly don't want to hang out with her.”
Jessica's jealousy was obvious. Marnie's body was a shapely dream with a voluptuous backside and flat tummy. Her beautiful light‐honey skin tone beamed under the Florida sun while Jessica's fake tan made her look more orange than bronze. Marnie's body was long, but curvy in all the right areas except for her breasts; they were not the right proportions to match that rear hump of hers. This was one area Jessica physically excelled in. Of course, if Marnie had breast implants, she would too.
“Hello,” Marnie said, sitting on the rim of the hot tub.
“Come on in.” Candace scooted over, which forced Phyllis to follow suit.
“How you doing?” Jessica asked, flashing her hundred‐watt fake smile.
“I'm so happy to relax for a second. I slept till eleven o'clock this morning,” Marnie said, smiling.
“Give me some right there girl,” Candace raised her hand and the girls shared a high five. “I don't know why Don books the tours so close together. A two‐day layover is not enough time for us to get our mojo back.”
“So,” Phyllis said, breaking into the conversation. “How long have you known Danny?”
“A few weeks.”
Danny had cautioned her against telling anyone of their arrangement, so she kept her answers vague.
“How does it feel to be his assistant?” Jessica asked.
“It's exhilarating and exhausting at the same time. I never knew how much work went into preparing for a show. Although I've done it ten times now, I feel like each time I learn something new.”
“Oh, that's nice. How did you and Danny meet?” Phyllis asked.
She could feel her slowly probing forward like a snake in the grass, waiting for an opening.
“Gary's,” Marnie replied. That wasn't a total lie. Danny had taken an interest in her at Gary's. “I saw him at his table, and I looked, and I said to myself, no, that can't be Danny. But then I looked again, and I just kept staring at him. Anyway, I finally, got up the nerve and went over there and got down on my knees and I said: ‘You are the greatest artist ever, and I would just die if I could go on tour with you'. I told him I would do anything, so here I am doing anything he wants. It's very surreal,” Marnie explained.
“No, I don't buy that,” Jessica said. “Danny doesn't just give people anything and everything they want. Just admit you're fucking him honey, ‘cause that is the dumbest story I have ever heard.” Jessica erupted into a fit of laughter.
Her chest heaved as her body rocked. She laughed so hard at Marnie's story tears began to stream down her face. The rest of the group burst into laughter along with her.
Upset that Jessica had called her a bold‐faced liar, Marnie left the tub in a huff. Sitting in her room watching television was better than dealing with these women. She didn't understand why Danny had wanted her at the pool party anyway. The best way to keep their secret was for her to stay away. Humiliation gripped her as hot tears escaped and rolled down her face as she walked into the elevator. She was grateful no one else saw her. She took a few deep breaths and tried to slow the flow of tears.
Her skin crawled and her mind drifted to another time when sleazy men chuckled at her. Deep rumbling laughs echoed in her head.
Stop it! She silently screamed.
Stop it! She silently screamed.