Author: Michelle Pace
Date: 2012-11-02 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Romance; Music; New Adult; Contemporary Romance; Contemporary; Erotica; Adult; M F Romance; Musicians
Description: For years, Cheyenne Carson clawed her way up from her meager upbringing and strove to distance herself from the skeletons of her past. Finally success is within her grasp. A journalist for the music magazine, The Sound Wave, the assignment of a lifetime just landed in her lap. An all access pass to tour with the British rock band, Fury. Their latest album went triple platinum and they've never granted interviews. Once her assignment begins, Fury's tour explodes in a Molotov cocktail of sex, scandal, and violence that threatens to ruin Fury's quest for worldwide success. Can Cheyenne navigate h
Publisher: T.Coons and M.Pace

FURY

Amazon Edition

* * * *

FURY

Copyright © 2012 by Tammy Coons and Michelle Pace

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above author of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

About the Authors

TAMMYFury is dedicated to the memory of my Mom, Mary Cutler; I miss you!!! And to the four greatest people in my life; my husband, Casey, sons Skyler and Sawyer, and my daughter, Savana. Thanks for believing in me and pushing me to get Fury done. I love you!!

MICHELLE  For my mom, Joyce. Thanks for always challenging and pushing us. You believed in us long before we did. Also, this book would never have seen the light of day if not for the patience and support of my family: my husband, Les, and my three children, Holly, Bridgette, and Kai.

Lightening blazed across the panoramic view of Lake Michigan as Cheyenne logged off of her laptop. Though it was only five pm on a summer evening, the dark Chicago skyline made it seem like bedtime. Cheyenne yawned and her dark eyes surveyed the volatile sky. She loved watching storms, but her superstitious side whispered the weather might be a bad omen. Dismissing her negativity, she ran a hand through her dark hair and heaved a huge, cleansing sigh. Itching to get placed on a real assignment, she’d plowed through her work in record time. She was thrilled to be finished with the grueling pieces she’d been assigned for the current issue.

She stood and stretched, stiff from hours in front of the computer screen. Shuffling across the living room to the bar, she enthusiastically poured herself a celebratory drink. This last series of music reviews had been tedious, but Cheyenne was thankful to be working in the magazine industry. Jobs like this were scarce; the internet age had caused print magazines to become nearly obsolete. Like all her fellow writers, she hoped to get assigned to the big story her boss, Adam Brier, was being so secretive about.

Adam, the owner of The Sound Wave, claimed to be wowed by her work thus far. Cheyenne had only been working for the popular music magazine for a couple of years but she had already become one of their more active journalists. Her long hours and willingness to do any and all tasks, no matter how trivial, had distinguished her from her peers. As she sipped her glass of wine, she leaned against the bar and exhaled deeply. Though the work was sometimes mundane (and considerably less glamorous than most would imagine), she was thankful for every bit of success she had. She’d traveled a rocky path to get the position she was in, and for a fleeting moment she allowed herself to revel in how far her determination had already taken her.

Raised in a small town in Iowa, her father passed away when she was a toddler and her mom had struggled to raise her three children alone. Cheyenne’s childhood had been pleasant, if somewhat unremarkable, and she’d always fantasized about traveling the world. She’d spent a great deal of her youth with her nose in a book, but her teenage years had been full of rebellion. At age 17, she’d fallen in with a questionable crowd and started dating an older man. Twenty-one year old Steve Jacobs had been the ultimate bad boy, with a myriad of tattoos and a motorcycle. He’d played lead guitar in a local cover band and Cheyenne was the envy of half the girls in town. Initially she’d believed he was her dream man, as young girls often do, but as weeks passed he’d become increasingly abusive and controlling. A violent drunk, his binges meant she’d spent her summer wearing long sleeves to cover the bruises. Her mother, busy working two jobs to support the family, had been slow recognizing the signs. She shivered as she recalled that he’d killed a girl not long after they’d dated. She could easily have been that girl, had it not been for her mother’s intervention.

After ridding herself of Steve, Cheyenne refocused and went on to college a few hours from home in Chicago and majored in journalism. When she wasn’t reading, she was writing and had many half written novellas tucked away. Due to her family’s low income and her decent grades, she’d been fortunate to get grants and scholarships; however they hadn’t covered much more than tuition.

Her college roommate, an art major, was always raving about how gorgeous Cheyenne was. She had soon convinced Cheyenne to model for her art class. The only catch: she would have to get naked. For weeks Cheyenne tried to push the idea out of her mind, but the thought of her mom working herself to death to support her academic ambitions drove her to cross that line.

Not long after, she fell into stripping and discovered it was a quick way to support herself and pay off the rest of her school costs. Although she often felt like a dreadful cliché, she’d been elated to take the financial strain off of her mom. Stripping had also been great for her writing; she’d met a lot of interesting people. Unfortunately, she was also forced to deal with unwelcome touching and on a couple of occasions, violent customers. Her coworkers educated her that this “was just part of the drill.” The day she graduated college she found herself wearing sunglasses to hide a black eye. Though she’d never been ashamed of her choice to strip, she’d been relieved to have that era of her life behind her.

Moving back home with her mom, Cheyenne began working for the town newspaper covering stories about farming, school activities, and local interest pieces. Though she’d been happy to be writing, this job had been far from her dream. A music buff, her ultimate goal had been to write about the music industry. In her free time Cheyenne took in all the live music she could. The bands had never seemed to mind that she hung around and absorbed the scene. Her attentive eyes missed very little and she fell in love with the atmosphere. Her penchant for being drawn to bad boys led to a couple more disappointing relationships and soon made her establish a creed: no dating anyone in a band.

When she’d finally found the courage to return to the city, her mom fell ill. After a life of self-sacrifice and busting her ass, Cheyenne’s mom had been rewarded with breast cancer. Now her mother’s caretaker, Cheyenne embraced the role wholeheartedly. Watching the woman who’d been her rock deteriorate like a withering flower had been heart wrenching; even thinking back on it now, the memory pierced her heart and brought tears to her eyes. She’d often marveled that she survived the experience without losing her mind.

Cheyenne’s mom had passed away three years ago. With no will, her older brother and sister made short work of selling all their mother’s possessions. The only thing she’d managed to save was a sapphire ring she’d given her mom years before. The ring held a special place in Cheyenne’s heart and helped keep her feeling connected to her.

Shortly after the funeral, she packed up all of her belongings and left for Chicago, where she began working at a small newspaper. Cheyenne hadn’t returned to her hometown and never intended to. An old schoolmate hooked her up with a small music magazine and she began freelancing articles on local bands. The work was an absolute blast, but not lucrative. Waiting tables on the side, she managed to make a living but was always on the lookout for a real career in her chosen profession. Not long after, her life had taken a drastic turn, and she had been thrust into the position of her dreams.

An empty wine glass pulled Cheyenne back to the present. As she turned to pour herself another, she looked over the bar and glanced at herself in the mirrored backsplash.

“I look like hell,” she murmured to her own reflection. Her long hair was pulled back in a tight braid with loose pieces falling out all over the place, which she remedied. Shaking out her dark mane, she inspected her reflection hoping for improvement and grimaced. At that moment, she looked older than twenty-six; her dark eyes appeared worn and puffy from sleep deprivation. Cheyenne shook away her negative thoughts. She often got emotional when she was tired and this was a time for celebration. She wanted company, and went in search of her roommate.

“Stephanie!” she called, but heard no answer. Wandering the large apartment, she called her name again. The penthouse was well decorated, modern and tasteful. Under closer inspection, one would notice the missing pieces of artwork Kevin, Stephanie’s ex, had taken when he’d moved out. Cheyenne proceeded to the master bathroom that Stephanie often made her darkroom. When she read the sign on the door, she snorted:

WORKING: DO NOT DISTURB OR I WILL BE FORCED TO KILL YOU!!!

Cheyenne grinned and shook her head. Steph’s theatrical approach to the world rarely ceased to amuse her. Meandering back into the living room, she ordered take out from their favorite Chinese restaurant. As she waited for them to deliver, she curled up on the cozy leather couch. She felt indulgent surrounded by Steph’s beautiful things. As she watched the show Mother Nature was putting on over the lake, she recollected how life had changed dramatically since first meeting Steph.

Roughly two years before, Cheyenne had stumbled on her big break while reading a competitor’s paper. There’d been an ad for a part-time paid internship in the journalism department at The Sound Wave. The biggest and hottest magazine in Chicago, The Sound Wave interviewed up and coming bands, popular artists, reviewed music—the works. Cheyenne remembered how her hands shook as she’d typed out her resume. After a brutal interview and a torturous week of waiting by the phone, she’d been offered the position. During Cheyenne’s second week at The Sound Wave she’d met Adam Brier, a middle aged, auburn haired Irishman. Cheyenne towered over him in heels and she was only 5’8. Adam was a jovial fellow with a reputation for losing his temper in spectacular fashion. Owner and editor in chief, Adam had been around the music scene for decades and counted many rock legends as his personal friends. Even so, he insisted on personally meeting every new writer and giving them a tour.

As he’d guided Cheyenne on her tour, he’d mentioned his daughter Stephanie was working in one of the studios that morning. With no shortage of fatherly pride, he’d gushed that she was one of the best photographers The Sound Wave had.

Cheyenne was already all too familiar with Stephanie Brier’s reputation. The other interns had loved to tell stories about Steph’s talent and her temper, which she’d apparently inherited from her father. Stephanie only worked part time for The Sound Wave, she freelanced the rest. At the tender age of 25, she was already a bit of an industry legend, and had often been referred to her as a prodigy. Steph’s mother had been a world renowned rock and roll photographer, and Steph had been weaned on the art form. Tagging along since before she could walk or talk, she knew practically everyone noteworthy in the business. As Adam had ushered Cheyenne through the studio door that day, she’d felt butterflies as she’d anticipated her introduction to the young woman she’d heard so much about.

“We must be very quiet,” Adam had whispered to Cheyenne as they entered the dark studio. He’d sounded a bit like Elmer Fudd and Cheyenne had been forced to bite her lip to stifle a laugh, “She gets a little testy when interrupted.”

Cheyenne palms had been sweaty so she’d wiped them on her dark pants; many of Stephanie’s CD covers were in her own collection. Loud music had pulsed throughout the room and Cheyenne had struggled not to cough as they’d walked through a wall of manmade fog. “That’s Steph.” Adam had beamed, as he’d pointed to a petite red head yelling at frazzled client.

“Yo, Johnny!” Stephanie dropped her camera from her face with a scowl and placed a hand on her hip. “I said put the snake around your neck.”

“But I didn’t want the snake. I wanted a tiger,” Johnny had whined in a thick Scottish accent.

“Sorry, the local tiger-for-rent is unavailable, so you’re out of luck. But Gerald thinks the snake makes you look like a badass, don’t you?” Steph had looked to Gerald, her assistant, who’d nodded his bald head as if he had never seen such a marvelous site. Stephanie crossed to the actor and hoisted the huge snake around his neck, leaving Cheyenne marveling at the strength of the small woman. On Steph’s way back to the camera she’d waved at Cheyenne and Adam.

“God, I hate snakes.” Stephanie winced as she held her temple. Gerald appeared at her side, and Steph handed him her camera. .

“Take over, would you?” Gerald nodded and Stephanie made her way to where her father and Cheyenne sat. Unapologetically, she’d looked Cheyenne up and down.

“Are you the model for the 3:00 shoot? Steph had asked. Cheyenne’s response had been simply to grin through gritted teeth. Some people thought good looks gave women an edge in the business world; Cheyenne often felt the opposite was true. In the early days of her career, she downplayed her looks in order to be taken more seriously. By the time she joined The Sound Wave, she’d given up such endeavors.

“No, Stephanie. This is Cheyenne Carson. She’s the latest addition to the writing staff. This is my daughter.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Cheyenne had shaken Steph’s hand enthusiastically.

“Likewise.” A woman handed Steph pills and a glass of water.

In the background Johnny had cried out, “Ah, I think this snake is squeezing me!”

From their first encounter, Steph and Cheyenne had become fast friends. Like Cheyenne, Steph was a survivor, though the cards she’d had been dealt seemed altogether easier to play than Cheyenne’s.

Steph had been working for the magazine for years and she was only 25. The staff resented her; most claimed she lacked education and only worked there because her father was the owner. Cheyenne knew this notion was preposterous. With a portfolio like hers, she could have worked anywhere she chose. Steph didn’t socialize at the magazine; the one exception was her assistant, Gerald. Soon Cheyenne joined in on Ger and Steph’s nights on the town. The latest gossip was that Cheyenne had been hired because Adam wanted to sleep with her, so she was already a bit of a social pariah at The Sound Wave. Cheyenne was thrilled to finally have a clique.

Incredibly flamboyant, Gerald was always great for a laugh. Steph turned out to be the driest, most sarcastic person Cheyenne had ever encountered. On the three misfits’ outings, the topics of conversation were typically one of the following: work, fashion, Gerald’s latest sexual conquests, and Steph’s on-again, off-again relationship with a movie star. Soon Steph and Cheyenne were going out without Gerald, who was newly ‘in love’. The two outcasts began having lengthy conversations over dinner and drinks. Steph’s live in boyfriend was often either “in the doghouse” or out of town on location. Though her outer veneer proved tough as nails, Steph seemed lonely.

Despite the fact she’d been raised with money and privilege, Steph had experienced her share of tragedy. Like Cheyenne, she’d also lost her mother . Her only brother, Cedric, lived in Europe and had no interest in the family business. Adam was hell bent on grooming her to take over The Sound Wave, but business was not Steph’s strong suit due to her blatant contempt for most human beings. She’d told Cheyenne she’d done her best to play the role Adam had thrust upon her, and had spent her early career being used by social climbers and sycophants. It was obvious that years of work politics had bruised and hardened her, but watching her with her father and hearing her discuss her brother, Cheyenne believed that underneath Steph’s bristly exterior, lived a fiercely loyal girl.

A slamming door interrupted Cheyenne’s musing, and Steph strutted in, making a grand entrance as always.

“Well, Hells Bells! I didn’t get more than two shots of Alice Rae that don’t make her look like Pippy Longstocking.” As diminutive as Steph was, her presence in a room seemed mammoth.

“They say the camera doesn’t lie. I guess you’ll just have to use those two pictures,” Cheyenne stated matter-of-factly, and took a sip of her drink.

“Yeah, I guess…” Steph grumbled, sinking onto the couch. Her angelic features looked drawn and she seemed pensive and distracted.

“What’s bothering you?” Cheyenne could read Steph like a book and didn’t like what she was seeing.

“It’s this friggin mystery story. Dad’s acting like it’s a top secret conspiracy.”

“Won’t budge, huh?”

“I don’t understand. It’s just an assignment. Whoopty Doo.” Steph fidgeted with her necklace. She cast a sideways glance at Cheyenne. “I think he’s giving it to you, by the way.”

“Really?” Cheyenne beamed and sat down her drink a little too quickly, sloshing wine on herself. She barely noticed. “He told you that?”

“No…but he asked if you have a passport. He’s stringing everyone else along; making the staff squirm. It’s gotta be something special if he won’t tell me.

In the soft light of their apartment, Cheyenne noticed Steph looked paler than usual and realized she had bags under her sapphire eyes.

“Ok.” Cheyenne pushed her excitement aside and absently blotted her shirt with a napkin. “Want to tell me what’s really bothering you?”

“Not particularly.” Steph took a cigarette from Cheyenne, placed it between her full lips, and lit it. She coughed and made a face, but didn’t put it out. Cheyenne blinked in astonishment.

“Since when do you smoke?”

“Since Kevin called me this morning.” Steph walked over to the bar and grabbed a beer.

“What the hell did he want?” Cheyenne bit down on several choice swear words; her dark eyes were flashing.

“He wanted to let me know how things were going, you know, typical Kevin. The film should wrap this month.” Steph shrugged and took a long pull off of her beer.

“And?” Just thinking about Steph’s ex made her livid.

“And he said we need to talk.” Steph took another drink.

“What’s there to discuss? He needed his space and you gave it to him, end of story.” Cheyenne crossed to the bar to get a better read on Steph’s face.

“He claims he’s had ‘a lot of time to think’. You know how he is, blathering on…as if he has his own film crew following him around.” Steph stared studiously at the label of her beer.

“I guess four months constitutes ‘a lot of time’.” Cheyenne’s tone was biting. “You’re not going to fall for his bullshit, are you?”

Steph looked up at her and it pleased Cheyenne to see anger simmering in her blue eyes. “You mean let him back into my life? Not a chance in hell! Especially since he’s been sleeping with anyone he can get his hands on. It’s on the cover of every tabloid.”

“Good!” Cheyenne snapped. Kevin Wiley was a manipulative creep and Cheyenne despised him.

“But I am curious to hear what he has to say.” She wouldn’t meet Cheyenne’s eyes.

“No,Steph! Don’t you see how this works by now?” Cheyenne walked behind the bar to face her friend head on. As she looked down at her, Steph’s body language reminded her of a kid being reprimanded. “How many times have we been over this? He’ll tell you things were perfect before and you’ll get temporary amnesia and believe him.”

“Ok, Mom.” Steph’s teen-like angst would have made her laugh in most circumstances, but Kevin was no laughing matter. “You have no faith in my intelligence.”

“Not when it comes to Kevin,” Cheyenne agreed. “The man deserves an Olympic medal he’s played so many head games with you. I bet you still carry pictures of him.”

Cheyenne walked to the table and yanked Steph’s wallet from her purse. Opening it, she found three pictures of Kevin. She held them up as if they were exhibits in a court case.

“I haven’t had a chance to clean it out.” Steph’s shoulders slumped and she looked defeated.

“Wow.” Cheyenne shook her head in disbelief. Steph’s cell phone rang and Cheyenne dashed toward it.

“If it’s him I’m hanging up,” Cheyenne stated. She picked up the phone swiftly and answered. “Stephanie Brier’s phone.”

“Cheyenne?” It’s Adam. How are you this fine evening?” The melodious tone of his Irish accent always made Cheyenne smile.

“I’m fine. One moment…” Intrigued, Cheyenne and Steph looked at each other.

“Hi, Dad. What’s up?” Steph stood up tall and she looked suddenly all business as she placed him on speaker phone.

“Hello, Bonnie.” Adam’s brogue caress and his nickname made Steph crack a smile. “I want you both at the staff meeting 9:00 Monday morning.”

“Why do you want me at a writers meeting?” Steph raised an eyebrow at Cheyenne.

“I’ll see you both then.” The phone line went dead.

“Peculiar...” Steph’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

“It sure is…but were not done talking about Pretty Boy,” Cheyenne added, remembering the dire situation at hand.

“I’m going to listen to what he has to say—that’s the bottom line,” Steph replied, hands on her hips. “I’m an adult and I can handle it.”

“If you’re sure you know what you are doing.” Cheyenne sighed. “Just try not to get hair product all over yourself.”

“I’ve got this.” Steph casually put out the cigarette she had taken from Cheyenne after barely taking a puff. Cheyenne gave a supportive nod and silently hoped she was right.

“Wanna celebrate? Looks like you’ve wrapped up your assignment too.” Steph nodded at Cheyenne’s closed laptop. Steph popped open two beers and Cheyenne took one, forcing a grin.

“Sure.” She knew there was no way she’d be able to talk Steph out of seeing Kevin; she was far more stubborn than Cheyenne.

As she returned to the penthouse from the gym Monday morning, Cheyenne’s stomach was in knots. Frayed nerves left her nauseated and she thought it best to skip breakfast. Closing the door, she locked it behind her. Steph sprawled on the couch, still in her cherry covered pajamas, with a plate of food on her lap and a phone to one ear. Her shoulder length red hair was wild from a night of sleep, and she had her feet slung casually on the two thousand dollar coffee table. Cheyenne shook her head, astonished at Steph’s lack of urgency. After living with her for the last four months, she still couldn’t get over how casually she approached the world.

Continuing around the corner into their gourmet kitchen, Cheyenne chugged a glass of water and poured a cup of coffee. She glanced at the plate of food Steph had left for her and abandoned it, returning to the living room. Joining Steph on the couch with her coffee,,it only took a moment of listening to her side of the conversation before it was obvious she was talking to Gerald.

“OK, Ger Bear, I will see you in about an hour.” She hung up.

“Our self-proclaimed ‘Gay Gossip Monger’ says that there have been closed door meetings at the office all weekend. Gotta’ tell ya, Chey…this whole thing is really odd.”

“What do you mean?”

“All this cloak and dagger crap is way over the top. Mark my words: something unusual is afoot.” Steph dug into her food.

Cheyenne pondered Steph’s comment. Nothing seemed to faze Stephanie, professionally or otherwise, which made the upcoming meeting all the more exciting. In fact, she’d only remembered seeing Steph appear shaken once.

Four months earlier, Cheyenne had received a frantic late night phone call from Stephanie. For the most part, Steph’s sobs had been unintelligible, but Cheyenne could make out one word, Kevin. She’d caught a cab and hurried over.

“He says he needs space,” Stephanie had blurted as she flung open the door. “But what he’s basically saying is he wants to screw around while on location in Mexico.”

Cheyenne had rolled her eyes and sat her purse down.

“You don’t know that, Steph.” Though she was certain Steph was right. Her boyfriend, Kevin, was a ridiculously popular movie actor. Steph had met him when she’d been only 21 on a soundstage in Hollywood, and he’d swept her off her feet. Kevin’s talent wasn’t acting; it was making a great first impression. Having starred in several major films since he’d started dating Steph, he was starting to believe his own press. Cheyenne had long suspected that dating Steph was a career move on Kevin’s part. Her industry contacts and reputation were light years beyond his.

Steph was quite a catch and, in Cheyenne’s opinion, she could do much better. Her striking looks turned heads everywhere they went. With dark blue eyes and a heart shaped face, she had a deceptively innocent and baby doll-like quality. She had wavy dark red hair that hit her shoulders and a curvy figure. She and Cheyenne were such a contrast. Cheyenne had a dark complexion, very long brown hair, and matching brown eyes. Tall and svelte, Steph had not been the only person to mistake Cheyenne for a model.

“This isn’t the first time. Don’t defend him Cheyenne. I know how much you hate him.”

“That much is true.” Cheyenne had lit a cigarette and settled into her seat.

“To be honest with you, I’m not even sad about it. I’m just so angry with myself! I kicked him out this time.”

“Good for you. He’s a user and an asshole!”

They’d talked into the wee hours, and it was that night that Cheyenne had opened up to Steph about her past. She’d wanted her to understand that she wasn’t the only one who’d been raked over the coals by a manipulative man. She spilled her guts about the abuse, her sordid work history, and her family issues. By the time Cheyenne had finished her story they were both crying. Having both lost their mothers and their trust issues, the two young women managed to forge an exceptional bond. Though incredibly different in temperaments and backgrounds, their very fundamental commonalities superseded their differences. That night had been the true beginning of a solid friendship.

A week later Cheyenne moved in. At first, she worried that people would assume she was using Steph as Kevin had. Steph had dismissed her concerns outright, reminding Cheyenne that “those whores” at The Sound Wave were going to talk shit about her regardless of what she did. Steph had shared an incredible, pimped out apartment with Kevin, who’d rarely been in Chicago. Since he was officially out of the picture, Steph claimed she didn’t want the space to go to waste. Cheyenne’s roommate was getting engaged, so the offer was timely. Their apartment was huge with two bedrooms and two bathrooms. It overlooked Lake Michigan with a rooftop pool, an on-site gym and underground secure parking. Cheyenne felt like royalty living there.

After readying themselves for the big meeting, they sped off in Steph’s black Chrysler 300. Steph donned dark mirrored sunglasses and blasted hip hop music, bobbing her head along to the beat. Though Steph truly was bad assed, with her cherubic features, she looked more like a pixie playing dress up as a ‘gangsta’. She seemed unconcerned as other drivers blasted their horns at her. Trying not to bite her newly manicured nails, Cheyenne secretly hoped they would make it to the office in one piece. Steph’s aggressive and competitive nature really rose to the surface when she drove. Cheyenne knew she could always count on their morning commute to involve much honking and many obscene gestures.

Against all reason, they made it to The Sound Wave alive and early. Cheyenne and Steph took their seats quietly in the main conference room, lovingly referred to as “The War Room”. It was a fitting moniker. The War Room was typically a battleground, as journalists pitched story ideas at a fevered pace. It was up to Shirley, the senior editor, and Adam to decide which story lived or died, and who would be assigned to what.

As the writers began to file in, Cheyenne noticed the atmosphere in the room was more sedate than usual. The rest of the writing staff regarded Stephanie with an amusing mix of shock, awe, disdain, and confusion. They were clearly as perplexed at her presence at the meeting as she’d been about being invited. Steph slouched in her chair, checked twitter on her phone, and ignored everyone as if they were pieces of furniture. Cheyenne mused at her friend, finding her attitude toward most people borderline sociopathic. Her boredom blatant, Steph looked at Cheyenne and sighed.

“Dad is always on time. It’s 5 after 9.”

“The wait is killing me,” Cheyenne whispered, managing to keep her expression calm. She bounced her knee under the table rapidly, feeling so hyper and agitated that she swore she could have run a marathon.

As if on cue, Adam walked in the room. Following closely behind him was a dark, debonair looking man whom she’d never seen before. With graying temples and startling eyes, he seemed to have a palpable effect on the staff. He appeared to be in his forties and carried himself with a confident air. Cheyenne and Steph exchanged knowing glances, trading thoughts like only best friends can. This man had to be the person Adam had been meeting with all weekend.

“First order of business today is the upcoming anniversary edition. The feature story is going to be Fury’s first US tour,” Adam announced.

“We’ve all pitched a Fury article at one time or another. They won’t talk to us,” one of the male writers, Bill, replied dismissively. Cheyenne remembered how he’d tried to feel her up at the Christmas party and suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. She didn’t date coworkers, and since she was almost always working, she didn’t date much at all.

“Allow me to introduce Ian Corneilius,” Adam continued as if Bill were invisible; his tone of voice was more formal than Cheyenne had ever remembered it being.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all.” Ian’s flowing British accent dazzled the room. He seemed to ooze grace and charm, but Cheyenne immediately got a bad vibe from him. He turned his attention back to Adam.

“Mr. Corneilius is Fury’s manager,” Adam stated. Cheyenne noticed everyone in the room snapped to attention. On instinct, she sat forward in her seat.

“I assume you are all familiar with Fury,” Adam continued matter-of-factly. Evidently he was not blind to the mood shift of his staff.

“Y…Yes of course,” Cheyenne stammered, then quickly recovered. “You would have to be a hermit not to be.” She’d reviewed their second album two issues before and loved it. Fury was a wildly popular band in Europe and Asia and quickly proving themselves on the American charts.

“It was my understanding they don’t grant interviews…to anyone,” Cheyenne continued, and for once the other writers in the room nodded in agreement.

“That’s all about to change,” Ian started, and as his eyes focused on hers, Cheyenne’s gut told her there was something cold and calculating behind his smooth exterior.

“The mysterious persona they’ve created has generated a lot of buzz. Fans love an enigma. They’ve become incredibly popular,” Adam acknowledged.

“Fury has decided to break their ban on interviews in lieu of the impending American tour,” Ian chimed in.

Suddenly Adam’s behavior over the last few weeks made sense. Cheyenne understood his need to fly under the radar; everyone in the business would want this story. Fury was the “it” group. They were five scorching hot guys, and their music was intelligent, sensual, and wildly popular. Fury music was a fusion of rock, pop, and funk and they were definitely a standout. The room hummed with excitement.

“Moving along...” Steph sighed impatiently, not looking up from her cell phone. “Why are we all here?”

“Fury has requested The Sound Wave to tell their story,” Ian replied, raising an eyebrow at Steph.

“Why not Rolling Stone or Billboard?” asked a pretty blonde writer. Her cloyingly sweet southern accent made Cheyenne grit her teeth. According to Gerald’s sources, she was the one who had started the rumor that Adam wanted to sleep with Cheyenne.

“It seems one of the band members is an avid photographer and a fan of one of our photographers,” Adam said pointedly, at his daughter. The tension in the room increased. Cheyenne kicked Stephanie under the table, and she stopped texting and looked up at everyone, oblivious.

“That would be you, Stephanie,” her father said with a sigh. Cheyenne had seen this look on Adam’s face from time to time and presumed he wanted to wring Steph’s neck.

“Cheyenne, I‘m sending you on this assignment.” Adam carefully made eye contact with each of the writers around the conference table. “It’s come to my attention that she does twice as much work as the rest of you, so I am going to need you all to pick up the slack. Shirley is reassigning some pieces accordingly.”

Shirley, his senior editor, winked at Cheyenne. Her expression was that of pure amusement.

“I’ll take over the meeting now to reassign Cheyenne’s current assignments,” Shirley announced.

“Cheyenne, Stephanie. With us, please.” Adam waved his hand toward the hall. Steph and Cheyenne followed Adam and Ian; Cheyenne spared a glance at the glass wall of the conference room, and smiled at the rest of the writing staff, who were staring daggers at her. If looks could kill, Cheyenne suspected she’d have been in pieces somewhere in the Chicago River. Adam led them to his office.

As reality set in, Cheyenne suddenly felt numb. This would be her first cover story, and it took all her effort to contain her composure. She willed her legs to stop shaking as she tried desperately to appear confident. The moment the door closed, Ian’s demeanor changed.

“It’s no secret that I am not crazy about this entire idea, and I definitely have some concerns,” Ian started, looking directly at Steph.

“I can assure you, Mr. Corneilius, these girls may be young, but they’re seasoned,” Adam murmured. Cheyenne knew Steph’s lack of perceived interest had agitated Ian. Cheyenne assumed Ian was trying to clear the air before they were on the road.

“You will be traveling with Fury in their inner circle. With small exceptions, you have full access to the boys for the last month of our European tour.” Ian took a seat near the window. Adam shot Steph another look as she put her phone away. Cheyenne thought this look seemed to say ‘if you don’t speak up I’m going to slap you’.

Steph shifted in her seat.

“You have nothing to worry about on our end, Mr. Corneilius,” she chimed in unenthusiastically.

That’s my girl. Better late than never, Cheyenne thought.

“It’s a relief to hear you say that. To be frank, it’s not you I’m worried about. It’s them,” Ian added quickly, detecting the ice in her reply. It was, after all, Steph that had brought the band to The Sound Wave. Cheyenne could see he was egotistical, but no fool.

“Being a manager is a bit like raising children. Very spoiled children,” Ian added.

“It is essential that the story be finished and in the Anniversary Issue. Fury’s American tour begins in October in New York,” Adam said.

“Are there any questions?” Ian looked from Cheyenne to Steph.

“When do we leave?” Steph stood.

“In three days. You should plan to be gone for 4 weeks.” Adam smiled. He seemed relieved that the meeting was concluding.

Cheyenne’s heart raced. She’d always wanted to travel to Europe, and to do so for a cover story was her dream come true.

“Have you informed Gerald?” Steph asked.

“There has been someone else assigned to assist you.” Adam’s blunt retort took Cheyenne off guard.

“I always have Gerald with me.” Steph’s brow knitted and Cheyenne braced herself for a scene.

“Not this time. You’ll get to meet her at the airport.”

Steph opened her mouth to complain, but Cheyenne shot her a withering look and so she said nothing. Relief washed over Cheyenne as she realized her friend would hold her tongue for the first time in recorded history.

“Who is she?” Steph’s voice was level.

“An intern,” Adam stated.

“You’re sending an intern…on this story...” Steph said each word slowly.

“Don’t fight me on this one, Stephanie, I have made my decision.” Adam’s skin flushed all the way up to his receding hairline.

“Which intern?” Cheyenne tried to remember the names of any of the photography interns..

“She’s from our L.A. office. She goes by the name of Goddess. If this assignment goes well, she’ll be offered a permanent position.” Cheyenne chuckled a little at the intern’s ridiculous name and Steph shot her a dirty look.

“Well, Ladies, if that’s all, I’ll see you in London in a few days.” Steph and Cheyenne both stood and shook Ian’s hand. “Mr. Brier has your plane tickets and itinerary for the remainder of the tour.”

Ian seemed to force a smile and exited the office. Five quiet seconds later, Steph stormed out of the office mumbling all the way.

“Thanks, Mr. Brier. I really appreciate the opportunity,” Cheyenne gushed. Her face already ached from smiling.

“You’re welcome, I’m sure the story will be amazing,” Adam’s attention had already shifted to a pile of paperwork. He waved her out of the office.

“Don’t worry about Steph, I’ll talk to her,” Cheyenne added as she left the room. He looked up from his paperwork and Cheyenne could swear he had a grateful expression on his face.

Cheyenne practically skipped to Steph’s corner office. She was actually going on a real assignment! Pride swelled in her until she was sure she would burst. As she neared Steph’s office she could see her through the glass, pacing and gesticulating wildly. Gerald was with her, watching the entire scene unhappily. Even though the office was fairly soundproof, Cheyenne could hear her ranting. Suddenly, Steph grabbed the phone and Gerald stepped out of Steph’s office; he shook his head, looking at Cheyenne.

“Girl…” He snapped his fingers in a z formation. His handsome black features lit up a little at her fortune. “You two are going to owe me big time. I expect you to come back with naked pictures and DNA, leaving me behind while you are hangin’ with such fine looking men.”

Cheyenne shrugged apologetically. She noticed the staff in the surrounding cubicles were staring and murmuring to each other as the chaos in Steph’s office continued. Cheyenne hurried to join her. Steph held her head and spoke loudly into the telephone.

“I can’t believe you are doing this to me, Dad!” Steph shouted. She slammed the phone onto the desk.

“Goddess? Are you serious?” she asked Cheyenne. Steph took an exaggerated breath.

Cheyenne cleared her throat. She knew the question was rhetorical.

“Want to talk about it?”

“No, I’m going for a drink.” Steph brushed past her and grabbed her purse.

“It’s 10:30 in the morning.”

“It’s five o’ clock somewhere, Chey.”

“Do you want some company?”

“Suit yourself,” Steph grumbled. Cheyenne sighed and trailed after her.

“What’s the big deal?” Cheyenne whispered as they walked past droves of gaping staff members toward the elevators.

“He never asks me what I think about things…he just wants me to do as he commands.”

“Ah...this is about control,” Cheyenne murmured.

“No. It’s about respect.”

“Well, heis your boss.” Steph’s glare in response was deadly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

Steph said nothing in return. Cheyenne joined her in the elevator, wishing she could enjoy the assignment without Stephanie’s diva drama.

Cheyenne woke with a start, her eyes anxiously darting around. Realizing where she was, she stretched and relaxed back in her seat. Their flight was packed. The hum of the engines had lulled most of the first class passengers to sleep, including Steph who was curled up in the window seat next to her. Cheyenne unbuckled her seatbelt and headed toward the bathrooms. Finding one unoccupied, she entered and locked the door behind her.

Cringing at her appearance, she took out her hair brush and raked it through her thick hair. The last three days had been a whirlwind. Cheyenne remembered how she’d chuckled when Adam mentioned the name of the intern photographer and how she’d almost laughed out loud when she and Steph had met her in the flesh. Goddess towered over them; she was at least six feet tall and weighed about 225 pounds of solid muscle. Seeming a bit old to be an intern, Cheyenne estimated her to be approaching thirty. She wore enough make-up for 5 women and Cheyenne thought she looked like a Punk Rock clown; Goddess had shaggy blonde hair with many multicolored pieces scattered throughout and her style of dress seemed to be a weird mixture of Goth and Heavy Metal.

“What?” Goddess had asked, looking down at herself.

Cheyenne had realized that she and Steph had been staring at her as if she were an alien.

“I’m Cheyenne,” she’d replied, stepping forward to take the giant female’s hand. “This is Stephanie. We’ll be working on the Fury assignment together.”

“I can’t wait!” Goddess had exclaimed, and her overly made up face lit up. “I love Fury; English guys make me crazy!”

As Cheyenne returned to her seat, she thought about how Goddess instantly annoyed Steph. She wondered if Steph was a little intimidated because they’d looked through Goddess’s portfolio and her work was quite good.

Cheyenne spotted Goddess hunched over her laptop, seemingly the only other passenger awake. Cheyenne waved to her.

“Hi.” Goddess took out her earbuds. “It’s so cool that we get to fly first class, Ian’s sure a nice guy for upgrading us.”

Cheyenne smiled and nodded.

As she took her seat, Steph stirred and opened her blue blood shot eyes. Cheyenne fidgeted and popped a piece of nicotine gum in her mouth. Steph seemed to notice.

“I bet your dying for a cig.”

“Yep,” Cheyenne agreed. She’d been trying to cut back, but the pressure of the Fury story already gripped her. “At least we only have an hour left before we land.”

A flight attendant approached them wearing a gracious smile.

“May I offer you ladies a drink?”

“Yes, please.” Steph pointed to her favorite beer.

Cheyenne eyed Steph.

“I’ll have the same, thanks.” The flight attendant nodded. Handing them their drinks, she quickly moved on. As she retreated, Cheyenne teased, “Still pissy?”

“I have to admit I don’t know how I feel about taking on this assignment without my regular assistant. We’re all creatures of habit, I guess.”

“Think of it this way,” Cheyenne countered her tone playful. “You won’t be home when Kevin gets back.”

Stephanie looked out the window thoughtfully.

“Do you think I should get my hair done like that?” she asked, pointing to Goddess’s multi colored coif.

Cheyenne almost choked on her drink. “Oh yes, and your nails would look lovely with skull and cross bone decals.”

Goddess looked up and caught them watching her. “What?” she asked, taking out her ear buds again.

“How did you get the name Goddess?” Steph asked before Cheyenne could silence her.

“One of my many boyfriends gave it to me,” Goddess replied with a shrug. “Speaking of men, I can’t wait to get my hands on Bret Williams. I have a thing for guitar players.”

“Isn’t he married?” Steph asked Cheyenne, who responded with a nod.

“Who cares?” Goddess replied.

Steph took a long swig of her beer.

“And there ya have it, folks,” she muttered as she glanced at Cheyenne who blinked in astonishment. This was definitely going to be an interesting adventure.

After landing at Heathrow, making their way through customs was fairly painless. As they approached the exit, they found that Ian had sent a limo for them. Ironically, the driver held up a sign with one word: Goddess. While Cheyenne (giddy from lack of sleep) found this hysterical, Stephanie did not appear to be amused.

Entering the hotel lobby of The Connaught was a stunning experience for Cheyenne; she’d never stayed in anything more regal than a Holiday Inn Express. A stately six story establishment, the hotel had a domed lobby and an enormous staircase with painstakingly maintained wood work. To Cheyenne, the place was everything she envisioned in a fine European inn, from its Michelin starred restaurant to its Asian style spa. Delighted, she read the brochure and found that an indoor pool had been added in the latest remodel. The marble floors made every footstep echo. Wealthy travelers were bustling about in every direction, and Cheyenne was suddenly invigorated by the activity.

“Wow,” she said stunned. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, wanting to remember the smell of freshly starched clean linens.

“It’s lovely isn’t it?” Ian asked from behind her. She gave a small nod, trying not to appear as unworldly as she felt.

“Is this place bitchin’ or what?” Goddess cracked her gum and Cheyenne shot her a disapproving look. With Goddess around she doubted anyone would think she was small time.

“Did you get the keys? She bumbled on, seeming oblivious.

“Yes,” Ian replied, handing her a room key.

“Cool.” Goddess beamed. “Catch ya later.”

Steph opened her mouth to say something but Cheyenne pinched her.

“Yeowch! I’m going to go check out the pool.” Steph plucked a room key from Cheyenne’s hand with a look of admonishment and disappeared.

“When can we meet the band?” Cheyenne took the room key from Ian.

“We have a show tonight, so probably tomorrow around 10 a.m. Here’s that information you asked for.” Ian handed a folder to Cheyenne.

“Sounds good.” Cheyenne really wanted a hot bath, a cold beer, a cigarette and sleep.

“Here are your tickets to tonight’s show. I’m sorry, but the press passes will have to wait.”

“That’s fine.” Though it struck her as out of the ordinary, she was too tired to ask questions.

“Let me give you my room number if you need anything.” He scribbled and s he handed her a piece of paper, their skin touched. Cheyenne was surprised at how unpleasant the sensation was; she willed herself to smile as she nearly shivered with disgust. Though she wasn’t sure why, something about him bothered her, and she had learned to trust her instincts. Perhaps she was jet lagged. To her relief, he turned and walked into one of the elevators.

“Ma’am would you like me to take your bags to your room?” the bellhop said from behind her, bringing her out of her sleepy fog.

“Yes please. Room 527, thank you,” she said, suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude. Cheyenne followed the map in the brochure until she arrived at the sliding glass doors that led to the pool area.

The smell of the fresh water pool hit her nostrils, waking her up a little more. The huge pool seemed to call her name, inviting in its ultra-modern splendor. Spotting Steph, she meandered in her direction. Steph stood close to the pool talking to a group of teenage girls. They all seemed enamored by something in the distance. Cheyenne squinted in the same direction; she noticed the glass ceiling and thought to herself how beautiful it must be at night. She spotted a figure standing on a terrace a couple of floors up.

The figure looked in their direction, waved, and vanished.

“Oh, my God…I think that was Scot!”

Cheyenne realized the figure must have been Scot Charles, the bassist from Fury.

“I’m surprised he’d show his face outside the room,” Steph murmured as they walked back through the glass doors and onto the closest elevator.

“I think it’s sad.” Cheyenne eyes narrowed. “They can’t just walk down the street like us. Must be annoying at times.”

Steph shrugged.

“When we get to the room we need to regroup. Ian just gave me a little information and a few photos. We have a few hours before the concert tonight.”

“For the love of God…” Steph groaned.

They exited the elevator and found their room. After ogling the gorgeous décor for a few moments, Cheyenne grabbed her notebook and set up her laptop.

“You better get some sleep before the concert.” Cheyenne lit her cigarette and inhaled deeply, as if she hadn’t smoked in years. She wasn’t sure if the hotel allowed smoking, but threw caution to the wind to protect her sanity. “The last thing you need is a migraine.”

“No, I’ll be fine, but I’m already tired of Goddess,” Steph commented as they heard loud music coming from the next room. “She’s like fingernails down my chalkboard.”

“You’re just tired. We’ve got four weeks with her so you’d better get over it.” Cheyenne began typing.

“How can you be so tolerant of her? She’s ridiculous.”

Cheyenne laughed lightly as she pulled out a folder. “Forget about her, let’s go over the information we have on Fury.”

“Alright.” Steph flopped onto the bed and purred with delight. “This mattress is orgasmic. I need one.”

“Down to business, Stephanie. W Fury won three Grammy awards and maybe the most popular band of the decade so far…” Cheyenne typed away.

“I think their videos have a lot to do with it. They’re really creative.”

“They are far more popular in Europe than in the US,” Cheyenne added.

“All we know for sure is that they are elusive and perhaps publicity geniuses. To hear Ian tell it, that’s his idea, not theirs. Still, sales on their new album ‘Freudian Slip’ were triple platinum in pre orders,” Steph offered.” And it has already produced two top ten singles.”

“Ok, what do we know about the band members?” Cheyenne asked aloud, looking up at the ceiling as if it had answers for her.

“Very little.” Steph shrugged. Cheyenne opened her folder and fanned out the photos inside.

“Phillip Kersey, the front man, lead singer, writes all the lyrics. He’s one of the cofounders of the group. Ian described him as very headstrong and creative.” Cheyenne took a photo of Phillip out of the file and sat it on the table. He had a commanding presence, even in a photograph. His arms were crossed over his chest, a defiant glare plastered on his rugged face. He was ruggedly handsome, with fair hair, a strong jaw, and a smattering of tattoos on his bulging muscles.

Steph took the photo and looked at it closer, her eyes twinkling.

“Yummy.”

“I know, right?” Cheyenne agreed, fanning herself.

“And that’s Scot Charles,” Steph continued, taking another photo out of the folder.

As Cheyenne looked at the picture, she was taken aback. He was photogenic, with long dark brown hair and dark pools for eyes. His high cheekbones, chiseled features, and perfect pale skin enraptured her. She was vaguely aware that Steph was talking to her.

“Sorry, what did you say?” Cheyenne pulled her curious eyes away from the photo and attempted to focus on Steph’s words.

“According to Ian’s little dossier sheet here, Scot is the brains of the band. He’s supposed to have this huge IQ. He’s the other cofounder of the group. In the early days, he did the managing. Who’s next?” Steph took a drink of bottled water and swallowed a pill.

“That would be Nathan Clayton.” Cheyenne produced another picture. Nathan had light brown hair with red highlights and gorgeous green eyes.

“God, these guys are going to be fun to photograph.” Steph snatched the picture..

“Nathan is the keyboardist. He’s some sort of art school dropout. He has a lot to do with establishing the image of the band. Always makes a fashion statement, apparently a ‘ladies’ man’.”

Steph snorted. “Aren’t they all?”

“David Evans,” Cheyenne continued, passing her the photo. “Not much is known about him—even to Ian—except that he’s an awesome drummer.”

“And conveniently good looking...”

David looked clean cut, with his short dark hair dark and wholesome eyes. He had strong muscular arms that Cheyenne presumed were from years of banging on a drum set.

“I think you’ll find they’re all quite good looking. I wouldn’t mention it to them but most of their success is probably based on their looks,” Cheyenne stated as she typed.

“Who is the last one?”Steph asked.

“Bret Williams. He’s the only married band member. They have a young son. He is Welsh, and I guess the guys razz him about his accent. The lead guitarist, he writes most of the music with Phillip Kersey.” They looked at his picture. He like the others was great looking. He had long dark hair, a wicked grin and blue eyes.

“Photographing all five of these men at once is going to be a friggin’ field day.”

“They’re probably not this attractive in person. You of all people should know that,” Cheyenne stated, still typing away on her laptop.

“Too true. Besides they are probably egotistical assholes. Everyone in the business is.” Steph plopped back on the bed with her arms behind her head.

Cheyenne raised an eyebrow at her.

“Present company excluded, of course.”

Cheyenne tossed her head and laughed.

“Hey guys!” Goddess yelled, bursting through the door that connected their rooms.

“Doesn’t she sleep?” Steph asked. She rolled off the bed and stood. “I’m taking a shower.”

Goddess plopped down in the same spot on Steph’s bed, seemingly immune to Steph’s rudeness.

“How’s it going?” She asked Cheyenne.

“Slow,” Cheyenne sighed. “I have never been so unprepared. There’s just not a lot of information on Fury.”

“But you’ll be the first person to present all their information to the public. It’s a totally gnarly opportunity,” Goddess replied.

Cheyenne turned away, pretending to be organizing her papers, trying not to laugh. She hadn’t heard the term gnarly since she’d been a kid.

“So where are you from?” Cheyenne asked once she’d gotten ahold of herself.

“LA born and raised.” Goddess looked at the photos on the table. They were silent for a while.

“Boy your room is so neat,” Goddess finally said.

“Isn’t your room just like this one?”

“Nope.”

Cheyenne shook her head. She glanced down at her phone and noticed the time. “Damn! We’re running out of time. We should really start getting ready for the show.”

“I’d better go,” Goddess said, jumping off the bed. She was out the door before Cheyenne could utter a syllable.

Steph came out of the bathroom just in time to see Goddess leaving.

“How did you manage that?” Steph brushed her wet hair.

“Hurry up! I need to get something to eat before the show,” Cheyenne urged. After a quick shower, she selected a black, clingy top and dark denim. Steph’s choice was a white, flowing shirt and black pants.

Goddess came back into the room. She wore ripped jeans, biker boots and a Fury t-shirt. No one would place the three together.

Cheyenne felt wired but forced a smile. “Let’s go!”

Jumping out of their cab, they rushed into the Royal Highland Exhibition Hall as if fleeing from a disaster. People milled everywhere and the electricity of the crowd felt overpowering.

“This is great!” Goddess exclaimed. “Are we gonna go up front?”

Cheyenne looked at Steph, who smirked.

“Knock yourself out; we’ll catch up with you later,” Steph urged.

Goddess happily bounded off into the crowd.

“I hope that’s the last time we see her ass tonight,” Steph mumbled, heaving a pleased-with-herself-sigh.

They headed up the stairs and were delighted that the seats were approximately 15 feet over the heads of the roadies testing the equipment on stage.

“These seats are unbelievable,” Cheyenne raved. “You’re going to have some fun with your camera.”

“Yeah. I don’t understand why we didn’t get press passes.” Steph scanned the panoramic view through her zoom lens. “Oh look. There’s Goddess… she looks so little.”

They both laughed merrily. The lights slowly began to fade and the crowd went wild. Steph and Cheyenne immediately stood.

“They don’t have an opening act?” Cheyenne asked.

“Evidently not. They probably don’t want to let anyone into their inner circle.” Steph perfectly impersonated Ian’s deep voice and British accent.

“Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together and give a warm welcome to Fury!” the voice was echoed by the screaming fans in the crowd.

Fog filled the dark stage and Scot Charles appeared out of the mist directly below them, possessively clutching his bass. Steph was pointing to something in the crowd, nudging Cheyenne. Ignoring Steph, Cheyenne couldn’t take her eyes off of Scot. He tossed his dark hair, shaded his eyes from the brilliant spotlight and fixed his sites on the balcony. He raised a pick, as if to salute them, and began to play. For a moment Cheyenne felt as if he were playing just to her. He ran toward center stage and shaded his eyes again, a classic stage technique to whip the crowd into a frenzy. Phillip appeared at his side. He sang a haunting melody with fierce conviction. He and Scot were nearly the same height; Scot was thin and lanky while Philip’s build appeared much more muscular. Philip’s bronze skin made him stand out from the rest of his fair-skinned band mates. He dropped to his knees and crawled across the stage, growling into the microphone and the song ended. The hall erupted in a tremendous roar.

David Evans began the next song, beating the drums in a wild frenzy. His well-kept looks made him hard to miss, despite being positioned in the far back. He seemed to be just as entranced by the music as the crowd he entertained was. Close by was Nathan at the keyboards, seducing the crowd with an angry smile. The red in his hair gleamed under the bright lights. A small man, he came across as deceptively larger due to his powerful presence. At his side, Bret whirled around like a dancer picking furiously at his guitar. Smiling wickedly, he entertained, tossing a guitar pick into the eager crowd. Bret ran to Nathan and they played in unison and laughed, as if sharing some sort of private joke.

The music rocked on as huge video screens fired up on each side of the hall. The intensity of the show blew Cheyenne’s mind. She looked at Steph and could tell that she also had been mesmerized by the visual and audio fantasy.

