Idol (VIP, #1)(64)

“That’s right.”

“Lucky you.” Zelda nudges my shoulder with hers as if we’re old friends. “Out of all the guys, there’s something about Killian. He’s delicious in that bad boy, charm-your-panties-off kind of way.”

“I try not to think of the guys that way,” I tell her, lying through my teeth, because her description is on point. “I have to work with them.”

“Are you telling me you aren’t f*cking him?”

Her blunt question comes at me like a punch, and I recoil. “Excuse me?”

Zelda gives me a smile that’s all teeth. “Sorry. I’m pretty blunt with my words after all these years in this business. But honestly? Killian James is infamous for being irresistible. And there are the facts. First you’re neighbors, and then he’s bringing you, a complete novice, on tour with him.”

My heart thuds against my ribs. It’s not like I should be shocked; she’s saying everything I’ve warned Killian about. Almost verbatim. Expected observation or not, the humiliation I feel at being looked upon as nothing more than Killian’s whore, is nearly crippling.

And then I get angry—at myself for predicting this, at her for thinking the same thing.

I give her a long look, watching her fight not to squirm. “You’re kind of young to be a reporter assigned to Kill John.”

“What are you talking about? I’m twenty-six, which is probably older than most of these groupies.”

“Yeah, but they’re here for one thing. Are you too? Because most of the other reporters I’ve met are men in their thirties, at the very least.”

Zelda’s eyes narrow. “It’s a tough business.”

“And a girl’s got to use whatever assets she can to rise, is that it? Is that how you got here, Ms. Smith?”

“Oh, I get it. Shaming me, are you? It was a valid question, you know. You’re linked with James. No one has ever heard of you before now. I have to wonder—”

“If I f*cked my way in? Of course you do. Because that’s what everyone wonders about attractive, successful women, don’t they? Did we get here on talent or by spreading our legs? If I was a man, would you ask the same?”

“Killian hasn’t been known to like men.”

“And that’s the reason you didn’t ask.”

Her mouth purses. “Point taken.”

“Here’s an exclusive for you, as honestly as I can put it.” I lean close. “Killian had to talk me into doing this. Because I told him people would make ugly assumptions about him bringing an unknown on tour with Kill John. But if you truly do know anything about him, you’ll know that he is stubborn as the day is long. And that for Killian, his love of music and what works for his band trumps any threat of stupid rumors.”

“You’re quite loyal to him, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am. He gave me a chance few others would dare. Every member of Kill John did.” I feed her the standard press line with a placid smile on my face. “Which is why it’s a joy to work with them and contribute in any way I can.” I stand and smooth my skirt. “Have a nice night. I hope you enjoy the movie.”

She doesn’t say anything but follows my progress with her beady eyes as I head for the movie theater. And I pretend that my insides aren’t shaking from the cracks in my pride.





Chapter Twenty





Killian



One good thing about being a rock star? Diva moments are not only expected, they’re never questioned. For once, I take full advantage of that as I enter the theater and make my way to the back row to claim a spot. My immense scowl wards off anyone who thinks of joining me.

I’m scrolling through my phone when someone plops down in the seat next to me. Whatever send-off I’d planned to say dies with I see it’s Libby. She’s carrying a big bag of caramel corn and a bottle of water.

“Libs,” I say in greeting.

“I can’t believe we’re going to see The Force Awakens. I missed it when it first came out.”

“My little hermit. When was the last time you actually saw a movie in a theater?”

She stuffs a handful of caramel corn in her mouth before muttering, “Shut up.”

I help myself to some caramel corn…definitely better than movie quality. “You can thank Scottie for tonight’s pick. He’s a massive Star Wars geek.”

“No,” she breathes, scandalized. “That’s so…”

“Human? Yeah, I was surprised too.” I love Scottie. He’s my rock in this business. But the dude is twenty-eight going on eighty. Half the time I expect him to wave a cane and shout at us to get off his lawn.

He’s staked a claim in the middle of the middle row and, like me, is giving anyone who approaches a death glare.

Libby tucks her water bottle into the snack holder at her side.

“Can you believe this place?” With big eyes, she glances around at the fiber optic art on the walls and the massive crystal chandeliers, and at the rows of double seats that are basically meant for two. Her hands smooth over the wide leather armrest at her side. “I mean, reclining loveseats? Shut the front door.” With a little “Whoop!” she hits the button that lifts our shared footrest.