“I saw her getting into a limo a few hours ago.”
Dom pointed to an exit behind them. Lizzy growled and looked at her watch. Bristol put her hands on her hips and turned to face the stage. “Hopefully, she’ll show up soon.” She knew Sterling had given Annie the studio tour. While Top Shelf was impressive on the outside, Bristol hoped that Annie took her advice and didn’t do anything stupid like sign with them without an agent.
“I’m sorry I’m late.” Annie jogged up behind them carrying her guitar on her back. “Traffic to get here was awful.”
“That leaves you fifteen minutes of practice time. I’d hustle up there if I were you,” Lizzy said.
Bristol didn’t like the tone Lizzy took with Annie, even though she wasn’t happy with Annie’s whereabouts today. “I can shave off a few minutes of my practice,” Bristol said. She finally met Annie’s eyes. “Make sure you’re comfortable up there and the sound techs get it right. Don’t rush. Lizzy gets anxious when we play a large crowd.”
Annie’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Thank you. I won’t take a long time up there.” She swung her guitar to her front and made her way onstage.
Bristol turned to Lizzy. “Let’s not make her feel like shit before a show, okay? Can we do that?”
Lizzy squared her shoulders and faced Bristol. “You lost sleep because of her.”
Bristol regretted confiding in Lizzy. “That’s still not a reason to make her feel bad. I can’t blame her for looking out for herself. I’d do the same. And don’t forget, you were her biggest cheerleader in Denver.” Bristol turned and marched back to her dressing room. She was so conflicted. Her heart was angry, but her head understood what Annie was doing. They’d only known each other for what? A few weeks? That wasn’t enough for any loyalty regardless of whatever sparks were happening between them. It wasn’t like Bristol had confided any of her feelings about Top Shelf with Annie. She didn’t even know that talking to Sterling was pissing Bristol off.
“Okay. We won’t talk about Annie.” Lizzy followed Bristol back to the suite.
Trying to keep her voice as casual as possible, Bristol asked the question Lizzy wasn’t going to. “I wonder how the tour at Top Shelf went?” Bristol shrugged as though it wasn’t a big deal. “Did she text anything?”
Lizzy was monitoring Bristol’s Top Shelf phone. Half an hour after she and Lizzy had hung up the night before, Clarissa had shown up with a new phone. She’d already set it up and entered the contact numbers Lizzy had given her. Lizzy hadn’t included Annie’s number.
“I left your phone on the bus, but there wasn’t anything an hour ago,” Lizzy said.
That didn’t sound like Annie. Bristol had gotten used to her sending little texts at the end of the night and looked forward to them more than she realized. Maybe Lizzy was lying. Maybe she wanted Bristol to focus solely on the tour and not on the cute musician. It was hard enough to keep up the pretense of working on an album when there were so many moles on tour with them. Lizzy probably didn’t want to deal with another Natasha Breeze on top of that. “I can just talk to her backstage tonight. I’m sure she’ll tell me,” Bristol said.
“You look tired. Why don’t you try to get some rest?”
Bristol couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept. She was too amped up to sleep from Vegas to Los Angeles. Too many thoughts were spinning in her head, and she couldn’t just focus on one thing, so she gave up and let her mind wander for five hours. Most of her happy thoughts led her back to Annie, but some of the bitter ones did, too. She should have elaborated more about her relationship with Sterling to Annie. She didn’t hate Sterling because she broke her heart. It was because she preyed on people. She took advantage of Bristol and so many others.
Tyson Mayfield didn’t care. He encouraged his daughter’s shady tactics. He was a numbers guy who wanted a fat wallet and bragging rights. He had plenty of both. When Bristol worked up enough nerve to tell him she didn’t want to work with Denny Briggs, Tyson promised she wouldn’t have to, but the exact opposite happened. Denny ended up producing her next two albums. If it wasn’t for Lizzy sitting in on every session, Bristol didn’t want to think what Denny would have tried to do to her. Actually, she knew exactly what he would have done. The same thing he did to Ruby Delgado. Sterling knew exactly what was happening to Ruby and did nothing to prevent it. She and Tyson were disgusting. Bristol couldn’t wait to finish the tour and shove any contract they tried baiting her with right in their faces.
