Hollywood Princess Read online

  “You are so lucky I don’t want to go to jail,” I hiss at him as I move over, “or that the keys are not in the ignition because I would leave without you.” He gets in, hiding his smile of victory.

  “Good to know, babe.” He says it again, and I look over and punch his arm.

  “That’s considered assault.” He looks at me. “I could press charges.”

  “Wait there,” I say, grabbing my bootie and starting to tug it off so I can hit him with it.

  “I can’t have you being arrested,” Cori says from the back, laughing when Brian peels away from our room. “No one has time for that.” Then she looks at Brian. “Don’t poke the bear.”

  He doesn’t answer; he just throws his head back and laughs. “How is this? I call you babe when you don’t listen.”

  “How about this,” I counter, “you call me babe again, and you can sleep with one eye open.”

  “You’re cute when you’re angry.” I don’t know what shocks me more, the fact that he admitted I’m cute, or the fact that I’m almost as giddy as a teenager with hearts in her eyes. I don’t have time to reply because the cart comes to a stop and he gets out. Grabbing his bag, he heads into the lobby.

  “Did I just witness foreplay?” Cori whispers as we get out of the cart. “I mean, I don’t know about you, but his voice just made my knees weak.”

  “Shut up, Cori,” I hiss at her. Walking into the lobby, I see him standing beside the car talking to the driver. The back door to the car is open, so I just duck my head and get into the town car. Cori follows me into the back seat, and the door closes behind her. “It’s day five, and this is happening. How are we going to survive?” she says under her breath, and I think the same thing.

  Except I don’t have time to think because we arrive at the venue, and I’m ushered into the back with Cori on one side and Brian on the other.

  He keeps his hand on my lower back as he walks almost like his body can cover me if anything happens. The sound guy, Jerry, meets me at the stairs. “Hey, Jerry,” I say, smiling at him. He’s already wearing his headset as he hands me my ear plugs and the mic.

  “Here you go, gorgeous.” He smiles at me, and my knees don’t get weak nor do his words leave me breathless, but the other dork calls me cute and all my senses go into overdrive. I walk out to the middle of the stage and look out at the empty venue. Workers are busy setting everything up, so the only one sitting down watching is Brian. I try to zone him out as I run through the set list. We make a couple of changes when I hear the feedback in my ears. When I hand Jerry the microphone, I walk off the stage, and Cori leads me to my dressing room.

  I’m a little in shock when I walk in and it looks like I’m in someone’s house and not backstage in a venue with cement walls. Heavy white drapes cover the walls. White couches line the room with low white tables decorated with vases of white roses. A huge white vanity has white light bulbs all around the mirror. A table set up across the room has drinks and snacks on it. “It smells like a flower shop in here,” Brian says and then sneezes four times in a row.

  “Did you know there is a theory that says if you sneeze six times in a row, it’s like a mild orgasm?” Cori says, sitting on one of the white couches. We both turn to look at her in shock, and she just raises her eyebrows. “What?” She crosses her legs. “You’ve never wondered about it?”

  “Not for one minute in my whole life,” Brian says, and I walk to the door. “I can just imagine what your Google search looks like.”

  She throws her head back and laughs while I grab my workout bag. “Oh, you don’t want to know that.” Cori looks at me. “The changing room is to the right behind the white veil.” I nod and walk to the side, moving the fabric aside. I look inside, and this is more like it.

  All the walls are squared cement blocks with five brown bathroom stalls and three white sinks stuck on the wall. I’m about to kick off my shoes when I feel wind beside me and see Brian walk by with his bag in his hand as he heads to one of the stalls. Walking to the biggest stall at the end, I change into my workout clothes. Folding my clothes, I walk out of the stall and see that he is already gone. When I walk into the room, I see him in his workout gear. He’s wearing black shorts, and a black short-sleeved shirt molds his whole torso.

  “Ready?” he asks, slapping his hands together, and I nod. We walk out together and find the gym. The trainer meets me and looks at us as we walk in. “I’ll be on the treadmill,” he tells me, walking to the five treadmills that are side by side. I don’t have time to watch him because the trainer introduces herself, and for the next hour, I block him out of my mind and push my body.

