Loving Dallas(28)

“Dallas! Oh my God! You made it!” she squeals in my ear. “We have to get another picture together. My friend Allie is gonna take it. Smile!”

I force a quick grin just in time for the flash.

“Thanks! Come sit with us.” Her fingers clasp my free hand and she tugs.

“Actually I’m going to hang out with these guys,” I say, pulling free and nodding toward where Wade is.

“Nah. We’re good. Go ahead, Walker. We’ll save you a seat.” Wade winks like he’s doing me a favor. There’s amusement playing on his face.

“Will you sign some stuff for us? Pretty please?” Chandra pouts surgically enhanced plump lips at me. A few other parts of her appear to be surgically enhanced as well.

“Sure,” I say, relenting, and let her lead me to the table where her friends are.

It’s probably for the best that Robyn didn’t answer my texts. It’s not like I can ask her out on Friday night, take her to a movie, and all that for as long as we both shall live. I tell myself to be thankful for the memory of something real while I’m facing a future full of something fake.

As much as I hate to admit it, there is something flattering about the fact that Chandra wants my autograph and didn’t seem the least bit interested in Wade.

I’m just * enough to care.





16 | Robyn

WHEN KATIE TEXTS ME THAT SHE’S UPLOADED THE MEET-AND-GREET photos from the show in Kansas City, I can’t resist opening them on my flight back home.

My flight back to Dallas.

You know what’s a dumb idea? Living in a city with the same name as your ex-boyfriend.

The first set of photos is Wade and a long string of posed pictures with his adoring female fans. I forward the best ones to Harvey on the social media team with a note to post them to the Midnight Bay website, as well as the Facebook and Twitter accounts.

The next group shows Dallas and there are nearly as many fan photos. A candid shot Drew took of his line shows that it’s nearly as long as Jase’s. I’m happy for Dallas and I’m relieved to see he’s not the tour underdog. But a few of the women in some of the photos have my insides twisting into knots.

Some of them are drop-dead gorgeous and have their bodies plastered onto Dallas like cling wrap. One in particular wears an expression that makes me cringe.

He’s not yours, Robyn.

Right. He’s not.

As much as it pains me to do so, I include the smoking hot brunette picture in the ones of Dallas that I send to Harvey. It’s a really good picture and it shows how very desirable he is. I can do this. I can be an adult about working with my ex.

But I might print myself a copy of that photo and throw darts at it in my office just for fun.

“Eleven percent. How crazy is that?”

“What? What’s eleven percent?” I lift my head off my desk when Katie barges in. Thank goodness it was her and not one of the Martins that caught me napping.

“Were you asleep?”

“No.” My answer is negated by the giant yawn that follows.

“You all right?” Katie’s round blue eyes are filled with concern.

“I’m fine. Just tired. Between Denver and L.A. and my layover getting delayed, I got in really late last night. I’m just a little drained.”

“I wondered why I didn’t hear you come in. I might have some ginseng tea in the break room. Oh, and I have ginkgo drops in my purse.”

“Thanks. I promise I’m good. Just need some good old-fashioned caffeine and more rest.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. You were saying something about eleven percent when you came in and caught me drooling on my desk?”

Katie laughs. “Oh yeah. I just ran into Louis from the finance department. He said they’ve been tracking the numbers closely since the tour kicked off so that Mr. Martin could evaluate the effectiveness of sponsoring it. And apparently, since the ads started running the week before the Denver show, sales are already up eleven percent.”

“Wow.” Eleven percent is a much larger increase than what our standard advertising typically generates. And it’s only been a few weeks since the promos went out that showed us as a tour sponsor, so it’s even more impressive.

“Apparently Jase Wade fans are big bourbon drinkers.” Katie plops down in the seat across from my desk. “Who knew?”

“That’s fantastic. I’m going to email Louis really quick and see if I can get a copy of the exact numbers. Are we running any other ad campaigns right now?”

“Just the ‘Make the Right Call’ spots about calling for a ride if you’re too drunk to drive. And the print and digital promos we’ve been doing every month.”

I send a quick email to Louis with my request. But if this is correct, if being a sponsor on the Kickin’ Up Crazy tour is upping sales this much this quickly, it’s one of the highest returns on advertising investment we’ve ever seen.

Which means a few things. One being that this is a route we definitely want to continue taking, sponsoring tours. And the other I try not to think about. Because if I value this company and my job at all, the last thing I should be doing is engaging in an inappropriate relationship with someone on the tour.

If it got out that Dallas and I had a history, there would be all kinds of questions about why Midnight Bay was sponsoring the tour he just happened to be on. The nature of relationships between artists and sponsors should be of a strictly professional and business nature. The public discovering that we’d slept together in Denver would reflect poorly on Midnight Bay. It might not get me fired necessarily, but it would probably cause me to at least be questioned by my boss and possibly his sixty-two-year-old uncle about topics I never want to discuss with either of them. Ever.