The concert ended in what seemed like minutes. Cheyenne put her hand on her throat to feel her swollen glands. Her throat ached from screaming.

“We’d better go find Goddess,” Cheyenne croaked as they filed out of their seats.

“Do we have to?” Steph laughed. “Wait, you have to see this.”

She held up her camera for Cheyenne to see the video she’d taken of Goddess during the show. Goddess had been body surfing, and flailed around like a beached whale. They laughed and Cheyenne’s hands went to her sore throat once more.

“You really should be nicer to her.” Cheyenne grabbed Steph’s arm and pulled her closer toward the stage. They spotted Goddess talking to a huge roadie near the backstage entrance. The roadie was allowing a pretty blonde groupie through the gate as he and Goddess spoke.

“So do you want it or not?” he was asking Goddess as they approached. The roadie’s gaze shifted to Cheyenne and Stephanie. The hulking man put Goddess’s large stature to shame and his glare made Cheyenne shiver as if someone were tap dancing on her grave. He had spikey, tea colored hair with noticeable grey throughout. Cheyenne thought he looked like a former body builder who was past his prime. He smiled at them and she realized that both of his front teeth were gold.

“I suppose you two want backstage?” he asked with a smarmy grin.

“These are my friends,” Goddess said.

He turned and scowled at her.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” He snapped his gaze back to Cheyenne and Steph. His eyes settled on Steph and he licked his lips. “What about you, Love? I fancy red heads.”

Steph’s heart-shaped face looked hard as stone.

“What will you give me if I let you backstage?” he continued, reaching out for Steph. He caught the ruffle of her shirt in his fingers.

Cheyenne tried to yank Steph away and a tug of war ensued.

“What will you do for me?” he taunted.

Steph pulled away from his grasp and her blouse ripped.

“You’re a disgusting pig!” Steph turned to walk away.

“Tease!” he chuckled, tossing a glass of water at her. It saturated the back of her white shirt.

Steph gasped. “You son of a bitch!”

“Come on let’s get out of here.” Cheyenne pushed Steph away before things could get uglier.

“See you later, Goddess,” the roadie called from behind them.

“You’re going to see him later?” Cheyenne was dazed by the incident.

“I like him.” Goddess seemed defensive.

“What the...? Are you alright, Steph?” Cheyenne asked.

“Yeah, just freezing my ass off.” Steph shivered as she looked down at her wet ripped shirt. “Damn. I loved this shirt.”

“You guys really screwed that up for me. I could have gotten backstage!” Goddess complained.

Cheyenne and Steph exchanged annoyed looks and Steph rolled her eyes.

“Let me explain something to you, Goddess,” Cheyenne began as they watched for a cab. “We will be meeting the band tomorrow. Why the hell would want backstage?”

“It just seemed like fun.”

“Do you know what that asshole was going to make you do in order to get backstage?” Steph clutched her shirt to hold it in place.

“I don’t care,” Goddess countered.

“That’s sad.” Cheyenne’s face felt incredulous. “Don’t you have any respect for yourself?”

Goddess didn’t respond. After a few moments a cab pulled up. The girls got in and rode back to the hotel in silence.

The next morning, Cheyenne was the first one up and around. After a soothing bubble bath, she sat on the veranda wrapped in a decadent robe. Sipping her coffee and smoking a cigarette, she enjoyed the crisp but beautiful August morning.

When she reflected on the night before, irritation overwhelmed her. It was tragic and silly for a grown woman to behave as Goddess had. The music business definitely had an ugly side; this was not news to Cheyenne. She abruptly scolded herself for thinking poorly of Goddess. Who was she to judge when she had done so many questionable things in her life just to pay the bills? Having no time to dwell on the memories, she pushed them aside.

“Hey,” Steph said from behind her, startling her. She held a cup of coffee. “This seems surreal. It’s almost cold out here.”

Steph leaned casually on the balcony and took in the view. Cheyenne put out her cigarette.

“I know, it’s beautiful isn’t it?” Cheyenne sighed, as she tried to memorize her view in case she never got a chance to return.

Steph nodded, her red waves bouncing.

“Have you talked to Ian this morning?” Steph picked up her camera and snapped several pictures of their London view.

“No, I just wanted to enjoy some quiet normal time before we’re forced to deal with the bullshit fantasy world.”

The two friends sat, enjoying their coffee and the view in silence.

“Hey you ordered breakfast! Thanks. I’m starving,” Goddess bellowed as she appeared on the veranda. Cheyenne couldn’t believe such a large woman could move with such stealth.

Steph emitted a long suffering sigh.

“I just talked to Ian and he said we should meet at Scot’s suite around ten. He’s the only one staying here ‘cause the others guys all have flats in London,” Goddess added, shoving food in her mouth. “He said he had to make a few phone calls and would meet us there.”

“Well I guess I should shower then,” Steph remarked. “I still need to get the crust of that nasty roadie off of me.”

Cheyenne walked into the room and sat next to Goddess. Determination to counsel the newbie consumed her. “So how was your night?” Cheyenne began as she removed the towel from her head. Her long damp hair fell onto her shoulders.

“It was awesome!” Goddess squealed. “I really like Duncan, the roadie from last night.”

Cheyenne forced a smile. “That’s great. He seemed like a real charmer.”

Goddess smiled back. She seemed unfazed by Cheyenne’s sarcasm.

“I’ll be right back; I just need to grab my equipment,” she said, jumping up from the table.

“I’m going to get dressed so give us a few minutes please. We’ll knock when we are ready.”

“Ok.” Goddess grabbed a piece of toast and bounded off.

“Good God!” Cheyenne exclaimed.

After dressing, Cheyenne and Steph knocked on Goddess’s door. She yanked it open as if she’d been waiting on the other side to pounce.

“Did you get the room number?” Steph asked Goddess.

“Yeah, its 628. The Terrace Suite.”

“Let’s go,” Steph groaned and slung her camera bags over her shoulder.

They arrived on sixth floor. The suite had its own private elevator access which opened onto a black and white marbled hall. It struck Cheyenne as eerily quiet on the 6th floor.. They encountered no security, no housekeeping, not another living soul. She realized that since the suite had a private elevator, there would be no traffic from any other rooms. At the suite, they were greeted by a half open door. Unnerved, Cheyenne knocked.

“Just open it.” Goddess side stepped her and pushed the door open wide. “It’s not like they aren’t expecting us.”

Cheyenne and Steph exchanged concerned glances and followed Goddess into the vast suite through double doors. A spacious living area showcased a charcoal colored travertine fireplace, hardwood floors, a built in library, and a wet bar. At the far end sat a large oak table and chairs, In the foreground, a sofa and a chaise lounge sat near the fireplace.

“Wow,” Goddess cooed.

“Where the hell is everyone?” Cheyenne asked, scanning the room for clues. Travel bags, full ashtrays, and empty beer bottles proved the suite was occupied. Cheyenne was almost disappointed; she felt like these trivial items tarnished the beauty of the stunning suite.

“Maybe they’re in the bedroom?” Steph joked.

“Do you want me to check?” Goddess volunteered as she headed for the hallway that led to the bedroom area.

“No,” Cheyenne ordered. She couldn’t understand why Fury hadn’t had the decency to be present. She joined Steph at the bar.

“Well, the bar is well stocked.” Steph checked out the shelves.

“Wow, look at this terrace! What a view.” Cheyenne made her way to the terrace with Steph close behind. The terrace was larger than their entire room. They took in the view of the Mayfair area of London, which put their view to shame.

A door closed somewhere in the suite behind them. From their vantage point on the terrace, they had a clear view of Scot Charles as he danced into the room wearing nothing but a towel. His eyes were closed and he was singing along with whatever song was playing on his MP3 player.

Steph and Cheyenne exchanged a saucy glance and Steph’s eyes flew wide. She pointed wildly to Cheyenne. Cheyenne realized with a sinking feeling what Steph meant for her to see: though Scott couldn’t easily see them through the tinted glass, he would surely spot Goddess who was standing ten feet from him, still inside the suite. As if he’d heard her thoughts, Scot opened his eyes and looked directly at Goddess.

“Scot!” Goddess shrieked. Steph and Cheyenne watched helplessly as she pounced toward him.

Cheyenne saw terror on his face as he turned to escape.

“Help!” he shrieked, as Goddess closed the distance between them and grabbed at his towel. He retreated leaving the towel behind.

Steph and Cheyenne watched in shock as Scot’s naked body disappeared into the hallway.

“Goddess!” Steph grumbled in a whisper. Her hands were clenched in fists.

Cheyenne stood stunned, with her mouth hanging open.

Immediately they heard a door slam and a male voice rang out. Cheyenne saw two men enter through the same door they’d used when they’d arrived

“So I told Sarah she had to try it on, cause it was made by Stella McCartney—What the hell!” The men gawked at Goddess; Cheyenne recognized them as Phillip and Bret.

“Bret!” Goddess exclaimed. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she fainted, falling like a redwood tree.

“Blimey!” Bret said, looking down at Goddess with surprise.

Cheyenne realized that none of the band had noticed her and Steph. She wished she had the ability to parachute off of the terrace.

Scot reentered the room wearing a pair of shorts. “She attacked me.” Scot pointed at Goddess. He looked startled. “She saw me naked.”

“I’ve had women faint at the sight of me naked,” Phillip joked.

“It must be an awesome sight,” came Bret’s dry reply.

“I’m calling security.” Scot grabbed the phone.

Cheyenne’s mouth was dry. It was obvious that the band was not expecting them. She opened her mouth to announce their presence when the entrance door opened and Nathan and David joined the action.

“Bloody hell,” Nathan exclaimed, seeing Goddess. “That’s a big one.”

“No fooling,” David agreed.

Scot hung up the phone and all five men gathered around Goddess.

“Security is on the way.” Scot lit a cigarette. “Man I feel so violated.”

A flash illuminated the room, All five men blinked and Cheyenne presumed it was Goddess’s camera going off.

“I need some air.” Scot turned to the terrace and stopped in his tracks. He was face to face with Cheyenne. Their eyes met and she looked at him in fascination. Steph was wrong—he was just as attractive in person. Slowly her eyes shifted past him and she noticed the entire band staring at them. She slid the door of the terrace fully open.

“This is definitely a Kodak moment.” Steph raised her camera and began snapping pictures.

“Stop it, dammit!” Phillip exclaimed and advanced on her, snatching her camera and hurling it off the terrace.

“Hey!”Steph exclaimed in disbelief. “What the—”

“You Birds have two minutes to get the hell out of here,” Phillip stated, looking from Steph to Cheyenne.

“Is she with you?” Bret pointed to Goddess, who still appeared to be unconscious.

“Yeah, I guess.” Steph looked at her empty camera bag longingly.

“Well then take her with you.” Phillip folded his arms across his chest.

“Got a fork lift?” Steph snapped up at him. Cheyenne had never seen Steph’s face so red.

“This is a violation of our privacy,” Phillip blurted.

Cheyenne brushed past him.

“You lost the privilege of privacy when your album went triple platinum. We’re from The Sound Wave. Ian sent us.”

“Yeah, right.” Nathan stared at Cheyenne. His tone was well natured while his emerald eyes travelled up and down her body. Cheyenne shook her head then noticed him look at Steph again, seeing doubt cross his face.

“Call him,” Cheyenne said, taking a seat and lighting a cigarette.

“Brilliant idea.” Phillip snatched the phone and began dialing. He listened and hung up.

“It’s busy,” he told no one in particular.

“Oh, that’s right. He told us to meet him here because he had a few phone calls to make. I guess you’ll have to wait.” Cheyenne flipped her hair with a smirk.

“Maybe we’ll have security haul your asses out of here,” Phillip mocked her.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” Steph apparently found her voice and Catholicism at the same moment. The entire group looked startled. “Ian didn’t tell you we were coming?”

“Who the hell are you?” Phillip demanded, looking down at her. She remained on the terrace and he was blocking her entrance into the room.

“Stephanie Brier?” Nathan exclaimed, his eyes wide. Realization appeared to crash down upon him like a tidal wave. “Holy shit! I am such a fan.”

The entire room of people turned to Nathan curiously.

“Photography is a passion of mine. I am so honored to meet you. Nathan continued as he crossed to Steph, nearly knocking Phillip off his feet as he brushed past him. Nathan took Steph’s hand in both of his.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Phillip looked at Nathan as if he were a traitor.

“And you,” Nathan scowled. “You broke her lovely camera.”

“So if you are who you say you are—where are your press passes?” Bret asked. His face morphed as if he’d been struck by a brilliant idea. Bret typed wildly on his phone. He stopped for a moment and looked at the group, holding his phone out to them.

“She’s telling the truth,” he announced. As Cheyenne suspected, he’d googled Steph. Phillip snatched Bret’s phone and began reading the information.

“You dated Kevin Wiley?” Phillip asked incredulously. Steph’s face was on fire. Cheyenne thought for a moment that Steph might have a stroke.

A knock at the door broke the tension of the moment. David opened it and two hotel security guards entered, followed by Ian.

“What seems to be the problem?” Ian asked, looking around the room and finally zoning in on Goddess. “What happened here?”

“She fainted,” Cheyenne offered.

“Why is security here?” Ian asked, still confused.

“Your children still don’t want to talk to strangers,” Steph replied, as she stormed past him out of the suite.

Ian looked at Goddess, then at Cheyenne, and then at the band. Cheyenne watched as he deduced the events of the past few moments. “I’m sorry, there has been a terrible misunderstanding,” Ian informed the security guards.

The guards looked to the band for confirmation. When Bret and David nodded at them, they walked out chuckling.

Ian shut the door after them. Goddess sat up and looked around, her expression blank.

“So you actually know these people?” Phillip asked.

“These people, Phillip, will promote the American tour. They will be traveling with you for the foreseeable future, so I suggest you behave yourself.” Ian crossed the room to where Goddess sat. As he attempted to help her to her feet, Cheyenne suppressed a giggle. She gave him an A for his efforts.

“Why didn’t you tell us they would be here today?” Scot appeared embarrassed.

“Look, you guys wanted this,” Ian snapped.” I went to The Sound Wave. They’re here now so let’s get this story over with.”

“Phillip had a temper tantrum and tossed Stephanie’s camera,” Nathan tattled.

“Phillip?” Ian fumed, his dashing face clouding over. Cheyenne felt like she was watching a tennis match.

“I thought they were paparazzi,” Phillip blushed.

“I suggest you get used to the attention,” Ian seethed, as he stormed toward the door.

“But—” Phillip began. Cheyenne interrupted him.

“When you gentlemen decide you’re ready to be interviewed, give us a call,” she said icily. “Goddess? Shall we?”

“Cheyenne—” Ian began, as she made her way past him.

“You have my number, Ian,” Cheyenne said coolly. She opened the door and stormed out, Goddess trailing behind her.

As the elevator doors closed, Cheyenne heard raised voices coming from the suite.

Back in their room, Steph pouted by the window, her arms crossed. She’d returned to the room a few minutes after Goddess and Cheyenne with her sim card, which she claimed was all that was worth salvaging from her camera. For the following hour, Steph and Goddess worked on the limited photos they had managed to take of the band between the concert and the morning’s altercation. The next thirty minutes had been spent Googling camera shops in London. At present, Cheyenne paced back and forth, second guessing her comments to the band and Ian and Goddess was sprawled out on the floor, watching television. Everyone had been silent for a long time.

“I am going to go for a swim. I need a break from this debacle,” Steph blurted. She disappeared into the bathroom with her suitcase.

“Whatever,” Cheyenne mumbled.

Steph reappeared a few moments later wearing a swimsuit cover-up and carrying a beach bag. Without a word, she walked out the door and slammed it shut behind her.

“This has been the worst day.” Goddess gobbled down the last of her candy bar. “I’m so depressed. I can’t believe I passed out. Life sucks!”

“I think you had better learn to contain yourself, Goddess,” Cheyenne informed her. “You could blow this whole thing and I don’t think Mr. Brier would take kindly to that.”

Goddess looked away. Her pink and blue hair was matted on one side from lying on the floor. She finally looked up.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was meek, “It’s just that I have never met anyone this famous before.” She stood, towering over Cheyenne.

“I understand, but if you are going to work in this business you’d better get used to it. You can’t behave like a groupie or you’ll get no respect.”

“Ok.” She looked like a small child who was being scolded.

“You’ll be fine. Just remember why you’re here.” Cheyenne patted Goddess’s shoulder. “Now if only we could get started on this damn article—”

A knock interrupted her thoughts. Cheyenne answered it and her eyes flew wide. Phillip stood before her holding a gift box and flowers. Duncan (Goddess’ roadie from the night before) and another crew member stood flanked him.

“Is Miss Brier here?” Phillip looked past her.

“No. She went to the pool. What’s with security? Afraid she’ll go all Kung Fu on you?” she responded, not missing a beat.

Phillip looked at the floor then back up at Cheyenne.

“Ian asked me to invite all of you to tea this afternoon at four,” he started, appearing to be choosing his words with care.

“Ok.” Cheyenne folded her arms.

“Ian wants to talk to you and get a schedule set up. We’re scheduled for a lot of press conferences and radio interviews. Then there are the sounds checks, and of course the shows. We’ll have to work around all of that.”

“I think I’ll go talk to him now,” Cheyenne said. She turned to grab her laptop and cell. They both headed down the hall and rode the elevator in silence. She felt claustrophobic, what with Phillip, the hulking roadies, and the obnoxious smell of the bouquet. She turned to steal a glance at Duncan and he flashed his gold smile. Disgusted, she quickly looked away. When the doors opened, Cheyenne hurried off. She stopped in her tracks and turned back to Phillip.

“See you at four. And Phillip? A little friendly advice?”
“What?” She could hear caution in his voice.

“Ditch security and ditch the flowers. The sentiment will be lost on Stephanie.” She waved to Phillip as the doors closed.

She knocked on Ian’s door and waited for what seemed like eternity, shifting impatiently from one foot to another. She raised her hand to knock again when Ian finally opened the door; she hurried in.

“I just want to say that this morning was ridiculous,” Cheyenne started.

“I know. I’m sorry. Here, I wanted to give these to you.” Ian handed her three press passes. “Do you have a schedule sat up yet for the interviews?”

Cheyenne looked at him as if he were an imbecile. “No, Ian, I don’t. That’s why I’m here.”

“Did Phillip tell you about tea today?”

“Yes he did.” Cheyenne seated herself on the sofa. “I want to schedule one on one time with each band member. I’d like to get as many interviews done as soon as possible. And Goddess… well, I had a talk with her about her behavior.”

“Good. It would be bad if Mr. Brier found out about that,” Ian mused, as he took a seat across from her. He sipped his drink. “Care for a whiskey?”

“No thanks. I can promise you—Goddess will not behave like that again.” Cheyenne stood. His casual threat to Goddess’s job struck a chord with Cheyenne.

“As long as we are on the same page.”

Cheyenne’s blood boiled. She absolutely despised him. His nonchalant attitude and carefully crafted statements seemed to imply that she and her coworkers were the cause of the most recent turn of events.

“Don’t be late; tea is at four.” Ian stood and turned away from her.

“We’ll be there. Just make sure everyone knows we are coming this time.”

Cheyenne shut the door and hurried down the hall, wanting to place as much distance between herself and Fury’s manager as she could.

The cool water enveloped Steph as she dove in and swam the length of the pool. As she surfaced, she smiled. Moving her limbs through the water felt so delightful and soothed her boiling blood. Having the pool to herself, she swam a couple of laps, cherishing the privacy. She stopped at the side and rested her head on her arms; her eyes closed. She felt briefly refreshed and calm. Part of her was aware she should be out shopping for a new camera, but the rest of her was pleasantly in denial. Steph cursed Phillip silently. That camera had been an extension of her for years. She fumed; he was idiotic and his arrogance made her think of Kevin. Her thoughts drifted to her ex and the last phone conversation they’d had. She missed having a man in her life, though she would never admit it to him or speak of it to Cheyenne. Loathing herself for thinking of him at all, her pride took over and empowered her to thrust Kevin from her mind.

“Excuse me,” a voice drifted down from above her.

Apprehension gripped Steph as she opened her eyes to see Phillip looming above her. Her anger reappeared and she pushed off the side and swam away.

He heaved a dramatic sigh, his blue eyes looking up at the glass ceiling.

“I understand you’re angry,” Phillip began, as if reciting a speech someone had prepared for him.

“Do you?” Steph scowled, tilting her head to the side slightly.

“The other guys wanted me to give this to you.” He held out a box.

With reluctance, Stephanie got out of the pool on the side farthest from him and snatched her towel. Painfully aware of how revealing her attire was, she felt his eyes on her and looked over her shoulder. Phillip glanced around the pool area with an unconcerned look on his face. She continued around the pool toward him, drying off. Approaching him cautiously, she was struck by his hulking physique and felt slightly bothered being alone with him. He thrust the box at her. When she opened it, she was delighted to see a camera virtually identical to her own. A newer model, it had all the bells and whistles including some excellent new features she’d recently read about. She looked from the camera to Phillip, gratitude on the tip of her tongue.

“So, are we good? Can we put this ugly incident behind us?” His casual attitude about her passion perturbed her.

“Do you have any idea how long it takes to adjust to using a new camera?”

So much for gratitude, she thought. He clearly didn’t feel remorseful whatsoever. She heard her father’s voice in her mind suddenly, scolding her for acting spoiled and ungrateful.

“Actually, yes. Nathan told me. He picked this one out.” Phillip’s tone seemed nonchalant.

Steph eyed the camera; admittedly, it was actually better than hers.

“You should really learn to control that violent temper, Phillip.” Steph wrapped her towel around her. She could feel Phillip’s eyes on her exposed flesh and it made her agitated.

“What the hell would you have done if you were me? Invited strangers in?” Phillip retorted.

“I wouldn’t have broken your microphone.” Steph felt like an idiot as soon as the statement crossed her lips. She fumbled with what to say next. “I’m a little more mature than that.”

“Are you?” Phillip crossed his bulging arms. His eyes twinkled condescendingly.

“I am.” Steph raised her chin proudly. “I don’t know who you think you are.”

She turned to flee before she could make more of an ass of herself. The conversation was preposterous.

“I, my dear, am your paycheck.” She turned back to Phillip, who had a sarcastic smirk painted on his face.

Steph saw red and her eyes narrowed. Without a second thought, she pushed Phillip into the pool.

When he surfaced she realized she was holding her breath, but her blood was still boiling.

“Tell Nathan thanks for the camera,” she fumed, then waved her middle finger at him in salute.

“You certainly are mature,” Phillip sputtered.

Steph shook her head and kept walking without a backward glance.

“Do we have to have tea with them?” Stephanie asked Cheyenne, who primped in the mirror. She sat on the bed fiddling with her new camera. She’d been quite tight lipped with Cheyenne about her encounter with Phillip.

“Are you ready?” Cheyenne asked, purposely ignoring her question.

“Yes,” Steph mumbled, standing. “Where’s Goddess?”

As if on cue, Goddess appeared in the doorway.

“I can’t believe we are going to eat with Fury!” she squealed.

Steph shot Cheyenne a disbelieving look.

“Seriously?” Steph cocked her head to the side.

“Remember what I told you,” Cheyenne whispered to Goddess.

Goddess saluted her. “You don’t have to worry about me Cheyenne.”

“Worry about what?” Steph asked.

“Nothing.” Cheyenne grabbed her laptop and purse. “I forgot to tell you both. Ian gave us our press passes.”

“’Bout time. He’s probably kissing up.” Steph took her pass. Goddess chuckled.

When they arrived at the conference room the table was set with an elaborate tea service. Ian and Scot sat at the bar where David and Bret were pouring Bloody Mary’s.

“Hello,” Ian said in a gracious manner. “Welcome.”

Steph pulled out her camera and began taking a few shots.

Scot flashed a dazzling smile at Cheyenne. Then he looked past her toward Goddess.

“Are you going to behave yourself?” His tone was lighthearted.

Goddess nodded, blushing.

“That’ll be the day,” Steph commented under her breath and Cheyenne elbowed her in the side.

Phillip and Nathan walked into the room. Nathan waved with a crooked smile. Phillip looked around awkwardly.

“Everyone is here…let’s eat!” Bret proclaimed, and began piling a plate full of food.

“Can I get any of you a drink?” Ian maneuvered behind the bar.

Cheyenne nodded and pointed at the vodka.

“I’m sorry for the misunderstanding earlier,” Ian began.

“I really should have known the way the blokes were going to react. I guess I like to believe their behavior will improve with age.”

Cheyenne grinned, a look of understanding plastered on her face. “Apology accepted Ian. Considering your policy on publicity, it’s understandable.” Her dark eyes met his. Cheyenne didn’t like Ian much, but they understood each other. They both were shrewd business folk.

“I’d like to think of this tea as a fresh start.” Ian handed Cheyenne her drink.

She took a sip.

“Agreed.”

“Stephanie!” Nathan called, making Steph lower her camera. He motioned for her to join him by the fireplace. Across from him was Phillip, staring at the empty hearth. Steph joined them.

“Do you like the camera?” Nathan asked, making room for her to sit next to him. Steph sat, now face to face with Phillip, and felt uneasy and foolish.

“It’s perfect, Mr. Clayton.”

“Please do me the honor of calling me Nathan. I cannot believe I am having tea with Stephanie Brier. This is a real treat.” Nathan grinned.

“Likewise.” Steph realized Nathan was being genuine. “We had a great time at the concert last night.”

Nathan continued to shower her with compliments and picked her brain about different photographic techniques. She looked over at Phillip who was now staring back at her thoughtfully. Surprising herself, she felt a blush spread over her face.

“So when can we begin the interviews?” Cheyenne asked when there was a lull in conversation.

“Probing little thing aren’t you?” Phillip headed for the bar.

“That’s my job,” Cheyenne retorted. She and Steph locked eyes. Cheyenne’s face said it all; Another temperamental artist, the world was full of them.

“It would probably be best if we waited until after we get settled in Paris. We have a couple of days of downtime,” Ian offered, shooting Phillip a disapproving look. “That will give the little brats the naptime they need.”

“Hey!” Bret feigned disbelief. “I’m always well behaved.”

“Me too,” Nathan replied, raising a naughty eyebrow at Cheyenne.

“Liar,” Scot uttered a disbelieving chuckle aimed at Nathan. “I seem to remember a few incidents...”

“Shhh.” Nathan winked at Cheyenne. “Don’t soil my reputation with The Sound Wave.”

Steph and Cheyenne laughed.

“I would be glad to go first. You could interview me on the plane to France.” Scot appeared next to Cheyenne.

She turned, and Steph watched her give him a grateful smile.

“Fantastic. Thanks, Scot.” His smile was so perfect that Steph thought he could have been in a toothpaste ad. So much for the cliché that British people had bad teeth.

After tea they continued to mingle. Goddess was taking a few pictures. Phillip sat at the bar smoking and not speaking to anyone. Thanks to Scot breaking the ice, Cheyenne had set up all the interviews and had a copy of the bands itinerary clutched in her hand. Steph sat with Nathan talking shop but kept stealing cautious glances at Phillip. Nathan leaned toward her.

“Lovely, isn’t he?” Nathan whispered. Caught red-handed, Stephanie looked away. “Ah, now your cheeks match your hair.”

“Actually, I’m waiting for him to go berserk and break everything in the room.” Steph’s retort was tart, but she knew it was hopeless. He wasn’t buying it, so there was no use denying she was admiring Phillip’s good looks.

“He can actually be a lot of fun. You must bring out animalistic qualities in him.” Nathan held his cigarette case out to Steph.

With reluctance, she took one and headed over to Phillip. No time like the present to apologize, she thought.

“Got a light?” Steph asked, having no desire to smoke, but needing an “in”. She took the seat next to his. Phillip glanced around as if plotting his escape. He turned back to her and pulled a gold lighter from his pocket.

“Amazingly enough it survived the pool.” Phillip flicked the lighter. Her hand steadied his as she leaned in to light her cigarette. She pulled away and they regarded one other. Momentarily entranced by his bulging arms, she took a second to choose her words.

“Alright. I admit I have temper issues as well. I was thinking we should declare a truce.”

“You mean like I tried to at the pool?” His eyes locked with hers. She stared him down.

“Come on. You deserved it a little,” Steph replied, a playful smile on her face.

“About as much as you deserved a broken camera.” Phillip looked away from her.

“Nice.”

“How long have you been out of school?” Phillip looked her up and down.

Steph glared at him. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“How old are you?” he rephrased.

“Twenty-five.” Steph took a drag off her cigarette. Her inexperience with inhaling caused her to have a coughing fit.

Phillip threw his head back and laughed. He had the audacity to pat her on the back and Steph wanted to slap him.

“What?” Steph gasped, feeling flushed.

“Awfully young to be so successful, aren’t you? Don’t suppose Daddy had anything to do with it.” Phillip smiled broadly.

Steph’s face went blank.

“Yes, Nathan told me all about your little music dynasty. With a Mother like yours, I suppose nepotism is a given. It’s not surprising you’d behave like a pampered brat.”

Rage overcame her and she would have knocked him off the barstool had Nathan not appeared and grabbed her by the wrist.

“Hey who wants to play pool?” Nathan exclaimed, pulling her toward the table.

“Since when do you play pool?” David asked. It was the first time he’d spoken in two hours.

“I’ve been thinking of taking it up, actually.” Nathan threw his arm casually around her shoulders. “Here’s my partner.”

“No, Nathan. I think I need to be taking pictures,” Steph replied.

“We really should be leaving for sound checks,” Phillip interjected, looking at his Rolex.

Ian nodded supportively.

“Alright, Mummy and Daddy.” Nathan looked at the two of them, clearly frustrated. “Can we have a little fun occasionally?”

“Oh, Alright,” Ian conceded. “One game. But I’m playing. I’m not too shabby if I do say so myself.”

“It looks like it’s me and Davey Boy against you two.” Bret downed his drink.

“I’m going to go check out the pictures I took.” Goddess trounced off. Cheyenne looked after Goddess and approached Steph.

“She’s so odd. She went on and on about the band and now she has a chance to hang with them and she’s leaving,” Cheyenne murmured. Steph shrugged. She had no interest in Goddess and was still brooding over Phillip’s insults.

“I’m going to lie down for a while and ready myself for another flight tomorrow.” Cheyenne yawned.

“Ok, sounds good.” Stephanie readied her camera. She found a good vantage point to get some shots of the band playing pool. With any luck, she could escape to her room soon.

“Are you going to the show tonight?” Scot asked, as Cheyenne gathered her equipment. She was surprised as he held the door for her.

“Probably not. I have a ton of writing to do.”

“All work and no play?” A provocative look crossed his face.

Cheyenne turned to the door and almost dropped her laptop. Scot deftly caught it.

“Maybe I should help you carry this.” He locked eyes with her. His chiseled face made the perfect frame for his kind, dark eyes. Cheyenne shivered a bit and she gave him a sheepish grin. Steph had helped her lug quite a bit of equipment to the conference room, and it would be a challenge to get it all back to the room.

“Sure,” she conceded. Along the way, Scot engaged her in polite conversation. Arriving at her door, she turned to him.

“Thanks for helping me out.”

Scot smiled. Their eyes met for a moment and Cheyenne found herself feeling like a school girl on her first date. He was exceedingly handsome and his accent was undoing her business-like demeanor.

“See you later; remember you are my first victim,” Cheyenne said, gaining control. She took her laptop from Scot and their hands brushed. She nearly dropped her laptop again.

Scot chuckled. There wasn’t much space between them and their chemistry was magnetic. He smiled, not taking his eyes off of her.

Cheyenne fled into her room and had to suppress the urge to lock the door. What the hell was that about?

It had been surprisingly hard for Cheyenne to pack up and leave The Connaught. She’d fallen deeply in love with the hotel. After two more concerts in London, they embarked on a road trip to Liverpool. The Sound Wave crew rode in a separate vehicle from the band, and Cheyenne was frustrated by this distance from her subjects.

Steph spent the first day in Liverpool with Nathan, who begged for a private photography lesson. She returned with some fantastic shots of the well-dressed keyboardist on a backdrop of the city’s urban decay. In turn, Nathan came back gushing about her the world class photographer’s advice.

Cheyenne had spent the day playing cards with the rest of the band while they hung out at their hotel, The Radisson BLU. Phillip was a sore loser, which seemed in character, and bailed on the game early. Bret left after taking repeated calls from his wife regarding his son’s misbehavior. As Scot, David, and Cheyenne were about to start a game of Poker, David got a call and left hurriedly.

“It’s his lady friend,” Scot remarked, watching David flee. Cheyenne shuffled the cards.

“Would you like to play another hand?”

“Nah. Would you care to go to the bar for a drink?’

“Absolutely.” Cheyenne grabbed her purse.

They sat at the bar for several hours discussing books they’d both read. She was impressed at his tastes and amused to find he loved John Irving as much as she did. They both had similar tastes in music and had a lengthy conversation about their first rock concert experiences and their first music purchases. His unassuming nature made it easy to forget he was a poster boy. Cheyenne found him to be a great drinking buddy, and they agreed to do it again soon before stumbling back to their rooms.

A few days and a few shows later, Cheyenne had a meeting with Ian. They argued about the finer points of “all access” and with Scot and Nathan as allies, they were assured they’d get to ride with the band.

Back in London, there had been a mad rush to get through customs. Evidently, rock bands are scrutinized more harshly by security. So much for special treatment being a positive thing, Cheyenne mused. She made a mental note to mention this in her article.

Once on Fury’s private jet Cheyenne seated herself beside Scot and settled in to interview him as previously arranged. Dressed casually, he wore a crisp white shirt and to Cheyenne’s amusement, skinny jeans. Europeans.

“What kind of grades did you get in school?” Cheyenne held out a microphone toward him. She had been interviewing him for twenty minutes and had found her growing attraction to him dismaying. Her first impression of him in Liverpool seemed dead on, and he was as brilliant and charming as he was handsome, his answers witty and flirtatious.

“Well, I must admit I was a bit of a nerd,” Scot began, and then took a sip of espresso. “I received excellent grades in Geography and Math, and I attended Cambridge. In fact, that’s where Fury originated, in a manner of speaking. I met Phillip there. We were both studying music. I played the string bass at the time, I know…very sexy.” He uttered a self-depreciating laugh.

Cheyenne shot him a wry smile of agreement.

“Phillip was much more into popular music than I. He was in a poetry class and was always writing lyrics. Honestly, it was rather annoying at first. At the time, I wasn’t sure I wanted to continue in music…for a while I’d been considering changing my major. It wasn’t long before I realized he was onto something, his lyrics were quite good. Soon I was listening to all sorts of rock, pop, funk. I traded in the string bass for an electric one. My father was mortified.”

“So what do your parents think now that Fury is so successful?”

“They’re pretty proud. My father is a history professor and my mother is a retired concert cellist. My father was leery enough when I was a classical music major, but he couldn’t say too much when my mother was in the same profession.”

“What would you have studied if not music?’

“Anything and everything. The world fascinates me. I probably would have studied cultures or anthropology. I believe my favorite thing about Fury is the traveling, I learn so much.”

“Of all the places you’ve traveled, which was your favorite?”

“There’s no contest, I love Brazil, Rio specifically. I think it has the most beautiful beaches in the world.” Scot looked transported back, his eyes gazing off as if remembering every detail.”

“That’s an interesting choice. Isn’t that where you filmed your video Hopeful Man?” Cheyenne asked.

“Yes. We had the best time. David starting dating a model he met on the video shoot. Her family welcomed us into their home and insisted on cooking for us. It was like that everywhere we went. The people are incredibly friendly. I remember one night Bret and I were going out for dinner and there must have been at least 30 fans outside the hotel. None of them rushed us; they were so polite and patient that Bret and I decided to give each of them an autograph. It was so nice; we hardly get to do things like that anymore.” His brown eyes danced. “Have you been to Brazil, Cheyenne?”

“No,” Cheyenne, responded truthfully, after a brief pause. “This is my first time abroad.”

“I was thinking of returning there after the tour in The States, maybe you could come along, like a follow-up interview,” Scot flirted.

Cheyenne laughed aloud, but when Scot didn’t join in the laughter, she stopped abruptly.

“Well that about wraps it up.” Cheyenne stopped recording. “You’re really brilliant Scot; you would make a great journalist.”

“I missed my calling,” Scot mused, still eyeing her closely. Cheyenne could see the wheels turning behind his eyes as if he were plotting something.

“Would you like to see The Eiffel Tower with me?” Scot leaned in close to her.

“Excuse me?” Cheyenne’s response was innocent. His physical closeness made her a little tense, and she suddenly had a series of dirty thoughts about him. As she tucked her stray bangs behind her ear, she realized her hands were shaking and blamed it on slamming too many espresso shots at the airport.

“Don’t tell me you have already made other plans?” Scot feigned jealousy.

“I’ll probably fall asleep as soon as we get settled into the hotel. I’m not used to all this traveling, and jetlag.” She collected her equipment.” I have a busy workday ahead.”

“Come on,” Scot replied with a raised eyebrow. “We could go after your little nap.”

“Scot, I can’t.” She stood, needing to escape him. It had been a very long time since she’d had anything more than a passing interest in a man, and she felt betrayed by her own body. The timing was damned inconvenient, and the fact that Scot was her subject made the entire situation aggravating.

“Please?” he asked blinking his gorgeous dark eyes. He pretended to pout.

“Look, I’ve got to go meet with Steph about the pictures she took last night, and I have to make sure you get photographed.” Cheyenne moved into the aisle.

“Alright then.” Scot seemed to be searching her face. “Cheyenne, did I say something to offend you?”

Cheyenne turned to look at him. She weighed the options and decided to be frank. “Not exactly, though I think there is something I need to clear up. I’m here to do a job Scot; I don’t mix personal affairs with business. There’s no room in my life for anything like that right now.”

To Cheyenne’s astonishment, Scot stared at her wide eyed, apparently wounded.

She swiftly turned and moved down the aisle before he could respond. Waging a battle with herself, she couldn’t help but feel a bit ill at ease. He hadn’t deserved such harsh treatment, but she just wanted to be a straight shooter. She could see why he might be confused after drinks the other night, but drinking in a pub and frolicking through the streets of Paris were two separate situations entirely. She dismissed her concerns; it had been the right call…the professional way to go. Finding Steph, who was leaning over her laptop, Cheyenne sat and belted her seatbelt as they hit a bit of turbulence.

“Done already?” Steph looked up at Cheyenne. “That didn’t take long.”

“He’s very bright and very talkative.” Cheyenne relaxed back in her soft seat. “I got the information I needed.”

“So it went well.” Steph clicked away at her computer.

“Yep. Lots of great repartee.” Her reply sounded halfhearted to her own ears.

Steph stopped and gave her full attention to Cheyenne,

“Huh,” Steph vocalized, and seemed to suppress a question. “I got some fabulous shots last night at the concert.”

“You’re not mad that I skipped it, are you? I just had to get some rest, get adjusted.”

Steph dismissed her question with a little wave and continued to click the mouse with her other hand. She was in the zone; Cheyenne recognized her “work face”.

“Let’s see.” Cheyenne leaned over as Steph placed the laptop between them.

“These are great!” Cheyenne perked up a little. “Nathan’s quite photogenic.”

“That’s the truth.” Steph’s blue eyes danced with excitement. Her wide smile projected her passion for her work. She pointed at a picture of Bret.

“Bret’s a real ham. I didn’t think I would have any memory left… and this one is my personal favorite.” She was pointing to a picture of David in a dark corner lighting a cigarette. It was stunning. Steph had converted the photo to black and white. David’s immaculate good looks seemed to pull Cheyenne into the picture.

“He reminds me of an old time movie star. It’s David a la James Dean.”

“That picture’s definitely a keeper.” Cheyenne rubbed her eyes. She closed them for a second then opened them, blinking to focus. She wondered if aspirin would help her tension. “Did you call your dad?”

“Not when I’m in such a good mood. Spill it! Something’s wrong.” Steph looked at her expectantly, as only a best friend can.

“It’s Scot. He’s coming on to me.” Cheyenne took her hair out of the bun that was suddenly driving her crazy.

“And that’s a problem because…?” Steph trailed off with a sassy tone.

“Maybe I’m just tired… I don’t know… I basically told him off.” Cheyenne glanced at Scot. He was leaning back in his seat with his eyes closed.

“What happened?”

“I think I shocked the hell out of him. He just stared at me. I am probably the first woman in his life to turn him down.”

Steph eyed her.

“Maybe you should give him the benefit of the doubt. He seems really nice—unlike Phillip the Barbarian.”

Cheyenne laughed and Steph smirked. “I don’t want to do anything to get in the way of this story, Steph. That includes any unnecessary attachments.”

“You shouldn’t think so much,” Steph replied. “Speaking of thinking, I was doing some of that earlier and came up with an idea.”

“God help us,” Cheyenne joked.

Steph ignored her. “Let’s get separate rooms for the rest of the trip. I need my bathroom for a dark room. After the death of my modern camera, the thought crossed my mind, that I should break out Mom’s camera and do some ‘old school’. You know, with actual film.”

“That sounds logical. Do you think your dad will mind the extra cost?” Cheyenne closed her eyes.

Steph shrugged and kept working. Cheyenne wasn’t sure she would ever get used to the casual way her friend approached money.

Tons of fans lined up, all waiting for Fury’s arrival at the airport in Paris. Police and security guards bustled everywhere. People shoved and jostled; women cried and fainted. Steph snapped shot after shot of the crowd and seemed to enjoy the chaos. As Cheyenne made her the limo she was flanked by David and a security guard. A sudden sharp pain startled her—someone was yanking her hair.

“Skinny bitch!” a girl yelled in her face. “David is way too hot for you!”

David pulled her away from the woman.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, as if he had been somehow responsible.

The experience overwhelmed Cheyenne; this was fame on a level she’d never been close too, and it was terrifying.

“This is amazing!” Steph yelled over the crowd. Still in shock, Cheyenne watched Steph dart past her. Scrambling onto the roof of the limo to get a better scope of the crowd, she almost slipped, and laughed heartily. All the hysteria unnerved Cheyenne, but to Steph it seemed to be just another photo op. David and Cheyenne climbed in to the limo. Cheyenne watched as a beefy security guard plucked Steph off the roof and tossed her into the limo onto Phillip’s lap; Steph scrambled away from him as if he were a rattle snake and Cheyenne noticed Phillip’s jaw tighten.

As they sped away from the airport in their 10 passenger limo, Nathan bounced in his seat and began chanting.

“Dance Party! Dance Party!”

Soon the other band members took up the chant. Cheyenne and Steph exchanged concerned glances. David fumbled with his IPOD and music began to play softly.

“Ladies and gentlemen, for your listening pleasure…” David said theatrically and then cranked the music, which turned out to be You Shook Me All Night Long by AC/DC. His band mates cheered and began playing air guitar and banging their heads.

“Care to share?” Cheyenne eyed the band as if they’d lost their collective minds.

“Ah, forgive us ladies. You are unfamiliar with our strange ways,” Nathan began. “This is one of our only traditions. We call it Dance Party with DJ Dave.”

Steph, Goddess and Cheyenne giggled; Cheyenne wasn’t sure if he was serious.

“We never listen to our own music. It’s a major tension breaker. Dave puts together a compilation of our influences and sometimes just guilty pleasures. I like to think of it as music therapy.”

Cheyenne watched the ensuing anarchy and made notes for her article. Three songs later, she felt she had unexpected insight into the collective psyche of Fury.

The fourth song began and it was (I’m Gonna Be) 500 miles by The Proclaimers. Steph turned to Cheyenne and squealed in delight.

“Whoo hoo! I love this song! If you can’t beat ‘em…”

She and Nathan pretended to dance together and sang obnoxiously off key. Cheyenne’s side hurt as she and Scot laughed uproariously. Soon, Nathan and Steph were standing with their heads outside the sunroof. Cheyenne watched nervously, very concerned at the speed they were traveling. She glanced to her left and saw Phillip staring at Steph’s backside. She waited until his gaze met hers; he was suddenly very interested in the sites of Paris.

When they arrived at the Hôtel Plaza Athénée, Cheyenne’s scalp still throbbed from the hair pulling incident. Steph continued to snap photos, smiling from ear to ear. As she entered the eight story hotel, Cheyenne forgot all about her sore head.

Taking her breath away, it had the appearance of a palace. The opulence of the lobby carried over to their suites. Momentarily disappointed that their rooms were on the opposite side of the hotel from The Eiffel Tower, she had a change of heart when she saw the interior. The palette of lavender and lace could have been hand selected by her. The king sized bed called her name and she was overjoyed with the breathtaking view of the courtyard.

She spun around her suite in a circle, like a kid at Disneyworld and flopped onto her bed. Ravenously hungry, she made her way to Steph’s door. Stephanie had an adjoining suite which was decorated in a completely different fashion, but equally gorgeous in pale pink linens. To Steph’s disappointment, Goddess was placed in the room on the opposite side of her. Cheyenne had hoped that the time away from Goddess would improve their working relationship. Goddess had spent the entire flight on the other plane with the road crew but unfortunately, the break didn’t seem to be enough. The two friends unpacked and called for room service.

“I am locking this door.” Steph’s face was serious as she fiddled with the door that connected her room to Goddess’s. “That girl is going to give me a migraine.”

“Just sit down and eat something. Don’t forget your pill. Have you been having a trouble with the time difference?”

“I haven’t slept much…but so far so good.” Steph popped a pill and washed it down with water.

“By the way,” Cheyenne started. “I caught Phillip checking you out.”

“Whatever.” Steph fixed her with a doubtful stare.

“No really. I think he wants you.”

“Yeah, like a raging case of Herpes.”

They cackled together.

“Things are going pretty smoothly. At this rate we are going to have a lot of free time on our hands.”

“I’d actually like to do a little sightseeing while we’re here in Paris.” Steph bit into her sandwich. She made a decadent face and took another larger one.

“Me too,” Cheyenne agreed. “I would love to visit the spa.”

“And shop….” Steph interjected. She nodded at Goddess’s door. “Maybe we can get away from you know who.”

“That would be nice,” Cheyenne said. “We haven’t had much time to ourselves.”

“We probably won’t.” As her phone rang, Steph waved a hand like an assistant at a magic show. “Do ya see what I mean? Hello, Dad.”

She placed him on speaker phone.

“Bonnie.” Cheyenne knew Adam used this nickname for Steph when he wanted something or when he was trying to soften bad news. “I just wanted to let you know I had lunch with Kevin. I gave him your itinerary.”

“You’re killing me here, Dad.” Steph’s deadpan tone made Cheyenne stop chewing mid-bite. She took a swig of wine, suddenly engrossed in the conversation.

“I thought you’d want to see him. He said he’s going to Rome to see your brother first.”

“Why would Kevin go see Cedric?”

“You know him a lot better than I do.”

“I cannot deal with this right now, Dad. I’m trying to do a job...”

“And doing it well I presume?”

“My very best attempt. Thanks for the assistant by the way, she’s a real pro.”

Adam laughed. “Call me soon.”

“Luv ya, Dad, even though you make it very hard.” Steph hung up. “Yay…Now we can expect him to turn up like a bad penny.”

“Or a Jack in the Box with bleached teeth and a spray on tan…” Cheyenne shook her head. “What was your Dad thinking?”

Goddess stumbled into Steph’s room, landing in a heap on the floor.

“I thought I locked that,” Steph stated, without missing a beat. Steph and Cheyenne sprung to their feet and leaned over Goddess. “What the hell happened?”

Goddess looked up and Cheyenne gasped. She had a cut on her brow bone that was steadily bleeding.

“We have to get her to a hospital.” Cheyenne rushed to find a phone book.

“No, I don’t need to go.” Goddess stood up carefully, as if she was trying to keep her feet. Cheyenne worried that she might have a concussion.

“You have a gash on your face the size of the Grand Canyon.” Steph seemed at a loss for what to do. “Do we call 911 in Paris?”

“Oh. It just needs a band aid. Sorry to barge in. I thought this was my room” Her eyes darted from Cheyenne to Steph as she stepped back toward the door.

“Are you sure?” Cheyenne asked

“Yeah.” Goddess opened the door and was gone as quickly as she’d appeared..

Cheyenne and Steph exchanged a perplexed glance.

“Well…we knew the girl was weird,” Steph offered.

“Don’t you think she seemed a little more strange than usual? She’s never apologized for barging into our rooms before…” Cheyenne’s pensive expression deepened.. “And how in the hell did she get a cut like that?”

“Probing again?” Steph raised an eyebrow.

Cheyenne shot her a dirty look.

“She probably hit her head on the doorway.” Steph threw a towel over her shoulder and pointed to the clock.

“I’m going to take a shower. Have a nice meeting with Ian.”

“Oh shit!” Cheyenne hurried out the door, somewhat light headed as she walked down the hall. The sight of blood always had that effect on her. Goddess’s little visit disturbed her. The mammoth intern had seemed horrified that they’d seen her in that state.

She stepped off the elevator on the floor where Ian and the band were staying. They had a cluster of presidential suites and their rooms were on the Avenue Montaigne, a fashionable street lined with mature chestnut trees.

“Good morning.” Nathan’s melodious tone interrupted her thoughts.

“It’s noon.”

“Is Steph around?” Nathan asked, glancing past her.

“Sorry, I don’t have her in my pocket,” Cheyenne joked. “She’s in her room.”

Nathan graced her with an appreciative smile. His eyes lingered on hers and his confidence caused Cheyenne to clear her throat.

“Your pictures from last night turned out great.”

“I imagine you look good on film too,” he said slyly. Reaching out, he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. Cheyenne’s suppressed a gasp, startled by the intimate gesture. Without another word, Nathan walked on. After watching him a moment, Cheyenne shook her head and continued onto Ian’s room.

As she neared Ian’s hotel room, she witnessed an unfamiliar man exiting it. His piercing blue eyes met Cheyenne’s; he smiled softly, giving her a nod. Cheyenne silently wondered if he worked for the hotel, as she knocked on Ian’s door.

No one answered; she glanced at her watch to check the time and then knocked again.

“It’s open.” Ian’s voice resonated.

“Ian?” Cheyenne called as she entered the room.

“Ah… yes… Cheyenne, how are you?” Ian looked genuinely surprised to see her. .

“Fine, I’m here for the meeting.

“Oh. I forgot about that little meeting. I’m joining the boys in the Marie Antoinette Room, would you care to join me?” Ian barely looked at her. He seemed distracted and stressed, though he was putting on his best unflappable act.

