and hours of open road. This day wouldn’t be a loss after all.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ariel froze in the dark wings of the university’s theater, staring at her phone. The only thing worse than being yelled at by your boss in person? Getting that same dressing down over email, when you couldn’t defend yourself or try to argue back. She sighed.
“Hey. A general rule for sneaking around trying not to get caught—don’t stop where it’s still easy to be spotted.” Dylan gave her a gentle nudge with his elbow.
“Sorry.” She pocketed the phone and followed him across the shadowy backstage area to a narrow ladder on the cinderblock wall.
“Want to tell me what that was about?”
Yes. Ariel kind of desperately did. Talking to Dylan was so easy. He actually listened, unlike so many of the Hollywood types she had dated who only talked…and only about themselves. But she didn’t want him to think of her as whiny, either. “Won’t talking about real life ruin our naughty secret-sex vibe?”
“We haven’t started the sexy part yet. And if you’ve got something bothering you, I want to help. Up you go.” Dylan slapped her butt to get her moving up the ladder. The thin rungs weren’t the easiest things to grasp or keep her footing. Maybe talking would distract her from the thought of plummeting from the fly space down to the stage with a big splat.
“It was an email from my boss. While Bart loved that I raffled you off at the Boulder and Denver concerts, he thinks it wasn’t enough.”
“It sure felt like enough to me. Being stuck with three strangers three nights in a row was some of the hardest work I’ve ever done. Especially keeping them from pawing at me.”
Only Dylan would complain about beautiful women wanting to make out with him. It cracked her up. “Oh, you poor, too-hot-for-his-own-good rock star. Whatever shall we do about harnessing all that sexual chemistry you throw off?”
“I’ve got some good ideas.” Dylan ran a hand up the inside of her bare thigh, making her squeal. “What about those pics of me at the brewery in Glenwood Springs?”
They’d made a special stop just for a photo op. Dylan embracing the giant kettles where they brewed the beer. Then all of Riptide went over to the hot springs and splashed around with growlers of the beer. It was nobody’s idea of a good time to sit in a hot spring in the middle of summer, but the pictures were great. Fun. Totally sexy, with all the guys showing off their bare chests, dripping water. Well, two of them were sexy. Ariel refused to look at her brother like that, even with her official publicist hat on.
“Bart called it a start. A slow start, actually.”
“Why do I get the feeling your boss won’t be happy until I get arrested and he’s got a mug shot of me along with a promise of the inside story of my night behind bars to sell to the highest bidder?”
“That about sums it up. My old company—the one that fired me for being too close to an ethical scandal—would never play so dirty. But my new boss does. He’s sort of famous for lowering the bar of good standards in the industry.”
“And you like working for him?”
Not in the slightest. “I like working. After looking for a job for a year straight, I couldn’t afford to be picky.”
“But in a perfect world, that wouldn’t be your style?”
“No. Absolutely not. I’ve been on the inside for too long. Seen how intrusive the paparazzi can be. Seen how horrible and mean tabloids can be. It’s amazing how ruthless people are when they’re hidden behind a fake name on the Internet. You know the adage there is no such thing as bad publicity? I don’t believe that for a second. However, it’s practically my company’s motto.”
“You’re stooping to their level.”
Yes. No matter how much she hated herself for it. Staking out the moral high ground didn’t buy a girl sassy shoes. Let alone pay
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ariel froze in the dark wings of the university’s theater, staring at her phone. The only thing worse than being yelled at by your boss in person? Getting that same dressing down over email, when you couldn’t defend yourself or try to argue back. She sighed.
“Hey. A general rule for sneaking around trying not to get caught—don’t stop where it’s still easy to be spotted.” Dylan gave her a gentle nudge with his elbow.
“Sorry.” She pocketed the phone and followed him across the shadowy backstage area to a narrow ladder on the cinderblock wall.
“Want to tell me what that was about?”
Yes. Ariel kind of desperately did. Talking to Dylan was so easy. He actually listened, unlike so many of the Hollywood types she had dated who only talked…and only about themselves. But she didn’t want him to think of her as whiny, either. “Won’t talking about real life ruin our naughty secret-sex vibe?”
“We haven’t started the sexy part yet. And if you’ve got something bothering you, I want to help. Up you go.” Dylan slapped her butt to get her moving up the ladder. The thin rungs weren’t the easiest things to grasp or keep her footing. Maybe talking would distract her from the thought of plummeting from the fly space down to the stage with a big splat.
“It was an email from my boss. While Bart loved that I raffled you off at the Boulder and Denver concerts, he thinks it wasn’t enough.”
“It sure felt like enough to me. Being stuck with three strangers three nights in a row was some of the hardest work I’ve ever done. Especially keeping them from pawing at me.”
Only Dylan would complain about beautiful women wanting to make out with him. It cracked her up. “Oh, you poor, too-hot-for-his-own-good rock star. Whatever shall we do about harnessing all that sexual chemistry you throw off?”
“I’ve got some good ideas.” Dylan ran a hand up the inside of her bare thigh, making her squeal. “What about those pics of me at the brewery in Glenwood Springs?”
They’d made a special stop just for a photo op. Dylan embracing the giant kettles where they brewed the beer. Then all of Riptide went over to the hot springs and splashed around with growlers of the beer. It was nobody’s idea of a good time to sit in a hot spring in the middle of summer, but the pictures were great. Fun. Totally sexy, with all the guys showing off their bare chests, dripping water. Well, two of them were sexy. Ariel refused to look at her brother like that, even with her official publicist hat on.
“Bart called it a start. A slow start, actually.”
“Why do I get the feeling your boss won’t be happy until I get arrested and he’s got a mug shot of me along with a promise of the inside story of my night behind bars to sell to the highest bidder?”
“That about sums it up. My old company—the one that fired me for being too close to an ethical scandal—would never play so dirty. But my new boss does. He’s sort of famous for lowering the bar of good standards in the industry.”
“And you like working for him?”
Not in the slightest. “I like working. After looking for a job for a year straight, I couldn’t afford to be picky.”
“But in a perfect world, that wouldn’t be your style?”
“No. Absolutely not. I’ve been on the inside for too long. Seen how intrusive the paparazzi can be. Seen how horrible and mean tabloids can be. It’s amazing how ruthless people are when they’re hidden behind a fake name on the Internet. You know the adage there is no such thing as bad publicity? I don’t believe that for a second. However, it’s practically my company’s motto.”
“You’re stooping to their level.”
Yes. No matter how much she hated herself for it. Staking out the moral high ground didn’t buy a girl sassy shoes. Let alone pay
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