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“Come on, tiger. Get the fuck up.”
A hand gripped Dante’s shoulder, shaking and prodding. Kennedy? Lurching toward consciousness, he hoped it was her. “Huh?” he muttered. “What time is it?”
“It’s two-thirty P the fuck M. We practice at three. In the recording studio at four. I came over early to check on you.”
He opened his eyes, blinked and tried to orient to his surroundings. “Gia.” Her practically glowing fire engine red hair helped snap him into consciousness.
She waved her key card at him. “Your savior. Besides Kennedy, of course.”
“What do you mean?” He rolled over and caught a whiff of Kennedy’s perfume. It sent a jolt to his groin, like a high octane sexual energy drink. Like heaven. He sat up in his bed, his mouth dry, his head pounding, absolutely no idea how he managed to get under the sheets earlier today. His Henley lay in a pile on the floor. His pants were folded on the dresser. And he was naked, hard as a rock, thinking, Did she sleep with me?
“She drove you home. How she managed to get you into bed and undress you is beside me. Hope it was fun, though. Here. Take these.”
She shoved some pills at him along with a glass of pale goop that made his stomach lurch. “What’s this?”
“Aspirin, and a banana, coffee, pretzel smoothie.”
“Sounds disgusting.”
“Drink it anyway. The salt and potassium will help, and the caffeine will give you a jumpstart on the day.” She smiled broadly. “You were a hoot last night. Poor baby getting wasted over his big boo-boo.”
He groaned. “How bad was it?” He sipped at the smoothie, wrinkling his nose in anticipation. Not terrible, he decided, so he tossed back the aspirin and washed them down with a swallow of the brownish glop.
“Pretty bad. But oh, so entertaining.”
“So do you know where she is? Kennedy?”
“Yep. I made Kennedy give me her number so I could check on her. She’s at work.”
“Doesn’t she ever get a day off?”
“She said something about getting called in for an emergency.”
Dante frowned, worried. He made a mental note to give her a call when he was fully awake.
Gia sat next to him on the bed. She patted his hard-on through the tangle of sheets and blankets, saying, “Put that away, stud. Save it for someone who cares.”
He thrust her hand away and took another sip of the smoothie. “This is starting to grow on me.”
“They’re my religion. It really will make you feel better. Now, get up and get into the shower.”
“Can I have some privacy, please?”
“I’ve seen your lollipop before,” Gia said with a roll of her eyes. “Never licked it, though.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not seeing it today. Nor will you ever lick it. Get!”
Gia laughed. “Just playing with you, sport. You’re not my type.”
“You mean you can’t chew me up and discard me when you’re finished.”
“Exactly.”
After she left his room, Dante threw off the covers, slung his legs over the side, and waited for the giant to stop stomping on his head and the ache between his legs to calm. Spying his phone on the floor, he reached for it, unlocked the screen and looked at his texts. Besides several from his manager, his agent, and his publicist Joan chewing him out for last night’s display of drunkenness, he found two texts from Kennedy.
Hope you survive your hangover, (smiley face) and Call me when you can form full sentences again.
“Shit,” he muttered, wondering how he could face her again. She’s strong enough to deal with her life without getting wasted, maybe I should give it a try? He finished off the smoothie and headed for the shower.
After he’d toweled off and dressed in shorts and a retro Limp Bizkit T-shirt, he did, in fact, feel better. He grabbed his phone and texted Kennedy. Thanks for the rescue.
She responded instantly. You’re welcome. Can’t chat. Have to find homes for tigers. Heartbroken.
Without thought, he pressed the little green phone icon on his screen. “What do you mean you have to find homes for tigers?”
“Just that,” she said, her voice cracking. “I’m making calls right now.”
“What happened?”
“No money equals no tigers.”
Dante frowned. Ryan always came through for him with speed and efficiency. “That can’t be. I, uh...one of the reasons I looked into your background was to help the sanctuary. To help you any way I could. You seemed insistent that I don’t help. I already told you, ‘no’ is one of those annoying little obstacle words, not a real deterrent. I already made a huge anonymous donation.” His ear filled with silence. “Did I lose you?”
“No,” she said, sniffling into the phone. “That’s so sweet, Dante. I’m sorry I reacted.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry I went behind your back.”
“I didn’t do it, in case you wondered. Not like the media portrayed it anyway.”
Dante’s eyebrows knit together. “Do what?”
“Blood diamonds. The theft reported. In case you found the media coverage. I was cleared of all charges.”
Dante relaxed, feeling like an idiot for wondering if it true, but relieved nonetheless to hear her confession.
“I wanted nothing to do with Iniko’s evil diamonds. I found out where he had a shipment, hired some guys to get it and gave it to Mosi to get it off the black market. I pleaded with him to do something for the workers who mined them. He never got the chance before he died. I don’t know where the diamonds went. But his father cleared me of any wrongdoing. He didn’t approve of his son’s wicked interests, but his political hands were tied.”