Puzzled, she blinked at him. “Ok, I guess.”

“Great.” Ian turned to her and flashed his dazzling smile. Duplicity seemed to be his forte. She decided it was time to keep a closer eye on Ian, suspecting the real story of Fury would be found with him.

The moment she shut off her blow-dryer, Steph heard someone pounding on her door.

“Who is it?” Steph called out, as she wrapped her robe tighter around herself.

“Prince Charming,” Nathan’s voice called back. She looked out the peephole. He crossed his eyes, a goofy look plastered on his face.

She laughed and flung open the door wide.

“Hi. I heard the photos are fabulous.”

“Yeah, they are.” Steph guided him to the table and opened the file on her laptop. Leaving him to peruse her work, she disappeared into the bathroom to finish dressing.

“You know,” Nathan began when she returned. “You have an excellent eye. These are brilliant. I think for my next lesson you and I should—”

A huge crashing sound interrupted his thoughts.

“What the…?” Nathan jumped to his feet and quickly looked around.

“It came from Goddesses’ room.” Steph darted to the adjoining door. “Shit. It’s locked!”

“Try the one in the hall.” Nathan pushed past her.

“Hey! Stop!” she heard Nathan exclaim. She followed him into the hall. To her surprise, Nathan bolted past Goddess’s open door and ran full speed down the hall. She peered after him straining to see where he was headed.

The door was ajar, and Steph couldn’t help but think of her first encounter with Fury. She pushed the door open and entered the suite. Goddess sat on the edge of her bed, a phone to her ear. Steph was ill prepared for the disaster she encountered. The bedside table on its side, the dining table up was ended, and the room looked like it had been tossed. Goddess spotted her and slammed the phone down. She had a red mark that looked like a hand print on the right side of her face and the gash on her eyebrow hadn’t stopped bleeding.

“I…was tired and I got dizzy…” Goddess mumbled. She seemed to search for the words.

Steph glanced around the room. “Did you lose something?”

“I couldn’t find my camera and I freaked.” Goddess seemed to become aware that she was bleeding and immediately applied pressure. Steph felt her own brow furrow as she noticed the camera bag on the table near the balcony and she was about to suggest that the explanation made no sense when Nathan entered the room panting.

“Someone….took off down the hall.” He gasped, bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. “I tried to catch up to him.”

“Did you get a good look at them?” Stunned at the turn of events, Steph turned numbly from Goddess, who avoided eye contact with her, to Nathan.

“No.” Nathan stood upright and put his hand behind his head. “Shit, I really need to quit smoking.”

“I think we better get you to a hospital.” Steph attempted to help the towering female to her feet.

“No. I just need to rest,” Goddess said. Once again her eyes darted back and forth, making her resemble a trapped animal.

“You could have a concussion; you should really get that checked out. “Steph’s words were firm. “I’m sorry, Goddess. I have to insist.”

“Ok.” Goddess sighed. “But can’t I have the doctor come here? I hate hospitals.”

She sat back down on the bed.

“Who the hell did this to you?”

“I told you, I fell.”

“Do doctors still make house calls in Paris?” Steph asked Nathan, ignoring Goddess’s blatant lie.

He shrugged.

“Listen, we’ll have the driver take you to the hospital. I’ll go with you.” Overwhelmed with empathy and cursing herself for being such a bitch, Stephanie decided to step up and take care of her intern.

“I’ll call them and tell them you are on your way. Let me help you to the car.” Nathan took Goddess by the arm and began out the door.

“Really I think I can manage!” Goddess snapped, shoving Nathan away. Though it looked like Goddess put no effort into the shove, he toppled to the ground.

“Jesus! I was just trying to help.” Nathan looked astonished. Steph stifled a giggle and helped him to his feet. They proceeded to the elevator.

“Oh crap! I forgot her passport!” Steph exclaimed. Her nerves were shot and she saw a couple of flashing lights in her peripheral vision. She knew that spelled trouble; she felt a migraine coming on. Not now, she begged and prayed for it to go away.

“Does she need it?”

Steph shrugged.

“Go ahead and take her to the lobby. I’ll get the passport.” Nathan lit a cigarette with shaky hands.

Goddess glared at Nathan; Steph thought it was strange that she seemed so hostile toward him and wondered if she was going into shock. As they sat in the car, Goddess fidgeted with her phone, and glared out the window. A range of emotions crossed her face and Steph made note that pain wasn’t one of them. Beginning to agree with Cheyenne that Goddess’s behavior seemed odd, Steph chewed on her nails and wondered what she should do about it. Relief overwhelmed her when she saw Nathan hurrying toward the car. Steph climbed out.

“Sorry.” He bent down to the car window. He handed Goddess her passport. “I called the hospital and they will be waiting for you.”

“What? Why?” Goddess spat. Her face contorted with annoyance. Nathan gave the driver the address. “He’ll take you.”

Steph shot him a look. “I don’t think she should go alone.”

“It’s Ok.” Nathan’s eyes locked with Steph’s and she was painfully aware he wanted to speak with her privately. Whatever it was he had to say, it seemed he didn’t want Goddess to hear it.

“Here you’ll need money.” Steph shoved a wad of cash at Goddess. Nathan grabbed her arm at the last second as if to stop her. Goddess snatched the money.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” she grumbled.

“Call us if you need anything!” Nathan yelled as the driver sped off. He turned to Steph and the set of his draw stopped her in her tracks.

“We need to talk.” He pulled out a bag.

Steph looked at the baggie of white power and felt her stomach twist.

“Where did you find that?”

“Sticking out from under Goddesses’ mattress. It’s cocaine.”

“No shit,” Steph sassed.

Nathan stuffed the bag into his pocket.

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to keep that on your person?” She looked over her shoulder and gave him a concerned sideways glance.

A troubled look crossed his fine features. Glancing around in a paranoid manner, he tossed it in the nearest trash can.

“Someone was in that room with her, probably looking for the drugs or money. When she didn’t give either, they gave her a sound thrashing.”

“This morning she barged into my room with that huge cut on her face.”

“She’s in some sort of mess, Stephanie. She’s dodgy. You need to distance yourselves from her.” Nathan looked like a nervous wreck.

“We don’t even know her. This is her first assignment with us.”

“Don’t you make people give urine samples to be employed in The States?”

“You watch too much TV, though I think I’ll write Dad a memo about instituting the policy.”

“I was coming to see you to let you know we’re having a private soiree in one of the conference rooms. I know I’m going to get pretty wasted after all of this,” Nathan commented as they walked back inside the hotel.

Steph nodded emphatically. She glanced at her cell phone clock and popped another pill. “I could use a drink… or six.”

Two imposing security guards flanked a sign stating ‘Private Party’. They nodded to Ian and Cheyenne as they entered the Marie Antoinette Room.

“Good afternoon Mr. Cornelius, Ms. Carson.” The guard opened the door for them.

“Hello and thank you,” Cheyenne replied smiling.

She barely contained a gasp as she took in yet another amazing space. Mirrored French doors, blonde engraved wood, and stunning chandeliers were a feast for her eyes. There was a long table set for lunch, and an enormous set of French doors were propped open leading to an adjoining room with a fireplace, wet bar, and lounging sofas. The weighty curtains were pulled back to reveal that they were street level and Cheyenne wondered how long they’d be able to keep them open before encountering trouble. For a moment she envisioned Fury fans as zombies in a movie, pounding and slobbering on the glass. Her smile quickly disappeared as she recalled the attack on her hair earlier that morning. Perhaps the comparison wasn’t that far-fetched.

Phillip, Bret, David and Scot sat near the bar laughing gregariously.

“Hello Boys!” Ian called.

“Hey,” David said.

Scot turned and, upon seeing Cheyenne, stood and offered her his chair. “Got a date, Ian?”

Cheyenne wasn’t sure if it was the thought of Ian in a romantic context, or the envious look in Scott’s eyes, but she felt compelled let go of Ian’s arm. Ian chuckled.

“What would you like, Cheyenne?”

“A nice cold beer sounds good.” Cheyenne felt like and intruder. Her discomfort increased when she glanced to her right and caught Scot staring at her. She shifted, uncomfortable in her seat. “What?”

She looked at him sheepishly, questioning her choice of attire. She hadn’t straightened her hair so it hung in thick waves down her back. She wore a spaghetti-strapped white sundress. Suddenly she felt many sets of eyes on her.

Scot smiled. “You look lovely.”

Unable to stop herself, Cheyenne glanced at the others. His band mates nodded in agreement and raised their beverages, as if to salute the sentiment.

“Your beer.” Ian handed her the glass.

Cheyenne took it and downed the liquid. She handed the glass back. “Another, please.”

Ian raised an eyebrow and poured her another glass.

As she sipped her second beer, Cheyenne’s could feel Scot’s eyes on her. She avoided looking at him and let her eyes roam the room again. David and Bret had assembled by the fireplace. Ian made his way to join them. Phillip tossed back a shot and left the bar.. Cheyenne stole a glance at Scot, who seemed to search her eyes. Without a word, he stood and joined the others. Soon the band and their manager were in deep discussions about an upcoming television appearance on a Parisian talk show. Feeling like a party crasher, she decided to text Steph and invite her down. She had her phone in her hand when Steph and Nathan trudged in, their faces looking grim. Stephanie wore no make-up and seemed frazzled. Cheyenne went to her.

“You two look like you’ve been through airport security. What the hell happened?” Cheyenne asked.

“Please, let me get a drink first.” Steph brushed past her.

“Ok.” Cheyenne looked at Nathan expecting more information. The serious expression he wore did not ease her mind. She trailed after them, curiosity driving her mad. Nathan glanced at her over his shoulder. He stopped suddenly, turned to her and placed both hands gently on her shoulders.

“Just give her a moment,” he murmured, his green eyes locking with hers. His thumbs seemed briefly to caress her shoulders, leaving Cheyenne bewildered as he turned back to the bar.

“What will it be?” the bartender asked.

“Rum,” Steph ordered forcefully, and the bartender gave her a sideways glance. “Splash a little Coke in there if it makes you feel better.”

Cheyenne noticed Steph rub her temple and groaned inwardly.

“Where have you two been?” Bret playfully taunted.

Cheyenne saw him taking in Steph’s ruffled appearance.

“Neither one of you are glowing.” Phillip smirked looking from Nathan to Stephanie.

From behind, Cheyenne couldn’t see Nathan’s face, but whatever look he gave Phillip seemed to shut him up.

The bartender gave Steph her drink, and she downed it. “Keep ‘em coming.”

“Wow,” Phillip chimed in. “A little thirsty today?”

Steph turned in his direction and fixed him with a withering gaze. Cheyenne watched as they stared each other down.

“Can I come see some of your photos tomorrow before my interview?” David asked as he sauntered to Steph.

“Sure, you can come around 11.” Steph picked up her second rum and grabbed Cheyenne’s wrist, leading her to a quiet corner.

“Do you need a pill? I saw you rubbing your head.”

“I took one.”

“Ok, let’s hear it,” Cheyenne whispered.

Steph stared at her drink. “Goddess had another spill in her room and we sent her to the hospital to get checked out. She says she’s OK.”

The room was eerily quiet, and Cheyenne noticed the men were listening in. For ten seconds you could hear a pin drop. Suddenly, everyone began to ask questions at once. Nathan silenced them with one hand. Cheyenne marveled at his control and startled herself as she wondered if he was as commanding in bed.

“She collapsed and bumped her head on a piece of furniture. End of story. Let’s drink.”

Phillip chuckled.

“Try having some compassion, you jackass,” Steph snapped.

His eyes flew open wide and his mouth snapped shut. Cheyenne covered a smile with her hand. She turned her attention back to Steph, suspicious of her newfound protectiveness for Goddess.

“Steph,” Cheyenne prodded, whispering so only Steph could hear. “Is that the entire story?”

“No, we found drugs in her room and it was ransacked. Some guy ran out of her room and Nathan chased him away.”

“Jesus Christ!” Cheyenne blurted, much more loudly than she intended to.

“Is everything alright?” Ian inquired.

Cheyenne smiled sweetly. “Everything’s great.”

Ian glanced at her for a moment, then continued his conversation with the band.

Cheyenne turned to Steph. “I can’t believe it. That girl is troubled.”

“True, but there has to be more to it.”

“It’s plain and simple. She’s a drug addict.” Steph shrugged.

“But you said a man was running from her room.”

“So?” Steph said, rubbing her head.

“I heard a guy in her room last night.”

“And?” Steph motioned for Cheyenne to go on.

“Maybe she’s gotten in with a bad crowd...”

“What is this, an afterschool special? He was probably her dealer. I have to get out for a while. I need some fresh air…” Steph ran her hands through her fiery hair. She tapped her swizzle stick on her crystal glass. “Would any of you like to go to The Eiffel Tower for an impromptu photo shoot?”

“I suppose that would be fine. I’ll have security go along, just to make sure there aren’t any issues,” Ian said with a shrug.

“Sure,” Nathan replied. “I’ll go.”

“Me too,” David said and Bret nodded in agreement.

“Phillip, how about you? All I have are concert shots of you.” She stood, crossing her arms.

Phillip looked at her with indifference.

“You can see the wretched tower from my balcony, we can go to my room and you can photograph me there...” he scoffed.

The room was dead silent and Bret and Nathan began laughing uproariously.

Cheyenne watched as Phillip blushed and she nearly giggled at his double entendre. Steph looked like a professional poker player, stoically waiting for a reply.

“I’m not in the mood,” he blurted.

Bret and Nathan burst into fits of laughter again. Steph looked away from him and turned to leave, murmuring something to Nathan. Phillip’s refusal to cooperate with them was really pissing Cheyenne off; she wanted to smack the smug look off of his face.

“Cheyenne are you coming?” Steph turned to back her.

“No I think I’ll stay here. I have a bunch of work I need to get done and I’m really tired.” Cheyenne rested her head on the back of the sofa comfortably.

“Scot?” Steph asked.

Scot glanced at Cheyenne.

“Nah. I think I’ll stay.”

Steph and Nathan both rolled their eyes. Cheyenne stole a glance at Scot and caught him giving Nathan a dirty look.

“I’m going to my room,” Phillip blurted to no one in particular.

It wasn’t long before they’d all left, leaving Scot and Cheyenne in silence.

Scot turned to the bartender. “Excuse me, what was your name?”

“Jean, Monsieur.”

“How about it, Jean? Could you take a long break?” Scot shook hands with the Frenchman. Cheyenne suspected he’d slipped him some cash. She had missed her window of opportunity to flee along with the others and was surprised at how pleased she felt to be alone with him. Jean smiled.

“Oui, Monsieur. As you wish.”

“My, it’s gotten quiet in here.” Scot walked to the stereo. He turned on some soft music. He made his way over to her and offered her a hand. She looked from the hand to his dark eyes and took it. He led her over to the sofa near the fireplace. Caution tugged at her, and she was relieved when he gestured for her to take a seat. She sat as he opened a bottle of wine.

“I’m afraid you have the upper hand. You know quite a lot about me now and I know nothing about you. Wine?”

“Sure.” She sat back on the loveseat and watched him pour.

“So, what do you say?” He wiggled his eyebrows devilishly, “May I interview you?” His dark eyes sparkled with curiosity.

As he stood by the fireplace, he graced her with a dazzling smile. He exuded confidence and class. Instinctively, her eyes traveled the length of his lanky body and she reflected on the sight of him naked. Dirty mental images flashed through her mind. Scot must have noticed something in her expression, because his grin turned from warm and welcoming to lascivious. Despite her business ideals, she felt her resolution crumbling. Scot Charles was the entire package and she found him captivating.

“What do you want to know?” she asked, her voice husky.

“I don’t know.” Scot shrugged and took a seat. “Just tell me about yourself. I would love to know your story.”

“OK,” she replied, and stopped to sip the wine. It was dry and citrusy. She sipped it again, and tried to relax.

“I was born in a small town in Iowa but I was conceived in Cheyenne Wyoming, hence the name,” she joked with a self-depreciating eye roll.

Scot grinned appreciatively.

“I think it’s lovely…exotic. It suits you,” he offered. “Continue.”

“I’ve been writing all of my life. I guess I always knew that’s what I would do. I’ve worked at The Sound Wave for a couple of years.”

“Great magazine,” Scot said, tossing his long curly hair away from his eyes. In the dimly lit room, the shadows emphasized his chiseled features. She’d always been attracted to tall, dark, and handsome types and Scot was no exception.

“What else?” Scot asked as Cheyenne attempted to collect her thoughts.

“That’s it.” She threw her hands up with a laugh. The rest of her story seemed provincial or shameful. The thought of him knowing about her past as a stripper nearly made her nauseated.

Scot waved a finger at her.

“Ah, so that’s how it’s going to be. What’s the saying… ‘doctors make the worst patients’? Journalists make the worst interviewees?”

“I lead a very boring life. Believe me, this is the most excitement I’ve had in a long time.” His gentle nature made her feel so comfortable. Too comfortable. Remembering herself, she sat up a little straighter.

“How old are you Cheyenne?”

“That’s a rude question.” She tossed her dark hair coyly.

“I answer rude questions all the time,” Scot countered.

“No you don’t, you don’t give interviews,” Cheyenne retorted. Scot watched her expectantly. “I’m 26.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

“Where do you live? Is The Sound Wave in New York City?”

“Chicago.”

“Ah yes, The Windy City. Gangsters…Lake Michigan. I have always wanted to visit.”

“I could give you a tour and you could meet all my gangster friends.’ Cheyenne joked.

Scot laughed and nodded.

“Alright, I will admit, my travel information on Chicago might be a bit dated.”

“A bit.” Cheyenne grinned.

“Any family? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“One of each. But I don’t claim them.”

“Care to elaborate?” He asked carefully but she waved her hand as if to say ‘move on’. He shrugged.

“I have one brother. He’s married and has two daughters. Those two imps are my favorite people in the world.” Scot’s broad smile lit up the room.

She took a sip... “This is really good. So, is that all you want to know? Please say yes; the pressure’s too much.”

“Yes,” Scot conceded, allowing Cheyenne to breathe a melodramatic sigh of relief. “For now”.

They shared a moment of silence, staring into each other’s eyes. Cheyenne was flooded with images of touching him in inappropriate places. The level of her arousal startled her.

“What are you thinking about?” Scot asked, pulling Cheyenne out of her introspection.

“Huh?”

“You looked so involved in your thoughts.”

Her lips curved slightly as she imagined his reaction if she were to share her thoughts out loud.. “I’m tired. It’s been a hectic few days. “She folded her shaking hands in her lap.

“I’ll agree with you on that one.” He never took his eyes off of her.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” He stood.

“A little,” Cheyenne confessed.

“I’m sorry.” Scot walked to the window. He opened it and a gentle breeze blew in. He lit a cigarette, silently offering one to her. She joined him. “It’s just that you intrigue me.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls.”

Scot shook his head.

“I don’t really speak with many women, Cheyenne. Unless you count groupies screaming and clawing at you while hurling panties in your face a conversation.” This comment was a lifesaver to her. She’d regained some sense of reality. This man was literally a sex symbol. She couldn’t afford to be sucked in by his charms.

“Would you like another drink?” He asked.

“No, I’ll be drunk before 3!” Cheyenne joked “I should go get to work.”

Scot leaned closer and her pulse sped to a gallop. She crossed her arms as if to deflect from his magnetic pull.

“Why did you stay, Scot?”

“I wanted to get to know you a little better. I needed to be alone with you.”

“I knew you were up to something,” Cheyenne joked.

“Well, with Nathan and Ian around, I really couldn’t get a word in. They gab like old hens. I haven’t been able to get you alone since Liverpool. I just wanted to speak with you one on one again.

Cheyenne smiled, feeling a little flattered; however, her internal alarms were blaring. Conflicted, she needed to be alone to examine her situation. Was it possible that she could explore her attraction to Scott without mucking up the job at hand?

“Why did you stay, Cheyenne?” He asked.

“I have no idea.”

“I have a theory.”

“Oh? Do share.”

“I think you’re curious,” Scott replied after a small pause. He licked his lips and Cheyenne suppressed a shudder.

“Curious about what?’

“About mixing business with pleasure. About breaking the taboo.”

Scot moved closer. As he reached out to stroke her cheek, Cheyenne bit the inside of her lip. His gentle touch sent a shiver from her scalp to her toes.

“Well I should really get busy. I’ve been going a million miles an hour and I think exhaustion is setting in.” She put her cigarette out abruptly.

“OK,” Scot said with a small grin. “I can take a hint.”

“What do you mean?”

“You obviously aren’t interested in me. I shouldn’t have come on so strong.”

“No, you’re definitely interesting.” Cheyenne touched his arm before she could stop herself. The tingle shot through her to her loins and she moved to pull her hand away.

Scot swiftly caught her wrist and pulled her to him. There was no denying that his touch drove her crazy. She closed her eyes and tried to gather her senses. Without warning, Scot leaned in to her and his hands cupped her face. As his lips met hers and he tasted her gently, Cheyenne broke out in goose bumps; the electricity between them spiked white hot, threatening to consume her. She placed her hands against his chest and pushed him back. He pulled away.

“Have dinner with me tonight,” Scot whispered, tracing her lower lip with his thumb..

Cheyenne’s mind still reeled from his kiss. She gulped and cleared her throat. “I’m not in the habit of sleeping with men I hardly know.” Once more, he surprised herself . She was rarely this candid.

“That’s a refreshing change.” Scot’s eyes seemed earnest, “I’m appalled by fast women. That’s more Nathan’s style.”

Cheyenne laughed at his bluntness.

He placed his hands in his pockets.” So? Dinner?”

“I don’t know…” Cheyenne shook her head. She knew spending any time alone with Scot was playing with fire.

“It’s just a meal...no expectations. Perhaps I can show you The Eiffel Tower at night. If it makes you feel better, we can take Ms. Brier along. She needs more photographs of me anyway.” He shrugged and his proposition seemed innocent.

“OK.” she replied. Scot was like no man she’d ever met. He somehow seemed both provocative and protective. Crossing this line with him was diametrically opposed to her personal ethics. Instead of feeling shame at breaking herself imposed code, she felt intrigued.

“I’ll stop by your room around 7:00.”

Cheyenne nodded breathlessly.

He walked her to the door, his hand on the small of her back, and opened it for her.

All the way back to her suite, Cheyenne felt like she floating.

“That’s great, very sexy!” Steph shouted as she eyed Nathan through her camera lens. He was very photogenic and an obnoxious camera hog. As she changed lenses, she turned her camera on Bret, who was on his cell phone. He smiled then waved to the camera, never removing the cell phone from his ear.. She stopped for a moment to adjust her aperture and searched for David. She found him standing by the fence, his gaze fixed on the blue sky over Paris. Steph composed her shot and captured the moment. The sound of her shutter got his attention and he smiled at her, revealing dimples. Playing with different techniques such as Bokeh and Contra jour, Steph had been busy and was having a blast, but time was flying and she was losing the light. Unfortunately, the pain in her head had escalated throughout the shoot.

“Excuse me, children, we really should go,” Ian said, pointing down at the fans swarming at the base of the tower. They hurried to the elevator. On the way down, the elevator jolted. Steph bumped into David, who grabbed her as she nearly lost her footing.

“Sorry.” Feeling like an idiot, Steph blinked at the flashing lights in her peripheral vision. Fishing for her sunglasses, she winced, her headache raging.

“It’s fine, really,” David replied.

“Hey, Steph. How do you think my pictures are going to look? I can’t wait to see them,” Nathan blurted.

“Narcissist.” Bret sniffed.

“They looked great through my lens,” Steph replied weakly. Nathan smiled and jumped, which rocked the elevator causing everyone to groan and complain.

When the doors of the elevator opened there was an eruption of screams. Steph’s head throbbed, nausea gripped her, and she staggered. She was coherent enough to recognize the situation for what it was—a full blown migraine.

“Stephanie?” David’s voice seemed too loud in her ears. Barely aware of her surroundings, she felt her knees buckle and the sensation of being picked up and carried away. The familiar sound of cameras snapping was the last thing she heard before losing consciousness.

Back at the hotel, Cheyenne flopped down on the bed. She could still feel Scots lips on hers and his touch on her skin. Never had she been touched so tenderly. She stared at the ceiling as if in a trance.

Someone pounded on the door. She sat upright, pulse racing, and ran to the door. She peeked through the peephole; outside stood David and Nathan. David held Stephanie in his arms like a princess in some child’s fairytale. She flung the door open.

“What’s going on?” Cheyenne asked as Nathan and David hurried in.

“We were at the tower with a ton of fans lurking at the bottom. As soon as we got off the elevator she passed out,” Nathan explained.

“I had to carry her to the limo.” David placed Stephanie carefully on Cheyenne’s bed.” Should we call a doctor?”

“No it’s probably just a migraine and exhaustion,” Cheyenne said. “She needs medicine, quiet and total darkness can’t hurt.”

“Are you sure?” Nathan crossed his arms. “She puked on my Italian shoes.”

“Just put her on the bed. I’ll get everything.” Cheyenne opened the adjoining door to Stephanie’s room. Nathan followed her; she searched for Steph’s medical kit and found it in her bag. Turning, she accidentally dropped it and medical supplies spilled everywhere.

“Dammit!” She bent over to pick them up.

“Nice view.” Nathan purred from behind her. Cheyenne stood and turned to him.

“Excuse me?”

Without words, Nathan approached her moving like a stealthy cat. His eyes seemed to molest her as he brushed his body against hers. Cheyenne shivered. With a coy smile, he grabbed the back of her head, pulling her hair a little. Cheyenne couldn’t speak; she was frozen in place. Roughly, he pulled her against him and kissed her hard. His tongue was deep in her mouth. She found herself moaning.

“Mmm, delicious.” When he released her from his grasp, he took the medical kit from her. “I so look forward to our interview.”

Grinning lasciviously, he left the room. Shaking, Cheyenne’s knees buckle and she collapsed onto Steph’s bed. Scot’s advances earlier had aroused her, and Nathan’s aggression had her body aching for more caresses. What the hell? She blinked back tears. The sheer sexual tension she was experiencing scrambled her mind. She gathered herself, and then went back into her room. David was handing Steph pills and water. Nathan was nowhere to be seen.

“Will she be alright?” David whispered, turning to Cheyenne.

“I’ll be fine,” Steph, moaned, looking like death warmed over with her half open eyelids and insanely messy hair.

“Yes,” Cheyenne concurred, pushing her dark hair out of her eyes. “She just needs rest.” Minutes later, as she gave Steph a shot, she realized her hands were still trembling. Still reeling, her stomach sank when she realized Steph wouldn’t be able to go to dinner.

“I guess I’ll check on her later. Is something troubling you, Cheyenne?” David’s concerned expression nearly cracked Cheyenne’s well-built walls.

“I’m fine. Thanks for all you help.” Cheyenne felt guilty that she wanted him gone so she could talk to Steph alone.

“She reminds me of my kid sister.” David nodded at Stephanie, and then left the room.

“You sound upset.” Steph mumbled. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you sure you want to know?” Cheyenne moaned, brushing her hair violently from her eyes.

“Please, while I am coherent.” Steph grumbled, her eyes closed..

“Ok, I’ll make it quick. I have a dinner date with Scot tonight. He kissed me and then few minutes ago I was almost bedded by Nathan.” Steph’s eyes shot open.

“What? Ouch!”

“The only way I agreed to go to dinner with Scot is if you would go.” Cheyenne continued.

“Why the hell would I go?” Steph whined.

“To take his picture.”

“Evidently some people are taking this ‘City of Lovers’ thing a little too seriously.”

“I’m so turned on right now, just about any man would do. I’m afraid if Ian knocked on our door right now I might jump him.”

Steph didn’t respond.

“Steph…Steph?” Cheyenne realized Steph was out and fell back on the bed. Nathan’s advances had startled her. Aroused and troubled, she hoped Stephanie wouldn’t remember their conversation when she woke.

Phillip agonized as he lay staring at the ceiling, smoking a cigarette. He could feel the concierge roll over and press her naked body against him, but he didn’t bother to glance in her direction. Banging her had been a a bad move and he needed to get her out of his suite before Ian found out and got all cheesed off. He’d been pleased when she’d turned up at his door for a shag after her shift ended, but was horrified that his thoughts kept returning to Stephanie whilst in the throws. Ms. Brier was undoubtedly a pain in the arse, but she seemed to have burrowed under his skin for some frustrating reason.

As he showered, he reflected on his last encounter with Stephanie. He’d been out of line when he’d verbally attacked her family. He was quite close to his own family and suspected he’d crossed a line with her; he wouldn’t be able to make amends for it anytime soon. His motives for lashing out at her were unclear, even to him. He considered that he’d grown accustomed to being respected and admired and Stephanie seemed to think he was a joke. He found her maddening and this brought out the worst in him.

As he left the shower and finished grooming, he made as much noise as he could muster to wake the stranger in his bed. It worked and she was dressing when he headed out into the suite and toward the bar to get pissed. Unfortunately, the scantily dressed girl refused to leave without a kiss.

As he impatiently obliged, Nathan sauntered in looking pleased with himself as always. He cleared his throat. The girl jumped then turned to look at him.

“Oh! Mon Dieu! Nathan Clayton!”

“Hi’ya.” Nathan’s expression was positively vulgar.

“Yes, isn’t it fabulous? How terribly exciting for us all….” Philip rolled his eyes.

“A picture with you, Monsieur Clayton. S’il vous plait?”

“Sure,” Nathan replied. “Anything for a fan.”

The bird pulled a camera out and handed it to Phillip. Philip began searching his pockets for a cigarette; he quickly found one and lit it. The concierge blathered on to Nathan in French as Phillip took their photo. He smirked at Nathan, who rested his head on her sumptuous cleavage.

“Ok, Darling. Off you go,” Philip chimed in, waving her toward the door. She held up the camera as if to request his photo and he shook his head.

“No fair,” the girl replied. Nathan smiled, then gave the girl a kiss on the cheek.

Phillip handed her some money. Nathan shot him a look of mock disapproval.

“For the cab, of course.” Taking the money, she looked from Nathan to Phillip, who waved her on again.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Mate,” Nathan joked.

She quickly gathered her things and rushed out the door. Nathan burst into fits of laughter.

“That was a lovely bit of minge. Poaching from the hotel staff…aces.”

“Up yours, Wanker.” Philip took a long drink from a bottle of whiskey.

Nathan poured himself a shot of vodka. “Enough about you and your conquests, I need to fill you in on all the antics that occurred while you were up here getting laid Do you want to hear about my afternoon?” He lit a cigarette and sat down.

“Not really. But I’m going to anyway, aren’t I?”

“Up yours.. The photo shoot went well; I believe David fancies Stephanie.” He downed his shot. “And also, I could have bedded Cheyenne if we’d been alone.” Judging by Nathan’s expression, the thought excited him tremendously.

“Huh? I thought Cheyenne stayed behind? And what about David?”

“While we were at the blasted tower, a mob of fans turned up. Steph passed out on the elevator. David carried her to the limo, and placed her in bed when we got back here.” Nathan poured himself another drink.

“Ah.” Phillip felt gutted. David, though a quiet chap, was capable of chatting up any girl he set his mind to. “Is she alright?”

“According to Cheyenne, yes. Keep your pecker up, Phil…I believe Stephanie prefers you.”

Phillip considered this and dismissed it.

“How about a wager? It’ll improve your mood.” Nathan carried his drink across the room to where Phillip lounged.

“What the hell are you going on about, Twat?” Philip grumbled.

“I want to make a bet with you.” Nathan smiled.

“What kind of bet?” Philip was tired, but intrigued. Nathan was often ridiculous, but his antics helped pass the time.

Nathan leaned forward in his chair, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“I’ll bet you 500 pounds that I’ll bed Cheyenne before they leave us.”

“What? You’re daft… she’s a prude.” Philip laughed and took another drag. Nathan’s ego knew no bounds.

“I beg to differ.” Nathan waved a finger at him. “I could have had her just a few minutes ago.”

As he watched Nathan, who seemed lost in his thoughts, Philip exhaled smoke and shook his head. “She’s all business and most likely frigid. Scot’s been trying to roger her since Liverpool.”

“Scot couldn’t suss out what gets Cheyenne off if she painted him a picture.” Nathan often slagged on Scot. The two blokes were opposites and not close friends.

“I think your mistaken there, chap. So you’re on. This will be the easiest 500 pounds I have ever made, nancy boy.” Philip laughed. They shook hands Nathan leaned back in his chair.

“I also know Steph drives you mad,” he added. Phillip knew Nathan was harassing him. He quickly rolled his eyes.

“That hardly makes you Sherlock Holmes, she’s beastly.”

“No, I mean you fancy her.”

“What are you on about now, you idiotic git?”

“She’s your ‘Dream Girl’. From that song you wrote that the producer said was too soft for ‘Freudian Slip’. ‘Hair red like fire, eyes blue like the sky.’”

Nathan reciting his lyrics made Philip freeze in place.

“You were furious that they wouldn’t release it, raving on and on about your little muse. It describes her perfectly.”

Philip himself hadn’t made this connection, and he felt ill at the realization that Nathan was dead on.

“I hadn’t thought about it,” Phillip said glumly. “I’m surprised you aren’t trying to bed her, being a fanboy and all.”

“She’s a fit bird, but she’s on a pedestal for me. It would be sacrilegious.”

“So how are you going to get Cheyenne all alone? Scot’s always buzzing around her.”

“Give me time. I’m confident she won’t resist my charms. I think deep down she’s very naughty,” Nathan commented thoughtfully. Nathan kept the group on their toes; he enjoyed gallivanting and causing chaos. It was clear to Phillip that Cheyenne was into Scot. Phillip planned to sit back and watch him fall on his face.

Scot entered the room with a smile on his face.

“Hey, Chums. How’s it going?”

“Fantastic, what’s up with you?” Nathan asked. Scot beamed and Phillip could see he was elated.

“Got a date,” Scot replied, then headed for his bedroom. Nathan stared after him, gobsmacked.

Phillip chuckled enthusiastically and slowly applauded this turn of events.

Cheyenne slid into a black dress. Feeling confused and lost, what happened with Nathan earlier intrigued her. It had been a long time since she’d been with someone, and all this physical provocation had her body craving more. Though Nathan’s forcefulness had been exciting, she could still feel Scot’s soft lips on hers. Looking at herself in the mirror, Cheyenne silently wished Steph was awake. She needed her confidant as a sounding board for her erratic thoughts.

After a series of calls and texts with Goddess, she had finally convinced the intern to come to dinner in Steph’s absence. She glanced at the clock which read 7 pm. A knock on the door made her jump. Taking a deep breath she looked through the peephole. There stood Scot holding one red rose. Her heart skipped a beat. Quietly she opened the door and silenced him with one finger to her lips, pointing to Steph who was asleep in her bed. She ushered him into Steph’s room.

“What’s going on with Ms. Brier?” Scot asked once inside.

“She has a migraine. It happens now and then. She takes medicine to prevent it, but the time zone changes are probably not helping.”

“Oh my, that must be rough. So she won’t be going with us?” Scot smiled, his eyes lilting fiendishly.

“No, but I recruited Goddess to come along.”

“Oh.” Scot’s disappointment was obvious. He held out the rose to her.

Cheyenne smiled wryly and took it. Scot looked gorgeous, dressed in charcoal grey Armani.

“We need to stop at the conference room; I need to let Ian know where we’re going.”

“What are you going to tell him?” She smelled the potent rose and put it aside.

“I’m just going to say that Goddess is meeting us for dinner to do a photo shoot. Are you ready?” Scot held out his arm.

Cheyenne took it. Touching him seemed like the most natural thing in the world. “We have to stop by Goddess’s room. Do you think Ian will be upset?”

“He’s totally wasted right now, so probably not,” Scot retorted. “Come on, let’s go.” They stopped at Goddess’s door. Before they could knock, she had it opened. Her camera bag was slung over her shoulder.

“This is so cool,” she said, in typical Goddess fashion.

“Remember if anyone asks questions....” Cheyenne prompted.
“You are going to wrap up Scot’s interview and I am going to take his pictures because Steph is sick. I got it.”

When they entered the conference room, Ian was dancing a jig to the Irish drinking song on the stereo. The other members of Fury laughed and applauded.

“Scot!” Philip exclaimed drunkenly.

Nathan waved. “Hey, come do a shot with us.”

“Do you mind?” Scot asked Cheyenne and Goddess.

“No, it’s fine.” She felt Nathan’s eyes on her and avoided looking in his direction.

“I’ll wait in the lobby. I need to make a phone call,” Goddess said.

“What would you like?” Scot asked.

“How about a shot of vodka?” Scot handed her a shot glass.

“That’s my girl.” Nathan downed a shot and as she shot him a glance, smiled conspiratorially at her.

Cheyenne eyed him, her body still aching for his rough touch. She wondered if it was true that certain women would always flock to men who were bad for them.

Scot was at the bar talking to Ian who appeared unhappy.

“So, you two are going out tonight? Fabulous,” Phillip said. “Right, Nathan?”

“I’ll have a turn soon.” Nathan’s confidence made Cheyenne cock an eyebrow at him. She downed her shot and she leaned across Nathan, her face an inch from his. As he gave her a lusty smile, she sat down her shot glass abruptly on the bar and stood upright. Nathan stuck out his lower lip. Phillip burst out laughing. Cheyenne blushed momentarily then moved away from him.

“How’s Stephanie?” David asked.

“Still asleep.”

David nodded sympathetically.

”Here’s my room key so you can check up on her if you like.” As David took the key, Phillip began laughing.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” Phillip smirked.

“What?”

“Gave Davey Boy your room key…right in front of Scot. While rubbing your tits all over Nathan…who’s next?” He laughed again.

“Steph’s asleep in Cheyenne’s room, Phillip,” Scot retorted. He looked at Cheyenne.“Are you ready?”

“Yes, please.”

“Hey… I was just kidding!” Phillip called from behind them.

“You are seriously drunk, my friend,” She heard Nathan say as they left.

“I’m sorry, he can be such a tosser,” Scot stated, as they left the room.

“That’s not exactly a state secret.” Cheyenne murmured, but she wondered if Phillip was onto something.

Goddess was talking to the valet by the front door and waved to them as they approached. They stepped out into the gentle summer breeze. A stretch limo waited at the curb.

They climbed in and sat across from one another. Goddess sat next to Cheyenne. She felt so much more comfortable with someone tagging along with them, afraid she wouldn’t be able to keep herself in check around Scot.

“I hope you like escargot,” Scot said.

“Never had it.” Goddess said.

Cheyenne glanced at Scot who smiled and shook his head.

“Here we are, Monsieur,” The driver stated over the speaker.

Scot reached over and pushed a button. “Merci.”

He climbed out of the limo and held his hand out for Cheyenne. When she got out, they were standing in front of an abandoned looking building. “Come on.” Scott tugged her by the hand.

“Wait for me,” Goddess said from behind them.

Cheyenne’s stomach was filled with butterflies. She followed him into the building. As they entered the elevator, Scot pulled the gate across the lift and smiled down at her. Soon they stopped on the top floor and Cheyenne heard violin music carry on the summer breeze.

As she stepped off the elevator, Cheyenne looked around. They were on the rooftop. In the distance stood The Eiffel Tower, all lit up against the setting sun. One lonely table sat with candles alit and a waiter stood by a cart.

“Shall we?” Scot asked. Cheyenne felt overwhelmed and excited. The view took her breath away. As the violinist moved closer to them, she marveled that Scot had arranged such an elaborate scene on such short notice. She’d never been wooed like this.

They walked to the table and Scot pulled out chairs for her and Goddess. As they all took their seats Scot waved the waiter over. He poured wine and began serving them.

“Thanks for coming to dinner with me.” Scot flashed a gentle smile.

“Thanks for inviting me.” She replied, smiling back.

“Yeah, me too. This looks so good,” Goddess chimed in.

Scot’s eyes softened. He reached across the table to hold Cheyenne’s hand. His touch warmed her.

“I hope you’ll give me a chance to prove this isn’t a stupid rock star mind game. If I were you, I would think the same thing, especially when I pull a rock star move like this, I suppose. Scot leaned closer to Cheyenne.

“Hey, how do you work these things?” Goddess asked, holding up some tongs.

Scot looked at the floor. Cheyenne sensed his frustration.

“Would you care to dance?” He was close enough for her to smell his evocative cologne.

“Yes.” Cheyenne stood. She could no longer resist the urge to touch him again.

Scot led her to the dance floor and took her into his arms. He was silent for a moment.

“It’s a good thing you brought a chaperone. I’m finding it difficult to keep my hands off of you,” he whispered, his warm, wet lips grazing her ear.

As they moved her around the dance floor, she couldn’t help but imagine how well their bodies would mesh as lovers. It was as if they’d been designed for each other. She suddenly remembered Goddess was there and glanced over, feeling self-conscious. Goddess was on her cell phone, seemingly oblivious to them. Cheyenne focused her attention back to Scott His hand was on the small of her back and his grasp on her tightened. A sigh escaped her. His dark eyes stared into hers and Cheyenne felt like she could drown in those exquisite eyes.

Steph stirred on the bed, practically hidden under the mound of blankets. As she rolled over, pain shot to her right temple. She cried out and opening her eyes; she saw a figure sitting in the chair beside the bed. Terror gripped her; she’d forgotten where she was. She sat up and felt lightheaded.

“Kevin?” she whispered. She reached over to the lamp and switched it on. David was sound asleep, using his jacket as a blanket. Confused, she looked around and quickly realized she was in Cheyenne’s room. She remembered David, the elevator, and the screaming of the fans and eased herself back under the thick covers.

She shook her head at her own stupidity. Of course it wasn’t Kevin. Even though he had her itinerary, she doubted he’d show up. She was sure he’d only been with her because she was connected in the business. She hated that she’s wasted any time on him.

“Loser,” She mumbled out loud.

“Stephanie.” David startled her as he leaned toward her.” How are you feeling?”

“Like hell. Could you please get me my medical bag and some water?”

“Sure,” David said. Steph sat up.

“Why are you here…why are we in Cheyenne’s suite?”

“ Cheyenne asked me to check up on you.” David replied as he stretched.

“Where is she?” Steph asked.

“They aren’t back yet as far as I know.” He handed her the medication and water.

“They?” Steph rubbed her head and popped a pill.

“Yeah, Scot and Cheyenne went out. They took Goddess along.” David sat in the chair.” I really don’t know what he’s thinking.”

“What do you mean?”

“They have only known each other for a few days and he’s practically gushing.” He sounded very matter of fact. Steph looked at him and didn’t reply.

“Are you hungry? I can run down and grab something.” David seemed eager for a change of topic.

“No. I just want to sleep, but thanks for offering and thanks for checking up on me.” She was starting to feel significantly better.

David stood.

“I’ve never seen anyone get so ill with a migraine before. I was really afraid for you.”

Once he left, she sat up again. Climbing out of bed, she went to her room to search for her cell phone. Finding it, she saw a bunch of missed calls from her father. She dialed Cheyenne’s number. It went straight to voicemail.

“What the hell is going on?” she asked out loud. Steph plopped down on the edge of her bed. She checked the clock; it was midnight. She dialed her father’s number after calculating the time difference.

“Hello, Stephanie. How’s everything going?” Her father asked on the other end.

Steph took a deep breath.” I really want to talk to you about Goddess.” Her father was quiet.

“She is never here and, when she is, she is all over Fury like a groupie. She was hanging out with the roadies after the concert, and just being irresponsible. I think she’s on drugs. I just can’t deal with it anymore. Please fire her and send Gerald.” Steph rubbed her temples.

”You have to get along, Bonnie,” Her father replied, his Irish accent caressed his pet name for her. “You need to trust that I have my reasons for sending her along. You do trust me?”

“Of course.” Steph was taken aback by the strange tone in his voice. He sounded worried and this unusual state of affairs mad her incredibly uncomfortable.

“It’s going to be a long assignment. Just go with the flow with Goddess.” His voice was casual again. She was sure he thought she was being a diva and she realized this wasn’t unwarranted.

“I’ll try dad,” Steph grumbled.

“Other than Goddess, how are things going?”

“We already have tons of pictures. I think Cheyenne is holding two of the interviews this week,” Steph said.

“Do you think you will need the entire month to finish?”

“I hope not. I just want to go home. The travel is messing with my internal clock.”

Her dad chuckled.

“Sorry about what I said earlier. Kevin is my problem. I’m sorry he bothered you. I love you, Dad.

“I love you too, Lass. Keep up the good work.”

“We will. And Dad?” Steph paused. It was hard for her to apologize, but it was harder to fight with him.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“Me too, I didn’t mean to upset you over all of this.”

“Bye,” Steph whispered. Ending the call, she stared at her phone. Dialing Cheyenne’s number one more time, she got the same result. Then she tried Goddesses’ room. No answer there either. She walked to the adjoining door and leaned her ear against it. Voices of two people resonated threw the door. Listening closely, she couldn’t make out who the voices belonged to or what they were saying. She knocked on the door. “Goddess, are you in there?” The room fell silent. “That’s odd.” Fatigue overtook Steph and she needed to get off of her feet.

She sighed at the pile of luggage that was all over her bed. Not having the energy to remove it, she returned to Cheyenne’s room and curled up in the bed. Tears began to roll down her cheeks and she pulled the blanket up over her head. This was the worst thing about her migraines. The medicine and the migraine itself always made her teary and weepy. Loathing feeling weak, Steph willed herself to fall asleep and hoped she’d be herself in the morning.

“Thank you,” Cheyenne said as they rode back to the hotel. “The Eiffel Tower was stunning.”

“My pleasure.” Scot smiled.

“Yeah, it was so much fun. But I don’t like those squishy things we ate,” Goddess said. Cheyenne covered her mouth to stifle her laughter. Goddess had been on a roll tonight and by the look on Scot’s face, he’d enough of her. He cleared his throat.

“I want to spend more time with you. Do you want to have a drink with me?”

“I can’t I have to get to work on these pictures,” Goddess said with a shrug. Scot looked at her and shook his head. Cheyenne chuckled.

“Sure,” Cheyenne said. “One drink.”

Scot smiled and nodded.

They pulled up to the hotel. Once again Scot offered his hand as they exited the limo. Cheyenne stood too fast, making her head spin. Scot grabbed her and steadied her. They looked deeply into one another’s eyes.

“Follow me,” Scot whispered. As they parted ways with Goddess, Cheyenne silently wondered why he was leading her to a different area in the hotel. Buzzing from the expensive champagne she’d been drinking all evening, Cheyenne found herself stumbling a bit as they wandered through a maze of hallways.

“I need to take these damn shoes off,” Cheyenne mumbled, as she stopped and leaned against the wall. After two halfhearted tries, she heaved an exaggerated sigh.

“Can you help me?” She leaned her back against the wall and Scot loosened his tie.

“Gladly.”

Scot dropped to one knee before her and Cheyenne felt her pulse quickened. Seeing Scot’s face perilously close to her lower half, she could barely contain herself. Without taking his eyes from hers, he deftly removed one of her strappy sandals and tossed it over his shoulder. The sudden shift in her height nearly caused her to fall forward, but Scott caught her by the hips.

“Hold still.” His command thrilled her and she was ready to have him on the spot.

“I’m trying.” She pouted and she tightly gripped the railing behind her. As he removed her other shoe, Cheyenne lost her balance and toppled onto Scot. He managed to break her fall and she found herself lying sprawled on top of him.

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry!” Cheyenne’s body and brain were at war as she pushed herself up on all fours. She couldn’t decide whether she was more embarrassed or aroused.

“Don’t be sorry, Love.” Scot was propped up on his elbows and his gaze shifted from her eyes to her cleavage.

Without warning, the door beside them flew open. An old woman in curlers stood eyeing them and clutching her robe.

“Sacre Bleu!” She exclaimed and slammed the door shut.

Cheyenne and Scot exchanged glances and burst out laughing. Scot stood and pulled Cheyenne to her feet. They continued until they reached the end of the hall. He unlocked the Door and they entered the room.

The simple room was softly lit and a cart with strawberries and champagne greeted them. Scot popped the champagne and poured two glasses. He handed one to Cheyenne who took it as she looked around the room.

“So you were counting on a yes, I take it,” Cheyenne murmured.

“I was hoping. If you said no, I was going to come here anyway so that the others didn’t hear me sob into my pillow,” He said with a lopsided grin. “Strawberry?”

Scot presented a big, juicy strawberry and Cheyenne bit it. She washed it down with a sip of her champagne. Meandering to the open balcony doors , she took in the view. “It’s so beautiful here.”

“Yes, I agree,” Scot said from behind her.” Paris is my second favorite place. You can put that in the article.

“My feet are killing me.”

“Come sit.” He pulled a chair out for her. She obliged. Scot sat and moved his chair closer to her. “Here give me your feet.”

Cheyenne pondered it for a moment then placed her feet in his lap. He began massaging them and Cheyenne suppressed a moan. “Feet have pressure points that affect the way other parts of your body feel.”

“Really?” Cheyenne loved the way his hands felt. Scot looked up at her.

“Here you can help with headaches.” He moved his hands around. “Here with back pain.”

“That feels so good,” Cheyenne purred, closing her eyes.

“Is that better?” He asked. She opened her eyes.

“Yes, thank you.” She removed her feet from his lap. Scot leaned back in his chair. There was an awkward silence. Cheyenne finished her champagne.

“Would you like another?” Scot asked. Cheyenne eyed him, trying to get a read on him.

“I know… one drink, right?” He leaned toward her. Cheyenne had to fight herself; she wanted to reach out and touch him.

“Yes indeed… it was one drink,” she said in a soft whisper. Scot reached out and touched her face.His touch made her snap to attention. “I should go.”

She moved away from him and back into the room. She felt scared; vulnerability was an emotion she wasn’t comfortable with... He was so kind and gentle and seemed to be very interested in her. Her head was swimming with questions. Parts of her wanted to stay and others were screaming at her to leave. She felt him touch her back and shivered. Turning to him, they looked into each other’s eyes. Without words they leaned into one another. Their lips met, making Cheyenne’s knees weak. Scot took his time, his mouth exploring hers leisurely. Cheyenne pulled her mouth away, breathless.

“Scot...we can’t.” She looked at the floor. He placed a finger under her chin raising her eyes to his.

“What are you afraid of?” He looked into her as if he was trying to see into her soul.

“Tomorrow.”

Scot touched her face. “Don’t think about it.” he whispered.