  Chapter Twelve

  Brian

  Looking in the mirror while I raise the dumbbells at my sides, I watch her ass run on the treadmill. This is much better than when the fucking trainers made her do squats with her ass to the mirror. It was at that time I knew I was close to the edge.

  “So this is where all the cool people hang?” a woman wearing a sports bra and tight booty shorts says as she walks in. I recognize her as one of the backup dancers. She is wearing a baseball cap on her head with her hair in a ponytail at her nape. Kellie looks over at her and smiles, then grabs a water bottle and drinks it. Her chest is heaving, sweat pouring down the sides of her face.

  “I don’t know about cool people,” she huffs out, smiling.

  “Stacey and I were doing the routine over and over for the past two hours. That was my exercise for the day.”

  “Have you met Brian?” she asks, pointing at me, and I set the dumbbells down for the introduction. The woman gives me a once-over. “Brian, this is Jennifer, one of my backup dancers.”

  She walks over to me with a swing in her hips, holding out her hand. “So he’s the one everyone’s been whispering about.” Wiping my hands on my shorts, I shake her hand. She grabs it tightly and shakes it up and down while she continues to talk. “I can see it now.” She smirks, not letting me go no matter how much I try to slowly move my hand from her tight grip.

  “I’ll make sure to introduce him tonight at dinner,” Kellie says, and I’m finally able to slip my hand out of her grip, but she makes sure her finger lingers in the middle of my hand, and she swirls it in a circle. Pulling my hand away, I smile at her tightly.

  “Are you ready to go?” I look over at Kellie, and she nods at me, so we get ready to walk out of the room.

  “We will see everyone later,” Kellie announces.

  Jennifer says under her breath, “I hope to get to see a lot of that later.” The words almost make me shrivel up. We walk out, and Kellie walks with her head down, her body tense next to me.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask her right before we walk into her room.

  “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t flirt on the job.” She doesn’t look at me as she turns and walks into the room, leaving me by myself. I don’t take the time to get my temper under control before I storm in and see her grabbing her bag. “I’ll shower at the hotel room.” She looks at Cori, who gives me a questionable look.

  “Excuse me,” I say to her, and she still doesn’t look up. “Kellie,” I snap, and she finally looks up. “I was not flirting. In case you missed what went on in there,” I say, pointing back to the hallway, “she wouldn’t release my hand. It was almost like the grip of death.” I walk to my bag, then grab it, and sling it over my shoulder. “If anything, she was flirting with me, and I was being polite.”

  “Whatever.” She rolls her eyes. “Is the car here?” She ignores me, turning to Cori, who just nods. We don’t say anything to each other the whole time we walk out of the venue and get in the car. She doesn’t sit next to me in the golf cart either. Instead, she sits in the back with Cori, who ignores everything by being on her phone. Cori is the first one out of the cart and up her stairs before I turn off the cart.

  “Three hours!” she yells over her shoulder and walks into her cottage, slamming the door behind her. I grab my bag and look at the front door of our cott
age, and I’m not surprised that it’s slammed shut also.

  I grab my bag and look for the key but see that I don’t have it. “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, getting up and going to the door and knocking on it. One time, nothing; twice, nothing again. I do it the third time, this time knocking a touch louder, and still nothing. “Motherfucker,” I say, jogging back down the steps and walking around the premises, knowing she has a balcony door in her bedroom. I see the balcony and then look under and find the ladder I had put there in case we had to evacuate. I was going to jump out and put up the ladder for her. As I pull the ladder from under the balcony, it gets stuck on something, so I have to crouch down and untangle it from a folding chair that was tossed under here. As I attempt not to crush my hand, I bump my head on the wooden plank, and I’m beyond pissed now. Placing the ladder on the balcony, I climb up it and count, “One Mississippi.” I don’t make it to three before I’m climbing over the railing, and I finally look into the glass sliding door and see Kellie. Not just normal, piss-me-off Kellie, but a totally naked Kellie. She turns around and yelps when she sees me standing on the balcony, and I’m stuck to my spot. I should turn around or I should look to the left, but I don’t do any of that. I just stare at her as she grabs the white comforter from the bed to cover herself.