“I believe you, sweetheart. But let’s sort this out later. I have practice in ten, and I need to make a call before the guys get here.” The words I love you began to catapult from his throat, surprising the hell out of him. But honestly, he’d written song after song of love and longing for this beautiful girl throughout the years. Even the song Wet had been a tribute to her, not to fucking Marquise. I want to part you, wet surrender, taking me to bliss, he sang in his mind. I need to pierce you, sweet forever, drawing you into this. He forced the words back, saying, “I’ve got a busy day, but I’ll call you later.”
“Okay,” she said, in a gentle voice that melted his insides. “Thank you.”
“For what? Being a willful jackass? Now I’ll have to make it up to you. Which, in the long run, doesn’t sound all that bad. I plan on making it, oh, so pleasurable.”
“Dante.”
He pictured her pink cheeks when she whispered his name, and he smiled. “Kennedy,” he returned, imagining drawing his fingers along her back, playing her body into supple submission. “Later, sweetheart.”
Next, he pressed the speed dial to Ryan’s office and got his voice mail.
“Hey, Ryan. It’s me. Call me ASAP.” After that, he checked his email. A missive from Kent caught his eye.
Last set of financials for the sanctuary. Only took a glance, but something looks off. Have your guy check them, adding the password to open the files.
He strode toward his dresser and opened the sleek wood of the shallow top drawer where he’d shoved his tablet. He turned it on and opened his mail on the larger screen. He clicked on the PDF containing page after page of numbers. Since he didn’t know what to look for, he forwarded them to Ryan with a request to “see if something doesn’t look right.” Then he heard the rustle and snark of Gia greeting the guys.
When he strode into the front room, he was greeted with “Romeo, Romeo, where for art thou?” and Heat’s cackling laughter.
“Yeah, yeah. Have your fun. I’ve seen you hammered more times than I can count.”
“You’re so cute when you’re drunk,” Keys added. “Like a little puppy.” He let out a guffaw.
“Enough.”
“We’ve only started,” Heat said. “You’re a sloppy, sappy drunk. Even the Marquise got offended.”
“Why? What did I do?”
“You didn’t pay her any attention, that’s what. She quickly grew bored and found a new toy. Your rebuffs were quite effective for once.”
“Remind me what they were so I can use them again.” His phone vibrated in his hand. He glanced at the screen, saw it was Ryan and said, “Go into the studio. We’re going to start with Tempest. That one needs some work.”
“Got it, boss,” Gia said, shooing Heat and Keys in front of her. “Leave the brother alone,” she chided, ushering them away.
“Ryan,” Dante said, swiping the icon to connect.
“Hey. A preliminary scan of the files you sent me does, in fact, look off. I’ve got the forensic accountant taking a deeper look.”
“Off, in what way?”
“Can’t say for sure but the numbers don’t match. It looks like someone’s skimming off the top.”
A sickening feeling rolled through his belly. “Keep me posted. What about my anonymous donation? Kennedy said she’s looking for homes for some of the tigers since they have no money.”
“Nuh uh. That’s ridiculous. I set up the whole deal after we spoke. That’s crazy. They should be set for years with what you gave.”
“Yeah, well, keep digging. I want to get to the bottom of this.”
The twang of an old country song chorus, from I Fall to Pieces, by Patsy Cline, rang out from the studio, followed by raucous laughter.
Dante rolled his eyes. “I appreciate it, man.”
“It’s what you pay me for,” Ryan said.
Next, Dante heard, Cry Me a River, by Justin Timberlake, and still more laughter. He disconnected from Ryan, grabbed his guitar from the side of the couch and belted out, I hate everything about you, by Three Days Grace, changing the next line to why do I still play music with you?
This brought howls of laughter from the band, followed by Heat’s taunt, “Someone’s panties are bunched up his ass.”
Several hours of practice and recording later, they all set out for the studio of the Rolling Stone photographer who wanted some last minute shots for their article. In the lift, Dante thumbed his phone, hoping to find news from Kennedy. He groaned and banged his head against the elevator wall when he saw what she sent him—picture after picture from Page Six of their argument at Crow & Wicket, her storming from the bar, him passed out, his head on the table.
The only bright star was seeing the Marquise looking extremely pissed, flouncing through the crowd, away from him. He read Kennedy’s accompanying headline text. Who the hell is Kennedy Swift? A vindictive gossip piece followed, with questions about Why would mega-superstar Dante Vega date an unknown, leaving Marquise in tears?
His phone chimed with an incoming text. Kennedy.
He swiftly scanned it.
I’m starting to hate the number six.
He pressed number one on his phone keypad, waiting for her to answer. As soon as he heard her voice, he said, “You can’t read this shit, baby. Not ever.”