They tangled in a deep sensual kiss. Scot led Cheyenne to the bed, still kissing her. Cheyenne allowed herself to be guided as if they were dancing. Scot unclipped her hair and it fell gently down her back. She could feel the bed just behind her legs, begging for her to take refuge there. He took off his jacket and began unbuttoning his shirt.

“Scot,” she began, wanting and not wanting him to stop.

“Shhh…” He leaned into her silencing her with his lips as he shrugged off his shirt. “I love kissing you,”

Cheyenne moaned and realized she was helping him dispose of his pesky shirt.

Scot’s hands moved to the zipper on the back of her dress. Slowly he unzipped it, pulling the straps down and revealing her breasts. He lips were on hers again, trailing down her jaw to her neck where he gently nibbled on her. Cheyenne gasped again softly, and grabbed at his belt, helping him remove the rest of his clothes. Their breathing was heavy as their kisses intensified. He pushed her dress down, following the dress with his mouth. He hungrily kissed and sucked on her breasts and trailed to her stomach until the dress was removed, leaving Cheyenne in her lace panties. His eyes scanned her body, heavy with lust, and he kissed her aggressively, his hands roamed everywhere. She felt worshiped, feeling like he was more interested in giving her pleasure than receiving it himself. He slipped his fingers under her panties and removed them. She removed his boxers and he graced her with a sly smile. Suddenly, he was on top of Cheyenne, the full length of their bodies intertwined. He explored every inch of her body with his hands and fingers, making Cheyenne quake under his touch. His kisses left her breathless as he positioned himself over her and entered her, forcing her to cry out. Scot moaned in her ear. He slowly moved on top of her, entering her again and again, driving her into a frenzy. Cheyenne felt her body boiling, and the sensation of an orgasm building. Amazement overcame her; she had only ever been able to achieve climax during self-satisfaction. She heard her own voice calling out Scot’s name. Scot stopped for a moment, his face inches from hers.

“You’re so beautiful,” Scot moaned.

Cheyenne opened her eyes and watched Scot; he was as close to the edge as she was. As they cried out together, he threw his head back, his dark curly locks gleaming with sweat. Scot relaxed against her, gasping. He kissed her lazily. As they laid together, shaking and trying to catch their breath, Scot pulled away and flopped back on the bed.

“Wow,” Cheyenne blurted, her head reeling.

They both laughed and he wrapped his arms around her. His warmth lulled her into a satisfying sleep.

Daylight demanded Cheyenne opened her eyes. She was greeted by the sight of Scot cuddled up next to her. She reached up and touched his face. He opened his eyes and his gentle smile tugged at her heart. They’d made love into the wee hours of the morning, and the sex had been awe inspiring. Waking up next to him felt so right. Torn between giddiness and guilt, she quickly moved her hand away.

“I have to go.” Cheyenne sat up and scanned the room for her clothes.

“Please stay,” Scot whispered as he gently stroked her back.

Cheyenne shivered. She wanted to crawl back under the blankets with him and never come out, but the real world awaited them and she knew delaying the inevitable would only hurt more.

She wrapped the blanket around her and stood.

“I had too much to drink. That can’t happen again.”

Scot stood, wrapping the sheet around his waist. His features seemed mixed in a cocktail of pain and exasperation.

A lump formed in her throat and she felt her eyes misting. Blinking wildly so that no tears could form, panic overtook her as the reality of what she’d done set in. She finally had her dream assignment and she was about to take the “walk of shame” back to her hotel room. Humiliated, she racked her brain for a smooth exit line. Finding none, she kept silent.

“This wasn’t a drunken mistake,” Scot whispered, snatching her into his arms. He delicately kissed her but Cheyenne pulled away from him and quickly gathered her clothes.

”I’m here to work.” She went into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She threw on her clothes, as if somehow they were to blame for falling off and allowing the previous night to occur.

After she washed her face, she opened the door, avoiding Scot’s eyes. “I have to go.” Grabbing the door handle, she paused for a moment as Scot touched her shoulder. Cheyenne continued out the door. She found an elevator and headed for her room.

Steph awoke to find David still asleep in her chair. She shook him gently. He blinked in a daze.

“What time is it?” He asked.

“Around seven I think.”

“Oh, I have to go. I have to call my girl. She lives in another time zone and I don’t want to miss her.”

“Thanks again for checking on me. Tell your girlfriend she’s a lucky lady.” Steph opened the door for him.

“Thanks,” He replied. Upon opening the door, Steph came face to face with Phillip, who had his hand raised to knock. David was already dialing his phone, as he gave Phillip a knowing smile and sidestepped him. Stephanie watched Phillip look after David and saw his hands close into fists. Phillip turned back to Steph and looked her up and down. Without a word, he stormed away. She watched him go, bewildered.

Not two minutes later, Cheyenne enter the room. Once inside she immediately went to the wet bar and poured a shot of whiskey, downing it.

“Breakfast of Champions? A little early for that isn’t it?” Steph asked. Cheyenne poured herself another shot and lit a cigarette.

”Where the hell have you been?” Steph demanded as she looked at Cheyenne’s disheveled appearance. Cheyenne sat down and took a long drag from her cigarette. Her expression wiped the smile off of Steph’s face.

“I called you like a million times.” Steph sat down next to Cheyenne.

“Sorry.”

“What’s up?”

“I did something stupid.” Steph eyed her warily. “I’m supposed to be here to do a job and I get swept in the bullshit.”

“What are you talking about?” Steph’s concern grew with every syllable Cheyenne uttered. Cheyenne downed the whiskey.

“I slept with Scot” A single tear slid down her cheek. “I couldn’t control myself.”

“Don’t blow this out of proportion.” Steph was stunned, but managed to keep the surprise out of her voice. Cheyenne never dated and Steph had begun to think she’d taken a vow of celibacy in some attempt to make up for her torrid past.

“How am I going to face him?” Cheyenne asked.

“You’ll do what you always do, put on your game face and move on.” Steph put her arm around her.

“I feel like such an idiot. I let my guard down.”

“You’re not the first person to ever sleep with somebody they work with. For God’s sake, Chey, you work so many hours a week, who the hell else are you supposed to meet/ If you were a guy, no one would bat an eyelash. Just take a breath.”

“Ugh, I have David’s interview this morning,” Cheyenne said, standing.

“Don’t worry about it, he’s calling his girlfriend. Go take a shower, get yourself together. I’ll text him and after his interview, you and I are going out for lunch.”

Cheyenne nodded. “Thanks Steph.”

“You’ve been there for me….Have you seen Goddess?”

“She was with Scot and me last night. She went in your place and made an ass out of herself. We parted ways in the lobby, and I haven’t seen her since. Why?”

“I was just wondering how her hospital trip went. Did she say anything to you about it?”

“She’s fine. The doctors said it was jet lag.”

“And you believe that?” Steph asked.

“I think we need to have a long talk with her. We can’t have her working for The Sound Wave while she’s using.” Cheyenne crossed her arms.

“I agree,” Steph said. “She’s definitely an issue we need to address.”

Cheyenne turned to go get ready, but stopped and turned back to Stephanie.

“Hey, Steph, Thanks for not judging me.” She retreated into the bathroom and shut the door. As Steph watched her go, her anxiety level began to rise. Cheyenne was always level headed and constant as the Northern Star. If Steph had to be the stable one, this assignment was doomed.

Knowing she needed to buy Cheyenne some time to regroup, Steph decided to go grab some breakfast and push back David’s interview. She texted him asking if he minded delaying for an hour. He agreed and asked that she meet him for breakfast in the courtyard and bring her photos.

When Steph arrived, laptop in tow, she was pleased to see Fury gathered at the table, minus Phillip and Ian. Nathan pulled out a chair for her. After pulling up the pictures, she passed the laptop to David.

“So where’s Cheyenne this fine morning? Nathan asked. Steph willed herself not to look at Scot.

“She slept in.” She kept her face neutral.

“Well she did say she was very tired.” Scot chimed in.

“That she did.” Nathan agreed, shooting Scot a suspicious look.

“Well, in her defense, some randy fellows left me on her bed. So she was stuck trying to sleep in my room. It can’t be easy trying to get ready for your day with some slug sleeping in your bed,” Steph lied.

Steph could feel Scot’s eyes on her and turned to look at him. He covered a conspiratorial smile.

“Wow these pictures are unbelievable. How do you make me look like that?” David said as he clicked through the photo album.

“You do look like that.”

“I think not. Nate certainly doesn’t look like this.”

“Thanks for your support.” Nathan held up a backwards peace sign that Steph recognized as the British version of the middle finger.

“Am I supposed to go to Cheyenne or is she coming to me?’ David asked.

“She’s coming to you.” Steph replied. Bret, who’d been silently reading the paper, flipped the page and burst into laughter. The entire table looked at him expectantly.

“You two made the society pages.” He chuckled, folding the paper. Scot snatched it from him, read it, and started laughing as well.

“What the hell?” Steph demanded.

“Here ya go.” He handed it to her, and Nathan peered over her shoulder for a quick look. She gaped at the half page picture. Paparazzi had taken her picture at the most inconvenient moment. It was from their trip to The Eiffel Tower when David had caught her and was lifting her into his arms. Out of context, it looked as if David had dipped her. Steph’s eyes were closed and David’s face serious. It appeared they were about to kiss.

“Nice.” Steph looked apologetic as she handed the paper to David. David looked at the photo and the color drained from his face.

“No good deed goes unpunished.’ Nathan teased.

“I don’t speak French. Do I even want to know what it says?” Steph cautiously eyed David, who continued to scan the paper.

“Probably not, Stephanie.” He replied his lips pressed in a tight line. Her stomach sank.

‘Well, on that happy note, I think I’ll go see if I can talk Phillip into letting me take at least one photo of him.”

“I wouldn’t do that.” Nathan looked serious for a moment. “He’s in a mood.”

“When isn’t he?” Steph mumbled.

“How was dinner?” Nathan asked turning to Scot. “Must have been quite an event. This morning I noticed your bed looked like it hadn’t been slept in.”

Scot shuffled uncomfortably in his seat and leaned his elbows on the table.

“Dinner was fine.” He looked at Nathan drolly.

“I’m sure it was a blast having Goddess along,” Steph chimed in.

“Oh yes, she’s lovely.” Scot’s sarcasm made Steph smirk.

Nathan continued to eye Scot. Steph thought he seemed angry.

“If you guys come with me, maybe you all could engage in a little peer pressure and convince Phillip to pose for some group shots.” It was an attempt to change the subject, but she was starting to get nervous that she would have virtually no photos of the front man.

“I think that could be arranged.” Bret snatched the check from the waitress.

“David, you could join us later, of course. I know Cheyenne will kill me if I delay your interview any longer…” David nodded at Steph curtly and her stomach sank. Her badly timed migraine had caused him unwanted media attention. She thought of his girlfriend and wanted to crawl into a hole.

Cheyenne was grateful for the extra time Steph had bought her, and was using it to transcribe Scot’s interview. She was nearly to the end of the recording. His voice was making it very hard to concentrate; she had goose bumps when she played back the part where he asked her to go to Brazil. She broke out in a sweat, thinking of him on top of her. Pushing through, she managed to finish typing and lit a cigarette.

As she sat shaking, Goddess entered the room. Cheyenne was so used to Goddess entering without knocking that she didn’t even look up from the computer.

“Hey.” Goddess plopped down with an open laptop, pushing it in front of Cheyenne’s face. “I was wondering…do you think I should use any of these pictures from last night?”

Cheyenne’s stomach turned as her eyes focused on the picture of her with her head resting on Scot’s chest. It looked like Scot was kissing the top of her head. Goddess reached out and clicked onto the next photo, in which Scot sat very close to Cheyenne in the limo. He was staring at her, a suggestive look on his face.

“Oh, my God, no. Goddess, you can’t show these to Steph, or anyone else.”

“Ok.” Goddess shrugged. “Seems like a tragic waste. It was obvious he didn’t want me there, and now you don’t want to use the pictures. Too bad. They’re good if I do say so myself.”

Cheyenne heaved a sigh of relief and started gathering her things.

“It’s time for me to find David for his interview.”

Goddess closed her laptop with a shrug.

"You know, Cheyenne, if Scot looked at me the way he looks at you, I would lose my mind. I’m not sure why it bothers you so much. The way he reacts to you…the chemistry you have...it’s a rare thing.”

With that, Goddess disappeared out the door. Stunned at the intern’s uncharacteristic insightfulness, Cheyenne stood looking after her thoughtfully.

As she gathered her equipment for David’s interview, it occurred to Cheyenne that she’d intended to check into Ian’s background. With all of the Scot/Nathan drama, it had slipped her mind. She dialed Gerald’s number and waited for an answer.

“It’s about time you called me, Tramp.”

A smile made Cheyenne’s lips twitch. “Hey!”

“So how are things…Has Steph bitch-slapped the intern yet? She’s been texting me since you left.”

“Not yet…but we’re planning an intervention.”

“Sounds intriguing.”

“Speaking of intriguing, there is something up with Fury’s manager. Do you have anyone in research that you trust?”

“I have a couple of fact checkers who can keep their mouths shut. What do you want?”

“I want them to check into Ian Corneilus. Anything they can turn up would be helpful.”

“I’ll work some magic,” Gerald replied.

“Hey. If you can get to it, call L.A. and see what the story is with Goddess.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Cheyenne’s gut told her calling Gerald was a good move. Something about Ian seemed off, but she just couldn’t put a finger on it. She continued to contemplate his odd behavior as she approached Fury’s suites. As she stepped off the elevator, she was nearly plowed down by Bret who was pushing Nathan wildly down the hall on a housekeeping cart. A middle age maid chased after them yelling in French.

Ignoring the commotion, Cheyenne proceeded in the opposite direction and noticed that Scot, David, and Stephanie were gathered around the open door of a suite.

“Hey,” Cheyenne said. “What are you guys up to? Watching the races?”

“No. We’re waiting for Phillip to get gussied up,” Steph retorted. Cheyenne gazed into the open suite and saw Fury’s hairdresser, with her magenta hair and dragon lady fingernails, dousing Phillips hair with hairspray.

“I didn’t know you were doing any group shots today.”

“I figured Phillip would have no choice if I brought the rest of the band along. Instead he’s just gonna stall, until I have no time and they have to go to sound check.” Steph looked exhausted.

“How are you this morning?” Scot asked Cheyenne, as he reached out to place a hand on her lower back. As she pulled away, she bumped into Nathan, who had appeared at her other side with Bret.

“Well, good morning to you too.” Nathan’s suggestive tone sent a shiver down her spine.

“I think we’re going to get kicked out of this hotel,” Bret, who was still a little out of breath, interjected.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” David remarked.

“You look a little sleepy, Cheyenne. Still having trouble with jetlag?” Nathan leaned close to her and placing a concerned hand on her shoulder. Cheyenne looked at Scot uncomfortably. Scot face turned red and in his brown eyes a storm was brewing.

“I’m sure that all this traveling is taking a toll.” Scot’s tone was ill humored. As Cheyenne moved to David’s side, she felt everyone eyeing her.

“Are you ready for your interview David?” To her own ears she sounded businesslike.

“I’m ready.” Phillip appeared at the doorway, looking airbrushed.

“You’re so sexy!” Bret said, moving in for a kiss.

“Up yours, Tosser.” Phillip dodged him, while trying to look dignified.

“Well, Hallelujah. Let’s get the show on the road,” Steph said, glancing at her watch.

“Shall we?” David asked Cheyenne. She nodded and he led her away to his suite. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Scot and Nathan glaring at each other.

David’s suite made Cheyenne and Steph’s rooms look like an hourly hotel on Skid Row.

“Tea?” David offered.

“No, thank you, David. Sorry for the delay,” Cheyenne chimed in.

“That’s quite alright. You shouldn’t trouble yourself with the tension between Scot and Nathan. There was bad blood there long before you arrived.”

“I don’t know what means.” Cheyenne blushed as she pulled her laptop out of its bag.

“Ok.” David shrugged.

“Come on, let’s get started.” The interview with David was fascinating. He’d been playing drums as long as he could remember and his earliest childhood memories were beating on a drum set in his grandfather’s music store. His apprehension regarding Fury’s success was sure to intrigue his fans. David said he would just as soon live anonymously in the countryside as be famous.

“But God help me, I love to play.”

He was the youngest son of a large family, had a twin sister (who he called “Kid”). Being on the road with the band reminded him of family gatherings. Everyone thought he was ‘the shy one’, however David insisted he wasn’t shy. He explained he just felt that ‘one only needed to speak when there was something relevant to say’.

“Thanks David. That was fantastic. You’ve given me a ton of information.” Cheyenne stood and they shook hands. David flashed a dazzling smile and nodded. They made their way to Phillip’s suite to join the photo shoot already in progress

“David, join us!” Nathan called from the bed. He sounded like Caesar at a Roman orgy. Cheyenne smirked, taking in the scene before here. Steph had all the guys draped on the king sized bed. Cheyenne took a seat across the room inconspicuously to watch Steph work.

“Where do you want me?” David asked. The comment was innocent enough, but in this context, Cheyenne started laughing. Everyone else joined in.

“Why don’t you move over here beside Phillip?” Steph looked up from the tripod and pointed to a spot on the bed. Goddess busied herself, assisting Steph with lighting adjustments and handing her new lenses.

Cheyenne watch as Steph photographed the band in various poses on the bed. Phillip seemed to be getting into the spirit, practically knocking David on the floor as if demanding to be the focus of the photo. Whenever Steph moved to get a different angle, Phillip seemed to move into the frame. His need to be the center of attention was laughable after the way he’d shunned them.

“Let’s move to the balcony,” Steph said with a sigh. Phillip had just stood up and blocked her view of the rest of the group. “Goddess, why don’t you take these and go develop them. We’ll catch up with you in a bit.”

She handed Goddess her mom’s camera and pulled out the new camera Nathan had bought her.

“More pictures of that bloody tower.” Phillip pouted like a spoiled child, and marched out onto the balcony.

Scot walked over to Cheyenne as the rest of the band filed onto the balcony. She sat up straighter in the chair and braced herself for whatever he might do or say. He leaned toward her and a sigh escaped her lips. She was sure he would kiss her; their faces only inches apart. He fixed her with an angry gaze and moved away suddenly. He had snatched his cigarettes off the table next to her. Scarlett faced, she stood and followed him to the balcony.

Phillip wasn’t exaggerating about his view of The Eiffel Tower. It stood predominantly in the background as Steph photographed the band. Phillip continued to ham it up and Cheyenne thought Steph was getting some pretty entertaining shots. She continued to position and reposition the group and change their location on the balcony.

“I’m taking a break,” Phillip blurted and walked out of Steph’s shot just as her camera went off.

“Nice,” Steph murmured as she continued to photograph the rest of the group.

After a few minutes passed, Steph turned to Cheyenne.

“What is he doing?” Cheyenne turned to look into the room and saw Phillip lying on the bed smoking a cigarette.

“Smoking.”

To Cheyenne’s surprise, Steph brushed past her, dashed across the room, and pounced on the bed. Phillip nearly dropped his cigarette as Steph stood on the bed straddling him. She began snapping pictures of him from above. The rest of the band filed into the room.

“What the hell are you doing?” Phillip cheeks were rosy.

“A few minutes ago you couldn’t get enough of this camera.” Steph continued to snap photos. “This picture is sure to be plastered on quite a few bedroom ceilings.”

“Do you two want some privacy?” Bret teased.

“We can put up the ‘do not disturb’ sign on our way out,” Nathan chimed in.

“Are you hungry, Chey?” Steph dismounted the bed as if nothing had happened.

“I could eat.”

“We’ve got a few hours before the concert, let’s go find a café. Steph exited without a word to anyone. Embarrassed by Steph’s curt exit, Cheyenne waved to the band and trailed after her.

As they rode the elevator to the lobby, it stopped on their floor.

“Hi, Guys,” Goddess said as she entered the elevator. “Where are you two off to?”

“We were just going to a café.” Cheyenne replied.

“Oh that sounds great. Can I come?” Goddess asked. “Stephanie, I want you to see some of the pictures I took.”

Cheyenne thought of Goddess’s photos of the night before and blushed. She quickly remembered she was the leader of this team and responded.

“Sure. We really need to talk about the information we have and try to get on the same page.”

“Awesome,” Goddess replied.

Steph sighed laboriously. Once in the lobby, Ian approached them, with a paper in his hand.

“Oh, Shit.” Steph’s cautious tone made Cheyenne instantly nervous.

“Hello ladies.”

“Ian,” Cheyenne said.

“Have you seen this morning’s paper?” Ian asked with a raised eyebrow. Genuinely clueless, Cheyenne shook her head.

“Have a look,” He responded, holding it out to her. She took it and gaped at the picture. It was taken at the base of the Eiffel Tower. The rest of the band had been cropped out, and the way it was shot made Steph and David look like they were all over each other.

“What does it say?” Cheyenne asked looking around for help.

“Hell if I know, I took Italian and Japanese,” Steph mumbled..

“It says that Fury’s drummer, David Evans and Stephanie Brier, American photographer and Kevin Wyle’s ex were spotted cavorting around Paris,” Goddess said, looking the page up and down. Cheyenne shot Goddess a surprised look.

“You can’t be serious!” Steph threw her head back in exasperation.

“I didn’t know you spoke French,” Cheyenne commented, studying Goddess’s face.

“Uh, I can just read it a little.” Goddess’s answer was dismissive, but her expression convinced Cheyenne she was lying.

“This isn’t exactly the kind of publicity that Fury was looking for. David has a serious girlfriend and isn’t at all pleased with this turn of events. You need to take more care when in public with the band,” Ian scolded.

“You know as well as I do that there’s no way to control the paparazzi. They doctor photos and twist the truth,” Steph replied.

Ian ignored her and turned to Cheyenne.

“I feel like such a fool but I have misplaced Mr. Brier’s personal phone number and I really need to talk to him. Could I get that from you?”” He crossed his arms.

“Sure.” Cheyenne dug through her purse and found a pen and a piece of paper. She wrote down the number and handed it to Ian.

“Thanks.” With a cold look at Stephanie, he walked away.

Cheyenne and Steph glanced at each other. When Ian was out of earshot Cheyenne stated, “That was awkward.”

“Yeah it was.”

The three of them made their way to a nearby café. They were seated outdoors and after ordering, Steph turned to Goddess who was cueing up her laptop.

“So, Goddess what did the doctor say? Did you have to have stitches?”

“No, no stitches, he said I was just really tired, more than likely jet lag, no biggy.” Goddess shrugged.

“It is a big deal. I mean you were a mess yesterday and scared the hell out of everyone,” Steph blurted.

“It was an accident, and I don’t need a lecture. I know I’m an intern, but I don’t need to be treated like a child.” Goddess stood.

“We aren’t trying to be your parents, but we’re here to do a job and be professional...” Cheyenne stopped mid-sentence. How dare she lecture Goddess on professionalism? Feeling hypocritical, she clamped her mouth shut.

“What Cheyenne is trying to say—”

“Oh, I know what she’s trying to say. And it’s hilarious considering the source. Cheyenne just went on a date with a band member last night, and you just got an ass chewing from their manager for that picture with David. I’m outta here,” Goddess blurted.” I’ll see you at the show.”

Goddess was on her feet and turning toward the exit.

“Nathan found your little stash,” Steph hissed. Goddess spun around and slowly took her seat.

“What are you talking about?” Goddess shook her head.

“The cocaine…under your mattress.”

“I…I can’t believe this…someone must have put it there or it was there before we checked in. I don’t use.”

“Someone put it there? That’s your story?” Cheyenne found her voice. Though she didn’t believe Goddess for a second, the intern seemed completely taken aback.

“It wasn’t me.” Without another word she walked away.

“That went well,” Steph remarked as their waiter arrived and placed their drinks in front of them.

“Something more is going on. I think I just might do a little snooping,” Cheyenne sipped her drink thoughtfully.

“Just be careful, Goddess could break us both in half with one hit.” They laughed together.

“She had a point, didn’t she? We’re not exactly fine role models.”

“True. So tell me more about last night.” Steph inhaled the aroma of her coffee.

Cheyenne sighed. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Too bad. I do,” Steph said.

Defeated, Cheyenne sat down her fork..

“I really do like Scot. He is very smart and gracious. I just wish I would have kept my clothes on instead of falling into bed with him. I’m not very proud of myself.” Cheyenne poked at her food.

“Sounds like the only problem with this situation is how you feel about what you did. If you are convinced it was a mistake, forgive yourself and just move on. What did you say to me yesterday? Something about Nathan scaring you? What is that all about?” Steph raised an eyebrow.

“I hoped you wouldn’t remember that.” Cheyenne sat, wide eyed. “He molested me in your room while we were searching for your medication.”

“What do you mean…molested?” She leaned forward, intrigued.

“He attacked me. Pretty much violated my space…grabbed me by the hair and kissed me.”

“What did you do?” Steph asked, her eyes wide.

“I couldn’t move. I was so shocked. What the hell should I have done?” Cheyenne sighed.

“I don’t know, but speak of the devil.” Steph nodded.

“Hello,” Nathan chimed in from behind her, his thick British accent made Cheyenne quiver.

“Hi,” Steph’s tone was neutral. Cheyenne looked at her plate and refused to look at Nathan..

“I just passed Goddess on the street and she seemed extremely upset.” Nathan pulled the chair out closest to Cheyenne and sat. He grabbed a piece of fruit off Goddess’s untouched plate and started eating it.

“Well, she should be. We confronted her about the cocaine. Of course she denied it. She said someone planted it there.” Steph took a bite of her food.

“Naturally.” Nathan looked at Cheyenne. “So how did the date go?”

“It wasn’t a date.” Cheyenne wiped her mouth with a napkin, no longer able to avoid looking at him. His eyes had an alluring quality that held her spellbound..

Nathan leaned back in his chair. “Scot is a little distant this morning. He won’t talk about it either.”

Memories of the love making marathon the night before flashed through Cheyenne’s mind. She felt overwhelmed and wanted to run from Nathan’s probing questions.

“So, what time are sound checks?’ Steph intervened. Cheyenne looked at Nathan as he leaned closer to her.

“In a couple of hours.” Nathan didn’t even glance in Steph’s direction, as his roaming eyes continued to peruse Cheyenne. “So the day after tomorrow?”

“Hmmm...?” Cheyenne was caught up in Nathan’s lascivious gaze.

“My interview.” He brushed her hair away from her face.

“Oh…yeah.” Cheyenne shifted in her seat. “Looking forward to it.”

He winked at her.

“Well I really must be going.” He stood.

“See you at the after party,” Steph said.

“Can’t wait.” Nathan walked away.

Once he was out of earshot, Cheyenne turned to Steph.

“See I told you.”

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Nathan’s a flirt.” Steph shrugged.

“Maybe your right,” Cheyenne conceded, but she wasn’t convinced. “But this is getting ridiculous.”

“Just go with it. It’s harmless right?”

“Harmless?”

“It’s not like either of you are married. Just don’t pull a Yoko and break up the band.” Steph was correct. They were all single, consenting adults. Still, she was finding it hard to be remotely objective about the subjects of her assignment. Though she knew she should be focusing on the article, when she thought of being alone with either Nathan or Scot, she wondered if she’d be able to restrain herself.

Cheyenne’s nerves were raw as she joined Steph in the lobby. They were riding in the band’s limos to the concert, and she dreaded being thrust into another confrontation with Scot or Nathan.

“What the hell am I going to say to either one of them?” She asked Steph.

“How about ‘Hi, nice weather we’re having’?” Steph checked her camera bag.

“Not funny. I don’t know if I can even look at Nathan.”

“Then don’t.” Steph shrugged.

“Let’s have a drink in the limo. I’m going to need something to dull the pain while we’re riding with Phillip. We have to go home soon before we both go into liver failure.”

“Why can’t we just take a taxi?”

“Because God hates us.” Steph adjusted her camera lenses. “At least Goddess went on ahead and we don’t have to deal with her.”

“Let’s go get this over with,” Cheyenne groaned.

As soon as they exited the lobby they heard the screaming fans. Cheyenne and Steph sighed as they were ushered into the waiting limo. Once inside Steph began taking shots of the chaos surrounding them.

One girl lifted her shirt and had her breasts smashed up against the window, screaming “Phillip I love you!”

Nathan and Phillip seemed gripped with hysterical laughter and Scot ignored the entire occurrence, his gorgeous eyes seemed glued to Cheyenne. Phillip stopped laughing and Cheyenne noticed him look from Scot to her.

“I’m guessing the date went well,” Phillip blurted. His observation wiped the smile from Nathan’s face . Cheyenne swallowed hard and looked away from Scot.

“The only question is—” Phillip began.

“Get bent, Phillip,” Steph interrupted.

He shot her a dirty look.

Cheyenne looked at Scot again. This time she couldn’t take her eyes from his. Preoccupied by the night before, she struggled to focus on anything but him.

Phillip leaned over to Nathan and began to whisper. Nathan whispered back and Phillip rolled his eyes and glanced at Steph. Cheyenne shifted in her seat praying for the drive to the concert hall to end.

“Hurry up, D.J. Dave. This won’t be a long ride and we could use a dance party. Some guilty pleasure…80’s music or something.” Bret smoked and tapped his foot anxiously.

David started the playlist and Steph clapped excitedly.

“Yay! I love this song!” She danced gleefully as Human League’s ‘Don’t You Want Me Baby’ thumped out of the limo’s speakers. Nathan made a huge production of lip syncing the lyrics to Cheyenne. Soon he was on his knees in front of her. Bret and David jammed obliviously, as if this were a normal occurrence. Phillip smirked, looking highly entertained. Scot shook his head at Nathan as if he were a tragic fool.

Cheyenne felt incredibly awkward until the female singer began her verse and Steph grabbed Nathan by the shirt singing it loudly at him in a bad English accent. This took the band by surprise and even Phillip chuckled. The following song was a quiet, low-key tune and everyone settled back into their seats.

“So Cheyenne what do you say we skip out on the after party?” Scot asked.

Cheyenne glanced at everyone’s expectant eyes on her. She looked to Steph pleading silently for help.

“You know, I think we will probably both skip the after party. We have mountains of work to do,” Steph chimed in.

“That’s a load of crap. You have to come,” Bret objected. “Who’s going to take pictures?”

“We’ll send Goddess along with you guys,” Cheyenne offered.

“Oh Lord.” Nathan rolled his eyes.

Soon they arrived at Zenith, the concert venue. Steph stopped to snap some pictures of the architecture.

“Thanks for saving my ass in the limo.” Cheyenne stated.

“Sure, I could feel the tension. And Phillip—what an ass! Why does he always have to be such a prick?” Steph changed the batteries in her camera.

“I don’t know, he is definitely a complete bastard sometimes, I wonder if he is repressing some sort of childhood trauma.”

Steph looked at her with a raised eyebrow and Cheyenne laughed.

“Or maybe he’s an egotistical asshat.”

The lights dimmed, and the fans cheered wildly.

After three songs, Steph pulled Cheyenne’s close and yelled in her ear.

“I’m going down front.” Steph pointed toward the stage.

“Ok. I’m going to use the little girl’s room. I’ll meet you there,” Cheyenne said.

Steph walked to the front avoiding the crowd as best as she could. As she neared the gate, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She groaned when she saw the same roadie who had given them a hard time in London. She suddenly felt nauseous.

Come on,it’s your job. Boldly advancing to the gate, he eyed her in a way that made her feel violated. She bit her lip.

“Hello, Red,” he began, looking at her with a mix of amusement and lust.” How did you sneak in here? Do I have to frisk you?”

Steph glared at him.

“What’s your name again?” Her voice was calm.

“ Duncan. Now you know what to scream in your erotic dreams.” He grabbed at her over the fence.

“Well, Duncan,” she side stepped his grasp and flashed her press pass.” I suggest you let me inside that gate.”

“I knew you’d come around.” He eagerly opened the gate and waved her in.

“She zipped through the gate and was enveloped in darkness. The shadowy entrance to backstage was cramped like a small tunnel. Steph’s eyes had no time to adjust to the darkness when he twirled her around by one arm and pinned her up against the wall. Her eyes shifted from side to side looking for someone to intervene, but there was no one in sight. His touch made her skin crawl. When her eyes adjusted, she noticed he had bruises on his face. It wasn’t surprising at all that someone would want to punch him.

“Get your hands off of me.” She tried to keep her voice steady, but she felt terrified. He outweighed her by over 100 pounds.

“How about you put your hand on me? You’re going to pay for that pass one way or another.” He fondled her and made an attempt to kiss her, but she wriggled away and smacked him hard across the face.

“Get out of my face or I’ll have you fired.”

He glared at her for a moment, and she wondered if he was going to hit her. Suddenly the scowl became a smirk.

“You think you’ve got power,” he laughed,” The only power you have is between your legs.”

Steph’s surprised expression made him laugh louder.

”You’re just another whore to them, I don’t care what you do for a living.” He came toward her again and she darted away. He caught her by the hair. As a little screech escaped her, he pinned her again.

“You’re disgusting!” Steph frowned. “You realize this is sexual harassment!”

He threw back his head with a husky laugh and released her. Steph pushed past him.

“Americans. You birds are a riot. By the way, how’s your friend feeling?”

She turned to look at him curiously when she was safely out of his grasp.

“What?”

“Goddess? She looked a little rough around the edges when I last saw her.”

Steph flipped him the bird and hurried away to the stage.

Making her way toward the pit at the foot of the stage center stage, she realized that if the fence broke she would be crushed by the immense crowd. Ignoring the threat, she started snapping photos from different vantage points around the foot of the stage. The angle helped her reinforce the imposing ‘Rock God’ image of Bret, who came up close to her and put a foot up on the monitor, handling his guitar in an incredibly phallic manner. Steph took total advantage of the moment, wildly shooting as many shots as she could. Adjusting her shutter speed, she was elated when Scot joined him. He flashed a wicked smile with a furrowed brow and as he threw his head back to get his hair out of his eyes, she captured every bead of sweat. Triumphant, she knew this picture would make the article and that it was sure to be an iconic rock photo, with Bret in the foreground looking criminal and Scot with his arm raised and hair caught in motion. Thrilled with the immaculate shots, she marveled at the stamina of band. They seemed to feed off of the crowd’s energy like virile vampires. Fury performed with all their might, and the result of their efforts was a raucous and potent live show.

Suddenly Phillip spotted her and bounded toward her. She gasped as the engrossed crowd pressed harder against the fence behind her. The weight and force stunned her. Phillip dropped to his knees and sang the very suggestive lyrics to her. He winked then reached out to touch her. Steph felt herself blush, but was powerless to look away or even to raise her camera. He ran his hand down her cheek then took off for the opposite side of the stage. Looking back he gave her angry smile and she knew then she was being patronized. Irritation percolated in her and she stopped and searched her bag for her telescopic lens.

“You’re blocking my view!” a menacing woman snarled as she and her two companions shook the fence and clawed at Steph.

They make Goddess look like Tinkerbelle.

“Screw you!” Steph yelled before she could contain herself. She hastened away immediately.

Wondering where Cheyenne had vanished to, she decided to go further into the backstage area to see if she was waiting there. Steph rounded a corner that led to the dressing rooms and a lounge area where catering had been set up. The usual cast of characters lurked in this makeshift greenroom. As Steph searched the crowd for Cheyenne, she observed blue tooth wearing pretentious suits, pretty boys with overdone hair product, up and coming supermodels who obviously hadn’t eaten more than the olive from their martini this week, and semi naked groupies molesting anyone who made eye contact. Still on the hunt for Cheyenne and wishing to avoid the debauchery, she slinked further backstage into the recesses of the labyrinth. She held renewed respect for all the time and effort that went into putting on a single rock show.

Rounding a corner, she witnessed several roadies lounging with groupies draped over their laps. One groupie had her shirt off, another was unzipping a crewman’s pants, and four additional roadies hovered around several lines of cocaine.

She walked past them without a second glance. She proceeded further backstage and as she rounded the next corner, she observed several road crew members loading crates onto a dolly. This struck Steph as an odd time to be loading equipment.

She spied Duncan approaching them from the opposite direction and she hid in the nearest doorway.

“We have guests, be cautious.” She heard him murmur to them.

She quietly turned and snuck down the hall the way she’d came. She reemerged near the coke table.

“Hi.” A young roadie advanced toward her. “Can I see your pass?”

He’d been the one with the topless groupie in his lap moments before. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand and sniffed. Glancing at the white residue on his nostril, Steph flashed her passes. Brushing past him, she snapped a series of pictures of the roadies who were sniffing white lines.

“Hey!” The young roadie tried to grab the camera from her, but her encounter with Phillip had honed her reflexes.

“Shut up before you say anything stupid, I’m in no mood.” She put herself between him and the camera. The roadies pushed away from the table and scattered and the groupies fled down a hall.

“Please don’t print those,” The roadie begged her, panic in his eyes.

“Maybe you can convince me.” Steph motioned for him to follow her into one of the nearby dressing rooms. As he closed the dressing room door, she turned to face him.

“What’s your name?”

“Sam Ridgley. What do you want?”

“I’m Stephanie. I’m with The Sound Wave.”

“What’s The Sound Wave? A tabloid?”

“What, do you live in a cave? It’s an American music magazine. We’re doing a story on Fury. Level with me, you see everything that goes on around here, don’t you?” Steph crossed her arms.

“Pretty much.” He fidgeted and lit a cigarette.

“I could use an insider who can give me information about Fury’s tour. Corruption amongst roadies isn’t a bad start. Why don’t you start by telling me whose cocaine that was?”

Sam laughed at her.

“Christ it could have been anyone’s. Everyone back here is on something or another. Well… maybe not everyone, but most of us.”

“Have you seen any of Fury use drugs?” she asked He was shaking as he took a drag.

“I think maybe you should ask them. It’s not place to talk about the band.”

“Spit it out, Sam.”

“Alright. I smoked a joint with Nathan once, but other than that no.” he looked over his shoulder at the closed door. I do know that they can hold their alcohol.”

“That’s all you got?” He nodded. His gaze shifted again to the closed door.

“Can I go?”

Are you afraid of something Sam?” she asked. His eyes were watery.

“Look,” he whispered leaning closer to her. “I’ll get myself killed.”

The sincerity in his eyes took Steph off guard. She watched the color drain from his face and was speechless. She hadn’t been expecting a story, she’d merely been messing with the roadie.

Finding her voice, she handed Sam her business card.

”I’ll be in the bands’ hotel. If you decide you would like to speak to me further, all my contact info’s on this card.” The door flew open and Duncan appeared.

“Show’s over,” Duncan said, and glanced at Steph. “Sammy, I can’t believe you didn’t call me. It’s unfair not to share.”

They both looked at him in silence.

“Told you you’d pay for those passes. When is it my turn?”

“We’ve got a job to do,” Sam said. Duncan winked at Steph as they both left the room. She sighed and cradled her head in her hands.

Ian snagged Cheyenne on her way through the gate and informed her that The Sound Wave needed to attend the after party. Assuring Ian she’d make it happen, Cheyenne wandered into the greenroom and spotted Fury’s axillary percussionist chatting with a reporter she recognized from a larger weekly magazine that had been around for eons. Cheyenne had an overwhelming sense of foreboding. ‘What the hell is Riff Magazine doing here?” She thought.

“Hey, Cheyenne!” The percussionist called. He was a big teddy bear of a guy. His white smile contrasted with his very black skin. “This is Ted. He’s a journalist too. Have you guys ever met?”

Ted turned to look Cheyenne up and down.

“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure. Ted Brown, Riff Magazine.” He eyed her legs.

“Cheyenne Carson, The Sound Wave.” His surprise amused her as she opened a beer.

“Ah, cute. The Sound Wave sent you all the way across the pond? That’s a long way to fly coach.”

“I didn’t realize Riff was still writing music stories.” Cheyenne enjoyed Ted’s stung expression. Riff had been criticized for losing its edge and selling out. In the past few years, they’d moved further into the movie and TV market to appeal to a younger crowd.

“Never heard of you.”

“I’m touring with Fury. They’re our October cover story.”

“Impressive.”

“They chose us.”

“They have impeccable taste.” His eyes lingered on her cleavage. Irritated, she wandered away in search of Steph, ready break the news to her that their competition was sniffing around. As she wandered further backstage, she spotted Goddess alone amidst crates of equipment. She seemed to be snapping pictures and mumbling to herself. Cheyenne chugged her beer and shook her head. She turned away before she’d have to speak to Goddess. After the argument in the café, she had given up on the intern. As she approached the dressing rooms, she saw the big roadie, Duncan, leaving a dressing room with a younger roadie. Steph walked out a moment later. Cheyenne choked on her beer.

“Three way with your boyfriend, Duncan? Goddess is going to kick your ass,” Cheyenne joked.

“That’s so not funny. I made a connection tonight,” Steph whispered.

“Yeah, I see that,” Cheyenne said suggestively, looking after the young roadie.

“Shut your whore mouth.” Steph smirked at her, and then her face was serious. “His name is Sam. I caught him and a few others having a little cocaine party.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing, they all left once I started taking pictures. We had a pretty interesting conversation about drug usage in the band. He admitted to smoking weed with Nathan and of course the band likes their booze.” Steph shrugged.

“Imagine that.” Cheyenne rolled her eyes.

“He seemed really paranoid and told me if he said too much he might get killed.”

“Paranoia and drug use go hand in hand,” Cheyenne offered.

“I gave him my business card.”

“If he does contact you, take my recorder with you. Head up. Ted Brown’s skulking around.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Over the monitors they heard Phillip thank the crowd and knew the encore was over. “Come on, we’d better get out of here before we get trampled by Fury.” Steph began to walk away.

“More bad news. We can’t skip the after party. Ian said there are going to be some important people there.” Cheyenne grabbed a beer from a nearby cooler.

“I am so tired, I just want sleep! What important people? Not these greenroom jerk-offs?”

“I’m not sure, but it should be interesting.” Cheyenne shrugged.

“I should have brought more film,” Steph said, looking in her camera bag.

“Goddess might have some. I saw her back here earlier talking to herself and taking pictures of inanimate objects.”

“My Dad’s trippin’” Steph whined.

“She’ll have a digital, besides we’re going to keep a close eye on her for a few days. You know, she has been hanging around those roadies a lot. Do you think that’s where she got the coke?” The girls exited the lounge to see several groupies waiting for Fury.

“If I ever get this desperate, please shoot me,” Cheyenne whispered.

“Hi. I’m Pepper, are you here to meet Fury too?” a bubbly blonde girl said approaching them. Cheyenne recognized her from the London show. Duncan had let her backstage.

“No, I’m afraid not.” Steph smirked, “We’re not that lucky.”

Pepper leaned in close to them and whispered, “Good. I was with Nathan in London and tonight I’m hoping to get Scot alone. I don’t need any competition.”

“Great,” Cheyenne finally said. Her face turned red.

“ Have fun.” Steph grabbed Cheyenne by the arm pulling her away.

“Do you think Scot will sleep with her? She was pretty.”

“Stop it,” Steph said.

“What?”

“You’re freaking out, Cheyenne. I need you on your game.” As they headed for the door, Fury burst in blocking their exit. They laughed and high fived each other. .

“Hey ladies, where are you off to?” Scot asked smiling. He was drenched in sweat, literally as if he’d jumped into a swimming pool, fully clothed.

“You better hurry guys you have ladies waiting for you in the lounge,” Cheyenne snapped. Steph turned a sober glance at Cheyenne and yanked her away by the arm. “See ya at the after party. Evidently our attendance is expected,” Steph said.

“Well come on let’s go check out these ladies,” Cheyenne heard Phillip say.

“Hell yeah!” Nathan’s voice chimed in. Cheyenne looked over her shoulder, and saw Scot shake his head and disappear into his dressing room.

After being ditched by Goddess, they’d hailed a cab. Since Stephanie found it impossible to refrain from screaming at the drivers to speak English, this was their third cab ride. When pressed about her foul mood, Steph regaled Cheyenne about her back stage incident with the roadie Duncan. Cheyenne immediately tried to call Ian, but Steph stopped her, claiming she was already on his bad side due to the newspaper pictures with David.

“So where is the after party anyway? “ Steph asked.

“It’s at Le Mix Club. It’s about time we get out of the hotel. I’m in the mood to party…” Cheyenne felt hyper and ready to blow off some steam. “Can you believe Goddess ditched us for those disgusting roadies?”

“Maybe she likes to be degraded and used.” Steph yawned. “You know, I would love to just take a hot bath and go to bed. The rock star lifestyle is definitely not for me.”

“Liven up, Steph,” Cheyenne responded.

“You seem to be having a lot of fun tonight. Are you trying to reenact Leaving Las Vegas?” As she said the words, Cheyenne gulped another drink of her beer.

“You’re hilarious,” Cheyenne murmured factiously.

“Honestly, I would rather photograph people in my studio and have them go the hell away. All this hanging around with ‘the clients’…. “Steph mused. “Maybe I should just go photograph the mountains in Montana. I would do great calendar work, or coffee table books.”

” I can tell you one thing; I am definitely writing a nice email to the L.A. office about Goddess,” Cheyenne grumbled, causing Steph to chuckle. They pulled up to the hotel.

After a quick stop at their hotel for more film and batteries, they approached Le Mix Club. The line for entrance wrapped around the block. Cheyenne and Stephanie approached the door and the bouncers cast them an amused look.

“Stephanie Brier and Cheyenne Carson,” Steph announced, loading her camera. Cheyenne observed the men exchange an unimpressed glance.

The larger of the two pointed to the long line and spoke French. Unable to understand the words, the meaning was clear. Cheyenne glanced at the line and saw many unhappy faces glaring at her.

“Text Ian,” Cheyenne spat at Steph. With a surprised glance, Steph did as she asked. Moments later Ian appeared and exchanged words with the bouncers who immediately granted the entrance.

The club was vast and packed full of sweaty, gyrating dancers. Lazer lights and fog dressed the party scene.

“Do you think the guys are here yet?” Steph hollered over the thumping club beat as they followed Ian through the crowd to the VIP section.

“They’re probably too busy with Pepper and friends,” Cheyenne joked. Suddenly she got a mental picture of Scot with the blonde. Her heart beat faster as jealousy gripped her.

“Stopping by the ladies room—be there in a sec.” Steph disappeared into the crowd.

Cheyenne continued to follow Ian as he wove through the packed dance floor. Twice Cheyenne was grabbed by random men who tried to pull her away to dance. Both times Ian yanked her back and she was relieved when they finally arrived at their destination which was a roped off and guarded by security.

Three men dressed in business suits turned to look at them. Cheyenne recognized one of them as the mysterious man she’d seen leaving Ian’s room when he’d forgotten about their meeting. Seeing him here in the VIP section, she doubted he worked for the hotel. His eyes met hers and a look of recognition crossed his face.

“Hello,” Cheyenne put on a fake smile.

“Where’s Goddess?” Ian asked.

Cheyenne paused.” She’s still at the concert hall.”

Ian leaned in closer.

“I’d like to introduce you to some of my business associates; they wanted to meet all three of you.”

“Alright.” Cheyenne shrugged. “Why?”

“Just to make sure Ian made a good decision when he selected you for our boys ‘coming out’.” The man Cheyenne had recognized interjected.

“Hello. I’m Steve Duran.” The man approached and held his hand out. “I make sure Fury has all their transportation in proper order.”

Cheyenne smiled, though her insides squirmed. Steve had to be in his early thirties, with a medium build. Dark haired and somewhat handsome, something about his demeanor and the way he raked his eyes over her body made Cheyenne’s skin crawl. What troubled her more was that he seemed to make the ‘unflappable’ Ian uncomfortable. She wanted another drink before she lost her buzz.

“Cheyenne Carson.” She offered her hand apprehensively.

“Where are the others?” Steve asked. “I…I …can assure you they are on their way,” Ian stammered. Cheyenne looked at Ian in astonishment. He loosened his tie and dabbed his temple with a napkin.

“Care for a drink Ms. Carson?” Steve asked.

“A martini would be nice.” Steve offered his arm and escorted her to the VIP bar where the two other men were seated.

“Martini,” Steve said to the bartender. He turned to look at her curiously. “Dirty?”

“Two olives,” she added, playing along. Where the hell was Stephanie?

“I must say I didn’t expect such a beautiful woman. “I was expecting more of an old maid/librarian type. Graying hair, glasses.” As he presented her the martini, Cheyenne wanted to say something snide but she decided to nod instead. She sat quietly, sipping on her drink, while the men discussed various subjects from soccer to stocks. Many of the people she’d seen backstage were milling about, as well as various other beautiful people and club kids.

“Ah here she is,” Ian announced as Stephanie entered the VIP lounge. Cheyenne felt so relieved she wanted to kiss her. She felt the tension in her shoulders release.

“Stephanie these are my business associates.” Ian escorted Steph to the bar/ “This is Steve Duran; he’s our transportation expert.”

“Charmed.” Steve kissed her hand. Steph raised her eyebrows and nodded.

“This is Mark Smith, our accountant and last but not least our lawyer, Rodney Campbell.” Mark was thin and tall—definitely the bookworm type. Rodney was older, with gray hair and had sharp beady eyes. Steph and Cheyenne shook hands with all three men.

“They wanted to meet the crew responsible for making Fury a hit in the states,” Cheyenne informed Steph, trying to convey her discomfort while locking eyes with Steph.

“I think Fury will be responsible for making Fury a hit in the states,” Steph remarked.

“The article is coming along quite nicely,” Cheyenne said.

“I hope so,” Rodney replied.” And the photography? Do you have any pictures I can see?” He was looking at Steph with his beady grey eyes.

“As a matter of fact, I do.” She sat her camera bag down and pulled out a folder, handing it to Rodney.

He opened it and began thumbing through the pictures. “These will do.” He closed the folder and slid it back across the bar to Steph. Suddenly Ian’s phone rang.

“Excuse me,” Ian said, walking away to take the call.

“Do you mind if I take some pictures of you three?” Steph asked, readying her camera.

“Yes, we do.” Rodney’s dismissive tone was overt.

“Ah.” Steph shot Cheyenne a sideways glance. She lowered her camera.

“The band will be here in 5 minutes,” Ian announced. Cheyenne wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but Ian seemed as uncomfortable with these men as she was.

“Care for a drink?” Cheyenne asked Steph.

“Sure,” Steph grumbled. “Light beer, surprise me.”

Cheyenne’s insides twisted as she saw Ted Brown, the reporter from the competition, approach. He shook hands with Rodney and they exchanged pleasantries. She elbowed Steph and nodded in Ted’s direction.