  “What the fuck are you doing out there?” I hear her yelling while she unlocks, then slides the door open with one hand while the other hand holds up the cover. “Are you crazy? You almost gave me a heart attack.”

  “You locked me out of the room.” I put my hands on my hips. “And I knocked.” I raise one hand. “Three times. Did you not hear me?” The question makes her swallow and blink.

  “I didn’t know you were locked out.” Her voice is quiet. “I mean …”

  “You mean you heard me knocking and was like fuck him, let him figure it out.” I advance on her, and she backs up and away from the door.

  “No.” She shakes her head while she says that.

  “I had to come in the back and climb up here with a ladder.” Pointing at the ladder on the side, I say, “I smashed my head on a wooden plank all because you were having a hissy fit.”

  “I was not having a hissy fit.” Her second hand covers her first hand. “It’s called ignoring the person.”

  “Why?” The question is out before I can take it back.

  “You were being a jerk, and I didn’t feel like talking to you, so …” She moves out of the way, and I walk into the room, shutting the door behind me and locking it. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need to nap and to take a shower.” She walks toward her bathroom, never once turning around. When the door shuts behind her and I hear the click of the lock, I know this conversation is over. Walking out of her room, I slam the door behind me. I walk to my room and grab a key card, then go outside and put the ladder back in its place. Walking back inside, I head straight to my room and take my own shower and nap, or at least try.

  Five o’clock comes with a knock on my bedroom door. “Come in.” I’m sitting on the bed, putting on my boot when the door opens and in comes Kellie. Her hair is still on top of her head, but she’s wearing a long one-piece dress that comes off one shoulder and has a slit on both sides.

  “Cori is outside.” Her voice comes out soft, and I look up from tying my boot. Her hands are in front of her, and she is fidgeting with her fingers. “I’m sorry about before.” I stand, and she looks me up and down.

  “What exactly are you sorry about?” I ask her with my hip cocked to one side.

  “Well,” she starts, and I laugh, shaking my head.

  “You don’t really apologize to anyone?”

  “I’m usually always right.” She tries to hide the smirk, but when I start laughing, she does also. “Don’t laugh. It’s not funny.”

  “It’s so funny because I’ve been with you for what, five days, and you were wrong four times.” I walk to my bag, picking it up from the floor and putting it on the bed.

  “Six days,” she says softly, her laughter gone, and I look at her. “We’ve been together for six days.” I watch her eyes as she looks at me. “But I’m sorry I didn’t answer the door.” I raise my eyebrows, and she rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m not going to apologize for you hitting your head.”

  “If you had answered the door, I wouldn’t have hit my head,” I point out to her.

  “Maybe it knocked some sense into you,” she mumbles, and I can’t answer her because Cori peeks in the room.

  “What’s going on?” she asks, looking from Kellie to me.

  “She is trying to apologize, but she sucks at it,” I tell Cori, and she just laughs.

  “She never says she’s sorry, so consider yourself lucky,” Cori says. Kellie raises her hands in the air and turns to Cori, who holds up her hands in surrender. “Don’t even try to say anything because you know you never ever say you’re sorry.”

  “I do, too,” she argues. “I say it all the time.”

  “Really?” Cori says. “What about when you ate the last egg roll that was mine?” I watch those two fight, and if you didn’t know any better, you would think they were sisters. “The only time you said you were sorry was when you ran over my foot.”

  “Oh my God.” Kellie throws up her hands. “I can’t believe you are even bringing that up. Why were you even standing so close to the car?” Cori looks at me.

  “See”—she points at Kellie—“so you should count yourself lucky that you got a sorry. Now let’s get the show on the road. Leave your bag. I have them collecting everything, and it will be on the bus when we leave.” Kellie turns around and heads out. “You are getting under her skin. This can go either way, but I hope for her sake that whatever you do, she’s ready for it.”