“Yeah, but they’re playing at my fears that I’ll never be good enough for you.”
She sounded so sad, his heart splintered. “Shhh, stop it.” He held the phone away from his ear and said, “Go get a taxi. I’ll meet you there.”
“Aw, so sweet,” Heat said.
“Wah wah,” Keys said.
“Leave him alone,” Gia said. “Off with you, Beavis and Butthead.” She hailed a taxi and pushed them inside, climbing in after them. She waved to Dante as they pulled away.
“Seriously, sweetheart. It’s all lies and bullshit. Start listening to Eminem songs. He’s made a fortune protesting this shit.”
“Yeah, but they’re saying it about you and me,” she said, her voice sounding plaintive.
“They don’t know you and me. It’s all fiction. Make-believe. Total garbage.”
“How long of a fling did you have with the Marquise, anyway?”
His stomach bunched in a knot, like the same giant who’d stomped on his head when he woke up, now squeezed his insides with a meaty grip. “It was a mistake. We went out a couple times. Big mistake, and I mean big.”
“You still seem to be paying for it.”
He winced, thinking, you don’t know the half of it. “Yeah,” he said. “I am. But I don’t want to talk about Marquise. I was completely pissed off she came up to me last night. Honestly, Kennedy, if you ever see her near me, it’s never because I initiated anything. I try to stay as far from her as humanly possible. That holds true for any girl. They throw themselves at me. They want to do strip teases for me. They want me to autograph their boobs, their butts, anywhere they can think of. Anything to get my attention.”
“That doesn’t make me feel more secure, Dante.”
“Look, when I was younger, it was a lot of fun. And I do like keeping my fans happy. But most of that crap is simply that—crap. My agent rags at me all the time to be pleasant, to play the part of rock star. I want to keep making music, so I do what I’ve got to do. But you’ve got to believe I draw lines. I don’t do groupies, not for a long time. Madeline was the last, uh, groupie. She, uh...she also worked as a, uh, pole dancer.” He cringed, hoping she didn’t see him as pathetic. “Not my wisest choice. I thought I could, uh...” His words trailed off.
“Reform her?” Her voice came out sharp, full of jagged edges.
Dante dragged a hand through his hair, thinking, Telling the truth sucks. “Maybe. Probably. I don’t know. Now you’re here. You. Only you. I wasn’t kidding when I said all that crazy shit in the car about how I’m going to make you mine. I mean it.”
“How can you mean that? We haven’t seen each other in ten years, and suddenly you want me? Maybe I’m the flavor of the month.”
“No! Stop it! Do you know how many years I’ve longed to see you again? I’ve written more songs for you than any man ever.”
Kennedy said nothing.
“Still there?”
“Seriously?” She practically purred in his ear.
“Swear to God, Kennedy. I’m... you’re...” He huffed out a breath. “Hell, I feel like my heart’s cracking apart. Like it’s been encased in concrete for a long, long time and now I get to feel again. Or, maybe I get to feel for the first time, ever.”
“I feel the same way.”
Every word she uttered floated through the phone and tugged at his insides. “Yeah?” He pictured her twirling a golden strand of silky hair around her finger, and his cock twitched into action.
“Yeah. Big time. It scares me how much I want you, Dante. That’s why I keep running away.”
“Well, stop running. I’m into you. I want to see where this goes, girl. I mean it. I’ve got my super sincere face on right now.” He glanced at the busy street, knowing he needed to get moving but wanting a moment of relative privacy with the girl who made him all kinds of crazy.
She laughed.
He glanced at his phone screen. “And I’ve got to jet. I’m supposed to get some more publicity shots. Can I see you later?”
“I’d like that. What time?”
“My place. Any time after seven. If I’m going to be later than that, I’ll text you. Oh—and listen to this. I nearly forgot in my desire to make you feel better over the gossip rag bullshit. It looks like someone’s skimming funds from your tiger foundation.”
“Honestly?”
“Straight up. Ryan...that’s my money guy...he’s got his forensic accountant looking into the financial records and he says something’s not lining up quite right.”
“I’m sure it’s Barnes. It has to be. He lives on Park Avenue and drives a Rolls. On a nonprofit foundation income.”
Dante felt a burn in his gut, thinking about how pissed he’d be if he even contributed a dime to the guy who gave his girlfriend so much grief. “If it is, we’ll find it. They need to be accountable to their donors. We’ll get to the bottom of it, for sure.”
“Is this part of your background check discovery?”
“Yeah,” he said, holding his hand out for a cab. “I’m so sorry I went behind your back.”
“It took me by surprise. But...thank you. Thank you for looking out for my beautiful tigers.”
“Aw, sweet Kennedy. Tigers are cool, and all, but...the person I’m looking out for is you.”