“Ah, Ms. Carson. We meet again.” He admired her in his lecherous manner, and then seemed to notice Steph.

“Stephanie. Where’s Kevin?” It was a low blow and Cheyenne was about to retort when Steph beat her to it.

“Probably in rehab, isn’t that where the two of you met?” Ted’s smile faded.

“If you’ll excuse me I’m going to step out for some fresh air.” Cheyenne announced as she stood. “Steph, would you care to join me?”

“I would love too,” Steph said between gritted teeth.

“We’ll be right back,” Cheyenne said to Ian who nodded. Once outside Cheyenne blurted,” Jerk off!’”

“Amen!” Steph sipped her drink.

“Do you know what Steve said? He said ‘I didn’t expect such a beautiful woman’,” Cheyenne said, flicking her Zippo shut. She took a long drag off her cigarette.

“And that frickin’ Rodney, what the hell was that? These will do,” Steph mimicked him in a British accent. “This night just gets better and better.”

The summer air was warm and the stillness welcoming.

“Ladies,” Ian said from behind them, startling them both. They turned to him. “The boys are here.”

“And?” Steph shrugged.

“Listen,” Ian began, shutting the door behind him. “it is very important that my associates see all of you interacting properly.”

“What the hell is going on?” Cheyenne blurted. “I thought we had an exclusive. Why is Ted Brown here?”

“Just trust me and do as I say,” Ian hissed.

“Alright we get it,” Steph replied.” This is some sort of evaluation. It’s a little late in the game for this, isn’t it Ian?”

“Yes. It’s entirely too late for second guesses. Goddess is bleeding all over the hotel, photos of you and David are all over the papers and Cheyenne’s fraternizing with Scot. Is it any wonder that my judgment is in question?” Ian fumed.

Cheyenne’s jaw dropped.

Ian yanked opened the door. Cheyenne and Stephanie reluctantly followed him.

“Just stop drinking and keep it together for an hour,” Steph whispered. “We’ll say we have a lot of work to do and bow out. Ok?”

Cheyenne nodded.

Fury stood at the bar talking to Steve, Rodney and Mark. Ted Brown was still nearby and seemed to be hanging on their every word. Models were flocking around the band like pretty, starving birds.

“Oh God,” Cheyenne sighed, seeing Scot look in her direction.

“Be cool.” Steph grabbed Cheyenne’s arm. They walked to the bar.

“So, Boys, what do you think of our little helpers?” Rodney smirked.

“They’re doing a bang up job,” Scot said.

Phillip chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Yeah.” His sarcasm was obvious. A stunning blonde model flanked him and smiled as if she were in on his private joke.

“You seem to have a different opinion, Mr. Kersey. Do you have something to share?” Rodney asked.

“Now, Phillip,” Ian said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You have to agree. They are doing a fine job and we all know you didn’t want this exposure.”

Phillip laughed as the model perched herself on his lap. Cheyenne noticed his expression change when he glanced at Steph, who was eyeing the model with an amused expression. He swiftly lifted the model away from him and quietly sipped his drink.

“I feel things are going quite well,” Cheyenne chimed in.

“Steph’s photography is amazing,” Nathan said, putting his arm around Steph.

“And also amazing is the front page of the paper today. You’re pretty photogenic yourself, Brier,” Phillip remarked, making Rodney chuckle. Steph blushed, but her face as expressionless as a Vegas poker player.

“OK, OK.” Ian waved his hands in the air. “Let’s move on.”

“I think they are doing a brilliant job. Of course, I wouldn’t know any different since I’ve never been allowed to give interviews...” Bret’s snarky remark was a welcome backhanded compliment. Cheyenne and Steph smiled at him, thankful for the unexpected ally.

“Me too,” David shrugged.

Rodney gave David a long silent glance, sipping his drink.

“Well, I for one am happy to hear that this is working out.” Steve turned to Cheyenne. “Would you care to join me for a smoke?”

Cheyenne glanced at Scot, surrounded by models vying for his attention. Scot was nodding and laughing at something one of them was saying. As he glanced in her direction, she couldn’t read his stoic face. “Sure.” She grabbed her drink and followed him out. Cheyenne reached into her purse and pulled out a cigarette. I’m going to need a liver and lung transplant if I don’t slow down. While closing her purse, she turned on her recorder. She had a gut feeling about this man, and her writers’ instinct took over.

“I’m sorry about the remark I made about your looks earlier. I want you to know I’m not an ass like Rodney,” Steve said smiling.

“OK.” Cheyenne looked around feeling awkward.

“We are all under a lot of pressure at the moment; there’s quite a bit of money riding on this tour so this article is particularly important to us.”

“We’re aware of that,” Cheyenne said. “We’re working hard to make sure that we paint Fury in a positive light.” As his gaze lingered on her cleavage, she felt the overwhelming urge to hurl her drink at him.

“I’m going to go back inside.” Cheyenne moved away.

“So soon?” Steve grabbed her arm with lightning speed.” Cheyenne bristled at his unwelcome touch. Outraged she felt violated. “Ah, don’t be coy. You don’t need the innocent schoolgirl act with me.”

“I have no idea what you mean!” Cheyenne snapped. She regretted going off alone with him and loathed the way he was eyeing her.

“There’s no need for you to play hard to get. You see, we don’t just let anyone into our little circle. No one gets near Fury without us knowing about their past, and that responsibility falls to me. I’m very good at what I do. My goodness, I imagine you were very popular in your past profession.” Steve’s grip on her arm was slightly painful.

Understanding dawned on Cheyenne’s face as she realized he knew about her stripper days.

“You weren’t so frigid with Scot according to my security team,” He added, tracing an admiring finger along her exposed cleavage.

“I need to use the ladies room,” Cheyenne blurted. She trembled violently. Steve let go of her arm and put his hands in the air.

Cheyenne fled straight to the restroom. She opened a stall door just in time to fall to her knees and vomit. The thought of her stripping past coming out was unbearable. Her night with Scot was common knowledge and seeing trouble looming caused her to despair. At that moment she felt like trash. She threw up again and realized that her hands were still trembling uncontrollably. After several minutes she finally regained her composure. Flushing, she stood slowly holding back tears. She couldn’t believe that any legitimate business associates of Fury would behave this way. Remembering the recorder, she quickly shut it off. She took a few more moments to gather her composure and freshen up. Taking a deep breath she headed out into the bar.

As she tried to recall the way to the VIP area, Nathan intercepted her on the dance floor. The women who’d been dancing with him glared at her jealously.

“How about a dance, Cheyenne?” he purred. His silver grey suit accentuated his emerald eyes. Still a bit dazed, Cheyenne nodded. She wanted an excuse to stay away from Ian and his cohorts, and Nathan was a tantalizing distraction.

As he led her onto the dance floor a mix of the old song by INXS, I need you tonight, began to play.

“I love this song.” Nathan pulled her close, the lengths of their body pressed flat against each other. He dipped her skillfully, and as he pulled her up to face him, Cheyenne’s hair tossed wildly around her. His face was millimeters from hers. Her breath caught in a small gasp. His demanding presence frightened her a little and excited her a great deal.

“I love it when you make those naughty little sounds,” He murmured in her ear, his wet lips touching her earlobe. Cheyenne felt a tingling from her ear that quickly shot down to her center. Her nervous energy from her altercation with Steve quickly morphed into a heightened sexual state as Nathan traced her body with his hands and grinded against her. Before she realized it, Cheyenne was physically responding to him. Her muscles seemed to remember the sexy dance moves of her past before her mind could. As she undulated seductively, Nathan’s face lit up enjoying her enthusiasm.

His hands trailed from her lower back to her ass. Cheyenne turned away and his arm snaked around her waist as he grinded on her from behind. Her head fell back and her eyes closed as she felt him against her.

As he spun her around to face him again, her temperature spiked white hot. His hand was in her hair again and he looked as if he would kiss her when Scot appeared to his right. Cheyenne’s eyes flew open wide as Scot tapped Nathan on the shoulder. Nathan glanced over his shoulder nonchalantly.

“What? We’re dancing, go away,” Nathan said, turning back to Cheyenne.

Scot reached out and grabbed Cheyenne’s wrist.

“I’m cutting in,” Scot declared. His tone was non-negotiable.

“Piss off,” Nathan replied, and shoved Scot with both hands.

Scot seemed to be caught unprepared and stumbled, bumping into a couple of patrons. Heads turned and people were watching them raptly. Her heart in her throat, Cheyenne looked around the dance floor and then at Scot, her mouth dry.

Scot’s angry eyes shifted to Cheyenne, then back at Nathan.

He advanced on Nathan and violently shoved him back. Several women caught him before he fell. Instantly, Phillip appeared between them, along with Fury’s security team, and the bouncers. They kept them apart as both men tried to attack each other.

Terror gripped her at the site of their confrontation. Unable to bear witness to the violence, Cheyenne fled toward the exit. She’d nearly escaped, when Bret appeared in front of her.

“Cheyenne?” he managed, his expression concerned.

“I…I can’t,” she cried, not slowing a step as she plowed past him and out into the summer night. She gulped at the fresh air as if she’d been drowning. After a few deep breaths, she stumbled down the street and hailed a cab.

Stephanie began worrying about Cheyenne when Steve returned without her. She sat fidgeting with her camera, her eyes searching the club for any sign of her friend. Nathan and Scot had vanished and she’d had another beer, listening as Bret and David discussed a new song they were working on. Attempting to ignore Rodney’s barrage of snide comments about the American work ethic, she stood to go in search of her missing colleague.

“Cutting out early?” Steve’s sparkling eyes seemed to poke fun at her.

“Well, you know, we Americans only work forty to eighty hours a week. Go Capitalism!” Steph was unimpressed with Ian’s associates.

“I’ll walk you back,” David volunteered, standing. Steph had noticed him dodging groupies and models all night.

“Of course you will,” Rodney chirped. Steve snorted.

“I’m good David. I guess chivalry, though terminally ill, isn’t dead.”

She grabbed her camera bag and left the VIP section to see Nathan and Scot being corralled by Phillip and security.

“Quit being such a baby,” Nathan slurred at Scot. The way he was stumbling, there was little doubt he was intoxicated. Steph looked around and realized they had been trying to fight each other.

“What the hell, Nathan?’ Steph stepped between then.

“He did a bunch of shots on the way here in the limo,” Phillip whispered to her urgently.

“Stephanie, you need to get him away from me.” Scot’s icy look convinced her.

“Hey, let’s go somewhere else and have a drink. Rodney is about to get my foot up his ass.” Steph touched Nathan’s arm. He looked at her and his face softened into a broad smile.

“Yeah, he’s a royal bastard. Let’s go.”

“I’m coming along.” Phillip gestured for a security guard to join them. Nathan shrugged.“Suit yourself.”

As they made their way into the limo, Steph’s mind raced. This entire night had blown up in her face. First the coked out roadies doing God knows what, the mob-like business associates of Ian’s, and now the band members coming to blows. First she needed to defuse the situation with Nathan. Then she needed to hunt down Cheyenne.

“I know where we can go!” Nathan slurred. “Crazy Horse!”

“I don’t know that might be a little too racy,” Phillip replied, his eyes shifting to Steph.

“Let’s just go,” She responded..

They arrived at the burlesque club and were shown immediately to the VIP section. Topless dancers had the crowd spellbound. Nathan was dancing on the tables and having a blast as Steph did her best to keep him from falling and studiously avoided eye contact with Phillip.

“I love this place,” Nathan yelled to the applause of the people at nearby tables.

“I have to find her and talk to her.” Scot stared into his drink as he unloaded to David and Bret. Scot had never been incredibly close to Bret, who was best mates with Phillip. However Bret was happily married, which made him the resident expert on relationships. And David was always a great listener.

With Nathan gone, the bouncers had agreed to let Scot stay as long as he remained in the VIP section. Thankfully, Ian and his associates had been out for a smoke when Scot was ushered back to their roped off section. “What do you think you’re doing?” David replied. Scot stopped in his tracks. It was uncommon for David to say anything, let alone something so confrontational.

“You know, “Scot replied, turning and taking his seat, “I have no fucking clue what I’m doing.”

“Can you tell us what is going on? I guess what I’m asking is, are you lonely? Is there something we’re missing? I mean, she is cracking…” Bret turned a chair around and sat across from Scot.

“I’m drawn to her. I have been since the moment she appeared on my terrace. Her indecisiveness is just driving me mad. And this Nathan facet is like rubbing salt in the wound.” Scot waved the bartender over for another drink.

“You and Nathan have been shitty with one another since we formed this band. That’s nothing new. Back to Cheyenne: Is it the chase? I mean, it’s not as if there aren’t birds getting starkers and falling to their knees before you nightly,” Bret asked, tossing his long hair and taking drags off his cigarette. As if on cue, a woman approached Bret from behind and wrapped her arms around his neck. Barely turning his head, he glared at her.

“Back the fuck off.”

She fled like a scalded cat.

“You know damn well groupies have never been my scene. It would be nice to have a woman look at me, and see me, not ‘Scot Charles, Rock Star’... Cheyenne is the first woman I have had a normal conversation with in 5 years,” He replied, looking from Bret to David.

“Look, Scot. Cheyenne’s a totty. But it’s her decision. I think the ball is in her court. She’s aware of how you feel. She’ll either come to you or not.” Bret looked almost sagely by neon blue light of the bar. Somehow his singsongy Welsh accent made the bitter advice easier to swallow.

“He’s right. I really like Cheyenne and she seems very genuine. However, kicking it off with Nathan for her attention could jeopardize a lot of hard work we’ve all put in over the past few years.” David’s face clouded over. “Not to change the subject, but I have just about had it with Rodney. He is so uncouth and his behavior tonight was unacceptable.”

“I get the feeling Steve said something to upset Cheyenne. What exactly do we need them around for?” Bret agreed.

Scot said nothing, his mind fixed on Cheyenne.

Nathan was good for two more drinks before he passed out on the table. The security guard had gone to arrange for their ride. Alone with Phillip, Steph awkwardly looked around the room. The erotic atmosphere only increased her discomfort. She accidentally made eye contact with a Parisian lounge lizard, who nodded at her with an eager smile and slithered her way. She immediately stood and closed the distance between herself and Phillip. She sat down so close to him that she was nearly on top of his lap His face contorted in surprise.

“This is awfully sudden.” He remarked, both eye brows lifted.

“Just go with it.” She replied with a small nod toward the predator. Phillip glanced at the man, then glared at him and put his arm around Steph.

“Walk on.”

Phillip launched into some stern French. As the man scurried away, Steph was overwhelmed with gratitude. He turned to her, and she hesitantly met his eyes.

“Thanks.”

“Seems you attract a rather dodgy crowd.”

“Well, I’m here with you aren’t I.”

He smiled and raised his bottle to her and they toasted abruptly.

“Why are you always such a shrew?” He seemed to be only half kidding and it didn’t escape her that he’d kept his arm around her. Steph continued to lock her eyes with his as she searched herself for an answer.

“It’s been a hell of a night, and I really don’t want to fight with you. Speaking of fighting, what was that scene with Nate and Scot?”

“They’ve always been rivals. Whenever there’s a row in the band, they’re usually on opposite sides. Throw your colleague into the mix and voila.” Steph frowned at him, confused. He leaned in and Steph was startled as she realized he was coming in for a kiss. She pulled back suddenly.

“What does Cheyenne have to do with this?” His arm stayed firmly planted around her shoulders. His blue eyes glittered with amusement.

“She was out pole dancing with Nathan when Scot went mental. I don’t know why they’re fighting over her…there’s plenty of minge around for everyone.”

Fuming, Steph removed herself from him and grabbed her bag.

“I’ll catch a cab.” She stalked out of the club.

He followed her out into the night.

“What’s your problem?” He walked after her as she tried to hail a cab.

“She’s not just my colleague. She’s my best friend.”

“It doesn’t make what I said any less true.”

“You know, I think I’ll walk.”

“I can’t let you walk back alone at this time of night.”

“Oh yes, you can.”

He shook his head and walked with her, though neither said another word. As she walked, she’d texted Cheyenne. Cheyenne texted back that she’d returned to the hotel. When they reached the lobby, Steph made a beeline toward the elevators without a glance at Phillip. Once inside her room, Steph ditched her shoes and changed into her lounge pants. She had a feeling this wouldn’t be a short talk and she might as well be comfortable.

“Cheyenne what’s going on?” Steph asked once Cheyenne opened the door for her.

Cheyenne pulled out her tape recorder.

“Listen to this.” She pushed play. Her conversation with Steve resonated from the small speakers.

“What the…?” Steph rubbed her face thoughtfully.

“Steph, he grabbed me… hard. Do you really think a ‘transportation coordinator’ is going to behave that way? Something really strange is going on.” Cheyenne lit a cigarette.

“Why was he looking into your past?” Steph muttered to herself.

“And what made him think he could lay his hands on me?” Cheyenne sighed.

“What was Nathan doing to you that made Scot want to fight him?”

“Nathan pushed Scot first. He was just drunk.”

“Phillip said the two of you were ‘pole dancing’.”

“This is all irrelevant. Just because I was a stripper does not mean Steve can touch me or talk to me like that.”

“Maybe he was ‘just drunk’.” Steph met Cheyenne’s eyes.

“You know whatever.” Cheyenne threw up her hands.

“Wow, you’re having a major meltdown.”

Cheyenne’s eyes welled up with tears.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Cheyenne sighed. “I’m going to take a bath. Maybe that will help.”

“Hey guys!” Goddess peeked through her connecting door. “Sorry I didn’t make it to the party.”

Cheyenne nodded without a word.

“I did get a lot of work done. “

“Great.” Steph yawned.

“So good night or should I say good morning, it’s only 4 am.” Goddess laughed. She shut her door. Cheyenne and Steph shook their heads.

“I’m going to choke that girl,” Steph mumbled as she went into her room.

Cheyenne headed straight to the bathroom. Undressing after starting the water in the tub, she poured in a lot of bubble bath. Steph had pissed her off; she was sure Ian’s cohorts were up to no good. As she brushed her hair, her thoughts drifted to Nathan’s forceful touch and she felt herself becoming aroused. She sighed and closed her eyes. Thoughts of Scot’s hands on her face and his soft kisses crowded their way in.

Just as she dipped her foot into the hot water, someone knocked on the door. Standing there with one foot in and one foot out, she debated whether or not to answer it.

“Shit!” Wrapping a robe around herself, she walked to the peephole. Peeking out, she saw a waiter with a dining cart. “Who is it?”

“Room service,” the man said.

“I didn’t order room service. Take it away.”

“It’s a gift from Mr. Charles.” the man replied.

Cheyenne leaned her head against the door then unlocked it. The man rushed in made short work of his duties, then was gone. She picked up the silver lids to see strawberries and other fruit varieties, a bottle of champagne chilling on ice, two glasses and an envelope addressed to her. She fumbled with the envelope, her hands shaking.

Cheyenne,

I have no regrets. What happened between us last night was amazing. Please talk to me and give us a chance.

Scot

Cheyenne sighed aloud, folded the note and threw it on the cart. Returning to the bathroom, she sank into the warm tub of bubbles. She soaked until the water started to cool. She let some of it out and turned on the hot water again, her tired mind reeling from the nights events.

Another knock on the door sounded. Slipping into her robe she peeked through the hole again and this time Scot was standing there. She swore silently then unlocked the door.

“Come in.” She opened the door and turned away immediately.

“Hey. Ah, you got my gift.” Scot threw his suit jacket over a chair. “Listen I just want to say—”

“Scot, please. Just stop...please.”

“Why?” He approached her.

“You know as well as I do that in the grand scheme of things last night meant nothing.”

“Maybe to you, but I feel differently.” He stood just inches from her and she could smell his musky cologne. Scot reached out and caressed her face.” I love looking into your eyes.”

“I really don’t know how else I can say this , but I can’t do this.” She flinched from him.

“Why the hell not?” Scot eyes dripped sincerity. “I have never been so drawn to anyone.”

Cheyenne spun around. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what? Being honest?” Scot appeared astonished.

“Wooing me like this. I may not be a supermodel, but I’m not a joke.”

“I don’t think you’re a joke.”

“How was your one on one time with that groupie?” Cheyenne blurted surprising herself.

“Who?”

“The groupie, did her dream to get you alone come true?”

“Is that what this is all about?” Scot reached for her.

“Just forget it. I’m going to go finish my bath. Enjoy your champagne.” She strode into the bathroom and locked the door behind her.

Scot knocked on the door. “Cheyenne, please.”

“Just go, Scot,” Cheyenne said, her voice breaking. She willed herself not to cry. She was exhausted and noticed the time on her phone. It was 5 o’clock in the morning.

“Ok if that’s what you want but I’m not ready to give up on this. Whatever this is.”

Steph entered the room through her adjoining door. Scot was leaning against the bathroom doors, shaking his head.

“Scot? What’s up?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” Scot shrugged.

Steph glanced around to see the dining cart and the champagne. She heard the bath water running.

“Why is she doing this?” Scot asked.

Steph held a finger up to her mouth. She motioned for him to follow and led him into her room where he sat in the chair near the window and lit a cigarette.

“Has she told you anything?” he asked “Did I do something wrong?”

“Before I say one word, I need to know what your intentions are.”

“I don’t understand.” Scot shook his head.

“Is it just sex?” Steph asked apprehensively. “I don’t want to get into your business, but…” She trailed off. Steph was embarrassed at the awkward turn this conversation was taking, but she was tired and was ready to cut to the chase.

“No! She’s driving me crazy!” Do you want the truth?” He violently crushed out his cigarette in the unused ashtray on her bedside table.

“That would be extremely helpful.” She eyed him expectantly.

Scot shifted a little then uttered a nervous laugh.” I think I’m falling for her.”

Stephanie was taken aback and laughed at him. Scot shook his head.

“Why does everyone find this so hard to believe?”

“Probably because you’ve known each other for about five minutes.”

“Is it so hard to imagine I would be taken with her? She’s amazing.”

“I don’t disagree. Cheyenne rocks and you’d better believe she has guys after her all the time. I have a problem with dating celebrities, that’s my issue. But I’m warning you now—if you hurt her I will have to cut you.”

“Fair enough. Why is she pushing me away? Is she married? Have kids? What!”

“No and no it’s just that.” Steph paused.” Look, if I tell you this you have to promise to never tell her I told you any of it.”

Steph took a deep breath and told Scot about Cheyenne’s past with Steven and her lack of relationships since. Scot gaped at her.

“That explains a lot.” Scot managed to regain his voice.

“She’s been through a lot. She busted her ass to get this job and this assignment is her reward for all her efforts.” Steph looked at him, trying to judge his level of understanding.

“I would never do anything to hurt her,” Scot whispered.

Steph sat across from him and studied his face. “I believe you.”

“So what can I do to change her mind?”

“You’re going to have to give her some time and space. I know you don’t want to hear this right now.” Steph sighed heavily.

Scot looked at his hands. “From the moment we met, I wanted to get to know her. Do you believe in love at first sight?” He looked at Steph again.

“I don’t know what I believe in anymore.” Steph shook her head.

Scot stood. ‘If time and space is what it takes, I’ll do it. Thanks for the chat.”

“No problem. Now get out, I need sleep,” She blurted..

Scot laughed and with a pat on her head, he walked out the door.

“I hope I did the right thing,” Steph whispered as she shut the door after him.

Cheyenne awoke to the sound of her alarm and smacked it hard. It was eleven a.m. Rubbing her sore swollen eyes, she climbed out of bed and crossed to the window. The avenue was bustling with pedestrians. Turning away from the window, her eyes focused on Scot’s jacket. She picked it up and inhaled his masculine scent. Tossing it back onto the chair, she made her way to the bathroom and she discovered her bathwater water still in the tub. Draining it, she looked at herself in the mirror.

“Wow you’re a mess,” she said aloud. After a hot shower, she returned to the dining cart and picked up the fruit plate.

“Are you decent?” Steph peeked in.

“As I’ll ever be.” Cheyenne waved her in.

“Did you order room service?” Steph questioned and lifted the lids. “Well I’m going to complain. The ice melted.”

Cheyenne shrugged.

“Hmm…care to explain?” Steph pointed to Scot’s suit jacket.

“Ok. Ok!” Cheyenne exclaimed, she shoved the note at Steph.

“What’s this?”

“Just read it,” Cheyenne said. She walked back into the bathroom and brushed her hair.

“Wow,” Steph said after reading the note. “That sounds very heartfelt.”

“Don’t,” Cheyenne called to her.

“Look…” Steph began.

“No. I don’t want to hear it,” Cheyenne returned, covering her ears.

“Ok, Ill back off,” Steph conceded, and took a bite out of a strawberry.

“I got most of the pictures edited this morning. I had a wonderful time chatting with Goddess about totally gnarly stuff.” Steph imitation of Goddess was so good it was scary.

“Great. The sooner we’re done the sooner we can leave.”

“You need to enjoy this. You worked your ass off for it.”

“I know. I need a break.”

“I thought about the stuff you said about those assholes and I agree, something was amiss,” Steph said.

“Yeah, I know. I find it troubling that Ian seemed so unnerved.” Cheyenne sat down.

“I agree. That guy is never unnerved.”

“Hmm...” Cheyenne pondered. “This may warrant more snooping. I have Gerald’s spy network doing a background check on Ian already.”

“That explains several bizarre texts he has sent me.”

“Just be careful.”

“I will. You need to watch yourself too, Steph, I really think they’re dangerous.”

“I think you’re overreacting.”

“Steph...”

“Alright, for you I’ll be cautious. Make sure you do the same.”

“I will,” Cheyenne said, “Where’s Goddess?”

“I think she said something about shopping,” Steph replied.

“Goddess shops?” Cheyenne asked, making Steph squeal with delight. “So what is on your agenda for today?”

“You said you needed a break? Well, we are going to the spa, then shopping! I could also use a time out from all this drama and horseshit. It’s our last day in Paris and by God, we will have a day of perfect blissful happiness,” Steph proclaimed regally.

“Right on.”

They spent the afternoon getting facials and tandem massages in the spa. The serene music soothed Cheyenne’s soul, working out kinks much in the same manner as her masseuse, Abriel. Later, as they meandered through the stellar shops at the juncture of Avenue Montaigne and Avenue des Champs-Elysees, Steph got a call.

‘Ciao Bambino!” She digressed in Italian which meant she was speaking to her brother Cedric. Cheyenne knew Steph would be on the phone forever so she proceeded to search through gowns at Chanel. Suddenly she found hers—it was clingy and backless. She pointed to the gown and the salesgirls fell all over themselves to get her into a dressing room with it. The gown fell against her skin like liquid silver. She gazed at herself for a long time before leaving the dressing room to show Steph. When she found her, Steph was kicked back on a sofa and a salesman was pouring her champagne. Sales girls were showing her bags and shoes. Steph did a double take at the site of Cheyenne in the gown. Then she gasped, standing abruptly.

“Mon dieu!’ One of the salesgirls exclaimed. They all stared as if she was an angel who’d materialized before them.

“You tall, skinny bitch,” Steph cooed, and turned to the salesman with complete sincerity. “Don’t you just want to strangle her? I’m taking a picture and sending it to Gerald.”

“How much is it?” Cheyenne asked, dreading the answer to her question. She knew she had to have something for Fury’s party in New York. Now that she’d tried on this dress, nothing else would measure up. The sales girl presented the price tag and Cheyenne converted it quickly in her head. The price was painful, but not unattainable.

“Well, I can always wear shoes and jewelry I already have…and eat ramen noodles for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m buying you this dress. Don’t shake that head, Cheyenne. You can buy the accessories, but there is no way you are wearing anything else in New York. Consider it a belated ‘congrats present’ for landing the story that’s going to put you on the map.” Steph had the credit card out before Cheyenne had a chance to respond. For someone who didn’t speak French, Steph blathered several commands to the shop people who skittered around wildly. In the midst of purchasing Cheyenne’s dress, Steph was managing to buy herself a pair of shoes, a handbag, and a wallet. Catching Cheyenne’s suspicious look, Steph shrugged.

“Of course I can shop in French.”

The retail therapy continued all afternoon; they both bought makeup at the Sephora flagship store, Cheyenne bought a black fringed skirt at Zara, and they both drooled all over the glass at Cartier. As they were walking by the window at Hugo Boss, they spotted Phillip inside trying on suits. Salespeople were clustered around him.

“Oh, look. You two actually have something in common,” Cheyenne joked. Phillip looked up and noticed them; both girls cat called and gestured to him that they approved of the suit. Phillip seemed to blush a bit. With a reluctant looking smirk he pivoted, as if modeling it for them.

“He’s so pretty,” Steph sighed. “Too bad he was dropped on his head as a child.”

After stopping in front of the Virgin Megastore to take obscene pictures with the life-sized Fury poster, they had a snack of macaroons. Steph was soon trying on gowns at Luis Vuitton.

“So Cedric called earlier…” Cheyenne prompted through the dressing room door.

‘Oh,yeah. Sorry, it slipped my mind when I saw you in that dress. He is going to meet us at the hotel in Rome and take us around to see the sites. I am so excited. I haven’t seen him in four years.”

“I’m excited to meet him.” Cheyenne pondered the concept of Steph with a brother as she paid for her purchase. He’d lived abroad the entire time she’d known Steph. Meeting Cedric was sure to be enlightening, especially since he’d chosen such a different path than the family business..

“Ok, I’m coming out. Prepare to behold my awesomeness.”

Cheyenne had been fondling her new handbag, feet up, drinking sparkling water; she was all boozed out. The massage and facial had been blissful and she felt like detoxifying. As Steph appeared in her gown, Cheyenne knew it was ‘the one’.

“Third time’s a charm,” Steph said as she moved into the room. The gown was a shade of aqua marine that matched her eyes and sharply contrasted with her ivory skin. The bodice looked like it had been crafted especially for her. She looked like she should have been on the red carpet.

“Oh yeah,” Cheyenne nodded, snapping a picture with her phone. “That dress is going to make Gerald’s head blow off.”

Soon they were on their way with all their purchases except their gowns. They’d both been measured for alterations and the dresses were being shipped to Chicago.

“One more stop and we’re cabbing it back.”

Cheyenne groaned tiredly.

“Don’t be a puss,” Steph scolded. Paying no attention to where she was being led, Cheyenne trailed behind.

“Here we are,” Steph announced. Cheyenne looked up and smiled broadly. Arc de Triomphe stood before them and its magnificence gave her goose bumps.

“Please guard the bags and give me five minutes.” Steph’s sheepish expression meant there would be an impromptu photo shoot. Cheyenne obliged, using the opportunity to quietly absorb the atmosphere. Her issues seemed suddenly insignificant. She lived in a wonderful apartment with a great roommate and had an interesting job which she loved. There was money in her bank account and her biggest issue was that two hot sex symbols were fighting over her. She took a moment to count her blessings.

“Are you ready?” Steph looked as tired as Cheyenne felt.

They hailed a cab and Cheyenne was overjoyed when the cabbie spoke English.

Back in their rooms, Cheyenne realized she was ravenous. It was six p.m. As she picked up her phone to dial room service, she noticed she had a blinking message light.

“Did you order the food?” Steph returned wearing a designer sweat suit she’d bought earlier. It was mocha colored and had the word “Red” embroidered over her heart. Cheyenne shook her head, still listening to messages.

“Obviously we were missed,” Cheyenne said, placing the receiver in its cradle.

“Do tell.”

“The flight has been delayed until tomorrow evening. You are spending tomorrow morning photographing Scot, Bret, and David at a local studio Ian rented. Goddess is aware and is going along.” Cheyenne relayed.

“Yeehaw,” Steph drawled sardonically as she flopped onto Cheyenne’s bed and picked up the room service menu. “What about Phillip?”

“He apparently refused the photo-shoot,” Cheyenne replied, rolling her eyes.

” Too bad. That Hugo Boss suit! Mmmm. Ya know, I think he was going to kiss me last night.”

“I told you he wanted you. What stopped him?”

“I did. He pissed me off.”

“He’s an ass.”

“I’m going to go pack before I leave so if the shoot runs late I can head to the plane. I’ve never been to Ireland. I’m so excited! My Dad would be so proud,” Steph added, impersonating Adam’s Irish accent with a smile.

“I’ll be interviewing Nathan while you’re at the shoot.”

“I personally think Nathan is gay. Or at least Bi. No straight man is that well-dressed.”

“This is such a soap opera,” Cheyenne complained. Steph snatched the phone from her and ordered room service. As they waited, Steph toyed with her non Fury trip photos and uploaded the dress pictures from their phones.

Focusing on the article, Cheyenne contacted Gerald.

“Love the gowns. Tres elegante. Got any naked pictures for me yet?” Gerald asked, without even greeting her. Cheyenne could hear loud thumping club music in the background.

“Hey. Know anything yet?” She put him on speaker so Steph could hear.

“Ian Corneilius has worked for the record label for twelve years. About a year before the label signed Fury, Ian was banned from two Casinos on the French Riviera and about two months later, his wife of 7 years filed for divorce; it was an expensive one. She has sole custody of his daughter.”

“Well, well,” Cheyenne murmured. “Anything else?”

“Just that a source at the label says that during the first year Mr. Corneilius managed Fury, two band members requested a different manager on two separate occasions.”

“Do we know which band members made the requests?”

“Nope.”

“I need another background check,” She replied. She gave Gerald Steve’s name and what she knew about him. Gerald promised to call her as soon as he had anything.

“And you tell Miss Stephanie Brier that I am not speaking to her. She stopped texting me a day ago and hasn’t called me once,” he said, and hung up without another word.

Steph laughed out loud.

The following morning, Cheyenne threw herself into work again. Her fingers glided over the keys sometimes moving faster than her brain. After an hour and half of typing she hit save, stood, and stretched. At one point she took a break to primp for the day and pack. It was much harder to pack her bags after the shopping excursion, but she finally managed to get everything into her luggage. Once they arrived at the next hotel, she planned to ship some items home.

Later, when Cheyenne was at the keyboard, Steph had popped in to say she was going to scope out the studio. Cheyenne vaguely remembered saying goodbye to her. Her next task was to push the food cart out into the hall. Hurrying back inside, she lit a cigarette, readying herself for being totally alone with Nathan for the first time. At the window once again, Cheyenne drank in the view. She was going to miss Paris, and all its glorious, gorgeous splendor. Sneaking a peak at Scot’s jacket, she realized she’d never think of Paris again without thinking of him..

Cheyenne picked up the jacket and carried it into Steph’s suite and threw it on her bed.

As she reentered her room someone knocked. She walked to the door and peeked out. Nathan stood there, dressed in a steel blue suit that made his roguish green eyes pop. His auburn hair was carefully styled to perfection. Cheyenne unlocked the door and put on a smile. When she opened it, Nathan eyed her yoga pants and tank top.

“Laundry day?” He asked looking her up and down.

“Travel clothes. And you? Prince called, he wants his suit back,” Cheyenne’s sassy retort elicited a laugh.

“Clever girl.”

“Please come in.”

Nathan walked in and looked around the room.

“Still hung over?” Cheyenne asked.

“That was one fun night. You should have come with us to Crazy Horse. I think you would have appreciated its artistic qualities.”

“I’m brokenhearted.” She dripped sarcasm.

“Where do you want me?” He removed his jacket.

“Wherever you’re most comfortable.” Cheyenne grabbed her digital recorder. Nathan walked to the bed, situated the pillows, and lay back on them.

“Figures.”

Nathan’s wicked grin widened as he patted the bed. Cheyenne sat down on the edge, not wanting to face him. “Are you ready?”

“Not quite. I don’t want to talk to your back.”

“This is awkward.”. She pointed to the table and chairs.

Nathan shrugged.

“Ok. Love, we’ll do it your way.” He stood, walked to the bar, and poured a drink. “Care for one?”

“No thanks.” Cheyenne sat down and watched him carefully.

Nathan lit a cigarette then joined her. “Do I make you nervous?” He leaned forward slightly, looking her up and down.

“No. I’m just really tired. I haven’t had much sleep lately.”

Nathan took a drag from his cigarette. “I’m sure all of the late nights have been hard on you.” He smirked.

Cheyenne cleared her throat. “Shall we begin?”

“Sure.” Nathan shrugged.

Cheyenne hit record and began the interview. Cool and collected, Nathan’s voice was hypnotic. As he told it, he was the creative tour de force in Fury. Many of the striking costumes, video images, and both album cover concepts were largely his ideas. He loved to gamble and had won many a wager with his band mates. He admitted that he was a ladies’ man; he had no particular type. As he discussed women, it seemed to Cheyenne that he viewed women as menu items to be made available to him as the mood struck. She held back from that response, changing the subject abruptly to his photography hobby and his stint in art school. Bret had been dating Nathan’s cousin and asked him to photograph the band for a flyer. Fury had never intended to have a keyboardist, but they all hit it off and once Nate had jammed with them, he was in. Cheyenne was surprised to learn that Nate’s cousin Sarah was, in fact, Bret’s wife.

He also adored fashion and often spent hours selecting costumes for the videos. He stated that when he set his mind to something, there was no stopping him. This of course made Cheyenne even more nervous about being alone with him.

After an hour she hit the stop button on the recorder. “I think I’ve got everything I need.” She stood and poured herself a glass of water.

“That makes one of us.” Nathan approached her from behind. As she sensed him grow near, she trembled with desire.

Nathan moved her hair out of the way and kissed her neck gently.

“What are you doing?”

“Doesn’t it felt good?”

“Listen Nathan ...” She turned to face him.

Nathan placed a finger to her lips to silence her. As he moved his hands to her narrow hips, his eyes enticed her.

“That’s not so bad is it?” He slipped his hand up the back of Cheyenne’s shirt. Speechless, she felt her bra strapped released. He brought his mouth down on hers and at first his kiss was a tease; light and slow. Soon it deepened and his skillful tongue tantalized her. She pushed him away, feeling short of breath.

“You have such beautiful features, Cheyenne. I would love to photograph you.” He whispered in her ear making Cheyenne shiver. Nathan ran a finger down her back. “There’s something naughty about you. I just want to play,” Nathan added as he nibbled on her neck. His touch was driving her mad with desire. She didn’t want him to stop, even though her mind was screaming at her. Curiosity overpowered her logic.

Her mind flashed immediately back to Scot and the night they’d shared. He’d been gentle, seemingly as interested in giving pleasure as taking it. Nathan reminded her of a schoolboy whose primary concern was getting his nut off. As he pushed her onto the bed, his body on top of hers, Cheyenne pressed her hands against Nathan’s chest.

“Stop.”

As if on cue, the adjoining door to Goddess’s room opened and she sauntered through the door.

“Hey, Cheyenne. We’re back from the—woah!” Goddess stopped in her tracks and whipped her head away from them averting her eyes.

“Don’t you knock!” Nathan’s face reddened and he was practically panting. Shoving him away, she scrambled to get off of the bed.

“Sorry.” Goddess ran into the doorframe on the way out as she tried to exit with her eyes covered. Once alone again, Nathan turned to Cheyenne.

“I’m sure Goddess will be discreet. This can still be our little secret.”

He advanced on her, however this time she pushed past him and opened the door.

“It’s time for you to go.” Nathan eyed her for a moment then shrugged. He left her alone with her guilt and regret.

“Wait till you see these pictures of Scot! Hey, why isn’t your door locked?” Steph asked as she entered the room. Cheyenne sat at the table, a bottle of jack and a shot glass in front of her. Shrugging, she poured a shot, and downed it.

“What’s up?” Steph had a sinking feeling as she searched her friend’s face. “Was the interview that bad?”

“I made out with Nathan and Goddess walked in on us.”

“Wow.” Steph poured a shot for herself.

“Why can’t I keep myself in check?” She asked quietly.

“I don’t know what to say.” She was a little upset with Cheyenne’s behavior. It was as if Cheyenne was purposely sabotaging everything she had worked for. Causing infighting amongst a band on a casual whim was about the worst career move she could make. She was self-destructing before her eyes, and Steph felt powerless to help. Deciding to try ‘tough love’, she fortified herself. “If you don’t get your shit straightened out you are going to lose this assignment.”

“I know, I’ve got to pack.” Expressionless, Cheyenne scrambled around the suite gathering her last remaining possessions.

Livid, Steph stood and paced the room. If Cheyenne cost herself this job, it could potentially ruin their friendship. Steph would be torn between her father and her friend and she felt it was very unfair for Cheyenne to put getting laid ahead of their cover story.

“See you on the plane.” After Steph fled to her room she packed and called a porter to pick up her bags. She’d decided to go to the airport early, afraid if she stayed a moment longer, she would blow up and say something vicious to Cheyenne. Since she’d confided in Scot about Cheyenne’s past, he had made good on his promise to keep his distance. Now it had backfired with Nathan swooping in like a buzzard. Knowing she’d likely made a bad situation worse, Steph hoped they could finish this assignment before Cheyenne’s little triangle blew up in her face.

On the way to the airport, Goddess informed Steph that her new boyfriend Duncan and another roadie named Richard were riding in the jet with the band. Goddess was ‘totally stoked’ about it. Steph’s stomach churned at the news.

By the time they’d eaten dinner in the airport lounge, Steph was really missing Cheyenne. It had taken the waitress forever to bring the check and by the time they’d paid they had to sprint for the plane.

Steph and Goddess boarded to find the place in chaos. The flight had been delayed on the runway and the natives we getting restless. Magda, Fury’s hairdresser was arguing with Ian at the top of her lungs. She had a very nasal voice and a cockney accent.

Migraine material.

Bret played his acoustic guitar loudly as he and Phillip sang a tune they were in the process of writing. Scot and Nathan continued to snap at each other. They weren’t physically attacking one another and Goddess had not mentioned to her anything about walking in on Nate and Cheyenne, so Steph assumed Cheyenne’s secret was safe for the time being.

“Maybe we should sit toward the middle of the plane.” Steph plugged her ears. Everyone seemed to be chattier than ever. Steph noticed Steve had also joined the flight, sitting next to Ian. She groaned inside, knowing Cheyenne was going to flip out.

Scot approached them.

“Hi’ya. Where’s Cheyenne?” He looked past them.

“She’ll be here.” She continued down the aisle and found Nathan.

“How was the interview?”

“Really good.” Nathan gave her a naughty wink. Steph rolled her eyes and began to walk away. “Look out. Two of those smelly roadies are sitting toward the back.”

“I can handle it,” Steph stated.

He pointed a finger at her. “If you’re not back to sit with me in ten minutes I’m coming to look for you.”

Steph plastered on a fake smile and headed towards the back of the plane. Suddenly a leg went across the aisle blocking her path., The leg belonged to Duncan who was sprawled out next to a extremely unattractive roadie.

“What did I tell you Richard?” he asked, looking her up and down.

Richard smiled to reveal his rotting teeth.

Steph’s stomach churned with disgust.

“She’s shag-worthy alright.” Richard laughed.

“Are you quite finished?” Steph asked.” If you don’t want me to piss on you, I suggest you let me by.”

“Need any help in there?” Duncan climbed to his feet. For a terrifying moment Steph thought he might actually escort her to the restroom.

Suddenly Phillip appeared in the aisle ahead of her.

“Is there a problem here?” He leveled a hard gaze at the roadies.

“Nope,” Duncan said after a long pause. He sat back down.

“I thought not,” Phillip replied, turning and heading to his seat in the back of the plane.

Steph took advantage of this interruption to continue down the aisle.

“Bitch,” Duncan mumbled as she passed.

In the very last row, Phillip was taking his seat while engrossed in his Ipod. Bret sat in front of him, wearing headphones and strumming his guitar in the window seat. As Steph approached, Phillip looked up and his gorgeous eyes stopped her in her tracks.

“I see you made a couple of new friends.”

“Yes, they’re very charming. I would really like to spend some quality time with them,” Steph said sarcastically. Phillip grinned and it seemed she’d caught him off guard with her dry wit.

“That Duncan is a real asshole,” She added.

“Most of them are.” He his eyes had returned to his IPod screen. “But they work cheap and don’t ask for much.”

Steph’s insides boiled. She knew there was no way she could confide in him about Duncan.

“Someday he’s going to go too far and you will have to answer for it,” Steph hissed.

He shrugged.

“I’ve got some classy photos of their backstage activities. I’m sure the public would love to see them”

“Is that a threat?” His eyes shot to hers suddenly.

“Are they the reason your band shuns the press?”

Phillip looked away with a sigh. Bret continued to strum away on his guitar, seeming oblivious to their conversation.

“If they end up hurting someone, Fury’s rep is going to take a hit. If you’re going to own a pet, keep them in your yard.”

Phillip moved so swiftly Steph nearly jump out of her skin. He stood and gripped her arm. His face burned scarlet. “Why don’t you stay out of my business? I didn’t want you here in the first place.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’ve made that perfectly clear.” She yanked her arm away.

“For growing up in the music biz, you sure seem naïve about being on the road.”

Steph laughed heartily and was pleased to see Phillip’s eyes narrow with animosity.

“I’m not some groupie you can impress with your two albums.” Stephanie turned away dismissively and sauntered into the restroom.

She opened the door and as she turned to close it behind her Phillip rushed in, taking her by surprise. He shut the door and locked it.

“Really?” She folded her arms and looked at him, unimpressed.

She attempted to push past him and he stepped in her way.

“You have got to be shitting me. Even you aren’t this much of a Neanderthal.” He threw back his head with a condescending laugh. Steph hauled back to slap him. He caught her hand. Steph tried to free her arm to no avail.

“Smug little bitch.” He brought his lips down hard on hers. She briefly struggled, then found herself kissing him back just as aggressively. As she wrapped her arms around his neck his grip on her loosened and he pushed her back, pinning her against the wall. His hands moved over her body firmly but not roughly. She gasped as he broke off the kiss. Her mind raced. Phillip? She was kissing Phillip of all people! Though unexpected and unbelievable, she had no desire to stop. His mouth moved skillfully to her neck and bit down softly, his lips still wet from hers. Steph wanted to have him on the spot. She moved her hand to his zipper, and was pleased to discover him bulging underneath his dark denim. He grabbed her tighter, his left hand moving up her shirt. She arched her back, eager for him to caress her breasts. The heat between them was intense, fogging over the mirror.

“Hurry up in there,” Nathan said from outside the door. Steph and Phillip froze and pulled apart. Over as quickly as it had begun, Phillip’s face seemed to mirror her expression of shock and awe. Nathan pounded on the door.

“Stephanie, are you in there!” She heard him giggle, and immediately after, she heard Bret laugh softly in the distance. Dreading the razzing that was coming her way, Steph blushed as Phillip rearranged his clothing. His eyes searched her face for a moment but before she could speak, he opened the door. Nathan stood outside with a smile. Steph walked past him without a word.

“Joining the mile high club? Just a little advice, you have to wait ‘til we leave the ground,” Bret murmured and she heard Nathan snicker. Steph quickly found an empty seat and sat down.

“Would you like some company?” Cheyenne asked as she boarded the plane a moment later. Steph shrugged.

“You’re trembling,” Cheyenne pushed. “Are you feeling sick?”

“Yes and no,” Steph replied.

“I’m sorry I keep fucking up.”

“Let’s not talk about this right now.” Steph felt like she might hyperventilate. Not only had she been kissed by the must infuriating client she’d ever photographed, but she’d had her hands all over his body. Thinking about his huge hands made her giddy. Suddenly Cheyenne’s behavior seemed a lot less insane. Conflicted, she wasn’t prepared to forgive Cheyenne, and yet she felt like a hypocrite having spent the last few minutes groping Fury’s front man.

Cheyenne sighed then glanced around and caught Nathan undressing her with his eyes. She looked away as Scot kneeled down next to her.

“We have some free time in the next few days. Since you’ve never been to Ireland, I’d love to show you around, if you’d like.” Cheyenne saw Steph shoot Scot a dirty look and he seemed to ignore her entirely. Cheyenne looked into his beautiful brown eyes that seemed to beckon her. Sensing Steph’s disproving glare, Cheyenne shrugged.

“I’ll be confined to my room for the next couple of days.” Cheyenne’s eyes nervously darted to Ian and saw Steve at his side watching her. Scot glanced in his direction way as well. She felt like she was clinging to a raft in a sea surrounded by sharks “Don’t worry about them. What we do in our free time is none of their concern.” Scot eyes fixed on Cheyenne’s.

“You’re absolutely right, but Steve really makes me nervous,” Cheyenne whispered.

“She looked at Steph, who had turned away from them and cuddled up with her pillow. Scared to blow the assignment and scared her pal wouldn’t forgive her, she looked back to Scot and shook her head.

“So, back to your confinement.” Scot ran a finger over her hand and she shivered. Just then the seatbelt sign came on. “We’ll talk later.”

Watching him retreat, she leaned back in her seat regret consuming her. She closed her eyes.

“Cheyenne?” David quickly took the seat across from her and put on his seatbelt.

“Hey David. What’s up?”

“Just thought you might want to see what was on ‘Stars Nightly’.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a popular celebrity gossip show all over Europe.” David serious expression gave her pause.

“What?’ She sighed, and took his computer.

Footage of Scot and Nathan shoving each other filmed on a cell phone played in the video clip. Horrified, she saw the camera had captured her image.

“Great,” Cheyenne moaned, wondered how things could get any worse.

“Steph.” Cheyenne whispered in her ear, “Wake up.”

“Hmm…?”

“We’re landing.”

“Wait ‘till you see Dublin.” Scot remarked from across the aisle. Ian and Steve continued to watch them. The intensity of Steve’s gaze made her very uneasy. After David’s revelation of the viral video, her apprehension was nearly insurmountable.

The plane landed and Cheyenne and Steph removed their seatbelts. Cheyenne stood and stretched, noticing Scot scanning her body as she did.

“My head is pounding,” Steph mumbled, rubbing her temples. Cheyenne sighed. “Great.”

“What?” Scot asked from behind her.

“Is something wrong?” Ian asked, looking at Steph.

“I think she’s getting a migraine.”

“And? It’s just a headache.”

“Hardly.”

“We need to get to the hotel. Let’s go.” Ian seemed to take her at face value and snapped his fingers. Cheyenne helped Steph stand.

“I’m Ok.” I’ve got it,” Steph said as she walked slowly down the aisle.

“Once off the plane, Scot and Cheyenne were herded into separate limos by security. Cheyenne ended up in a limo with Phillip, Goddess, David, Bret and Ian. Fans rocked the limo and she was beginning to feel sea sick.