  “What does that even mean?” I ask her and then look at her. “I’m here to do a job, and that is what I’m doing. Making sure she’s safe.”

  “Keep telling yourself that,” Cori says and turns to walk out before I can even say anything. I walk out of the room, leaving my luggage on my bed, and find Cori and Kellie waiting in the golf cart for me. I hear whispering, but I don’t say anything.

  Once we get to the venue, Kellie goes into superstar mode. Her hair and makeup are done while she completes her voice warmups. Cori brings her two plates of assorted food. “You need to eat,” she tells her, and Kellie just nods. When the makeup and hair people leave, she plops down on the couch next to me. Leaning back, she closes her eyes while I scroll through the news on my phone.

  “You didn’t eat anything,” I tell her, looking at my phone and then at her again.

  “I’m not hungry.” Her eyes are still closed, so I stand to get the plate and bring it to the couch.

  “Eat,” I tell her. She opens her eyes and looks at me sideways. “You have to. You’ll be under the lights and dancing for the next two hours.” She just looks at me. “Please.”

  “You’re so annoying.” She sits up, grabs the sandwich from the plate, and takes a bite. I pick up a bottle of water from the table and hand it to her while she chews. She eats a bit more from the plate and then looks at me. “If I eat anymore, I’ll get a cramp.”

  “Okay, baby,” I say softly, caught in the stare of her eyes. I should stop this now and block it out, but sometimes, things have a mind of their own. Regardless of what this is, it will be nothing until I’m not working for her any longer.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kellie

  The hiss of the bus stopping and turning off makes me open my eyes. I’m lying on the couch dressed in sweatpants and a big comfy sweater. We’ve been on the road for about twelve hours, so we only have seven more to go. “What time is it?” I ask, disoriented.

  “Almost noon,” Jackie says, walking to the front of the bus and going out the door. I stretch my arms and hit him, the man who is suddenly everywhere—in my head, in my space, and in my dreams. I can’t escape him. He doesn’t say anything more. He just gets up and holds out his hand to me. “Let’
s go outside and walk a bit to stretch your legs.” I slip my feet into my Gucci slides and toss the cover aside, ignoring his hand.

  “Where is everyone else?” I ask him as I look around the empty bus. Everything is neat and in its place. This is the second longest stretch we’ve been on; the last one was fifteen hours.

  “Out,” he says, walking to his bunk and grabbing a ball cap. He stretches it to hand it to me, and I just look at his hand. “We all remember what happened the last time you walked off the bus.”

  I roll my eyes and snatch the hat from him, remembering how, when I just walked off the bus thinking nothing of it, it took five minutes for a hundred people to surround me. Brian lost his shit, trying to keep everyone calm, and he literally became the blocker. I signed a couple of autographs and posed for some selfies, but then he led me back on the bus. He also didn’t talk the rest of the way to the hotel, but the vein in his head keep popping. The girls made jokes the whole time, wondering if it would bust. The answer is no; it just grows bigger. I pull out the elastic holding my hair on top of my head, and it falls all around me. Grabbing it in my hand in the back, I tie a low ponytail at the base of my neck. As I put the hat on my head, it falls forward. “I guess your head really is huge.” I take the hat off to adjust it and then follow him off the bus. He waits for me, his hand going to my lower back.

  “Good call on the stop,” the driver says to him. “Under radar.” I look at him and then over at Brian who has put on his sunglasses so I can’t see his eyes.

  “Glad I could help,” Brian says, ushering me toward what looks like a diner.

  “What is all that about?” I ask him when we get to the diner. When he opens the glass door, the bells hanging over it chime. Walking inside, I see the girls sitting at the counter on the back wall. Booths line the right and left side of the wall. I walk to the counter and sit on one of the red vinyl seats right next to Cori. “What is that smell?” I ask her, looking around. There is a fridge with pies in it, and on the counter at both ends are cakes on top of a plate with a plastic cover over it.