Bristol felt a wave of gratitude for Lizzy. “You know you’re the best, right?”
Lizzy looked concerned but masked it with a smile. “We’re almost done. What’s the countdown now?”
“Eleven. Only eleven more shows.”
“That’s less than three weeks.” Lizzy held her hands up for Bristol to slap. Bristol smacked them with enough force they both shook their hands from the sting. “Top Shelf has been asking about signing a contract for that fake album I told them you’ve been working on all tour. I have a feeling they’re going to hold us hostage on the last concert.”
“Good luck. Too many people are going to be around,” Bristol said. She was ending their tour with the proverbial bang with three other well-known artists. When news had spread that the final concert was star-studded, secondhand-ticket-outlet prices skyrocketed. General admission seats were selling for at least five hundred dollars. VIP were going for at least two thousand. The concert started at five and ended at midnight. Logistics were going to be a bitch, and Lizzy was beyond stressed working with the arena on the details.
“Are you really just going to run away from all this? Can you do it?”
Bristol shrugged. “Ask me in six months.”
“Will do. Now, go relax. I’ll get you for Annie’s set, if you still want to do it.”
Bristol frowned. “Of course I do.”
“Then I’ll get you in an hour.”
When Lizzy closed the door, Bristol flopped onto the couch. She was tired—physically, mentally, and emotionally. She plugged her ears and covered up with a blanket that Lizzy delivered from the bus. Trying to tune out the background noises was easy. Ignoring her loud thoughts proved to be more difficult and shaved valuable time off her nap.
* * *
Annie was smiling when Bristol showed up onstage next to her at the end of her set, but her eyes were guarded. Maybe she thought Bristol was mad at her for going on the tour or coming back late from it. She sang Annie’s song and, in a move that surprised them both, kissed her cheek before she skipped offstage.
“What was that all about?” Lizzy asked while half jogging just to keep up with Bristol’s pace.
“Just keeping the peace.” She was greeted by a flurry of activity as her stylists buzzed around her to get her wardrobe ready. Phoebe patted the chair to get started on her hair. Bristol was getting tired of coming up with new looks. It was easy to let her hair down and wear something sexy and black, but the wholesome look during the first half was wearing thin. She wasn’t feeling it today and agreed on a pair of ankle jeans, a cute white sleeveless shirt with a Peter Pan collar, and designer sneakers made just for her. She needed solid but fashionable shoes for the dance routine.
“Fast Cars just got off. You’re up in fifteen,” Lizzy said.
The buzz around her became feverish even though she was ready. She closed her eyes right before more hairspray was spritzed on her updo.
“Ready?”
She opened her eyes when she felt Lizzy’s hands on hers. They did their breathing exercises, and when it was time to go, Bristol felt calm and collected. She stood in the wings, waiting until the lights went out and the crowd screamed with delight. It was hard not to smile. The rush of endorphins exploded throughout her and pushed her onstage to her mark. Tonight, she was starting the concert a cappella just to mix things up. Her eyes were closed when the spotlight hit her. She waited a solid twenty seconds for the crowd to settle. When it was obvious they weren’t going to, she started singing, knowing they would quiet down. She sang the words clearly, loudly, and by the end, her voice was just a whisper. They ate it up and begged for more. The band ran onstage, and a roadie quickly delivered her favorite guitar. She slipped the strap around her neck and started strumming the second song. When the stage lit up, Bristol could see rows of smiling faces. Some were singing with her word for word, and some were just nodding to the beat. What she wasn’t expecting to see was Sterling and Annie. She quickly focused on other fans in the first few rows and kept her glances to them minimal. Sterling was having the time of her life, beer in hand, while Annie only smiled when Bristol caught her eye. Annie swayed her hips to the rhythm and drank what looked like ice water. Her blond curls bobbed with the beat, and even though Bristol tried to look everywhere but at Annie, those piercing blue eyes kept drawing her back. It was the longest concert. Sterling was ruining everything, but Bristol couldn’t do anything about it. They were smack dab in the middle of the front row. They were hard to miss.