“This is like, so cool!” Goddess chomped her gum. She pulled out her camera and began taking pictures. As Ian strategized an escape with the driver, and David and Bret argued over the dance party, Phillip and Cheyenne sat silent. She had never seen him looking so blue. His expression seemed very sad and disappointed.

“Phillip,” Cheyenne said, momentarily distracted from the motion sickness. “Are you ever going to be available for a one on one with Steph?” With surprise, Cheyenne watched him blush and a small mysterious smile tugged at his lips.

“Not in the next couple of days.”

“There’s no sense in putting it off. It has to happen.”

Phillip cleared his throat as police interference allowed the limo to break free from the crowd. David began the dance party. The first number was “Unbelievable” by EMF.

“In all seriousness, the next two days are booked. We have a press conference and a radio appearance tomorrow. The day after that, I’m going to see my grandparents.. It will be an all day trip.” Phillip seamed earnest in his response.

“That would be a great place to get some photos done,” Ian chimed in. “What time are you leaving?”

“No.”

“Oh come on, Stephanie can tag along and take a few pictures,” Ian argued. “Or we could send Goddess with you.”

Phillip glanced at Goddess, who was banging her head to the music, and rolled his eyes.

“Fine. Just make sure the rental car and Stephanie are ready to go when I am,” he grumbled.

“Great.” Cheyenne was relieved. They made their way to the hotel. Thankfully, due to their delayed arrival, few fans awaited them. They all clambered out. Cheyenne made her way to the other limo. Scot got out first, then he and Nathan helped Steph out.

As they approached the entrance, Scot walked to Cheyenne and touched her back.

“I’ve got to make sure Steph gets settled,” Cheyenne said.

“Can I see you later?” Scot asked.

Cheyenne hesitated and her eyes implored him to back off as she entered the lobby of The Clarence. She felt strangely honored to be staying in a hotel owned by two members of rock royalty—Bono and The Edge. The lobby was simple and underscored with stone floors and wood paneling. Cheyenne was disappointed until she wandered past the bar, The Octagon, which got its name from the glass octagon dome above the bar. The art deco floors, welcoming fireplace, and arts and crafts windows appealed to Cheyenne. Though very simple, compared to the other hotels, she felt very comfortable here. She requested her room number from the receptionist and walked to the baggage porter.

“Hello Miss,” the man said in a thick Irish accent. Adam Brier would have sounded positively Midwestern next to this guy.

“Hello,” Cheyenne said smiling. She reached down and read the tags to make sure the bags were hers and Steph’s.” Would you please follow me?”

“Yes Miss,” the man said.

Cheyenne walked away, glancing back at Scot . He thrilled her so much and his lovemaking skills were unbelievable; his continuous attention made her feel like the only woman in the world. When alone with Scot, she felt beautiful and wanted, not only sexually. She did want to sightsee and couldn’t think of a better choice of a tour guide. Knowing this entire experience would be over soon, she decided to go with the flow and enjoy herself.

She turned to him and held up her fingers to show him her room number. He nodded and smiled.

Once at the room, the porter placed Cheyenne and Steph’s luggage inside..

“Have a nice stay.” The porter quickly took the twenty she handed him and left the room. Cheyenne went to Steph’s room. Once inside, Steph crashed out on the bed. Bret, Nathan and David, who had evidently helped Steph with her luggage, stood near the window, smoking and talking.

“That cigarette smoke isn’t helping her migraine. You should go. She just needs to rest,” Cheyenne lectured. She gave Nathan a wide berth.

“Ok,” Bret said.” Let’s go check out the hotel.”

“Thanks guys,” Steph mumbled. The three of them left Steph’s room.

“Steph, do you need anything?” Cheyenne asked sitting next to her on the bed.

“Just sleep. It’s not as bad this time.” Cheyenne pulled the curtains to keep out the sunrise.

“Steph …?”

“Yeah?” Steph groaned.

“You’re going with Phillip to his grandparents the day after tomorrow.” Cheyenne awaited Steph’s response.

Steph sat straight up. “Ow… I can’t.”

“You have to. It’s all arranged.”

“I hate you,” she groaned.

“I’ll text you the time. Just make sure you are awake and alive.”

“No…” Steph growled.

“Get better.”

Cheyenne shut off the light, closed the adjoining door, and locked it. She looked around her room. It was lovely and modern with a king sized bed. Two chairs were nestled around a small table near the dormer window to her small balcony. There was a charming view toward the Dublin Mountains and the color pallet was earthy, with all handmade furnishings. She took the time to hang her clothes in the floor to ceiling wardrobe and decided as she finished that this was indeed her favorite hotel to date. It was beautiful and unassuming.

A quiet tap on her door startled her. When she opened it, Scot stood before her with a huge smile and bottle of Irish whiskey in his hand.

“When in Dublin...” he said, holding up the bottle.

“Did anyone see you?” Cheyenne pulled him into the room.

“Just Bret.” Scot whispered back.

“What did he say?” Cheyenne closed the door.

“Cheers.” Scot shrugged causing her to utter a husky laugh. “So…what made you change your mind?’

“I thought about what you said and you’re right. Our free time is our business, not theirs. I haven’t been here and since you’re such an avid traveler I thought you’d make the best tour guide.

Scot smiled as he pulled out a baseball cap and sunglasses.

“Have your heart set on seeing anything in particular?”

“I haven’t had a lot of time to research Dublin. I guess the writer in me would love to see the Book of Kells. And I’m sure this may be very cliché, but I would love to see Malahide Castle.”

“Fantastic. Do you mind if we have breakfast first? I’m famished!”

With Scot’s subtle disguise in place, they managed to get to the valet without running into anyone associated with Fury, except Magda, the hair dresser. Her disinterest was obvious; she was far too busy making time with the concierge.

Scot had managed to arrange for a rental car. It was a tiny car and, watching him fold his lanky body into it, Cheyenne burst into fits of laughter.

“What?” Scot cocked an eyebrow.

“Nothing…”Cheyenne tried and failed to wipe the smirk from her face.

Initially as they sped off, Cheyenne was unnerved by being in what she considered to be the driver’s seat without a steering wheel. Soon she relaxed; Scot was a far more cautious driver than Stephanie. Shortly, they arrived at their breakfast destination, Bewley’s Grafton Street Café.

“This place is my favorite. I could sit here all day with a book, if they’d let me.” Scot took her by the hand and led her in. A hostess seated them in a charming, well lit room with warm wood floors. Their table was near a large window and as the sunlight streamed down on them, Cheyenne couldn’t believe how handsome Scot looked in a simple baseball cap.

Scot ordered various items for Cheyenne to try.

“I’m game for everything but tea.”

Scott mocked an incredulous look.

“Hey, what can I say? We Americans like the bean, not the leaf.”

“Fine, have it your way.” He smiled at her fondly.

“Scot, you need to see what David showed me on the plane.” She pulled the video up on her phone. After watching it, Scot shrugged.

“It’ll blow over in a day.” Cheyenne wasn’t sure she agreed. She was about to tell him as much, when his cell phone rang and he looked at it.

“Excuse me Cheyenne, I have to take this.”

She nodded and took a sip of the rich coffee the waitress presented her. She was delighted that the cream had been poured in the shape of a heart.

“Hello, Hannah. How’s my girl?” His face lit up like a Christmas tree as he spoke. Instantly on high alert, Cheyenne stopped mid sip. Jealousy surfaced in her abruptly and she spilled a small amount of coffee on the table. Grabbing her napkin, she began to sop it up with a trembling hand.

He repeatedly nodded and with a surprised expression, Scot howled with laughter.

“Hannah, put your sister on the phone before she has a nervous breakdown. Molly…Molly! Yes, it’s Uncle Scoty. You cannot pull your sisters hair, ever. Understand?”

Cheyenne felt a wave of relief and looked at Scot as if she’d never seen him before. Exuding affection and adoration as he spoke to his nieces, she found him more attractive than ever.

Their food came in no time and Cheyenne began to sample the breakfast.

“I’m in Ireland and I’m having breakfast with a dear friend.” He gave Cheyenne a conspiratorial wink. “Yes, she’s a girl… Cheyenne…maybe. Molly, I have to eat or I am going to waste away. I love you too and I will see you at the end of the month. Listen to Hannah. Because I said so.”

He hung up the phone grinning.

“Those two are wild animals. What do you think? Isn’t it tasty?”

Devouring their breakfast, Scot took Cheyenne to Trinity College Library which housed the Book of Kells. No one seemed to recognize Scot, the crowd was largely academic. Afterward, they discussed the book’s history as they drove north up the coast to the castle.

“Wow!” Cheyenne gaped as the castle first came into view. Historic buildings like this were commonplace in Europe and remembering who she was with, she felt like a rube. “I’m sure it seems silly to you, but it gives me chills.”

“It’s not silly. This place is epic.” Intrigued, they parked and hurried in.

“I think your instincts are well-honed. This place supposedly has five ghosts,” Scot commented as he thumbed through the pamphlet. As they wandered the stunning castle, an audio tour played over loud speakers giving them the history. Scot’s favorite room was the library. Cheyenne fell in love with the Victorian Glass House, a giant greenhouse built for plants that wouldn’t grow locally due to the acrid soil.

Later, as they made their way back to Dublin, Scot asked if Cheyenne was interested in having lunch and a tour at the Guinness Storehouse. The tour wasn’t long, but she noticed a few suspicious glances in Scot’s direction. There were a lot more hipsters and backpackers sightseeing at Guinness. This age group was Fury’s fan base, and she wondered how long Scot could remain incognito.

As they took a seat in the bistro, Cheyenne sensed more and more eyes on them. Scot seemed oblivious, his focus only on her. Her phone vibrated and she looked at the screen to see it was Gerald.

“My turn.” She cocked her head apologetically at Scot and answered.

“Hey. Batting zero on this Steve Duran of yours. I am not sure who he works for, but it’s not the record label.”

“Thanks for trying.”

“I’ll keep at it. Oh, and Goddess?”

“Yeah?”

“No one in the L.A. office has heard of her.” Cheyenne dropped the fry she was holding. She sat straight up. Scot stopped cutting his steak, throwing her a concerned look.

“Are you certain?”

“I checked into this myself, Cheyenne. Who the hell have you guys been running around Europe with?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. I’ll call you soon.”

“You’d better.”

As she hung up the phone, Cheyenne realized she’d lost her appetite.

“Bad news?” Cheyenne dismissed his concern with a wave of her hand.

“Scot, can I ask you something off the record.”

“Cheyenne—you’ve seen me naked…twice.”

Cheyenne felt herself blush.

“Who wanted a different manager? Was it you?’

She could tell from his expression he had not expected this question.

“Off the record... yes. I didn’t trust Ian. Bret went to the label about 6 months after I did…and he also wanted him replaced.”

“Why?’

“I felt the publicity blackout was a bad idea. I thought it would cost us fans. Somehow he got everyone else on board.”

“And Bret?’

“Bret and Nathan went to a casino with Ian when we were touring Portugal. They literally had to drag him out. Bret said he saw another side of Ian and felt we’d be better off with someone else.”

“How long has Steve Duran been coordinating your tours?”

“Since Ian came on board. Why?’

‘Just curious. I think we need to get our food to go.” Cheyenne nodded to a group of college aged kids who were gaping at them.

“Check please.”

Sneaking back into The Clarence was even simpler than sneaking out. It had taken them 45 minutes to escape the autograph seekers. Cheyenne and Scot returned to her room since it was further from Ian’s.

“Beer?’ Scot asked holding up a pint they’d just bought.

“I have a better idea,” Cheyenne replied. “Come here and sit down Scot.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

All day they’d remained platonic, only occasionally holding hands. She’d wanted to see how they connected outside the bedroom. She’d found him disturbingly compatible. Cheyenne was going home soon, and she wasn’t going home hungry. She turned on her computer and started some soft music. She pushed him into the chair and knelt in front of him.

“I like this so far…”

“I want you to kiss me again.”

“Are you certain, Cheyenne?”

“Yes.”

He leaned forward in the chair, his dark eyes searching hers. Her lips parted slightly in anticipation and he stopped an inch from her lips.

“Ask me again.” The command surprised her.

“Scot. Please kiss me.” Cheyenne didn’t have to ask a third time. Scot hands were in her long hair and he pulled her close. Her hands fumbled with his belt. He tried to move, but she pushed him back into the chair and waved a finger at him.

“Sit right there.” It was her turn to command him.

The arch of his eyebrow and twitch of his lip told her he didn’t mind. Cheyenne was determined she’d wouldn’t let Scot Charles forget her. She began to strip for him as he sat in the chair. Taking her time, she waited till she was down to her thong to approach him again. He reached out to touch her and she stopped moving.

“No touching.” Cheyenne remembered that stripping had occasionally made her feel powerful as opposed to powerless. Seeing she had Scot’s undivided attention gave her a high.

“Stand up.”

Scot did as she asked and his submission aroused her more. Cheyenne took her time undressing him. Watching his skin flush with sexual tension delighted her. Each time he reached for her she stopped him and fixed him with a disapproving glance. Once she had him naked, she ran her hand down his chest and coyly stopped just below his naval.

“I want you on the bed.” Her voice was forceful.

“As you wish,” Scot said.

He placed himself in the center of the bed and propped himself up on one elbow. She had his rapt attention as she removed her thong. She joined him on the bed and pushed him onto his back. Straddling him, he looked up at her admiringly, his hands hovering near her bare breasts.

“Can I touch you now?” His dark eyes pleaded, and his breathing was shallow.

“Do you want to?”

“You’re so naughty.” His hands were on her instantly. Scot’s eager touch sent her reeling. She looked into his eyes and recognized how perfect of a companion he was for her. As the day had progressed, it had become increasingly clear to Cheyenne that Scot Charles was everything she had wished for in a soul mate. Intelligent, curious, kind, sexy, and loving; Scot had all of these qualities.

He swiftly rolled her over onto her back and kissed her gently.

“You are so beautiful.”

She reached out and stroked his cheek.

“As are you.” The intensity of the moment made her voice shake. Scot eyes seemed to search her face. Cheyenne’s heart felt like it was in her throat. A war raged within her, with desire and confusion on the opposing sides.

Steph rolled over and groaned.

“Are you alright?” a man’s voice asked her.

“Yeah…” Steph purred, still half asleep. She felt someone beside her on the bed. Warm hands stroked her hair and massaged her head and face gently. Steph moaned. To her own ears it sounded sexual. Opening her eyes slowly she saw Phillip propped up on one elbow beside her, his hand stroking her cheek. Frozen in place, she was completely awake and focused.

“Phillip? How did you get into my room?”

He sat up on the side of the bed and handed her a glass of water. His hand touched hers and they made eye contact. Neither of them seemed to be able to look away.

“I don’t know how you can sleep next door to the porn stars.” Steph heard the noises from Cheyenne’s room and glanced at him, blushing from head to toe.

“It’s amazing what narcotics can do for a girl.” She sat up and sipping the water she wondered who Cheyenne was in bed with this time.

“How are you feeling?”

“Not too bad, actually.” Steph pulled the blankets up to her neck. “Why you are here?”

“I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” His voice was soft and he sounded genuinely concerned.

“Since when do you care?” She regretted the question immediately and stood, discovering her knees were weak. Willing herself not to fall, she tried to decide how to handle him. Phillip was at her side instantly, steadying her.

“I didn’t realize it was a crime. Listen, about what happened on the plane…”

“Yeah, that was crazy. Don’t worry about it, no big deal.” Steph looked away from him.

“It was kind of a big deal…”

“So you’re here to finish what we started. I should have known...”

Phillip’s face contorted in anger.

“Maybe you don’t know as much as you think you do, Stephanie.”

Steph felt her pulse quicken. He’d never spoken her name before and the way he said it was something beyond sexual.

“Look, I didn’t come here to fight with you,” he continued, as he helped her sit on the edge of the bed. He seemed to be fighting to curb his temper.

“If that’s the case you should probably go.” As she spoke the words, she realized she was digging herself deeper.

Why can’t I just shut up? She opened her mouth to take it back.

“Oh, For God’s Sake.” Phillip looked exasperated. “I so look forward to our road trip. It’s sure to be great fun.” He stormed out the door and slammed it with such force a picture fell off the wall and shattered.

In Cheyenne’s room, the sound of breaking glass interrupted their revelry. Cheyenne vaulted off of the bed, threw on a robe, and ran to Steph’s door.

“What the hell is going on?” Cheyenne exclaimed. She saw Steph, then the broken shards of glass on the floor. Scot bolted in soon after, in only his boxers. Stephanie’s eyes shifted from Cheyenne to Scot.

“You’re asking me what the hell is going on?”

Cheyenne gaped at her.

“Don’t worry about it,” Steph said, lying back down.

“Steph! What happened?”

“Just go.”

Cheyenne hated the disapproving look on Steph’s face, which had the same effect on her as a cold shower. She and Scot exited Steph’s room and Cheyenne pulled the door shut.

“What happened?” Scot asked.

“It’s nothing. Where were we?” Cheyenne purred as she tried to shrug off the interruption.

“We were over here.” He pounced back onto her bed. Cheyenne wanted to go to him, but Steph was furious at her and it had soured her mood. Doubt tugged at her.

“Are you worried about Stephanie knowing?” Scot looked at her, and the way he could read her face was disturbing.

“I’m leaving soon and it makes me a little sad. Maybe we should have quit while we were ahead.” Cheyenne sighed.

“But I’ll be in the US soon and we can make arrangements to see each other,” he started, but she held her hand up to stop him.

“Let’s be real. The odds of that happening are highly unlikely.”

“You sound so sure about that.”

“Doesn’t a long distance relationship across the Atlantic seem… impractical? Can’t we just enjoy what time we have left together?” Cheyenne knew Scot deserved better. If she thought about this fact too long, she’d knew she’d push him away. She wanted to revel in the moment before they went their separate ways.

Scot looked pensive. He was silent for several moments.

“It’s just not enough. Perhaps I’m being selfish, but I want more.”

It was Cheyenne’s turn to fall silent. Faced with the reality of his proposition, she had a heartbreaking revelation. Though Scot was her perfect partner, she was wildly inappropriate for him.

“Scot. I am not worth all that effort. You deserve more.”

“I deserve you,” Scot huffed.

“I live on the other side of the planet. I’m a nobody from the middle of nowhere.”

‘How can you say such things about yourself?”

“I need you to take my word for this Scot. If you really knew who I was, you wouldn’t want to be with me.”

“What happened to you was not your fault Cheyenne. You were a victim. And I would never harm you. “

Her face fell. Shock gripped her, followed swiftly by anger.

“What wasn’t my fault?”

“The abusive relationship.” He paled visibly, and hesitated as he said the words. “I don’t care about your past.”

“Who the hell have you been talking to? She glared at him and watched his face crumble in regret. “It was Steph, wasn’t it? I can’t believe her.”

“Don’t get mad at her about this.” Scot tried to reach out to her.

“Unbelievable. I’m so pissed right now.” Cheyenne moved away from him. “Just go, Scot.”

Scot intercepted her and grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to face him.

“Do you really mean that? Because you’re sending me mixed signals and it’s really confusing. One minute you’re angry with me and tell me to go and the next you’re all over me, wanting to shag. What the hell am I supposed to think?”

“That I’m crazy, I suppose. Did Steph also tell you I was in bed with Nathan yesterday?” she blurted, and the wave of remorse that engulfed her was instant and insurmountable.

Scot cringed as if she’d slapped him and l released her. He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts then gathered up his clothes. As she watched him dress, Cheyenne could barely breathe past the lump in her throat. Though the way he wilted away from her stung, he deserved to know the truth about what kind of woman he’d been wasting his time with.

“Is that the kind of man you’re looking for? Do you want to be treated like shite all your life?”

“I’m not looking for anyone. I’ve been clear about that from the beginning.”

“That’s true. You don’t want me or need me, I’m fully aware of that. But use caution with Nathan, Cheyenne. You don’t need his mind games.”

“He walked to her door, paused for a moment then continued out. Tears of anger, shame, and humiliation started to flow down her cheeks.

Scot pounded on the door of Nathan’s suite. Nathan opened it and Scot pushed past him into the room.

“Is it true?” Scot’s was deadly quiet and he knew he was on the edge.

“Is what true?” Nathan seemed mildly amused. The urge to slap the smug look off his face was tempting..

“Did you sleep with Cheyenne?” Scot paced back and forth.

“How is that any of your business?” Nathan shrugged. Scot’s thin veneer of civility cracked and he grabbed Nathan by the collar and punched him.

“Ow!” Nathan looked stunned, holding his right eye. Scot shook his right hand, shocked at how much it throbbed. He’d never hit anyone, and the reality was as shameful as it was painful.

“Stay away from her you bastard!”

“OK, Holy Shit, calm down! You’re off your trolley.” Nathan moved away, seemingly trying put distance between himself and Scot. Wanting to make sure he’d made his point unmistakably clear, he swiftly closed the distance between them and glared into Nathan’s good eye.

“There are consequences to your actions, Nathan. I know we’ve never been mates, but I didn’t realize we were enemies!”

“It was just a game!” Nathan shouted back.

“A game?”

“You need to calm down. I bet Phillip I could bonk Cheyenne, and he won. We just snogged. I didn’t bed her.”

Scot grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him up against the wall. The mere thought of Nathan looking at Cheyenne enraged him.

“I can’t breathe.”

“Stay away from her do you understand me? You’ve no idea what impact your ridiculous pissing around could have on her,” Scot spat.

“OK.”

Scot released Nathan who slid down the wall, gasping for air. Scot bolted from the room and tore down the hall toward Phillip’s suite. As he passed David he barreled into him, almost knocking him down.

“Get out of my way!” Scot raged, without missing a step.

Beating on Phillip’s door, his anger flared again and when Phillip answered, Scot was instantly in his mug.

“Let’s hear about this wager with Nathan.”

“Scot. Just hear me out…” Phillip began with what sounded like a regretful sigh. “It was just one of Nate’s cock ups. We’d made the wager before I realized you were serious about her.”

Scot approached him and grabbed a hold of Phillips lapels, pulling him close and staring coldly in his eyes. Phillip looked astonished.

“I expect this shite from Nathan, but I believed we were mates. You’ll be happy to know you won the wager. Don’t spend it all in one place,” Scot spat. He released Phillip and stormed from the room.

The following day, the band was overscheduled with tour obligations. Cheyenne stayed confined to her room and worked furiously to keep her mind occupied. She did not see Steph all morning, but heard her leave sometime around noon.

Gerald called and informed Cheyenne that the two people looking into Steve Duran had been pulled into Adam’s office. They’d both immediately been sent away on an assignment. Cheyenne was baffled, and found it incredibly convenient. Knowing that this could not be a coincidence, she’d called Adam.

“Why are you interfering with my fact checking? This is a cover story. Shouldn’t you be offering me support?”

“I have no idea what you mean. With you gone, I have to use my other writers,” he replied.

“Care to tell me why no one in L.A. knows Goddess?”

“Cheyenne, this is one that you need to let go. I’m asking you to trust me. I’ll explain it soon. Does Stephanie know?”

“I haven’t had a chance to tell her.”

“Don’t.”

“Alright,” Cheyenne agreed after a long pause. She couldn’t comprehend Adam’s motives and wasn’t even able to speculate about what was going on at her workplace.

Cursing the fact that she didn’t have the time or the resources to do the research herself, she threw her pillow across the room and put her hands on her hips. She had way too much one her plate. Adam’s request stressed her out and disturbed her. How could she not tell Steph about Goddess?

“It’s time we talked,” Steph said from behind her and Cheyenne spun around ready for a fight.

“Yeah,” she snapped. “I agree.”

Steph looked furious, but Cheyenne struggled to keep her emotions in check.

“Care to explain why Nathan has a black eye? Scot just had an injection from the ‘Rock Doc’ in his right hand so he can play bass on TV!” Cheyenne gaped at Steph, beaten before she’d had a chance to start.

“After I left your room I told Scot to get out and I told him about Nathan.”

“Why the hell did you tell him that?” Steph crossed her arms and appraised her.

“Scot proceeded to tell me about the conversation the two of you shared about my past.”

Steph sighed. “Look…”

“No, you look. Stay out of my business.”

“He came to me and wanted answers.”

“And you were happy to oblige, weren’t you? I told you all of that stuff in confidence.”

“If you’re waiting for an apology, you are going to be waiting a long time. You can be a real pain in the ass sometimes.” Steph walked toward the door.

“I know.”

Steph spun to look at her. “He’s falling in love with you, you idiot!”

“We've only known each other for a short time!” When Cheyenne heard her own voice crack with emotion, sorrow overcame her.

For a minute Steph eyed her; she seemed puzzled. Uncomfortable, Cheyenne grabbed her cigarettes.

“I don’t understand you.” Steph shook her head.

Though Cheyenne still fumed, a glimmer of hope slipped past her defenses. Could he really believe her loved her? Even so, what would it bring? He lived in another hemisphere. Her hours were busy and his were insane. It was preposterous to even consider an attempt at being together. Why was she even considering the logistics?

“I have to go.” Steph grabbed her camera bag from the chair.

Cheyenne said nothing as she watched her go.

For the rest of the day, Cheyenne tried to throw herself into work, but concentration was impossible. Having no intention of leaving the safety of her room, she ordered in room service and went to bed early. She tossed and turned all night, barely sleeping a wink. She puzzled over Adam and Goddess and, without Steph’s input, she just couldn’t come up with any logical reason for Adam’s behavior. Not wanting to think about Scot or Nathan, she finally took a sleeping pill out of desperation.

The next morning, rain was pouring down in sheets. Cheyenne sat alone in her room, drinking a cup of coffee and smoking a cigarette. She couldn’t get the image of Scot’s hurt expression out of her mind. Why did she push him away? She seriously thought she needed some psychiatric help. Her life had been like a ride on a roller coaster but she was tired of riding it alone. Every time a man had tried to get close to her she put up a wall. Dumbfounded, she realized she was still allowing Steve, and men like him, to control her all these years later. She’d had enough and needed help breaking the cycle.

She sat down on her bed. Just then her cell phone rang. She picked it up. When she saw it was Ian, she sighed.

“Hello,” Cheyenne answered as cheerfully as possible.

“Cheyenne we need to talk. Could you meet me in The Tea Room this afternoon at 4:00?” Ian sounded stern and resigned.

Cheyenne felt paralyzed.

“Yes. What’s this about?”

“We’ll talk then.” Ian hung up.

Cheyenne closed her eyes. What a great way to begin a day! She decided to work for a while longer. She was so engrossed that she lost track of time; when she looked up it was already time to get ready to meet Ian. She hurried around, got dressed and put some makeup on. When she opened her door to leave, Goddess was standing there, her hand raised to knock.

“What?’ Cheyenne asked. She was tempted to tie the amazon to a chair and make her talk.

“Just saying ‘hey’. Want to go for coffee?”

“I have to meet with Ian.”

“OK.”

Goddess looked like she was about to add something, then closed her mouth and walked away.

Cheyenne entered The Tea Room and spotted Ian seated with the so called ‘business associates’. Seeing the three additional men, she wanted to turn and leave. Ian waved her over, his lips pursed in a stern line.

“Hello,” Cheyenne greeted them.

“Please sit. It’s time we had a talk with you,” Ian stated sternly. Cheyenne did as he asked. The four men stared at her. Ian leaned over to her and spoke in a hushed tone.

“I am very disappointed in you, as are my business associates. You are becoming to be a big distraction to Scot and…” he trailed off, fidgeting. “I know why Scot gave Nathan a black eye.”

Cheyenne’s mouth was dry as she quickly attempted to gather herself.

“I ended it with Scot.” Cheyenne looked Ian in the eye and raised her chin confidently. “I am very sorry that I caused a fight.”

“Too little too late, sweetheart,” Rodney scoffed, throwing his napkin on the table.

“You’re a distraction and the discord your presence is causing outweighs the benefit of you being here. I really think you should consider leaving after the concert in Rome.”

Cheyenne looked at Ian; he looked as uncomfortable as she’d ever seen him.

She tried to appear dignified.

“I have cancelled your travel arrangements for Venice, Athens, and Madrid.” Steve’s eyes watched her reaction to his words like a predator watches its prey.

Defeated, Cheyenne hung her head.

“In the meantime, I’m going to ask you to remain in your room and away from Scot,” Ian stated.

“Who do you have left to interview?”

“Bret and Phillip. I'm going to interview Bret while in Rome and then I guess I'll have to interview Phillip on the plane.”

“Wonderful. It should simplify matters that you’ve managed to work ahead,” Ian said. Cheyenne glanced around the table. She felt as if she was on trial.

“Yes. Impressive multitasking skills,” Rodney chimed in.

“Are we finished?”

Ian cleared his throat. “Yes.”

Cheyenne stood and exited holding her head high. She refused to slink away in shame. As she went outside for a smoke, she made up her mind that not only would her article be a huge success, but that she would get to the bottom of what Fury’s manager was really up to.

“Nice ride.” Steph traced her fingers along the dash of the high end sports car Phillip was driving. “Why didn’t we take a limo?” She turned on the heated seat.

“Because it would be obnoxious to arrive at my Grandparents home in a limo.” It was the first time he’d spoken since she’d climbed into the car. Being alone with the little imp had him on edge. Today she wore her hair up and the sight of her exposed neck and adorable ears was making him mental.

“Oh, Good. I was afraid you’d lost your voice.”

Her retort almost made him smirk.

They had left the city on time and cruised along at a fairly brisk pace. Phillip tried to enjoy the scenic, pristine countryside which looked even greener against the grey sky as the rain continued.

“This weather kinda sucks.” When he didn’t respond or acknowledge her, she sighed aloud.

Phillip turned on the radio, his eyes never leaving the road; to his horror, they were playing a Fury song. Steph chortled and Phillip turned white. It was a song he had spent a lot of time writing and he was particularly proud of it. He could feel her looking at him suddenly and she stopped laughing on the spot.

Changing the station, Phillip brooded. It seemed fate was playing a cruel joke at his expense. He had a schoolboy crush on this obnoxious child who was obviously after David. Feeling ridiculous and hyper vulnerable to her every comment and criticism, he could not believe he’d agreed to bring her along. Normally confident, and rarely without female companionship, Phillip was riddled with self-doubt. After snogging on the plane, he was sure he’d broken the ice and was stunned when she’d turned him out at the hotel. Currently, she seemed completely unconcerned that they were alone, which was driving him bonkers.

Steph snapped some pictures of the scenery seemingly oblivious to him. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” she asked.

Her gaze made him look her in the eye. He noticed again that they were sea blue with a lovely green and yellow center. These beautiful eyes fixed on him with annoyance and her full lips seemed to pout slightly. Remembering how her lips tasted, he forced his eyes back on the road.

“Nope,” he replied.

Steph sat back and folded her arms. They were silent for the remaining miles. When the house came into sight Steph gasped, leaning forward in her seat.

“Oh my gosh, is that it?”

“Yes,” Phillip replied. He’d spent many a summer and holiday at his grandparents’ home, which was about an hour southwest of Dublin. Growing up, Phillip hadn’t thought much about the home, though he always considered it ‘big’. The estate had been photographed many times for calendars and books about Ireland; people considered it very impressive, he was told. The cream colored monolith was stark and stately against the emerald grounds. Vast gardens circumvented the main house. It had a dowager’s cottage across the garden that was flanked with stables. He pulled the car into the semi-circular driveway and parked. He glanced at Steph as they climbed out of the car.

“It looks like something from a fairy tale,” Steph gushed, and her expression seemed positively giddy.

“It’s so old!” She enthusiastically snapped pictures. Before he could reply, Phillips grandparents burst out the door, their arms opened to greet him. He bounded up the stone stairs, rushing to spare them the trip down. As they hugged him, Steph snapped a shot of the reunion.

“Who’s this Bonnie Lass, Lippy?” his grandmother asked, her mischievous eyes looking at Steph.

“This is Stephanie Brier, Nanna; she’s a photographer promoting the North American tour,” Phillip explained. He turned to Steph and saw she was smiling brightly at him, which he knew wasn’t necessarily a good thing. He pleaded silently that she would be kind to them. “Stephanie, these are my grandparents, Sophia and Paul.”

“Oh my, how lovely you are. Isn’t she lovely Paul?”

“She’s an angel.”

Phillip watched in horror as his Nanna took Steph’s hands.

“It’s about time Lippy brought home a beauty such as you.”

“Oh, Ma’am, Phillip and I aren’t…” Steph giggled and blushed.

“Now I’ll not have you calling me ma’am, Nanna will do just fine.”

“Sophia, don’t embarrass the children,” his granddad said, as he offered his arm to Steph and escorted her into the house. “Please feel free to call me Granddad and please excuse my wife. Lippy is our only grandson and the eldest grandchild. She’s been waiting for a great grandchild for what she thinks is far too long.”

“Lippy?” Steph questioned as she shot Phillip an innocent look. Arm in arm with Nanna, Phillip knew he couldn’t escape from her as he had so many other times during the tour.

“That’s our little pet name for Phillip. He was a very lippy child.” Nanna laughed merrily, pinching Phillip’s cheek.

“I can’t imagine,” Steph said sardonically, sparing a glance at Phillip. He couldn’t help but smile at her and shake his head.

“We have lunch on, but we have plenty of time for a tour,” Nanna announced. She was shorter than Stephanie, and her bright sharp eyes had always belayed her years. Phillip was pleased that she still seemed vigorously healthy.

“Well Nanna…we really should get these photos out of the way so that we can visit,” Phillip started. Against all logic, he looked to Steph, eyes pleading for support.

“Don’t be silly, Lippy, we have plenty of time for a tour. Besides, it will help me decide where to shoot you,” Steph objected with a playful smirk. They toured the beautiful estate, the gardens, and even the dowager’s cottage. Soon his Nanna and Granddad beat a hasty retreat, on some trumped up excuse about overseeing meal preparations. They began to take photos in the various locations Stephanie selected, finally returning to the main house.

“Why don’t you stand at the balcony and look out over the grounds,” Steph suggested. Phillip obeyed and she moved very close to him. She snapped a picture of him as he stared pensively out at the grounds. Having her so close to him was beginning to cause him physical distress. Steph stopped photographing and he could feel her eyes on him. He turned to look at her and her expression seemed peculiar, as if she was flustered.

“What?” Phillip asked, looking down at his clothes and running a hand through his hair, concerned something was out of place.

“I’m sorry… just… thinking.” Steph snapped a couple more pictures. They repeated this process in the sitting room, at the grand piano, and in the billiard room. “Alright, I think we’re good.”

“That’s brilliant because it’s time for lunch,” Nanna said from behind them.

Phillip noticed with a great deal of suspicion that Nanna had seated him next to Stephanie at the table. Lunch became a trip down memory lane. After catching Phillip up on the small amount of local gossip, conversation turned to Phillip’s parents who owned a bookstore in Cambridge. Then Nanna proceeded to tell Steph about Linda and Danielle, his two younger sisters who were unmarried and childless.

“And they’re both at University now, so I suppose there is some hope I might see great grandchildren before I die.” Phillip could see Nanna hadn’t lost her touch; she was an expert on guilt.

“I imagine you have a good 25 years before that’s a concern,” Steph remarked. Phillip loved her for it when Nanna’s face blossomed with a wide smile.

They then turned the subject to Phillip’s childhood and his many antics. Most of them were embarrassing and obnoxious, ranging from his boyhood desire to move to Texas and become a cowboy to his defiant teenage shenanigans.

“So his Granddad had to take the switch to him yet again for jumping the fence. You were always such a show off…is it any wonder you are world famous?” Nanna asked with her infectious laugh. Phillip couldn’t help but snicker at the story. Steph was laughing too, but for once it seemed to be with him, not at him.

“I suppose I would have been arrested in America for switching him eh, Stephanie?” Granddad’s brown eyes shifted to Steph.

Phillip held his breath, wondering what Steph would say…she was always so cheeky.

“Oh, no. When Phillip was little, paddles were all the rage in America. Or belts. They might have considered it being soft on him.”

Phillip chuckled, knowing her remark was a commentary on how difficult he had been with her. She was being very kind, playing along and humoring his Nanna and Granddad’s assumptive comments that they were a couple. He promised himself he would try to be kinder to her on the way back to Dublin.

His grandparents grilled Stephanie about her family and seemingly wanted to know everything about her life. Steph obliged. Obviously proud of her parent’s success, she appeared modest about her personal achievements. His grandparents gushed when Steph mentioned her father was Irish born. She impersonated his accent quite well to their delight. Explaining that her mother had been American, Phillip was surprised when Steph added she’d been killed in an auto accident when she was a teenager.

“You weren’t in the accident, were you?” Granddad asked. Phillip was mortified, as he remembered what he’d said to her about her mother and nepotism. He’d had no idea her mother was no longer living.

“No. I was with my father at a concert. Cedric, my brother, was in the accident. He was driving.” Steph’s voice had a gentle quality as she spoke about the situation. Phillip listened closely, completely enraptured at the unexpected disclosure about her past.

“What a hard thing for a young person to deal with.” Granddad whistled sympathetically.

“Was he injured as well?” The words were out of Phillip’s mouth before he realized he’d asked them out loud. Steph turned to him and he saw pain in her eyes.

“He was a runner. He doesn’t do that anymore.”

She turned back to his grandparents, heaved a sigh, and continued her story.

“The other driver was drunk,” Steph offered. “There was nothing anyone could have done for her. My brother held her hand and watched her die.”

Phillip was tense, unsure how to respond. He watched her closely to see if she would break down. She didn’t.

“Oh my. I’m so sorry, Darlin’,” Nanna murmured.

“There’s no need to apologize, it was years ago. To be truthful, my brother was deeply moved by the experience. It was a very pivotal moment in his life. He decided to attend seminary in Rome. He was ordained a priest four years ago.”

“How lovely. It must be magnificent to have a priest in the family!” Granddad chimed in, looking at Phillip approvingly. Stephanie had no way of knowing his family was Catholic. She’d just knocked one out of the park and he knew he would never live it down when he didn’t marry her.

“He’s actually a bit of a rebel in our clan. I’m sure he doesn’t approve of my language in the slightest.” His grandparents laughed and he knew she’d won them over. Even when she admitted to character flaws they just admired her honesty. He’d had many moments during lunch that he’d forgotten entirely that they were not on friendly terms.

“Let’s go for a ride while there is a break in the rain. The horses are ready,” Granddad suggested after lunch.

“And, while you two are gone, I’ll enjoy visiting further with Stephanie.” Nanna put her arm in Steph’s and led her to the sitting room. Phillip eyed Nanna with suspicion but left with his Granddad.

“So tell me my dear, how long have you been in love with my grandson?” Sophia asked the moment they were alone.

Steph couldn’t help but laugh at Sophia’s doggedness.

“I’m sorry, Sophia, but I’ve only known Phillip for a couple weeks and we have a purely business relationship.”

It tasted like a lie the moment the words left her mouth. Steph laughed lightly, but saw that Sophia was eyeing her closely. “To be honest, we don’t get along well at all.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. You two really complement each other. And here I was hoping for a wedding by Christmas,” Sophia stated. “I’m not going to be around forever.”

As they waited outside for the men to return on horseback, Steph observed the darkening sky. There was another storm rolling in fast. She was about to comment on the weather to Sophia when the men appeared from the tree line. Watching them approach the house was breathtaking. Both were clearly skilled riders, though Steph knew little about the subject. As they stood watching, Phillip jumped a particularly high fence. He looked like an epic hero as he approached them. His eyes met Steph’s and the moment was surreal, like something out of a storybook. She could feel her cheeks burning and noticed Sophia watching her in her peripheral vision.

By the time they left, she was absolutely mad about Phillip’s grandparents. Many promises to visit again were made before Steph was allowed to leave the estate. After such a happy scene it pained her to think about the long silent drive back to Dublin. As they waved goodbye it began to pour again. They hurried to the car.

“Your grandparents are fantastic!” She beamed. She waved once more. When Phillip didn’t reply, her stomach sank and she knew they were back to their opposite corners. He put the car in gear and they drove off slowly. Soon it was evident that the storm was going to make the ride home long and painfully quiet.

They drove for some time in deafening silence. Finally Steph couldn’t stand it any longer.

“I really enjoy driving in the beautiful countryside with you.”

Steph had meant to sound sarcastic, but was surprised at how genuine it sounded. Phillip glanced at her, then away.

“Another silent treatment. What did I do now?” Steph wished she could keep her mouth shut. She was finding it impossible to deal with his stoic silence. Even she couldn’t understand why she wanted to engage him in conversation now, when previously she’d been overjoyed with their distance.

“I just would like to have some peace and quiet,” Phillip muttered without looking at her. Steph rolled her eyes and turned away to stare out the window. The torrential rain, made visibility almost nonexistent.

“How much longer until we get back?”

“An hour at this rate,” he stated bluntly. As they took a curve in the road there was a sudden a loud pop. Steph shrieked and Phillip counter steered as the car veered toward the ditch.

Once the car came to a halt, Phillip slammed the car into park and got out. Steph sat in her seat shaking uncontrollably. Phillip yanked the car door open and grabbed the keys. A moment later he stuck his head back in the car. He was soaked.

“What’s wrong?” Steph’s voices shaking.

“Flat.” He slammed the door shut.

Steph watched him as he walked to the trunk.

“Bugger all!”

Steph lunged out of the car.

Phillip leaned against the car with his head down. “The key broke off in the lock!”

“You mean we have no keys and a flat tire?” She shivered.

“Yes and evidentially no cell phone reception,” Phillip snapped. “We have to walk.”

“Where? It’s an hour into Dublin and thirty minutes back to the estate.”

“Yeah, and that’s by car, not on foot. Get your things. I saw a cottage around the last bend!” Phillip yelled over the sound of the rain and the thunder.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Steph headed back to the car.

“Ok then. Stay and freeze your arse off.” He began walking.

Steph held her ground for a moment, and then grabbed her camera bag and purse. She followed, cursing him under her breath. Barely able to see, cold rain relentlessly beat down on them. Just when it seemed like they had been walking forever, Phillip stopped and waited for her to catch up.

“There’s the cottage,” he informed her. Steph ran for it, and could sense Phillip close behind her. They approached a small, white washed cottage with a thatched roof partially hidden by bushes. The yard looked unattended and dust covered the windows. They hurried onto the porch and gasped to catch their breath. Phillip knocked on the door.

“I highly doubt anyone lives here.” Steph was frustrated as she peered at the yard and the porch which was in major disrepair.

Phillip wiggled the doorknob and the door creaked open.

“Do you really think it’s safe to go in?” Steph’s teeth chattered.

“Would you rather stay outside and catch pneumonia? At least it’s dry,” he snapped.

He walked into the tiny structure and was enveloped by darkness. A moment later, Steph followed him. Once inside, she sat her camera bag and purse down and apprehensively walked forward. She squinted, but couldn’t see anything. She stopped for a second, and then continued forward boldly.

“Phillip?” She reached out and touched something that moved. She screamed when Phillip grabbed her. His laugh was gentle.

“It’s just me,” he said letting her go. “Do you have a lighter?”

Relieved, Steph exhaled deeply. Phillip’s voice was surprisingly soothing. She dug until she found a lighter in her purse and flicked it on. Phillip stood before her, his hair slicked back and his blue eyes flashing brightly. He held out several half burnt candles; Steph lit them one by one.

“You scared me to death,” she mumbled. Phillip placed candles around the room. As Steph’s eyes adjusted to the light, she saw a trunk against the far wall. She opened it and found that it was full of blankets. As her eyes began to adjust to the candlelight, she took in the rest of the rooms contents: a small table, a fireplace and several pieces of furniture draped by dustcovers. Phillip removed one from a chair, causing her to sneeze.

“Sorry.” He flashed a cocky grin. Under the sheet was an old rocking chair. He continued around the room and uncovered two additional chairs and a cracked full length mirror. “Somebody’s got seven years bad luck.”

He sat down on a second pile of blankets he’d found. Steph gingerly sat in the rocking chair and began searching for her cell phone.

“Shit,” she blurted. “I forgot my phone at the hotel.”

She threw her purse to the floor.

Phillip glanced at her then removed his jacket.

Even though she felt overwhelmed and frustrated, Steph couldn’t help by admire his large tattooed biceps.

“No reception, remember?” He casually looked around. “You know with some new drapes this place wouldn’t look half bad.”

“I’m freezing.” Steph’s teeth chattered as she rubbed her hands together.

“I guess I could chop down a tree.” He walked to the window. He picked up one of the sheets and began wiping away the thick layer of dust.

“That would be fine if the trees were dry,” Steph snapped.

“Maybe if our cells worked we could ring Davey Boy and he could come to your rescue again,” Phillip retorted.

“What is all this Davey Boy’ crap?” Phillip didn’t reply or even look in her direction. Steph stood and opened the door. It rained heavily and lightening lit up the charcoal hued sky.

“We’ve got to get to a phone!” She slammed the door shut and began pacing. Phillip settled against the wall on the blankets, appearing completely underwhelmed.

“Go ahead if you want.” He rolled his eyes. “I was planning on waiting for the rain to let up, but if you’re determined to leave...”

“Fine, I will! I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

“Then just sit down and chill out.”

“I cannot wait to get back to the hotel—” Before she could finish her sentence about getting a dry change of clothes, Phillip interrupted her.

“And back to David?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” She stopped pacing and faced him. He leaned against the wall casually, his hands interlaced behind his head. Even though Phillip was being an insufferable jackass, the sight of his impressive arms and magnificent jaw turned her on. Instantly her mind replayed their tryst on the plane and she felt her desire for him awakening. His eyes mocked her condescendingly, and she detested herself for wanting him so badly.

“I suppose you’ll deny David spent the night in your room?”

Steph looked at him thoughtfully and to her amazement he seemed jealous. Maybe Cheyenne was onto something after all. She decided to test her theory. “Yes, he did.”

Phillip slowly climbed to his feet and though the candlelight made it hard to be sure, Steph thought his gorgeous features seemed flushed.

“Judging by the look on his face he had a smashing time.” He scowled at her.

“Well you know…I aim to please.”

In a flash, Phillip closed the distance between them. He towered over her and her heart lurched in her chest. She looked up into his eyes and the pain she saw in them caused her to immediately look away. Consumed with regret, she decided it was time to soften her tone and end her game playing. Her temper often clouded her judgment; she remembered her brother endless lectures to stop and think before she spoke.

“He slept in the chair. He has a girlfriend he calls every day. Not every woman in the world is going to fall on her back just because the man’s a rock star.”

When he didn’t reply, she stole a glance at him.

Phillip stood silent and seemed to ponder this turn of events. He was so close to her she could feel the heat radiating from him, and his potency was disturbing. Confused by her conflicting feelings, she had the overwhelming urge to run.

“You know, I think I will wait in the car after all,” she announced and rushed out the door. The minute she stepped off the porch, she slipped in the mud and fell. Humiliated, she covered her face with a muddy hand wishing she could simply disappear. A hand on her shoulder made her look up. Phillip stood over her and, as he leaned down, the rain dripped off his face and onto hers.

“Come inside.” His voice was gentle as he offered his hand. Steph batted it away.

“Get away from me,” she cried.

Phillip sighed and offered his hand once more. Reluctantly, she reached out and grasped it. She looked up at him feeling dreadfully vulnerable. As she stood up she began to slip again and Phillip embraced her, steadying her body with his. They stood together in the rain staring at one another. A million words seemed to pass between them, though neither one of them spoke. Phillip reached out and brushed mud from her cheek. Rain ran down his rugged face and Steph’s eyes went to his parted wet lips. Remembering how he tasted, she could see Phillip’s breath and knew it was chilly but she felt warm all over. His face neared hers. Her heart racing, Stephanie tilted her head back, and their lips met. The sky lit magnificently, echoing their electricity, and thunder echoed around them. They pulled apart lingering for a moment.

“We’d better get inside.” His expression was serious as he glanced at the myriad of lightning strikes nearby. He led her back into the cottage and once inside, Steph opened the trunk of blankets, shivering violently. Phillip easily ripped the rocking chair apart, and placed the wood into the fireplace. Meanwhile, Steph wrapped one of the blankets around her body and attempted to shed her wet clothes. Once finally undressed, she clutched the blanket around herself as she draped her wet undergarments over a nearby chair. Phillip approached her and with a glance at her bra and panties on the chair, he blushed deeply. He took her hand and led her to the blanket pile in front of the tiny fire he’d built.

“Sorry about the fire. I never did do well in Boy Scouts.”

Steph smiled. Phillip found another blanket and stood, looking from the blanket to Steph.

“Could you turn around so I can get out of these wet clothes?”

“OK.” She turned away, but watched him undress in the broken mirror. His bronze, muscular body lived up to his sex god image, and Steph wished she could break out her camera.

“Are you enjoying the show?” he asked.

She turned to look at him directly.

They locked eyes, silent for some time. As he joined her by the fire, she thought about his gentle nature with his family and his visit to her room when she’d been feeling ill. His contradicting behavior frustrated her, but right now she felt frustrated in an entirely different way.

He reached out and stroked her cheek and his lips brushed hers. Steph’s hands instinctively went to his strong chest and she traced his ripped muscles with her fingertips. A small growl escaped him and his kiss deepened. Steph pulled away and stared into his eyes which traveled hungrily downward, and she realized her blanket had fallen open. She attempted to cover herself, but Phillip stopped her hand and shook his head. His eyes glittered with delight as he pushed the blanket down over her shoulders. His mouth trailed from her jawline down her neck to the soft flesh of her breasts. As he ran a hand down her back, she shivered at his touch. He pushed her back on the blankets, kissing her forcefully. His lips traveled down her body, lingering on the succulent flesh of her breasts. Squirming deliciously beneath his mouth, she grabbed fistfuls of his hair, pulling his lips to hers. Her thoughts raced as his tongue touched hers again. As she tasted him, she couldn’t help but feel that his lips were made for hers. Steph thought she could spend every waking moment for the rest of her days kissing this man. Thrusting her girly sentiments aside, she rolled over on top of him covering his body with wet taunting kisses. She felt him wrap her hair around his hand as if it were a rope. His aggressiveness aroused her more and her enthusiasm matched his as she enveloped him with her mouth.

“Stephanie,” Phillip moaned.

Pulling at her hair, it appeared he was no longer able to stand the temptation. She allowed him to bring her face up to his and saw his eager eyes heavy with lust. Lifting her and positioning her on top of him, he brought her down roughly onto his rigidness. Steph cried out in pleasure. His hands caressed her breasts as they ravaged each other like depraved animals. She reveled in the passionate way he reacted to her every move. When Steph’s orgasm overtook her, she clawed at Phillip’s chest, inspiring him to explode. She collapsed on his chest and heard his heart pounding wildly. He kissed her tenderly and rolled her over onto her back. Feeling euphoric, she delighted as he pulled her into an embrace. He wrapped a blanket around them both, cradling her in his arms. They entangled in another passionate kiss, while outside the storm raged on.