“LA is my home,” Bristol yelled to fifty thousand fans, who screamed back how they loved her, how they missed her, and how happy they were she was home. “I always forget how good it feels to be back.” This was the part of the show where Bristol took a quick break before dancing with eight professionals in the background. She chatted with the crowd as though she was very interested in their lives but was really taking a breather. She hated choreography, but dancing enhanced the show, and the fans loved it. With the price tag of a ticket so steep, she had to keep up with the trendy concerts other artists offered. She drew the line at swinging on circles high above the stage. She didn’t mind rising from below the stage but refused to be elevated for any reason. Bristol wasn’t a fan of heights.
She switched her guitar for a headset microphone and quickly but carefully clipped it against her ear. It amazed her that something so tiny could produce such a loud sound. She gave the signal to her band to start the next song and got into position. The dance was sweet but turned flirty at the end. She was ramping the fans up for the devil part of her concert. Tonight, she wasn’t going to pull Annie onstage. She wasn’t feeling it. She focused on her footwork. The words flowed effortlessly from her lips. Her music was in her soul. That wasn’t the hard part. Keeping up with her dancers on very little sleep or food was hard.
Lizzy was waiting when Bristol came offstage. “Listen to how much they love you,” she yelled. She handed Bristol a cold water and a towel.
Bristol nodded. She was saving her voice for the encore. She had two songs left, and her throat was feeling scratchy.
Lizzy always knew the signs. “I’ll have a hot tea waiting for you in your dressing room. Save some of that for tomorrow.”
Bristol saluted her and jaunted up the steps back onstage. Her band members were close on her heels. They finished the set quickly, and Bristol wished everyone a safe night. She marched back to her suite and peeled off her drenched clothes. A shower would have to wait. Tonight, she was going to her house. It was an hour drive, but she needed to feel something comforting. She wanted to wake up in her own bed and know that at any moment her mother would pop in. Her family would be at the concert tomorrow night. Her brother was getting home from his internship tonight. She slipped into workout pants and a T-shirt. Security was there to get her to the limo, where two security cars would escort her away from the venue.
“Bristol! Bristol, wait!”
She heard Sterling’s voice but pretended not to. Her detail put space between them and got her safely into the limo. She didn’t see Annie, but everything was a blur. Fans who managed to slip through unsecured areas were pressed flat against the limo banging on the windows. Bristol shrank back in her seat.
“We’ll be out of here in a minute, Ms. Baines,” Willie, a regular driver for Bristol when she was home, said. Normally they waited until most of the crowd had left, but tonight Bristol just wanted to get home. She relaxed when the arena was a disappearing dot behind her.
“Let me know if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Willie.” She waited until he raised the privacy glass between them and pulled out her phone. She wanted to text Annie, but she still didn’t have her number. She pulled up Instagram and smiled. Dom was great at her job. All platforms were full of tour photos, videos, and quotes. She made a mental note to give Dom a raise. She busied herself by watching TikTok videos, and in no time, they were pulling up to her gated community. Willie gave identification to the security post, and Bristol rolled down the window to prove it was her.
“Ms. Baines. Are you back from your tour?” Mac asked. Bristol always liked Mac. He was courteous and professional with her and the other celebrities who lived in this neighborhood.
“Only back for the night, but my tour will be over in two weeks.” She trusted him not to sell her information to the press and tipped him well every year at the holidays to ensure her privacy.
“It’ll be nice to have you back when you’re done. I’m sure you miss being home,” he said. He punched in the code that opened the tall, wrought-iron gate.
She nodded to him and told him to have a good night before she raised the window. She brushed away a few tears that fell when her estate came into view. Seeing the world was great, but there was nothing like the comfort of coming home, even if it was just for a few short hours.