Cheyenne stood by the window in her room, staring out at her rainy view of the mountains. The day had taken an ugly turn, and she was upset and regretful that she’d taken chances with her career. As soon as she’d returned to her room, Adam Brier called. Ian had called him telling him about the situation. Furious over the way she’d represented the magazine, Adam stated that the story had better be ‘award winning’ or her career at The Sound Wave would be in jeopardy.

Glancing at her watch she saw it was 4:00 pm and felt relieved Steph would be back soon. Dialing Steph’s number, she frowned when she heard it ring in the next room. Evidently Steph had been pretty freaked out about her trip with Phillip if she’d forgotten her beloved cellphone. Sighing, she sat in front of her computer and began surfing the web. Had it not been for the rain, she’d have explored Dublin further on foot, lockdown or not. Cheyenne considered that in some ways, Ian seemed jealous of the relationship she and Steph had developed with Fury. The band treated Ian like a nagging wife. The sound of sirens approaching outside pulled her from her theories.

Hurrying to the window, from her vantage point she couldn’t see anything. Deciding to ignore Ian’s request and investigate, she made her way to the elevator and down to the lobby. Once there, she spotted Goddess talking to the police.

Now what did she do?

Goddess looked in her direction and waved.

“What’s going on?”

“This is Cheyenne Carson. She’s a journalist. Maybe she knows him,” Goddess told the policeman.

“Did you know Sam Ridgley?” one of the officers asked.

Cheyenne shook her head.

“Who?”

Goddess was wide eyed.

“He was one of the roadies. They think he jumped.”

A waved of realization washed over her. Sam was the young roadie Steph had talked to backstage.

“Oh, w…wow,” Cheyenne stammered in disbelief.

“Ms. Carson, Goddess told us that you and a Stephanie Brier are here doing a story on Fury. Do you have any information about Mr. Ridgley?”

“We never met. I believe Steph spoke with him one night backstage.”

“And where is she currently?” the police officer asked.

“She’s not here but she'll be back soon.”

He handed Cheyenne a card. “Please, have her call me.”

Cheyenne glanced at Goddess. “Goddess, can I talk to you?”

“Go ahead, we are finished for now,” the police officer said. Cheyenne pulled Goddess in the bar.

“Did you see anything?” Cheyenne whispered.

“Yeah… it was weird, I was walking along and splat there he was.” Goddess shrugged.

“That’s morbid.”

“You asked. I’ve got to get ready. I’m going out tonight.”

“Goddess?”

“Yeah?”

“Why is it that no one in L.A. knows who you are?” Goddess’s eyes immediately met Cheyenne’s.

“I was wondering when you would ask me that question.” Goddess’s demeanor changed and her speech seemed crisp and different. “Everything will be clear to you very soon, Cheyenne. Can I ask you not to talk to anyone else about this conversation?”

“I suppose. But I am doing this for Adam Brier, not for you.”

“Ian is going to call you to a conference room tonight and announce to the band that you are leaving after Rome. I thought you might like the time to prepare.”

Without another word, Goddess walked out of the bar and left the hotel through the lobby.

Cheyenne watched her go, ruminating. Her gut told her to trust Adam, and this was not the time to stop trusting her gut.

Ian watched the bedlam from his window. Paralyzed with regret, he wondered how he’d allowed himself to get involved in such mayhem. He’d managed to destroy his personal life years before, and now his career was in shambles.

“Do you realize how sloppy this was?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“Murder is sloppy,” Duncan said from behind him.

Ian shook his head.

“You disgust me.” Duncan laughed, making Ian’s skin crawl. The phone rang and he picked it up. The police. He made arrangements to speak with them and hung up.

“Please leave me and don’t let anyone see you.”

Duncan shrugged then left the room.

Ian turned to Rodney and Steve, who sat in his suite.

“He was calling the redhead.” Steve seemed nonchalant. “He left us little choice.”

Ian surveyed Steve, then Rodney. He mustered the courage to proceed.

“I called Mr. Brier and he is sending all the records we wanted to see. As soon as I get them I will be in touch,” Ian whispered. “It sounds like she is who she says she is.”

“Alright, perhaps she’s not a mole. Still, I really think this was a big mistake on your part, Ian,” Rodney replied. “Cheyenne is smarter than she looks and I think she’s onto us.”

“I really don’t know when she would find the time with all her cavorting.” Ian’s animosity for both men was obvious, but he no longer cared to hide it. His career had become a farce due to his association with them, and what little relationship he’d managed to maintain with Fury was slipping away. Cheyenne’s presence had only complicated his precarious alliance with his band.

“She’ll be gone soon, gentlemen. I need to go to the airport and take care of the arrangements for the product. Soon this will all be over and we can go back to doing what we’ve done before,” Steve smirked.

Ian knew he wouldn’t relax until Cheyenne was back in Chicago.

Phillip woke with a yawn and rolled over, discovering Stephanie was no longer at his side. Sunlight shone through the grimy windows and it appeared as if the storms of the day before were behind them. Digging in the pockets of his discarded pants for his cell phone, he slipped the jeans on. Finding his phone, which now had reception, he discovered it was nine am. Phillip wasn’t surprised, remembering how late into the night they’d enjoyed each other’s company. As he put his arm into his shirt sleeve, he poked his head out the door. Steph was sitting on the porch steps wearing only a t-shirt and his boxers. She was looking out at the clear blue sky. Joining her, took her hand.

Without looking at him, she spoke.

“Your phone has reception. I called Ian. He’s sending a tow truck for us. We should probably get back to the car.” Her stunning eyes were on him suddenly, catching him by surprise.

“You were holding out on me,” she murmured holding up a cigarette.

“You never asked.” He returned a tender smile and placed a delicate kiss on her full lips. A small sound of pleasure escaped her as their tongues intertwined. When they parted, she rested her head on his shoulder and he put his arm around her. Steph crushed out the cigarette, having smoked it to the butt. They went inside the cottage and gathered their belongings. Philip bit his lip wanting to ask what she was thinking, and chided himself for being such a girl.

Steph began to speak on their way out the door.

“Phillip…” she stopped and seemed to search for words.

“Hmmm?”

“Do you even want to talk about it?”

Phillip stopped in his tracks and in turn, Steph stopped and turned to him.

“Look, I know I’m not good at this. I’ve been an imbecile.”

“Phillip…” she began, and then trailed off. She looked past him. He turned to look at what had pulled her attention away and saw a tow truck in the distance hitching up the rental car. He experienced an array of emotions in rapid succession. Leaving the safety of their cottage and rejoining the real world seemed daunting. He had a moment to wonder what would happen when they were surrounded by the pressures of their careers and friends. Without another word they began running toward the driver who waved cheerfully. After expressing their gratitude, they climbed into the truck. Phillip felt hypersensitive to her presence in the small cab. He had to put his arm around her in order so the three of them could sit comfortably, and touching her was practically unbearable. When Phillip saw the driver give Steph’s legs an admiring look, he practically pulled her onto his lap. When she snuggled into him, he was surprised and pleased by her reaction. He stroked her wild hair affectionately and she closed her eyes. The truck driver winked at Phillip and popped in a cd of some Irish drinking songs. He began singing along as they made the trip back to Dublin.

Cheyenne frantically paced the floor. Bret had appeared on her doorstep around dinner time the previous evening. He’d been concerned that Phillip had not met him at the restaurant for dinner as planned. He’d wondered if she’d heard from Stephanie. Cheyenne explained that Steph had forgotten her cell phone and Bret said Phillip’s phone was going straight to voicemail. He left to inform Ian, and Cheyenne had begun to feel more uneasy with every passing hour. Around 11:00 pm, she’d finally worked up the courage to call Ian. He informed her that he’d just tracked down Phillip’s grandparents number and they told him Steph and Phillip had left hours before. Ian had security out searching for them.

It was now 10:00 a.m. and Cheyenne felt sick with dread. Remembering the ugly last conversation she’d had with Steph, her writers mind played out every scenario that would delay them this long and none of them had a happy ending.

When she heard Steph’s door open, Cheyenne flung open their adjoining door.

“What the hell happened to you? Where have you been?” Cheyenne relief quickly made way for amusement at her friend’s appearance. Steph’s wore a wrinkled man’s t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts with her favorite red cowboy boots. The rest of her clothes were in a wad under her arm. She had mud caked in her hair and her cheeks and neck were all red and splotchy.

“Don’t ask.” Steph collapsed on her bed.

Cheyenne sat on the bed and faced her.

“First of all I want to apologize for being so bitchy to you.” Cheyenne was relieved to be able to unload. “I really was starting to think you were dead in a ditch.”

“I’m sorry too, for butting in. Have you seen my phone?”

“Yeah, I heard it in here when I tried to call you.” Cheyenne handed her the cell. “Steph, I really need to tell you some things.”

“Ok.?”

Cheyenne’s own discomfort made her anxious. She took a deep breath.

“Sam Ridgley is dead. “

“Come again?” Steph looked numb.

“The police aren’t saying whether he was pushed or if he jumped.” Cheyenne’s voice quivered.

“Oh, My God,” Steph whispered, putting a shaking hand over her mouth.

“The police want to talk to you.” Cheyenne handed her the policeman’s card. “Are you going to be all right?”

She put her hands on Steph’s shoulders.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” Steph bolted for the bathroom. Cheyenne sighed and shook her head. She walked to the closed bathroom door. Inside she heard the faucet running.

“There’s more.” Cheyenne took another deep breath. “I had a lovely meeting with Ian and his business associates yesterday. Ian’s called your Dad, requesting our background information.”

Steph opened the bathroom door. “What?”

Cheyenne sat down. “They’ve made arrangements for me to leave after Rome.”

“This is a nightmare,” Steph groaned.

“Your father’s extremely pissed off and I may be fired,” Cheyenne added.

“I’d like to see him try.” Steph looked ready for war. Cheyenne took a moment to be grateful for Steph’s loyalty, and then quickly explained to her how she’d contacted Gerald about Steve. She said nothing about Goddess, as promised.

“Your father wants you to call.” Cheyenne lit a cigarette.

Steph sat silent for a moment. Cheyenne thought Steph looked on the verge of tears.

Steph looked at her phone and told Cheyenne she’d had missed several calls from her father and two from an unknown number. Putting her voicemail on speaker, they listened to Adam rave on and on.

It was the last message that grabbed their attention. A meek male voice stammered.

“Stephanie, this is Sam. You told me to call and I’m ready to talk. Meet me on the roof at 4:30.” Cheyenne looked at Steph wide-eyed.

“You’ve got to tell the police about this.” Steph nodded. The color had drained from her face.

“He was pushed!” Steph stammered. “All because of me and my stupid big mouth!”

“It’s not your fault. None of this mess is.”

“How can you say that? Maybe if I hadn’t forgotten my phone Sam would still be alive!”

“No, you’d probably be in a body bag. What could you have done?”

Steph seemed to contemplate Cheyenne’s response.

“What could he have known that would be worth killing him for?” Cheyenne’s eyes darted back and forth as she tried to piece the wicked mess together, but came up with nothing. Stephanie sat, shaking her head.

“I guess I’ll call my dad.”

“One last thing,” Cheyenne sighed. “We have to attend a meeting in the conference room tonight with Ian and Fury.”

“For what?” Steph dialed her father’s number.

“I think it’s so he can announce I’m leaving.”

For the next twenty minutes, Cheyenne sat in awe while Steph and her father argued and screamed at each other over the phone.

“You have no idea what’s going on over here. Let me put it to you this way, Dad. Once this story is over, I’m done with The Sound Wave. I cannot keep doing this. I can’t have you as my boss anymore, we’re done.”

When the conversation ended, Steph went to the mini bar. She grabbed a mini bottle of whiskey and chugged it.

“What time is the frickin’ meeting?’ She growled.

Cheyenne was taken aback. “5:00.”

“Great, I’m going to shower, then talk to the police,” Steph said. Stunned by Steph’s conversation with her father, Cheyenne returned to her room. The future was more uncertain than ever; she felt as if she were in a free fall.

“I want at least two drinks in me before this meeting starts,” Steph groaned.

They made their way to the conference room where once again security guards awaited them. They continued into the lounge and Cheyenne was pleased that only Bret and David were there. While drowning their sorrows, they spent the next hour listening to David discuss new song ideas with Bret, who was surprisingly quiet.

“Do you know what this meeting is about?” Bret looked curious. “I was really hoping to get some practice time in before the concert tonight.”

“I think I have an idea, but I’ll let Ian tell you.” Cheyenne tipped her drink.

Cheyenne and Steph continued to drink while Bret talked about his son’s obsession with starting the dishwasher and David talked about his Brazilian girlfriend. Cheyenne saw the rest of the band enter the room and noticed Stephanie seemed as unnerved as she did. Much to her dismay, Ian and his associates followed.

“Attention everyone, please,” Ian demanded. All eyes turned to him.

Cheyenne wanted to run away, but thanks to Goddess (whoever she was) tipping her off, she was ready for him.

“Well, Chaps, we have four more shows in Europe after tonight.”

The five men clapped and whistled half-heartedly.

“Bloody hell, what a bunch of duds you all are tonight. I know the situation with our crew member has been upsetting, but the show must go on. You will all have a holiday before we begin our rehearsals for the first concert in New York, therefore I want your undivided attention for the next five shows. Needless to say, our performance quality has been slipping. It’s no secret there’s been a distraction causing friction between two of the band mates.” Ian paused, looking at Cheyenne. “We will be saying goodbye to Cheyenne in Rome.”

She glared at Ian for his unnecessary bluntness.

“She will be interviewing Phillip on the flight to Rome and Bret soon after,” Ian proclaimed. “I think we should all thank her for her hard work and let her know how eagerly we await the release of our story in The Sound Wave.”

Ian began to applaud. The band joined in but tension reigned.

“Now ladies, if you don’t mind we have a few things to discuss in private.” Ian rose to shake their hands.

Cheyenne stood and cleared her throat. She’d made up her mind earlier that she wouldn’t slink away. She’d leave clean and on her own terms.

“Thank you Ian for such a gracious introduction, but I have something I’d like to add.” She turned from him, having time to register his expression of surprise. “It’s been fascinating getting to know you all and from what I’ve seen, the fans are going to eat this article up. I’ve had a blast and I’m looking forward to the final interviews. I wish you all luck with the rest of the tour.”

Cheyenne looked at Scot, but couldn’t see his expression. The entire time she’d been speaking, he’d sat with his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. Scot’s right hand was bruised and he had cuts on his knuckles. Nathan stared at her while he smoked a cigarette. His right eye was swollen and discolored and his facial expression unreadable. The three other men looked at one another and seemed to avoid looking at Nathan and Scot. Cheyenne and Stephanie gathered their purses and walked out the door without shaking Ian’s hand.

“What a bastard,” Cheyenne commented half way down the hall.

“Yep,” Steph agreed. “I kind of envy you. I can’t wait to go home.”

Steph walked into her room and turned on the lights. Roses were everywhere and their cloying smell caused her to sneeze. Behind her, she heard the bathroom door open. She turned to see her ex, Kevin, standing before her, donning a silk robe that seemed way too short for a man. His highlighted hair was perfectly styled with pounds of product and Steph knew if she touched it, it would feel like a rock.

“Hello, My Lady.” His brown eyes glowed with adoration. Steph stood with her mouth hanging open. Kevin always had impeccable timing. He whisked her into his arms.

“K…Kevin…” Steph stammered. Before she could protest, his lips were on hers. She pushed against his chest and when he finally pulled away she gaped at him in disbelief.

“Oh Pumpkin, I missed you so much.” He cradled her face in his hands.

Steph wriggled away from him and put space between them.
“Kevin, why are you here?”

He laughed lightly as he crossed to her and wrapped his arms around her.

“Because I promised you we would talk. I’ve made an important decision.” Steph shrugged off his embrace.

“What’s there to talk about? You said you needed your space.” Steph maneuvered away from him again and moved behind the chair. She didn’t want him to touch her during this long overdue confrontation. As she took in his spikey two toned hair and meticulous manscaping, she struggled to remember what ever attracted her to him in the first place.

“I needed space to decide what was right for us,” Kevin offered, sitting down on the bed.

“You mean what’s right for you. How is Maria anyway? According to the tabloids, you were quite the item.” She raised a sassy eyebrow and folded her arms across her chest.

“That was nothing. It was trumped up by the studio to promote the film. You know how this all works.” Steph shook her head. He wasn’t the actor he thought he was.

“I was a wreck when you left.” She shook her head in disbelief. It was baffling that she’d ever been interested in Kevin.

“I know my love, I’m so sorry. I know it tore you apart.” He blinked innocently.. His attempt at charm seemed smarmy.

Steph suddenly wanted another shower.

“Well, let’s not get carried away.” Steph rolled her eyes. “I was pissed off and humiliated, but I wouldn’t say I’ve been grieving.”

“I’ve spoken to your father and I went to see Cedric.” Same old Kevin; he hadn’t listened to a word she’d said.

“Why did you see Cedric, Kevin?’ Steph couldn’t mask her astonishment that he’d gone to Rome and bothered her brother.

“I wanted to do this the right way and get their permission.”

As if he’d been waiting for her to ask that particular question, Kevin got down one knee; he pulled a small red box out of his pocket. Steph eyed the window and the door, plotting her escape.

“Stephanie, I’ve thought it over and I want you to be my wife.” He opened the box revealing a pretentiously huge diamond ring.

Steph stared at him in disbelief and shook her head. “I can’t believe this.” She walked to the window.

“I couldn’t believe it either, but I figured you would love it. I know it’s a little big.” Kevin beamed with pride.

“Kevin, shut up!”

“Ok, well maybe you need time to think about it.”

“No. I don’t.”

“Well?”

Steph sighed. “I don’t love you, and honestly I don’t think I ever have.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying, Pumpkin. I know you’re angry.” He looked at her as if she were a small child behaving irrationally. He approached her again, pulling her in for a kiss.

“Stephanie, can I come in?” Steph heard Phillip’s voice. She felt like someone had knocked the wind out of her. She broke free from the kiss and looked at Phillip, who was standing in her doorway. Phillip glared at Kevin, his face livid. His looked at Steph and nausea gripped her when she saw the repulsion in his eyes.

“Excuse me.” It was almost a whisper. He closed the door.

Steph snapped. She pushed Kevin and he stumbled, landing on the bed awkwardly.

“The answer is no. Just go home.” Steph grabbed her purse.

“Why?” Kevin looked confused and red faced. “Who was that?”

“No one you need to concern yourself with,” she said coolly as she walked out the door and slammed it.

Scot sat in his suit with a book in his lap. After reading the same paragraph for an hour, he gave up and set it aside. He wanted to go be with Cheyenne while there was still time, but he managed to suppress these instincts. He’d been wracking his brain for a solution to their predicament, and was mentally and emotionally exhausted.

A knock at his door pulled him from his thoughts. He opened the door and Phillip whizzed past him into the room.

“That bitch!” he spat.

Scot rolled his eyes and cursed himself for pitifully thinking it might be her. I’m such a Nancy Boy.

“I can’t believe her.” Phillip paced wildly. He ran a hand through his hair which looked uncharacteristically disheveled. “…After what happened between us.”

“Calm down Phillip.” His curiosity temporarily allowed him to push Cheyenne from his mind.

Phillip plopped down in a chair and lit a cigarette. “How could I be so stupid?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“What are you on about?”

“Stephanie,” Phillip growled.

“What about her?”

Phillip shook his head. “You’ve been so wrapped up in your own little melodrama you don’t have a fucking clue what’s going on around you,” Philip accused. He paused and took a long drag from his cigarette. Scot was troubled as he realized Phillip was very distraught. “Scot I’ve got to talk to someone about this or I’ll go bonkers.”

“You… and Stephanie?” Scot stared at Phillip who responded with a glum nod.

“God help me, as we speak she is in her room kissing that douche bag, Kevin Wiley. I thought after we shagged it would work itself out, apparently not.”

Scot sat down across from Phillip. His hands went to his temples, as if holding his head in place would keep it from exploding. “What are you going to do?”

The door suddenly opened and Bret rushed in.

“Hi.” Bret seemed almost giddy. “I just finished talking with Ian, but wanted to tell you myself.’” He glanced from Phillip to Scot, seeming to notice the uneasiness in the room. He cleared his throat.

“I’m leaving the band.”

“You cannot be serious,” Phillip growled.

“I'll finish the European tour. Sarah is pregnant again and I want to be able to spend more time with my family.” Scot and Phillip gawked at him, and Scot felt numb with shock. “I can’t stand by and let Ian control every facet of my life. It’s what I need to do.”

Scot blinked at Phillip and sighed.

“All I can say is good luck.” Scot’s words tumbled out of his mouth. He shook Bret’s hand.

“Thanks.” Bret seemed relieved. His gaze shifted to Phillip who heaved an exasperated sigh.

“Sod off, Bret.” Phillip’s insult was halfhearted, and he bumped fists with Bret.

“We’ve still got some shows to do. Let’s make the best of them.” Bret smiled. “Thanks for understanding blokes.” He closed the door as he left.

Phillip and Scot sat in silence. Scot had the sensation that someone had taken his world and upended it.

“What the hell’s going on?” Phillip exclaimed.

“Times they are a changing,” Scot replied, then laughed. “God, I sound like my father.”

“Why all of this now?” Phillip complained. “Things were going great.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Phillip. It wasn’t that great. I’ve been bored as hell reading books in my hotel room and you’ve been screwing groupies like it’s going out of style. If you’re not careful you’re going to become Nathan. Ian can kiss my arse. I need to see this through with Cheyenne.” Scot’s tirade ended and he waited impatiently for Phillip’s reply.

“How can you be so wrapped up in someone you’ve only known for a few weeks?”

“I wasn’t aware there was a time limit.” Scot laughed.

Phillip shrugged.

“I'll tell you another thing. It won’t be long before Stephanie leaves too. You need to talk to her—don’t bury your head in the sand.”

Scot walked to the bar.

Phillip folded his arms and rested his head on the table.

“She’s evil,” he mumbled and Scot laughed.

Scot poured them each a shot. “She’s not evil.”

“What are you planning to do about Cheyenne?” Phillip raised his head from the table. As Scot downed his drink, Phillip sat up and when Scot shrugged he looked at the floor. “I’m sorry about the wager. It was so dim of me to get sucked into one of Nathan’s schemes.”

“No doubt. Come on were going to be late for the concert.” Scot slapped Phillip on the back.

Steph knocked on Cheyenne’s door. She looked around to make sure Kevin hadn’t followed her. She’d gone after Phillip, but he wasn’t answering the door. Cheyenne swung her door open and looked disappointed to see her.

“You look like hell.” Steph was happy when a small smile crept across Cheyenne’s face.

“Come in. I couldn’t sleep.”

“You’ll never guess who’s in my room.” Cheyenne shrugged. “Kevin.”

“What does that asshole want?” Cheyenne growled. She and Steph sat down. Cheyenne handed her a cigarette.

“Apparently, my hand in holy matrimony.” Cheyenne’s expression of horror was priceless.

“What did you say?”

“No, of course.” Cheyenne laughed triumphantly. Steph felt her insides crumble and began sobbing uncontrollably.

“You shouldn’t cry. You did the right thing.” Cheyenne was gawking at her.

“I’m not going to marry that idiot,” Steph blurted between sobs. “I need to tell you something, Cheyenne.”

“Ok, go on.” Cheyenne leaned closer to Steph.

“Last night when I was with Phillip…well… the car broke down and his phone didn’t work. We walked to a cottage,” Steph stopped and looked at Cheyenne, “and something happened…”

Cheyenne’s eyes bugged out.

“I think I have feelings for him! Why am I so stupid?”

Cheyenne shook head in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

“But he’s such a dick. Well, I guess that makes him your type.” Steph laughed in spite of her tears and threw a pillow at Cheyenne.

“He’s not what he seems.” Steph gained her composure. Cheyenne paused thoughtfully.

“Have you told him?”

“I haven’t had time between quitting my job, the murder and the meeting. Then he walked in while Kevin was trying to shove his tongue down my throat!” Steph blew her nose.

“We’ve lost all sense of reality.” Cheyenne’s expression told Steph she was done joking around.

Steph nodded. “Can I stay in your room? I don’t want to face Kevin.” Taking an exhausted breath, she felt her breathing slowing to normal.

“I’ll go kick him out,” Cheyenne offered.

“Don’t bother,” Steph said, lying back on the bed. “I just want some sleep.”

As she heard Cheyenne typing on her computer, Steph’s lack of sleep began to sneak up on her. She thought of her attempts to advise Cheyenne throughout this assignment. Who was she to give advice when her own life was such a twisted nightmare?

The next morning Cheyenne packed to leave Ireland. Overcome with ambivalence, she realized the next hotel would be her last and wondered if she’d ever travel for work again. She’d loved Dublin and promised herself she’d come back one day.

“Steph, wake up.” She shook her.

“Do I have to be alive today?” Steph mumbled.

“We need to go to your room and get your stuff packed.”

“It shouldn’t take long. I barely had a chance to unpack.”

Minutes later, they entered Steph’s room.

Roses lay everywhere, and Kevin was nowhere to be seen.

“It looks like a shrine in here.” Cheyenne looked around. She began gathering the roses and throwing them away.

“Kevin loves to throw his money around. Careful don’t prick yourself.” Steph picked up the ring box he’d left on the table and tossed it to Cheyenne.

“It’s probably fake,” Cheyenne murmured, knowing it wasn’t true as she admired the gigantic ring.

Steph ignored the comment and gathered her stuff. When they were finished they knocked on Goddess’s door, getting no reply.

“I hope she’s at the airport,” Cheyenne stated. “What are you going to do with the ring? Leave it for the maid as a tip?”

Steph shook her head.

“Bring it. We’ll donate it at Cedric’s church when we get to Rome.”

They continued on to the lobby. Since a limo wasn't waiting for them, they grabbed a taxi and sped off.

Once at the airport they found Ian. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs yelling at everyone. “Let’s go people, we don’t have all day!”

“I’m so glad this is almost over,” Cheyenne whispered to Steph.

“Quit rubbing it in,” Steph grumbled. They boarded and looked for Goddess who was nowhere to be found. Cheyenne walked to Ian’s seat. The flight attendant was pouring his drink.

“What?” Ian snapped.

“Where’s Goddess?” She was starting to worry.

“She had to leave early. Her mother is ill,” Ian stated.

“That’s nice to know. She has all of the pictures she took with her,” Steph said from behind them.

“Not my problem,” Ian stated. “Please find a seat.”

“I hate that man,” Cheyenne muttered under her breath

Wishing she could tell Steph about Goddess, Cheyenne found a seat and stored her purse. She couldn’t help but notice Scot watching her. Avoiding him, she spotted Phillip and grabbed her tape recorder, heading in his direction. She needed closure, and it was time to put this story to bed.

Watching Cheyenne join Phillip, Steph felt blue as she made her way toward the restroom.

“Hi.” Richard stepped in front of her. “Sorry to hear about your friend, Red. You must be terribly upset.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Steph’s nerves were suddenly on edge and her cheeks burned. She could sense Duncan’s presence behind her and recognized the scent of his cheap cologne.

“Just imagine,” Duncan whispered in her ear. “Dropping six stories. Pow!” He clapped his hands together, making Steph jump.

“What’s going on here?” Ian asked startling all of them.

Steph hurried to the bathroom.

Safely inside, she thought she might vomit again. Taking several deep breaths she tried to convince herself that Duncan and Richard were messing with her, but her gut told her this was a lie. She took a couple of moments to pull herself together before exiting the restroom. She made up her mind not to stop for the roadies, regardless of their comments.

“Stephanie.” Ian’s presence made her jump.

“Ian. I didn’t see you there.” She held her chest. Though not thrilled to see him, she was happy his presence would keep the roadies away.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to startle you. May I trouble you for a moment?” He motioned to the nearby seats.

“Of course.” Steph joined him.

“I was told Sam Ridgley tried to contact you earlier. Apparently he wanted to discuss something with you?”

Steph’s internal alarm system went off.

“I met him backstage one night. He seemed nice… nicer than some of the roadies. Cheyenne and I had discussed interviewing him. I gave him my name and number and told him to call me at his convenience. That’s the last time I heard from him.” Steph thought she sounded pretty convincing. She’d told the authorities the important details and the powers that be understood Sam had been pushed.

“I see.” Steph heard unmistakable relief in his voice. He turned to her and patted her hand. “Thank you for your time.”

“Sure.” Steph gritted her teeth and wanted to scream. When Goddess had been hurt Duncan had known about it and now his comment about Sam… Steph tried to sort out exactly how they were involved.

Further to the front of the plane, Cheyenne focused on Phillip intently, attempting to shut out everything else and finish strong.

“My father runs a bookstore and my mother owns several businesses including that bookstore. She’s the authority in our household. My father was the creative one. He is an avid theater enthusiast. I suppose my creative side comes from him.”

“When did you start singing?”

“As a child, in church.” Cheyenne smirked and Phillip covered a grin. “Yes, I was a choir boy. I know, it’s embarrassing. I was fortunate that my parents love popular music and I grew up with great influences.”

“Such as…”

“Everyone. The Stones, Bowie, Wilson Pickett, to name a few. You don’t know how hard I tried to make my voice sound like Joe Cocker! Mum and Dad had an incredible record collection. I didn’t realize how unusual this was until I started talking to my peers. It was amazing who my friends hadn’t heard of. Then when I went to University and met real musicians… I dove into the scene head first.”

“And Fury was born?”

“Scot was ridiculously talented, but he needed a shove. When he and I decided to form a band, my girlfriend at the time worked with Bret’s wife Sarah. Talk about fate! Then we put an ad in the paper and found David. Nathan came along last—that was a fluke.”

“Scot said you were in a poetry class.” Phillip smirked and covered his face with his hands.

“I should have known that would come back to haunt me. Yes, I was. I did learn a lot, though.”

“So what is your writing process? Where do you lyrics come from?” Cheyenne asked.

“I don’t follow a pattern when I write. I’m very unorganized. Bret always reins me in…” Phillip trailed off. “I suppose that is coming to a swift end.”

“What do you mean?”

“Off the record?” Cheyenne nodded.

“Bret’s leaving after the European tour. He broke the news last night.”

Cheyenne blinked in surprise. Phillip shrugged.

“About your lyrics, you were saying…?”

“I just have a certain method to my madness when I write, I suppose.”

“And what would that method be?”

“Sadly I’m afraid that only I have the twisted logic to understand it.”

“One more question. What made you get on board with the publicity black out? One would think it seems counter intuitive.”

Phillip paled visibly.

Cheyenne cocked her head sideways, waiting for his response.

“Not all attention we’ve had has been positive.” He looked very uneasy.

“Care to elaborate?”

“Not on the record.”

Cheyenne shut off the tape recorder.

“Thanks, Philip, you gave me a great deal to work with. You have already got an amazing following and your fans hardly know anything about you. My article will deliver the personalities to go with the faces they have on their walls. Colorful personalities, to say the least.” Cheyenne stood.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Phillip also stood. “Cheyenne about this stupid wager with Nathan, I was wrong to be a part of it.”

“What wager?” Cheyenne asked with a sinking feeling. She tried to keep her tone cool.

“Cheyenne…I am really sorry.” Phillip’s eyes shifted nervously. “Nathan bet me he would sleep with you and I bet him you wouldn’t. I told him to shove the money up his arse.”

Cheyenne face burned and her heart pounded wildly. She took a very deep breath to try to calm down and looked in Nathan’s direction. He was laughing at something David was saying to him. His merriment drove her over the edge. She strode to him and slapped him across the face with such force she felt like she’d broken a finger. The look of shock he wore didn’t please her the way she thought it would. She was vaguely aware of someone’s arms around her, dragging her backward and the general sounds of alarm in the voices around her. Her heart was thudding so loud in her ears she couldn’t hear what was being said. Slowly she regained her hearing.

“Cheyenne, what the hell?” she heard Steph ask from behind her.

“Ms. Carson, get ahold of yourself or I’ll have you removed.” Ian voice was stern, but alarmed.

“Leave her alone Ian,” Phillip retorted. Cheyenne realized when he spoke that he was the one who held her back from Nathan.

“Keep that whore away from me!” Nathan held the right side of his face. David tried to inspect Nathan’s injuries.

“Let go of her, Phillip!” Steph cried, yanking Cheyenne away from him. Steph’s hands were on her shoulders and she stared her in the eyes. “Cheyenne. What happened?”

“They made a bet about me…” Cheyenne murmured. Her voice sounded like a small child’s to her own ears. Light dawned in Steph’s eyes. Suddenly Steph was after Nathan, but David was guarding him.

“You conniving, manipulating, son of a…!” she shouted in his general direction.

Duncan grabbed Steph, obviously copping a feel in the process.

“I told you never to touch me again!” Steph shrieked and clawed at him. Duncan laughed at her, restraining her as if she were a child having a temper tantrum. Suddenly Phillip grasped Duncan by the hair and flung him across the cabin. He bent a table as he landed on the floor. Steph fell in the aisle in the process. Shock gave way to fear and as Cheyenne watched the violence, she was light headed and nauseous.

“Don’t you bloody touch her!” Phillip’s voice sounded deadly as he pointed a menacing finger at the roadie, who seemed dazed.

“That’s enough!” Ian commanded. He reached out to take Cheyenne’s arm.

“Bugger off, Ian!” Scot raved. He was at Cheyenne’s side, stepping between them.

“Duncan, Richard. I suggest you to take these two ladies to the back of the plane for the rest of the flight.” Ian ordered, without acknowledging Scot’s presence. Phillip and Scot both glowered at him.

“You’re done making suggestions.” Scot’s face was hard. Duncan picked himself up off the cabin floor.

“Duncan…Fucking touch her. I dare you.” Phillip delivered the threat without looking away from Ian.

“Alright. Everyone take a breath.” Bret insinuated himself into the fray and placed himself between Ian and the others. “Ian, I think it might be wise for you and Nathan to go to the front of the plane with the roadies. David, can you please escort the girls to the back of the plane so we can have a quick meeting here.”

Bret’s calm presence and Welsh accent somehow broke through the tension. Bret’s level headed tone and strong presence made it easy for Cheyenne to envision him as a dad. She followed Steph and David to the back of the plane and collapsed on the couch style seat.

“The pilot says everyone needs to calm down, we are headed for some turbulence!” The flight attendant announced at the top of her lungs. She looked pale.

Steph was suddenly at Cheyenne’s side, kneeling on both knees.

“Who made the bet with Nathan?”

“Seatbelt sign, Steph!” Phillip called back to them. Steph glared at him and turned back to Cheyenne. She could tell by Steph’s disappointed expression she already suspected the answer.

“Phillip. He apologized…”

Steph looked like she wanted to cry. They sat in silence, and then Steph got up and went into the restroom. Cheyenne closed her eyes. Shocked at her own actions, she felt sick. She’d never struck another human being before.

“Here you go, Love. Have a drink. It’ll help.” Opening her eyes, she saw Scot standing over her with a bottle of water.

“That’s not the kind of drink I’m looking for.” The joke sounded hollow even to her ears.

“Cheyenne…they both feel like assholes about the entire thing. Neither of them knew you at the time, and this kind of garbage is Nathan’s M.O. He liked you and he’s a bored, lonely idiot. It doesn’t excuse it.” He shrugged.

“It just took me by surprise.” Scot’s deep voice soothed her. Cheyenne felt numb. She wondered if she had a neon sign over her head that said, “Treat me like a piece of ass”.

“I confronted them both the day you told me about Nathan. It wasn’t pretty.”

“I can tell by Nathan’s eye.” Guilt gripped Cheyenne for causing them to brawl. She knew she needed to take responsibility for the role she’d played in their little triangle.

Steph came out of the restroom and looked at the two of them. She went to the other side of the aisle, fastened her seat belt and wrapped a blanket around herself. Her face appeared blotchy, like she’d been crying.

“Should I go talk to Stephanie?” Scot leaned down to stroke Cheyenne’s cheek.

For the first time since she’d turned him away, she allowed herself to really look at Scot. Flash backs of their time together consumed her and she felt all of the walls she’d built drop like a house of cards. Her inability to open up to Scot filled her with regret. As she realized she was out of moves, panic set in.

“No. I’ll go.” Cheyenne sat up, but saw Phillip swiftly take the seat next to Steph. Cheyenne relaxed back in her seat and watched Steph apprehensively. Scot settled into the seat next to her and put his arm around her.

“You’re shivering. Would you care for a blanket?”

She relaxed into him and felt warmth spread over her entire body.

“I’m fine. Scot…I didn’t sleep with Nathan.”

“I know. He told me. I’m glad.”

Cheyenne felt his arms cuddle her protectively. Tears stung her eyes. Knowing that this could be the last time he held her, she tried to savor the moment.

Steph was still shaking with fear and rage when Phillip took the seat next to her.

“If Duncan so much as looks your direction again, say the word and I’ll end him.” Phillip eyes were hard as stone.

Steph’s voice was quiet as she shook her head. “She didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

“I didn’t know her and I didn’t know you.”

Steph rubbed her temples.

“How could you kiss Kevin Wiley, honestly?’ He looked away.

“He kissed me. We’ve been over for a long time. He just doesn’t seem to get it.”

“Oh.” Phillip’s hand was on her cheek and when she looked at him he seemed weighted down with regret.

“Steph, I was a fool. I apologized to Cheyenne because I wanted to start fresh. I thought she already knew.” He looked positively sick as he spoke. Steph considered his response.

They both sat in silence. Steph stared out the window pondering their situation. Trying to reconcile his behavior was not an easy task. Cheyenne had become the sister she’d never had and Steph’s loyalty to her was fierce. Phillip’s callous behavior wasn’t something she was willing to brush aside. Blown away by his duality, Steph swallowed nervously as the lump in her throat grew. Was he bipolar or what? She wasn’t sure which side of Phillip was real; was he her protector and the man his grandparents worshiped, or was he the pompous chauvinist who broke her camera and disrespected her friend? She pulled the blanket more tightly around her.

Cheyenne and Scot joined them, sitting in the leather seats across from them.

“I cannot tell you how sorry I am, Cheyenne. If you want to slap me too, go for it.”

Phillip leaned forward and Cheyenne shook her head. Steph couldn’t believe that Cheyenne had regained her composure so quickly.

“So tell me, what was Nathan’s conquest of Cheyenne worth?” Steph turned suddenly to Phillip.

He sat back and looked at the floor. Cheyenne looked uncomfortable and Scot blinked, looking surprised.

No one said a word.

“I can’t believe Nathan is such an unbelievable bastard …”

Stephanie felt wounded at Nathan’s betrayal. She had started to consider him a friend and knew she was lashing out. She looked up at the others. “Sorry, I know I’m not helping.”

“He’s just an overgrown child.” Phillip took her trembling hand and brought it to his lips. The regretful look on his face momentarily pacified her.

Aware Scot and Cheyenne were eyeing them, she pulled her hand away. Her desire to be alone to reflect on the past two days was overwhelming.

“Ian is going to have a heart attack when he realizes the two of you are...together,” Scot commented, looking from Steph to Phillip, his expression approving and amused. Cheyenne smiled slyly, seeming to enjoy the idea.

Not responding, Steph looked out the window. She wasn’t sure Ian had much to worry about, but said nothing. There had been enough fighting on the jet for one day.

Once the plane landed in Rome, Cheyenne and Scot climbed into a limo with Bret and David. Both men were sympathetic and expressed their apologies to Cheyenne about their fellow band member’s conduct. She was more preoccupied and concerned for Steph and Phillip than worried about herself, and she wondered how their ride would fair with Ian, Nathan, and the roadies. She distracted herself by making arrangements to meet with Bret in his suite the following morning.

“Look.” David’s serious expression as he spoke to Scot caught Cheyenne off guard. He looked exasperated. “Bret and I have called a meeting tonight in the Petronius Suite. We have to clear the air and a discussion needs to happen before we can move forward with things.”

“Brilliant.” Scot replied.

“Just Fury and management,” Bret added, his gaze shifting to her. “No offense, Cheyenne.”

“None taken.” Regret overpowered Cheyenne and yet she was relieved. It was no surprise that there had been no dance party during the limo ride.

Arriving at the hotel seemed to take only minutes as Cheyenne gazed out at the sights of Rome. It was dinner time, but there was plenty of summer daylight to admire the dazzling architecture of the ancient city. Their hotel, Rome Cavalieri, astounded Cheyenne. Enclosed on its own huge expanses of parklands, the art collection alone had her reeling as Scot checked them in. She was relieved to see Phillip and Stephanie, who appeared to be in one piece, arrive at the front desk.

“How was your ride?”

“I rode in front with the driver. I called Goddess and thankfully she is mailing all of her pictures to The Sound Wave.” Steph yawned. “I’m so tired. Psychotic anger takes a lot out of me.”

“I’m sick of flying,” Cheyenne complained. In her heightened state of alertness, she noticed Phillip was watching Steph’s every move.

Me too. It seems Goddess had the foresight to cancel her room. Here’s your key. We’re on the same floor, but that’s as close as they could get us. I have some film to develop and then I’m going to bed. When do you interview Bret?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“You are going to the concert with me tomorrow night. I want more stage shots and I want a witness if Duncan murders me. You and I are taking a week off before we head back.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea? Your Dad is already on a rampage.”

“We had three more cities on our original itinerary and we’ve already got a shitload done. We need some downtime.”

As Cheyenne prepared for bed that night, she worried for Fury’s future. Over the course of the tour, she’d become fond of all of the members of the band. The thought of them having serious issues due to her actions petrified her. She worried for her career; however, she genuinely loved their music and wanted good things for them. Bret’s departure would have a ripple effect that they may not overcome, but Cheyenne wanted to be sure that she didn’t leave her own scar.

She had an epiphany and decided that she would bow out gracefully. After Bret’s interview they were checking out.

Cheyenne texted Steph, who immediately agreed, then called the front desk and to make arrangements to check out the following day.

After tossing and turning for an hour, she climbed out of bed and lit a cigarette. She surveyed the view of Rome and couldn’t get Scot out of her mind. Knowing that she would cave if she was alone with him again, she resigned herself to keep her distance until The Sound Wave and Fury parted ways.

Scot tapped his hands on the table anxiously as Fury and Ian sat in silence. A banquet sat before them but only Bret partook.

After five minutes of listening to Bret chew, Scot cleared his throat and began to speak.

“I’m sorry that I have caused such turmoil for everyone, but I fail to see why everyone was so invested in who I choose to spend my free time with. I missed the memo that only David and Bret get to have a private life.”

“First of all, that’s not fair. And that’s not what this is about,” David replied. His expression declared he was not to be trifled with. Nathan lit a cigarette and Bret dropped his food onto his plate, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“This is about getting back on track. We need to focus. This is more than a business; we’re a family and we need to clear the air.”

“Family? That’s big talk from someone who’s bailing in a few weeks.” Phillip crossed his arms.

“Touché.” Bret shrugged and picked up his plate.

“Can you stop eating for a moment? I can’t hear myself think.” Nathan scowled, his bruised and battered face contorted in disgust.

“Ok, Quasimodo. We need to get you a Phantom Of The Opera mask for the concert so we don’t scare the fans.”

“Up yours.” Nathan flipped him off.

Bret stopped chomping on his food and stuck his covered tongue out at Nathan.

“You’re so immature.” Nathan looked daggers at Bret.

“Really?” Scot fixed Nathan with an incredulous stare.

“Ladies, please. You called this meeting,” Ian interjected. Scot watched as Ian made a valiant attempt to reclaim control. “I think we can all agree that Fury can’t afford any more situations like that plane ride.”

“I don’t think Nathan can handle anymore facial disfigurement,” David remarked.

“Nathan needs to learn there are consequences for his actions,” Ian conceded. “We all know how we got here. What we need to decide is how to move forward.”

Everyone seemed to contemplate Ian’s remark. Finally, Scot spoke.

“For a long time now I have been struggling to understand your strategy for us. We agreed it was time to step into the limelight. This is just a taste of what’s to come. If you can’t handle the complications involved with our newfound freedom perhaps you should move on and find some new blokes to hide away from the world.”

“When I went to The Sound Wave, I was honoring your wishes.” Ian turned to Nathan earnestly. “To be frank, from the very first encounter with Ms. Brier and Ms. Carson, I had reservations.”

“That might have been the time to address your concerns.” Nathan’s face was somber.

“I have to agree with Nathan on this one. If there were red flags, you should have made an executive decision then and there,” Scot chimed in.

“You think it’s easy to do my job and please five other people simultaneously?”

“Somehow I managed to do it before you came along.” Scot’s tone was bitter.

“Let’s be fair. Ian’s played a huge role in making us who we are today. We were still playing in dives and changing in the loo when you were managing us.” Phillip sighed. Scot shot him an unhappy look and Phillip shrugged apologetically..

“And yet somehow we managed to get a record contract without him.” Scot pushed away from the table and crossed to the bar. With every passing minute he was becoming more agitated. He scanned the booze and selected a bottle.

“We are the reason we are successful. All this fucking drama needs to ends now.” David was on his feet.

“Here here,” Bret chimed in.

“You’re so fired up about us keeping out of your private life. It’s only fair to ask you to keep your private life out of band business. No one in this band is to ever lay hands on anyone else again. And Nathan, I’ve had enough of your Machiavellian schemes. Get a new hobby.”

Scot was astonished at David’s demeanor. No one argued with any of his points.

Cheyenne watched the sun rise over the eternal city. She’d fitfully slept for a couple of hours and finally gave up. She took a long bath and did her best to prepare for her final interview. Knowing that Fury was sharing a suite, she hoped to avoid an encounter with Scot. Thankfully, Bret was alone when he let her in. He noticed Cheyenne scan the room and waved a dismissive hand.

“It’s just us. They went to breakfast. Are you ready?” Bret’s casual vibe put Cheyenne at ease. Cheyenne decided early on that Bret was the least pretentious member of Fury and a real straight shooter.

“Yes, let’s get this done.” Cheyenne sighed. “Nothing personal.”

“Alright then.” Bret laughed. As Cheyenne arranged her computer, Bret fidgeted.

“Nervous?” Cheyenne asked.

“A little. I’m quite afraid of making an ass out of myself.” Bret laughed.

“Don’t be. If you say something you don’t want printed just let me know and I’ll omit it.”

Bret nodded and looked relieved. Cheyenne pressed record and began.

“By now I’ve heard everyone else’s take on Fury’s beginning. What do you think I should know?’

“I was playing in a blues band and a lot of our gigs were in University towns. I met Sarah, who is now my lovely wife, at a club in Cambridge. She was waitressing. We double dated with her roommate and Phillip. He and I started talking shop and we just meshed. He was forming a band and I wanted in.”

“Did you find it a hard genre transition going from blues to…Fury.”

“It was a welcome change. We played a lot of blues standards and I was looking to write my own tunes.”

They continued for some time, discussing the bands dynamic and the early years.

“I notice you don’t travel with Sarah.”

“It was impossible once Max came along. We both agreed that the road is no place for a kid. He needs a stable home and a routine.”

“And I understand there’s another Williams on the way.”

“Yep. We just found out last month. She’s hoping for a girl, of course.” He smiled and it touched Cheyenne at how Bret’s face lit up as he discussed his family. As she bid him farewell and climbed on the elevator her eyes were misty. She was happy to be wrapping up, but knew she would miss them all.

She felt a huge weight lift from her as she entered the lobby with her luggage.

“Is it over?” Steph looked up from her phone. Her luggage surrounding her like a fort, she looked as if she’d been in the lobby for some time.

“Yes.” Cheyenne’s relief was monumental.

Steph stood and waved to a nearby porter. As Cheyenne approached the exit with Stephanie trailing behind, a man accompanied by a tall, blonde woman approached her. They both wore sunglasses and business suits. The odd couple immediately caught Cheyenne’s attention but she was unprepared when they stopped her in her path. The woman pulled off her sunglasses and Cheyenne gaped at her, realizing it was Goddess. She was transformed into a surprisingly beautiful woman without the crazy hair, make-up and dumpy clothes.

“Where’s Steph?” Goddess questioned.

“I’m right here.” Steph replied looking up from her phone. “Goddess?”

“We need you to come outside now,” the man said flashing a badge which Cheyenne could not read before it disappeared back into his jacket pocket.

“Excuse me?”

“Outside. Now,” Goddess ordered. Without further hesitation, Cheyenne and Steph did as she asked. The scene unfolding outside reminded Cheyenne of an action film. Dark sedans blocked traffic as far as the eye could see.

Moments later, dozens of men rushed through the entrance with guns drawn.

“What the hell is going on?” Awestruck, Cheyenne shifted her gaze to Goddess.

“Margaret Goddard, FBI.” She flashed her badge. “We’ve been watching Ian and his business associates for a long time. We’ve finally collected enough evidence to bring them in. I need you to go with my partner now. I’ll be joining you soon.”

“Where the hell are you taking us? What are you arresting them for?” Stephanie demanded.

“Using Fury’s tour as a front to traffic drugs. I was sent in to verify that the band members knew nothing about their illegal activities.”

“A drug ring!” Steph exclaimed as they were ushered to an unmarked car.

As the driver pulled away from the curb, Cheyenne was dazed as she contemplated what the future held for Fury. Could they survive Bret leaving and the scandal that was erupting around them?

Cheyenne sat alone in the interrogation room waiting to be released. Feeling exhausted, she pondered what little details “Agent Goddard’ had provided. She’d been informed during the “debriefing” that Adam Brier had been in on their investigation since the beginning and had known all along that Margaret was an agent. Refusing to tell her much more, Margaret informed her she’d see them in the states soon. Feeling sorry for Fury who, she presumed, would have to cancel their European shows, she lit a cigarette. Leaning back in her chair, she looked at her reflection in the two way mirror and wondered if Scot was in the same building. Margaret, a.k.a Goddess, opened the door. Steph stood in the hall behind her, talking on her cell phone.

“Hey. We’ve got everything we need. You two are free to go.” She smiled.

“Goddess…I mean Margaret, sorry. I just want to say I feel bad that we treated you the way we did.”

Margaret shrugged.

“It was my job to make you not want to be around me. I was a pain in the ass. Hell, I would have ditched me.” She gave Cheyenne a wry smile. Cheyenne uttered a surprised laugh as Margaret walked away gracefully.

“Does she have legs or what?” Steph asked as she ended her call.

“I was just thinking the exact same thing.”

“Ready to get out of here?”

“Hell yes.”

Margaret had seen to it that they had an escort to their new hotel which was charming and refreshingly simple. Over room service, Cheyenne confessed what she’d known about Goddess and Adam’s subterfuge. Steph confided her suspicions that either Duncan or Richard had pushed Sam. They continued to puzzle over the details of the drug ring, the murder, and Goddess’s actions over the course of the tour. Exhausted and overwhelmed, they slept late into the following morning.

Cedric met them in the lobby at noon. Though Cheyenne had seen pictures and talked to him on Skype, she was struck by how attractive he was and understood why Steph teasingly called him “Father What-a-waste”. Short of the cane he needed to get around, his appearance was preternatural. As they devoured pasta at an outdoor café, Cheyenne was amused as women of all ages seemed taken with him. Small in stature like the other Briers, he had auburn hair and pale eyes like Steph. It was eerie how physically alike they were in mannerisms and speech patterns. As they dined, Steph regaled Cedric with highlights of their recent trials and tribulations. She made no attempt to curb her language or leave out many details. Embarrassed and appalled, Cheyenne’s nervously eyed Cedric’s collar.

“Fear not, Cheyenne. I’ve known this abomination her entire life. Nothing that comes out of her mouth surprises me anymore.”

“Oh.” Steph ignored the comment and riffled through her handbag. “I brought you something.”

She placed the ring box in front of her brother.

“It’s a donation from Kevin. I heard he came to visit you. I’m so sorry.”

“I’d love to hear your opinion of Kevin.” Cheyenne interjected as she studied Cedric, waiting for his serene façade to disintegrate. He smirked and rolled his eyes as he opened the ring box.

“Let’s just say I am very relieved to see this atrocity still in the box. Do the right thing for once in your miserable life and give it back.” Cheyenne smiled and felt much more at ease to see that though he was a priest, he wasn’t a saint.

Fine. I’m shipping it back to dad so I don’t have a cavity search at the airport.” Steph left abruptly, muttering swearwords.

“You must have the patience of Job to work with both my sister and my father. Now you see why I live on the other side of the world.”

Cheyenne uttered a surprised giggle at his candor.

“How on God’s earth does a lady of your caliber put up with that mouth 24 hours a day?”

“If you only knew what caliber of lady I actually am, you’d probably drown me in Holy water.”

“I’m sure I have heard worse in confession today alone.”

Cheyenne laughed nervously thinking about her recent exploits. “Not only am I going straight to hell, I’ve got a first class ticket and a penthouse suite overlooking the lake of fire.”

Cedric had just taken a mouthful of wine and spit his drink everywhere in a fit of laughter. Cheyenne laughed with him as she blotted her shirt with a napkin. Surrounding patrons eyed them suspiciously as they spent several minutes trying to regain their composure.

“Oh, Cheyenne. I’m so sorry. I think I’ve ruined your shirt.”

“I’ll consider it a blessing.” He was rocked with laughter again.

“I haven’t laughed that much in a very long time.” He sighed and held his side.

“Me either.”

“All kidding aside, how are you coping? From the sound of things, you’ve painted yourself into a bit of a corner.”

“Yes, I have.”

“And Scot?” His stunning eyes seemed to search hers.

“What about him?” She swirled her wine, took a drink, and nervously cleared her throat.

“My curiosity is peaked. Is that how your story ends?”

Instinctively, Cheyenne replayed all the moments she’d shared with Scot from the first moment they locked eyes on his terrace in London to his soothing embrace on the flight to Rome. Overcome with grief, she burst into tears. Cedric looked startled and fumbled around in his pocket, producing a handkerchief.

“It has to be the end, Cedric,” Cheyenne sobbed.

“Clearly.”

His sarcasm doused the embers of emotion before they had a chance to fan into a flame. Cheyenne stopped sobbing almost as suddenly as she started. She blew her nose and smiled at him.

“Ah. You are a Brier.”

Cedric smiled and handed her another handkerchief.

“How many of these do you carry? I feel like I’m in a magic act.”

“Confession, remember?”

She took several moments to compose herself.

“It’s evident your feelings for Scot are more than sexual.”

Cheyenne remembered who she was talking to and blushed. He rolled his eyes as he seemed to read her mind.

“Please, Cheyenne. I wasn’t born a priest. I was in love once …a long time ago.”

“Are you two ready to go? I’ve decided where I want go first.”

Cheyenne turned to see Steph struggling to fold a map. Doing a double take at Cheyenne, she glared at her brother.

“Have you been working your voodoo on her? We don’t have time for the amount of Hail Mary’s she’d need to say. Can we just go to the Coliseum?”

Cheyenne and Cedric erupted into another fit of laughter. Steph raised an eyebrow.

“How much wine did you guys drink?’

Five minutes later as they climbed into a cab, their laughter showed no signs of waning.

As Steph had proposed, they spent the following five days in Italy as tourists. Cedric accompanied them for the first three. His remarkable presence soothed Cheyenne’s frayed nerves and she was endlessly amused by Steph interactions with him. Though surprisingly accepting of his baby sister’s caustic behavior, a simple cross glance from him could stop her dead in her tracks. Never had two such different people coexisted, let alone had such obvious love for one another.

As they said their farewells, tears streamed down Steph’s face as she cussed him out and demanded he come home for good.

As Cheyenne went to shake his hand, Cedric pulled her in for a farewell embrace.

“There is a great deal of ugliness in this world, and there’s beauty hiding in plain sight. Don’t be afraid to grasp happiness when it’s dangled in front of you.” He kissed her tenderly on the forehead and hobbled away. As Cheyenne watched him disappear into the crowd, sorrow gripped her soul. Deep down inside, she knew that what she and Scot shared in their short time together was extraordinary and that she’d probably never find anything like it again.

She caught up with Steph boarding the train. Cheyenne grasped her hand to get her attention. “Your brother…he’s enchanting.”

“I know.” Steph’s sorrow was blatant.

After a 5 hour train ride north, they spent their final two days in Venice. Steph had a photographic field day, but Cheyenne found the city so heartbreakingly beautiful that she couldn’t enjoy it. She imagined how romantic it would be to ride the gondolas with Scot at her side and her chest ached. Conceding that Cedric’s instincts were accurate, she understood her altruistic act of walking away from Scot was fallacious. The misgivings she had were no longer directed at Scot. There was work to be done, and it was work on her damaged self.

On the plane ride home she was reticent and withdrawn. Upon landing at O’Hare, they mutely claimed their bags and, as they walked through the terminal, Cheyenne felt like she’d aged a hundred years.

“I would kiss the ground right here and now if I didn’t think I would get Hepatitis,” Steph deadpanned.

Gerald was waiting to retrieve them and Cheyenne thought he looked prettier than she and Steph combined.

“Girlfriends!” His little dance had Cheyenne grinning.

“Ger Bear!” Steph was hugging him.

“So what’s it like to make out with David Evans! Spill it, Spill it, Girl,” he called.

Steph pantomimed strangling Gerald.

“I missed you, you raving Queen,” she mumbled.

“I missed you too.” Gerald looked at Cheyenne and raised his eyebrows excitedly.

“No offense, y’all but you could both use some beauty sleep.” His perfect black features took in their disheveled appearance disapprovingly. “Come on, the car is waiting.”

They walked to the limo, and left the luggage to the driver. As they climbed in, Gerald admired his reflection in the window and sucked in his cheeks.

“A limo? Seriously?” Steph shot Gerald a sardonic side glance.

“I figured you two would be so spoiled it might take a little reconditioning before you can acclimate to society.”

“Hardy-har-har,” Steph murmured sarcastically.

“I know you’re both exhausted but your father wanted me to tell you that there will be a meeting tomorrow afternoon; Agent Goddard will be present. He said you’d both have a lot of questions.” Gerald folded his hands in his lap.

“You could say that.” The prospect of Adam’s revelation gave Cheyenne an unexpected second wind.

“We’re here, Sir,” the driver announced.

They all got out of the car and the doorman grabbed their luggage.

“I’ll see you both tomorrow.” Gerald climbed back into the limo.

After entering their apartment and ditching their luggage, Cheyenne entered the kitchen.

“You hungry?” Cheyenne looked through the refrigerator.

“I guess,” Steph called from the sofa.

“Do you want Chinese?” Cheyenne proposed, seeing that everything in the refrigerator was past its expiration date. The only exception was two bottles of beer.

“Sure.”

Cheyenne picked up her cell phone and ordered a Chinese feast of their favorite dishes and a 6 pack of beer. Grabbing the two remaining beers, she plopped on the couch next to Steph and handed her one.

“Do you feel like you just woke up from a nightmare?” Steph asked.

“Yep.” Cheyenne lit a cigarette.

“Did all of that really happen?” Steph rubbed her eyes.

“Unfortunately, yes. I'm sorry for being such a stupid bitch.” Steph grinned then giggled like a lunatic; Cheyenne wondered if Steph had lost it.

“How can I judge you when I did the same thing?”

They both paused, picking at the labels on the beer bottles. Silence hung between them like a thick blanket of fog.

“When you had your little talk with Scot, what exactly did he say about me?” Cheyenne had debated all the way across the Atlantic about whether she wanted to ask Steph this question. Fretting that she’d never see Scot again and realizing that Steph no longer judged her, the words spilled out of her mouth.

Steph looked at her then at the floor, exhaling a ragged breath. “Do I really need to answer that question?”

“Yes.” Cheyenne grasped at the knowledge, in hopes that hearing his words could somehow keep her connected to him. She realized she’d been twisting her sapphire ring and ached for her mother’s advice.

Cheyenne felt Steph watching her. When she glanced over to meet her friend’s gaze, the empathy she saw on Steph’s face was enough to make her throat close, and she found herself sniffling.

“He asked me if I believed in love at first sight.” As the weight of her words came down upon her, Cheyenne’s heart seized in her chest and she struggled to hold back the tears. She knew once the floodgates opened, she’d never be able to stop.

“Life lesson learned?” Steph’s lip quivered and put her arm around Cheyenne.

She nodded in reply, choking back her pain.

“I’m going to get help.”

Steph acknowledged Cheyenne’s announcement with a nod.

“In the meantime, we have a lot of work to do.” Steph stood and walked to her bags. She began unpacking her equipment.

When the doorbell rang, Cheyenne paid for the food and returned to her spot on the couch.

Cheyenne laughed as Steph held up one of her pictures of the band for her approval. “Is that the one that Goddess took when she was passed out on the floor?”

Steph nodded enthusiastically.

“It blows my mind that it was all an act!” They spent the rest of the evening guzzling beer and laughing as they recapped Goddess’s antics.

“Wake up you forgot to set your alarm.” Cheyenne shook Steph.

“Are we home yet?”

“Duh! Come on, get up. Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”

Cheyenne went into the bathroom to apply her makeup. She dug for her compact she felt something out of place. She frowned and pulled out a photo. It was a picture of her and Scot together on their date. It dawned on her that Margaret must have slipped it into her bag.

Steph entered the bathroom. “What’s wrong?”

Cheyenne handed her the picture.

“It’s going to work out the way it was meant to...”

“I’m so stupid.” Tears began to steadily stream down her face.

“No you’re not. You’re just…troubled. Besides, his life is a total zoo. And being with a celebrity is more complicated than being with other men. Now stop that shit before you make me cry!” Steph’s expression was hard as she handed Cheyenne some tissues.

Cheyenne blew her nose and wiped the tears away. “What am I going to do?”

“Get the story done. As Ian would say, ‘the show must go on’.” Steph’s face clouded over. “Cheyenne, I really think you need to get help like you said you would last night. You need to take care of you.”

Cheyenne nodded and once again began applying her makeup. Once Steph left to take her shower, she picked up the picture again and touched Scot’s face before placing it back in the bag.

Pull yourself together girl.

Once at The Sound Wave , they walked past a sea of gawking staff to Adam’s office. As always, they had to sit outside and wait.

“Cheyenne, Stephanie. How was your flight?” A familiar figure strutted down the hallway toward them. Margaret took off her sunglasses with flourish, a move that totally made her look like a FED. She took a seat across from them. “Jetlag is kicking my ass today.”

“We survived.” Cheyenne crossed her arms. She and Steph stared at Margaret.

“What?’ Margaret asked as a wraith of a smile tugged at her lips.

“You just look so normal and sound so articulate.” Steph grinned at her.

“You two were awesome. You helped so much by distracting Fury. It made my job a lot easier.”

“Gee thanks,” Cheyenne mumbled, smiling.

“Everyone, please come in,” Adam greeted them as he opened through the door.

They entered the office.

“Did you get some sleep?’ Adam asked, greeting Steph with a kiss and a huge hug.

“We tried. The curiosity is killing us, so can we just cut to the chase? No offense.” Steph’s attempt to be sociable to the agent nearly made Cheyenne guffaw, but she bit the inside of her lip.

“Alright, Bonnie.” Adam gestured to Margaret. “Would you care to explain?”

“Sure.” She turned to Cheyenne and Steph. “Interpol had been tracking Ian for months and though we had an inside man, we couldn’t get close enough to the band to assess their level of involvement. When the agency heard Ian was coming to Adam for the ‘coming out’ interview, it was decided that someone should go undercover as a Sound Wave staff member. I was chosen to masquerade as an intern because I had a background in crime scene photography. We contacted Adam and he agreed to help out.”

“So you put us in danger just to get a story.” Steph’s looked aghast as she blinked at her father.

“I can assure you that you were both safe,” Margaret said. “No one got into your rooms without my approval, and you were followed continuously.”

This made both Cheyenne and Steph flush a rosy color.

“I bugged your rooms and you always had a microphone on you somewhere.”

“You bugged us?” Cheyenne wanted to die, she was so embarrassed.

“Yes. Fear not. We only used what was relevant.” Margaret shifted in her seat a little.

Cheyenne put her hands on her face.

“If someone followed us all the time, why did Phillip and I get stuck in the middle of nowhere?” Steph looked thoughtful.

“You left your phone at the hotel, so it took us a bit to track you down. Do you remember the tow truck driver? He's one of us.”

Steph looked away, flabbergasted.

“Was the assignment real?” Cheyenne tried not to look as wounded as she felt.

“Oh yes. The assignment was very real, and I can’t wait to read your material,” Adam replied crossing his arms. “As a matter of fact I was just on the phone with Mark Smith, the new manager of Fury.”

“Wait who?” Steph asked.

“Mark Smith,” Adam repeated.

“Wasn’t he the accountant?” Cheyenne looked at Steph, confused.

“Actually...” Margaret began, “he was the whistle blower.”

“As I was saying, I spoke to Mark this morning and he said the concerts were going on according to plan. Fury will be in New York in three weeks to attend the anniversary party and celebrate the launch of the tour,” Adam continued.

“Three weeks! I thought we had a little more time.” Cheyenne gasped.

“The date has been upped.” Adam shrugged.

Steph growled out loud.

“Don’t worry. I have all kinds of help lined up for you both.”

Cheyenne’s stomach did a nervous flip. Awareness surged in her and she felt her heart race as she imagined being face to face with Scot again.

“Ok, back to Ian,” Steph inquired turning back to Margaret.

“He was using Fury as a distraction and was actually facilitating Rodney and Steve’s multimillion dollar drug business behind the scenes. His job was to keep the band occupied while Steve and Rodney transported and arranged distribution of cocaine and heroin. They used the band’s tour equipment to conceal the drugs from customs. His biggest downfall was hiring idiots for his henchmen and trying to involve Mark Smith, the label’s accountant. Mark immediately contacted the authorities and has been assisting the task force all along. It was very important to Mr. Smith that the band be protected. He was told by Ian from the beginning that they knew nothing about what was happening and he wanted to make sure we had a clear case that separated the innocent from the guilty. Again, this is where I came in. I got in with Duncan and his minions, who were responsible for keeping the rest of the road crew, and the band, from discovering the conspiracy. We ended up getting the evidence to convict them and clear the innocent bystanders. After Fury was informed of Mr. Smith’s involvement, they chose him as their new manager.

“What about your bruises and cuts?” Cheyenne sat stunned. It was almost embarrassing that she hadn’t solved this puzzle, but with the Scot and Nathan situation distracting her, it wasn’t any wonder.

“I had to climb down two stories after bugging Ian’s room. I slipped and caught a rail to the temple…”

“And the man running from your room…?” Steph inquired.

“That was Duncan trying to get a little too friendly. He wasn’t expecting what he got in return.” Cheyenne watched a gleeful smile creep across Steph’s face.

“And that’s all I’ve got,” Margaret concluded, standing. “Have fun at the party in New York.” She shook hands with all three of them and left.

The moment she was gone Steph jumped up.

“Are you crazy, putting us in that situation? Do you realize someone was killed?” Steph gestured emphatically.

Cheyenne eyeballed Steph, then Adam. She was floored by Steph’s emotional outburst.

“Yes, Lass, I know. But I knew you’d be safe. There were agents everywhere—in cars, on planes, working in the hotels…you were watched constantly. It was no mistake that I sent Cheyenne along. I hoped she would rein you in and keep you from causing an international incident.” Adam was on his feet. His rosy cheeks and flashing eyes were so like his daughters it was remarkable. He loosened his tie with a huff. “Don’t you think I was scared and worried about you?”

He walked to the cabinet and poured himself a whiskey,

“We could each use one of those,” Cheyenne said.

Adam looked at her, smiled, and poured them each a drink.

The next two weeks were a flurry of activity: they pulled some arduous all-nighters, but with help they managed to get the material to press on time. Once again Cheyenne and Steph found themselves sitting outside Adam’s office waiting.

“Are you feeling any better?” Steph asked Cheyenne, who’d been sleeping more than usual and feeling very fatigued.

“Not really, I think I have the stomach flu.”

“That sucks.”

“My period is a mess too. I think it’s just all the stress.”

Steph graced her with a sideways glance. “What about your period?”

Cheyenne sighed. “It’s not here yet.”

“Well…hopefully, it’s just stress…” Steph raised an eyebrow.

“It is, now stop,” Cheyenne growled.

“Come in, ladies.” Adam appeared at the door. They entered the room.

“Please sit.” Adam beamed. After they did, he picked up a magazine from his desk.

“Here it is.” His voice cracked a little. “The article is amazing.”

Cheyenne noticed him pause for a moment, seeming to gather himself.

“The pictures are out of this world.”

Cheyenne was elated at his reaction and noticed Steph was glowing.

“It goes live and on the shelves this morning. I am so proud of you both!” Adam crossed to them. Cheyenne and Steph both stood and he gave them each a hug.

“You two worked very hard on this article. I love the cover picture.” Cheyenne and Steph agreed on the picture that “Goddess” took from the floor. Fury were gathered around her in a circle. It couldn’t have been staged better.

“I am giving you a raise, Cheyenne.”

“Thank you, Mr. Brier.”

“I'm also giving you both the rest of the day off,” Adam replied. “Now go! Be gone, have fun and I will see you tomorrow at the airport.”

“I can’t believe he’s giving me a raise!” Cheyenne squealed as they headed for the elevator.

“Come on…get your purse. Let’s go shopping!” Steph could always find a reason to shop.

“Can we find a place to eat first? I'm starving.”

“Where do you want to eat?”

“Do tacos in the morning sound strange?” Cheyenne dug through her purse.

Steph raised both eyebrows. “A little. How about some breakfast? Maybe they can make you a Mexican omelet.”

“Oh, that’s sounds delicious.” Cheyenne applied some lipstick as they took the elevator down to the lobby.

“Let’s go to Myrna’s.” Myrna’s was a cute little café on the next block. “We can walk there. It’s so gorgeous out,” Steph said.

They walked and talked nonstop. As they passed a magazine stand, they saw several people murmuring over The Sound Wave. Cheyenne could read the title of her article, ‘Hell Hath No Fury’. She and Stephanie exchanged smiles without a word.

They found a nice table outside and sat.

A waitress approached.

“Hello my name is Helen and I'll be your waitress today. Can I get you something to drink?’

“I’ll take a large glass of orange juice,” Cheyenne said.

“Make that two,” Steph replied.

“Ok, I’ll be right back.”

They picked up the menus. “Crap, no Mexican omelets.” Cheyenne sighed. Soon Helen returned with their drinks and they ordered their food.

Cheyenne cleared her throat.

“So any thoughts on the party—are you concerned?”

“What do you mean?” Steph took a sip of her orange juice.

“You know…Phillip.”

“I haven’t really thought about it.” Steph shrugged.

“Bullshit.” Cheyenne leaned back in her seat.

“There’s nothing to think about.” Steph’s expression was casual. “You on the other hand…what are you going to say to Scot?”

Cheyenne shook her head with a freaked out face.

“I think I’ll just hide in the shadows.”

“You can’t hide from this situation.” Steph sighed. “And neither can I.”

“What do you think will happen?” Cheyenne shifted in her seat.

“I don’t know,” Steph paused. “Phillip will probably ignore me or scream at me all night. It’s going to be a very uncomfortable situation. Come on, we’re here to celebrate. After we eat we should get a mani/pedi and I’m thinking of changing my hair. It’s time for something new.”

“Maybe I will too,” Cheyenne said as a trace of a grin curved her lips. Since they’d returned home, she had been seeing a therapist weekly. Starting to look inward, she believed that with work she’d be able to move forward soon. Their food arrived and neither one of them discussed Fury the rest of the day.

The next morning Cheyenne climbed out of bed, grabbed her purse, and went into the bathroom. Locking the door behind her, she took a deep breath and pulled the pregnancy tests out of her purse. She quickly scanned the instructions, followed them, and waited. The day before, while Steph was getting her hair colored, Cheyenne had told her she was going for coffee. On the way to the coffee shop, she passed a pharmacy. Without hesitation, she had gone inside and purchased the test. She looked up from the floor to the test and her stomach sank as she saw two pink lines. Positive. Cheyenne placed her head in her hands. How could she have been so irresponsible? She’d forgotten to take her birth control pills a couple of times while they traveled with Fury due to the time zone changes.

“Shit!” Tears welled up in her eyes. She picked up the test and threw it across the bathroom.

“Hello?” Steph asked from the other side of the door.

Cheyenne grabbed the test and shoved it into the garbage can.

“Just a minute!” She glanced around to make sure nothing was visible, then went to the door and unlocked it. She turned to grab her purse and the empty pregnancy test box fell out.

Steph glanced at the box, and then looked at her expectantly.

“Well?” She crossed her arms.

Cheyenne reached into the garbage can and showed Steph the result.

“Oh shit.”

“It c…could be false,” Cheyenne stammered and felt like her throat was being squeezed by a giant set of hands.

“Highly unlikely.”

For a moment, Steph looked and sounded so much like Cedric it was scary. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know…get an abortion?” Cheyenne sat down on the edge of the tub feeling weak in the knees. “Why in the hell did I do this to myself? I don’t need a baby right now.”

Steph walked to her and kneeled down.

“Don’t get too far ahead of yourself. Make an appointment on Monday with your Gynecologist and go from there. Why don’t you take a nice hot bath? I’ll run down to the deli and grab us something to eat.”

Cheyenne nodded, blinking the tears away before they could fully form.

As soon as Steph left the room Cheyenne walked to the tub, turned it on and poured a hefty amount of bubble bath in. Spotting herself in the mirror, she looked down at her flat stomach and touched it. Was it possible? Could there really be a baby in there? Removing her pajamas, she climbed into the tub and the bubbles enveloped her. Relaxing back, she closed her eyes. Thoughts of Scot and the possibility of a pregnancy engorged her mind until she could think of nothing else. The timing couldn’t have been worse. Though she always thought she’d have a child one day, she figured she’d be married. Her career was just starting to take off. Scot was so amazing with his nieces that she couldn’t imagine anyone making a better father. Unfortunately, she couldn’t imagine a more inappropriate mother. For a fleeting moment she considered calling her therapist, but decided against it.

Steph walked to the deli and purchased bagels and coffee. Cheyenne was pregnant. Steph hoped Cheyenne could see reason and keep the baby. Though not particularly religious, Steph had a healthy fear of fire and brimstone and her Catholic guilt ran deep. On top of this, she believed Scot would jump at the chance to be the father. She knew Cheyenne needed to come to this conclusion on her own and that she’d just screw things up if she tried to interfere. As Steph tried to focus on anything else, Phillip planted himself in the forefront of her mind. He hadn’t tried to contact her since they’d returned home. Their tryst in the cottage had been on her mind all morning. She shivered involuntarily as memories of his caresses and kisses overcame her. He’d been so protective when Duncan had manhandled her and he had seemed so genuine in his remorse to Cheyenne. Seeing him with his family had opened her eyes to a completely different side of Phillip. Sullen, she reminded herself that he wasn’t trying to contact her. Shaking her head to clear her mind, she stepped back into the sunshine.

“New York is going to suck,” she muttered under her breath.

Upon returning to the apartment, Steph and Cheyenne ate their bagels and drank their coffee, discussing Cheyenne’s next assignment and Adam’s valiant attempt to keep Steph as a permanent employee. She had stuck to her guns, telling him that all music pictures would go to him, but that she was going 100% freelance and had no intention of ever running The Sound Wave. She’d assured him that she still loved him and the magazine, but it would never be her passion. He’d had little recourse but to agree that she should go. Cheyenne found it hard to imagine not having Steph as a coworker and wondered about the long term implications.

They’d finished eating and Cheyenne lit a cigarette and plopped on the couch.

“You know if you are pregnant and decide to keep it…” Steph began.

“Please don’t bring it up right now,” Cheyenne growled.

Steph shrugged. “I’m going to go shower.” She disappeared into her room.

Cheyenne glanced at the clock. It was almost noon. In a little over 24 hours she would be in the same room with Scot.

Once they settled into their rooms in New York City, they collected Gerald and headed out for a little sight-seeing. They toured Central Park, The Statue of Liberty and the 911 Memorial. Emotionally and physically exhausted, they decided to call it a day.

The next morning, Gerald had scheduled appointments for make-up and hair at an incredible salon. The day before, Cheyenne chosen to have some of her length cut off and her hair now fell to the bottom of her shoulder blades. Steph had her red hair highlighted with strawberry blonde and had added layers. Cheyenne thought the lighter shade really added to Steph’s beauty.

“Did you hear that Fury is in town today for a party?” one of the hairstylists said to the other.

Cheyenne glanced at Steph.

“Who’s Fury?” Steph asked with a small smile.

“O-M-G! I can’t believe you don’t know them.” The stylist turned away and grabbed a magazine, The Sound Wave.

Cheyenne chuckled.

“What?” The stylist asked.

Cheyenne looked at Steph who rolled her eyes. “That’s our story on the cover.”

The stylist’s mouth dropped. “No way! I can’t believe it! For real?”

Her coworker, who was working on Steph’s hair, squealed.

“Yeah. Look.” Gerald took the magazine from her and flipped to a picture “Goddess” had snapped of them with the group.

The stylist looked at the picture then at Steph and Cheyenne, “It is you.”

Immediately the two stylists began bombarding them with questions about Fury.

They begged for them to autograph their magazine. The girls relented.

“I can’t believe they asked for our autographs.” Cheyenne giggled as they rode back to their hotel.

“Yeah that was pretty cool,” Steph reluctantly agreed.

Later, as Cheyenne slid into her perfectly tailored evening gown, she looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes resting on her stomach.

“Should I tell him?” Cheyenne asked.

Steph stopped applying her eye shadow and nodded.

“Don’t you think I should wait until I know for sure.”

“You’re probably right.” Steph looked away.

Cheyenne walked to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer; she lit a cigarette and walked to the window. Her stomach was filled with butterflies. She took a couple hefty drinks of the beer and seeing Steph’s disapproving glance dumped the rest down the sink.

“Ready?” Steph asked from behind her.

“Nope.” Cheyenne grabbed her purse.

“Me either.”

They laughed together then made their way down to the street. The chauffeur opened the door and they climbed in to the limo, joining Gerald and Adam Brier.

“You both look beautiful.” Steph’s father shot them a broad smile.

“You’re looking quite dashing yourself, Father.” Steph fixed him with a dazzling grin.

Gerald beamed at them.

“If I liked women, I would be all over both of you. This is so exciting!” He chattered nonstop all the way to the party.

Upon arriving, the scene outside the limo resembled every crowd they’d encountered when traveling with the band. Security kept the surging fans at bay and camera flashes exploded like fireworks. As they exited the limo, Cheyenne was agape as several microphones were thrust in her direction. Suddenly nervous and shy, she kept her eyes focused on the entrance, but couldn’t help stealing a sideways glance at the TV camera that was focused on her. Several voices shouted her name simultaneously, causing her to look around wildly. She noticed Adam and Stephanie were stopped ahead of her, and Adam was giving a statement.

“Ms. Carson… the drug ring. Can you tell us anymore details?” A well-dressed reporter leaned into her path, his microphone an inch from her mouth.

“Every detail I know is in the article. Go buy a copy of this month’s Sound Wave,” Cheyenne replied coolly, impressed with her own moxie. Maybe Steph’s ballsy behavior was finally starting to rub off on her.

“What about the video of the fight between Mr. Clayton and Mr. Charles that’s gone viral? Any more details on that?” Cheyenne turned crimson.

“No comment.”

The reporter eyed her amused. He’d touched a nerve, and Cheyenne could tell by the twinkle in his eyes, he knew it.

“But you were there…obviously.” Cheyenne saw Gerald shove the microphone into the reporters chest.

“She said no comment!” he snapped, as he tugged Cheyenne further down the red carpet. They arrived behind Adam and Steph, just in time to hear a female reporter begin to question Steph.

“Ms. Brier, is it true you and David Evans are an item and if so, how does Kevin Wiley feel about that?” she shouted over the other reporters.

Cheyenne thought Steph might have whiplash from the way her head whipped in the reporters direction.

“No, we’re not an item and I don’t give a shit what Kevin Wiley thinks.” Steph’s petulant reply made everyone within earshot laugh, except Adam, who merely shook his head. He pulled Steph along, past the red carpet contingent and into the building before she could do any more P.R. damage.

Cheyenne took her time and stopped for a couple of pictures. She’d worked damn hard and relished the attention, but refused to answer any questions.

When Gerald finally pulled her inside the building, the ballroom was breathtaking. The decorator had chosen to go completely black and white. Onyx chandeliers hung from the ceilings. Tall white centerpieces towered over the tables. The DJ was spinning Don’t You Want Me Baby from one of D.J. Dave’s limo mixes, and this small touch made Cheyenne’s face split in a huge grin and she giggled uncontrollably.

Her eyes searched for Steph and saw she was looking right at her with a wry smile. As she made her way further into the room, she noticed that the ballroom opened onto a fantastic panoramic veranda. She could see it lead to an infinity pool surrounded by seating and palm trees. The glamour was so astonishing that Cheyenne felt moved; this party celebrated her hard work as well as Fury’s. Nausea gripped her and she wasn’t sure if it was from excitement or the pregnancy.

“Adam!” They all turned in the direction of the male voice and saw Mark Smith making his way to them. He shook hands with Adam, and Cheyenne barely recognized the former accountant. His demeanor had transformed; he seemed incredibly relaxed and happy.

“The pictures and the article are amazing. We’re all thrilled.”

“Thank you, we couldn’t have done it without Stephanie and Cheyenne.”

Mark turned to the girls. “You two did a great job; Fury is very pleased.”

“Thanks.” Cheyenne nearly burst with pride.

“Come with me. There are many people dying to meet you.” Mark’s broad smile was welcoming as he offered an arm to both Cheyenne and Steph. “Fury should be here any moment. Always fashionably late...they remind me of women sometimes, the way they must get all primped. No offense, ladies.”

He proceeded to introduce Cheyenne to many VIP’s and several record executives. Cheyenne was distracted, knowing that Scot would soon be in the same room. She felt like she was having chest pain and hoped she wouldn’t vomit on her very expensive gown. After posing for a few more pictures with several musicians she adored, Steph grabbed her by the elbow.

“What do you say we go have a breath of fresh air?” Steph said under her breath.

Cheyenne nodded and followed Steph through the crowd. They made their way to the veranda. Cheyenne collapsed in a chair and lit a cigarette.

“That was exhausting, but Holy God! Can you believe who’s here.”

“Did you see Kevin?” Stephanie’s reply was casual.

“Yeah, and his date.”

He’d arrived with Maria, the co-star of his latest film.

“How do you feel about that?”

Steph smiled with complete confidence. “She can have him.”

“Damn straight. I’m glad the guys aren’t here yet. That would have been overkill.” Cheyenne exhaled.

“What am I doing here?” Steph shook her head and looked up at the sky. Cheyenne noticed Steph’s mood change when she’d mentioned the guys.

“I think this will be a good time for closure.” Cheyenne flung her cigarette into a nearby ashtray, feeling suddenly nauseated by the smoke.

“What do you mean?”

“You know as well as I do that we left some… things… unresolved in Rome.”

“Come on. Let’s go back inside.” Steph seemed to steel herself and Cheyenne admired her courage. The butterflies in her stomach seemed to be having seizures.

Reentering the ballroom, they each grabbed a glass of champagne. Cheyenne downed the first and grabbed another.

“You know...” Steph began, her blue eyes suddenly identical to Cedric’s.

“Don’t. Not tonight. Please…my nerves are shot.”

Steph rolled her head back and lifted her eyes to the ceiling.

“Here they are everyone!” Mark called out, snapping Cheyenne to attention. She looked to the entrance as Nathan, Bret and David entered. The crowd inside the room immediately migrated in their direction, and cameras flashed furiously, giving the ballroom a strobe light appearance.

“Come on, let’s go over there.” Cheyenne pulled Steph away with her to a couch on the opposite side of the ballroom. She told herself this was to avoid the crowd, but a small voice inside whispered that she was being cowardly about facing Fury.

“I think I’m going to hyperventilate.” She fanned herself.

“Just breathe,” Steph ordered. Her voice was solid but she looked antsy. They waited for the crowd to thin before standing.

“Steph!” Nathan exclaimed, making his way toward them. Cheyenne swallowed hard and avoided his eyes. Steph waved at Nathan.

“I missed you.” Nathan embraced Steph, “My God, you look gorgeous. I love your hair.”

“I missed you too, you little jerk.” Steph returned his embrace.

Nathan looked at Cheyenne, and reached his hand out to her. After a moment’s hesitation, she took it. He gave it a gentle squeeze and his apologetic eyes mollified her.

“I love the pictures and story. You two are aces.” Nathan smiled.

“We had a great group to work with.” Steph’s response seemed automated and as Cheyenne looked at her, she saw Steph nervously watching the entrance.

David and Bret appeared and they all exchanged hugs.

“Bret! You’re here?’ Cheyenne blurted, grabbing another glass of champagne from a passing tray. Steph snatched it from her grasp and swigged it. Cheyenne scoffed and cocked her head to the side.

“Thanks,” Steph said, and smiled brightly.

“I sure am. I’ve had a change of heart. I’m staying with the group now that Ian isn’t in the picture. This is my wife, Sarah.” He presented them a lovely blonde with a sweet smile.

“Pleased to meet you.” Cheyenne welcomed Sarah with a gracious handshake.

David also had a lady on his arm, who he introduced as Yara. She was a gorgeous, dark-skinned woman, whose exotic looks were attracting a lot of attention. Cheyenne scanned the room for Scot and was both disappointed and relieved when she didn’t see him. She leaned over to Steph. “I’m going outside to get some air.”

She made her way through the crowd and was relieved to be alone on the veranda. She found herself looking out at the skyline. It was a beautiful fall evening. Wondering where Scot was and if he was avoiding her, she found her cigarettes and lit one.

“There you are,” his voice said from behind her.

Her pulse raced suddenly. Overcome, Cheyenne found herself unable to move or speak. Willing her body to obey her command, she slowly turned, knowing the sight of him would take her breath away.

She wasn’t disappointed; her breath caught in her throat. Scot stunned her, his dark curly locks perfectly disheveled and his chiseled features more breathtaking than she remembered. His long, lean body was perfectly adorned in a dark navy suit, his white shirt open at the collar.

“You look ravishing,” Scot said breathlessly. He’d stopped a foot from her, and in the moonlight she saw his eyes slowly take her in. After what seemed like minutes, he turned away and looked out at the city.

“It’s a beautiful night.”

Cheyenne mutely stared at her shoes. She had so many things she wanted to tell him, but she had no idea where to begin.

“The article’s smashing.” She could feel him looking at her.

“Thanks,” she managed and looked up to face him. Their eyes locked.

“I missed you. I wanted to call you so many times just to hear your voice.” Scot’s magnetic eyes held hers and refused to let her look away.

“Scot…” Cheyenne took a deep breath. “I was such a mess. I’m sorry for what happened with Nathan.”

His gaze shifted back to the city lights. When he stayed silent, she continued.

“The look in your eyes that day in Dublin still haunts me.”

Scot turned to her again. He reached out and touched her face, making Cheyenne shiver.

Boldly, she plunged forward with what she’d planned to ask.

“Scot, do you still believe in love at first sight?”

“Yes, Cheyenne, I do.” Scot held her gaze and pulled a small red velvet box out of his pocket.

“Marry me.”

Cheyenne felt a tear slip down her cheek. Scot’s arms were around her waist and he pulled her close. “Wait.” Cheyenne’s hands were on his chest. Scot frowned.

“I need to tell you something.” She took a large, exaggerated breath.

“Go on,” Scot murmured, a trace of amusement danced across his face. Desperation choked her, and she took several slow breaths, hoping her predicament wouldn’t cause him to turn his back on her.

She wiped tears away and Scot’s eye brows knit in a frown.

“Cheyenne, is something wrong?”

“I think I’m pregnant.”

He let go of Cheyenne and her stomach fell. She turned away from him, furious at herself for burdening him on what should have been a festive evening.

As she tried to pull the shattered pieces of her dignity together, she felt his arms come around her from behind and his chin rested on her shoulder. Her eyes closed, and she savored the familiar sensation of his touch.

“If I am, I’m not sure I want to keep it. My career is just beginning.” Cheyenne held her breath as she continued to stare at the cityscape.

Scot turned her to him and put a finger under her chin, raising her face to his.

“It’s not how I pictured our life together starting, but we’ll figure it out together.” Scot’s sincere smile convinced her that he intended to stay at her side.

When their lips met, Cheyenne felt as if her world turned on its axis.

“I love you,” Cheyenne blurted.

Scot’s broad smile astounded her. How had she ever walked away from him?

“I love you, too.” Scot pulled her close and kissed her repeatedly. When they finally parted lips, he held her protectively in his arms.

“Marry me, Cheyenne.”

Cheyenne searched his eyes for motivation and suddenly heard Cedric’s advice replay in her mind. Scot was offering her his heart and she would not walk away from his gift again. “Yes, I will.”

Tears of joy glistened in his eyes and Cheyenne felt like she could lift off and fly away.

“It’s great to catch up with you Nathan. Sounds like Fury’s doing surprisingly well considering everything.”

“We are. It was really hard to believe that Ian had the stones to do what he did. Fortunately we had Mark behind the scenes making sure our reputation wouldn’t be tarnished. As it turns out, Ian turned on the rest of them and is singing like a canary. As verbose as he is, it shouldn’t take long to close the case.” Nathan’s emerald eyes rolled to the heavens. “Due to the investigation, we were sequestered. The only exception was concerts. It was bloody awful—like reliving life with Ian squared. It nearly killed Scot, the poor bugger. We couldn’t even call our families…it’s been a long month. He really does care for Cheyenne.”

Steph noted with surprise that Nathan hesitated, his face dour.

“ I shouldn’t have done what I did. It was a major strain on the band.”

“It wasn’t your finest hour. And I’m sorry about screaming at you. I need to go to anger management.”

“Speaking of screaming and anger management, I’m not sure what happened between you and Phillip.” Nathan flicked a strand of hair from his intuitive eyes, a reticent smile playing on his lips. “But he seems like a different man.”

Steph’s nerves were shot at the prospect of seeing Phillip; she just wanted to get through the night. She noticed Nathan watching her, and she looked him straight in the eyes.

“I don’t want him to be a different man.”

“Well, speak of the devil.” He glanced over her shoulder.

“Stephanie.” Phillip’s voice caused her an avalanche of goose bumps and her heart hammered with such force that she was surprised Nathan couldn’t hear it. She inhaled deeply and turned to look at him. He was a bronze vision in his Hugo Boss suit, his whiskered face smoldered, as always.

“Phillip,” she managed.

His simmering gaze fixed on her as if they were the only two people in the room.

“Right, this is my cue to go elsewhere. Ta.” Nathan’s voice seemed a million miles away and Steph couldn’t peel her eyes from Phillip’s as Nathan took his leave.

“May I speak with you somewhere little more private?” Philip’s blue eyes swept over her hair, her dress, and all the ivory skin it exposed. Every cell in her body felt inflamed and feverish.

“Sure.” Her response came out as a breathless whisper.

Be cool, Steph!

Phillip placed a hand on her lower back and, as he led her to a dark corner, her skin tingled under his touch.

When he had her alone and away from the loud music and crowds, Phillip shoved his hands in his pockets. His hesitation was disconcerting, but Steph waited silently, vowing to shut the hell up for once. Her hands were shaking and she was unsure what to do with them. She placed them behind her back and leaned against the cold marble wall. It felt marvelous against her blistering skin.

“I wanted to call,” Phillip began, rubbing his whiskered jaw nervously, “but with all the chaos on Fury’s side, we were advised not to.”

“I know, Nathan told me.”

“Honestly, I needed to speak with you face to face.” His eyes fastened on hers and his distress was evident. Steph felt uncomfortable and was tempted to fidget, but she willed her feet to stay firmly planted. She needed to know what his thoughts were, but the wait was intolerable.

“It sounds like things are going well,” Steph offered, after a long uncomfortable pause. “With Fury, that is.”

She groaned internally. Shut up, Steph!

“Yes it is,” Phillip agreed, and his rich voice made her think of warm, creamy eggnog. As she instructed herself to focus on his words, he continued. “But that’s not what I want to talk to you about.”

He ran a hand through his fair hair and Steph recalled the way it felt clutched between her fingers. He glanced her way just as she shuddered.

“I want to start by saying I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Steph thought their scoreboard was all tied up on the field of poor behavior, and couldn’t imagine which particular offense he’d singled out.

Phillip took a step toward her as he looked her in the eye.

“For being a pompous ass at every turn. I’ve often wondered how different things might have been if Ian had simply told us to expect you that day we first met.”

Steph felt herself relax against the marble wall behind her. She’d wondered the same thing all the way home on the plane.

“Why were you so against the story Phillip?”

Phillip’s eyes narrowed at the question and he rubbed his whiskered cheek again. He shrugged and seemed to look past her. Just when she was sure he wouldn’t answer, he took another step toward her and leaned against the wall facing her, placing his hands in his pockets again.

“When Fury first started to have a following, we got cocky. The attention was addictive and I got caught up in it. I got mixed up with the wrong girl and when her fiancé came looking to start a fight, my little sis was at the show. He broke a beer bottle right beside her head and came after me with it. She still has a scar.”

Steph’s eyes were wide. She could see his sadness and residual anger and knew exactly which Phillip Kersey he was.

“As I said in my interview, not all attention is positive. I thought my family was better off far away from this madness. I chose it, not them.”

“That’s why you freaked out and avoided me.” Knowing the motivation for his hostility, Steph felt like several puzzle pieces shifted into place. He’d felt threatened by their story, and Ian’s incompetence and Goddess’s theatrics had agitated their first encounter into an eruption. She realized Phillip’s eyes were fixed on her mouth and he was dangerously close. Meeting her eyes, he shrugged again.

“That was part of it… I guess I was scared.”

“Of what?” She felt her heart in her throat as he pulled his a hand out of his pocket and placed it beside her head, cornering her. She felt ensnared by the position and she failed to suppress a spicy smile.

“The affect you have on me.” His serious expression wiped her smile away. Steph needed him to kiss her and desperately wanted to touch him. Somehow she managed to restrain herself.

Phillip looked down at the ground and then back up at her.

“I want to start over.” He reached out and entwined his large fingers with hers.

“You’re not the only one who behaved badly. I was argumentative and childish I owe you an apology.” Steph stroked his hand with her thumb. “But how do we start over?”

Phillip’s face blossomed into a gorgeous smile. He pulled her to him and kissed her deeply, taking his time. She had never felt so alive and could have stayed in the kiss all night. After several minutes of his skilled lips on hers and his body pinning her to the wall, he’d literally taken her breath away. She nearly went limp in his arms. He finally pulled away. She looked up at him, her eyes were glassy with lust.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Phillip Kersey. Now what do you say we go up to my room?” Steph laughed, and without a second thought she pulled him toward the nearest elevator.

It was a beautiful June morning in London, and the hospital waiting room was relatively quiet. The weather was so gorgeous that only those who really needed to be there were. Steph had taken the red eye from Chicago and had arrived two hours before. She dozed on Phillip’s shoulder as he pored over a magazine. He threw it down and picked up another.

“Darling, didn’t you take this?” he asked, holding out the cover of GQ.

Opening her eyes, she smiled and sat up.

“I sure did. Look at you, paying attention to things I do. That’s my man.”

Phillip graced her with a sardonic smirk. She leaned up and placed a light kiss on his lips. He put his hands in her hair and locked eyes with her.

“I wish you could stay longer. Don’t go back.” He looked down at her, searching her eyes. She squinted, wrinkling her nose but looked pleased.

“You always say that.”

“Well, I’d like to see you try to get back through customs without your passport.” He pulled her passport out of his inside coat pocket. She laughed as she struggled to take it from him. He teasingly held it up out of her reach and stuffed it back in his pocket as his hand brushed a velvet case containing his grandmother’s ring. He had a big evening planned.

“I have a surprise for you.” Phillip pointed toward the door. Steph turned and the look of shock she wore was almost comical. Cedric slowly approached them and held up a deck of cards.

“Cedric!” She sprung off the couch and practically knocked the priest down as she threw herself into his arms. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

“Pretty agile, old chap.” Phillip congratulated him for keeping his feet. Cedric waved his cane at him in a threatening manner.

“Did I miss the blessed event?” Cedric asked.

“Not that we’re aware of,” Steph murmured. “Phillip won’t allow me to speak to the nurses anymore.”

“Sensible fellow you have there.”

“I was afraid they might evict us from the waiting room,” Phillip chimed in.

“What are you doing here?” She was glowing and her dazzling smile lit up the waiting room.

“I promised Cheyenne and Scot I’d bless the baby.”

“But, they’re not Catholic.” Steph led him to the couch.

“No one’s perfect,” Cedric snarked and Phillip smiled approvingly.

“After nine months of listening to your foul mouth they didn’t want to chance it being born possessed by a demon,” Phillip teased. Cedric laughed out loud and high-fived him.

Steph scoffed and flipped him off.

“I’ve barely been around Cheyenne. Now that she’s living in the U.K. I hardly get to see her.”

“We’ve discussed how easily we could fix that problem,” Phillip interjected.

“We’ve been over this, Lippy. Cheyenne’s a journalist. She can do her job from anywhere. I have to be in the same location with my subjects.” As she began to shuffle the cards, Cedric gave Phillip a conspiratorial wink.

“Aren’t you Phillip Kersey?” Two teenagers materialized at Phillip’s side as if by magic.

“Yes, I am.” Phillip pulled his gaze away from Stephanie. He hoped she’d change her mind. He’d bought their cottage in Ireland and had it completely remodeled. They’d fly to Dublin tonight and he planned to pop the question there.

“Can we have your autograph?” The other gushed. Phillip happily obliged.

In the Labor Room, Cheyenne was sure she couldn’t endure one more moment. She felt like she was being ripped apart from the inside. After pushing for what seemed like days she was convinced she had nothing left to give.

“I’m dying!” she moaned. Scott was in her face, locking eyes with her.

“You’re not dying, it’s almost over.” Scot coached as she squeezed his hand, her fingers drenched with sweat. “I love you, Cheyenne. Now let’s see that baby.”

“Right. Cheyenne, one more push,” the doctor instructed.

Cheyenne psyched herself up for the last big push. She screamed like a madwoman and pushed as if at gunpoint.

“Here it comes!” the doctor announced. “It’s a boy!”

Cheyenne fell back on the bed, instantly in tears at the sound of her son’s lusty cries. Scot bent down and kissed her, stroking her hair. There were tears in his eyes as well. Cheyenne, who once doubted she’d ever be close to any man again, was now blessed with two of them that she could love unconditionally. As she watched her husband snapping pictures and chattering with the nurses, she felt serenity come over her.

Scot presented her their perfect little bundle. They both beamed as they gazed down at their wailing son. Scot wept unabashedly.

“He’s our next big adventure,” Scot said, kissing his squawking baby boy and beaming at his wife.

Cheyenne opened her mouth to speak and closed it. There were no words powerful enough to express what she was feeling, so she chose silence. One thing was for sure: she definitely believed in love at first sight. Tears of joy streamed steadily down her face as she kissed them both.

Both Authors would like to thank:

Jennifer Roberts Hall for her editing help. Glad we could make you swoon!

Sarah Hansen of OkayCreations. We love our cover. You’re a goddess.

A special thanks to Julie Titus for making Fury's insides sexy with her mad formatting skills!

Vanessa Proehl - without you we’d never have joined Bookaholics Anonymous and never have met any of them. You’re our cheerleading captain. XOXO

TAMMY A huge thank you goes out to a great friend Donna Sweet! Thanks so much for reading through Fury and giving us your honest opinion from day one.

MICHELLE Thanks so much to my writers group, 50 Authors and an Owl. You’ve been my compass.

A special thanks to Andrea Randall. You know why.

TAMMY COONS is the youngest of 7 children and lives in Illinois with her husband, Casey, and three children, Skyler, Sawyer, and Savana. Tammy graduated from Scott Community College in 2010 and holds a diploma in Health Information Technology. In order to pass time while seeking employment in 2010 she decided to update Fury, one of the many stories she and Michelle have written together in the past 20 years.

MICHELLE PACE is a Registered Nurse who lives in Texas with her husband, Les. She has two daughters, Holly and Bridgette, and one son, Kai. A singer and actress in her youth, Michelle has always enjoyed entertaining people and is excited to continue to do so as a writer.

For more information
http://www.Facebook.com/MichellePaceAndTammyCoons

@MichelleKPace

Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

About the Authors