"No. I told you before, I'm not going to talk about that." It was bad enough the world knew she'd been homeless for a while. The last thing she could bear was for everyone to discover that her mother had never loved her.
Ben's sigh filtered down the line. "If you ever come to your senses I'll put the proper spin on all the shit that's been flying around. Until then I thought if you had to have an escort, you might at least prefer someone who was once good to you."
"Right this minute, Ben, I regret telling you about him at all." She'd only done so because he'd insisted on hearing everything that might be used against her. Revealing that time in her life had led to mentioning the boy who'd kept a scared-to-death thirteen-year-old girl from losing all hope. That, in turn, had given her such a warm, fuzzy rush that she'd then confided how John Miglionni and Jared's sister, Tori, had rescued them.
"The truth is, I didn't expect your old friend to be assigned to the case. A business like mine doesn't generate the need to locate private eyes or security specialists as a rule. But when this came up I remembered you mentioning the Semper Fi agency, and I thought it might at least be a place to start."
Well, I guess that'll teach me to be so damn chatty,she thought bitterly.
"I actually had the owner in mind to handle this-figuring someone you once admired might make the situation more bearable. I didn't know Hamilton worked there until Miglionni called to let me know how the agency planned to handle the assignment," Ben said. "And I'm sorry for the necessity, Priscilla, but Wild Wind insists. This is your big break-"
"I thought that was when I won the Grammy."
"That was yourfirst break. This tour is the one that's going to put you on the map. So I'm afraid you're just going to have to suck it up and do what your label wants."
She managed to hang on to her temper long enough to get off the phone, but she was seething by the time she hung up.
She'd worked one job or another since she was fifteen years old. She had been the family breadwinner more often than not, and WildWind dared suggest she couldn't be trusted to show up for a series of contracted concerts?
Staring out the window, she scowled at Jared, who lounged against the wall on the shady side of the court, his hands in his pockets and one foot propped against the faded cinderblock. He had an eye on her room and, catching her peering out the window, he straightened and headed across the lot.
Her spine snapped as straight and steely as a length of rebar. Enough was enough. Mama was sufficient trouble all on her own-P.J. didn't need the embarrassment of a watchdog on top of it.
She'd had it with handlers and people telling her what to do. She wasn't stupid-singing was the only thing she could call her own and she had every intention of showing up for her shows.
But the tour didn't start for a couple weeks, and she needed some alone time to lick her wounds and get centered and focused before it began. She sure as hell didn't need her one-time best friend to herd her toward her first gig like a blue heeler with one calf. And while it appeared she had no choice but to put up with him once the tour began, she saw no reason to tolerate his escort until then.
So let him catch up with her in Portland. Because the first opportunity she got, she was shaking Jared Hamilton from her heels like the dust of all those dinky towns she'd left behind.
CHAPTER TWO
Mama claims Priscilla Jayne has a history of running away when the going gets tough. Stay tuned for our interview with Jodeen Morgan following our eye-in-the-sky traffic report.
STANDING IN THE Wind Blew Inn parking lot, Jared thought for sure the feeble light from the quarter moon riding the western sky was playing tricks on his eyes. His gut said it wasn't, however, and staring at the four flat tires on his rented Lexus, he swore like a sailor and kicked one of the hubcaps above the flattened rubber.
Then his reaction brought him up short. What the hell was he doing? He didn't lose control-he jumped head-first into the fray and didn't stop swinging until he came out on top. Pissing and moaning and kicking tires wasn't going to get the job done. Pulling his cell phone from a pocket, he punched in the Semper Fi agency's number.
But the minute he heard his brother-in-law's voice, his frustration boiled over. "She ditched me," he snarled. "Do you believe this? It hasn't even been one full day and she frigging ditched me!"
There was an instant of silence, then Rocket let loose a big belly laugh. "I always did like that girl."
"Sure, yuk it up.I'm real amused, I can tell you."
"I can hear that." Rocket's voice sobered, but Jared was pretty sure he could still hear amusement lacing its undertones. "What happened?"
"She played me like a goddamn Stradivarius." And how. From the moment she'd opened the door of that dingy little motel room and taken a flying leap to wrap herself around him like a chimp in a monkey-puzzle tree, he'd been hammered by memories.
Of her saving his life fifteen years ago by showing him the ropes when he'd fled Colorado Springs for the streets of Denver-even though she, like everyone else in their Centennial State, had believed he'd killed his father.
Of her pedal-to-the-metal personality-that what-you-see-is-what-you-get emotionality that had been the primary characteristic of the thirteen-year-old he'd known.
Of the crushing guilt he'd once felt for the random flashes of lust that her underfed, flat-chested little body had inspired in him.
She was still slight of build and her breasts were probably little more than a mouthful even now. But her arms and legs were rounder and her collarbones had lost that half-starved scrawniness they'd had. And she had a surprisingly full, round ass. His palms still retained the luxurious feel of its curves resting in his hands.
"You're not an easy guy to play," Rocket said slowly. "So how did P.J. manage it?"
Tucking the phone between his ear and shoulder, Jared rubbed his palms down the outer seams of his Levi's to rid himself of the memory. He no longer needed to feel guilty about whatever attraction P.J. might hold for him, but he wasn't about to act on it, either. He was a professional and he had a job to do.
Yeah, right. Some professional, hotshot. She shook you off without breaking a sweat.He squared his shoulders. Fine then. He didn't mix business and pleasure. "I forgot the cardinal rule," he admitted.
"Let your guard down, did you?"
"Big-time. She was so happy to see me until I told her why I was there." That still blew him away, the way her face had gone incandescent when she'd first opened the door and seen him standing on her stoop. As if she hadn't been the one to cut him out of her life. "Then, when she discovered her record company had hired me to accompany her to her concerts, she was pissed. But she got over it-or so I thought. The minute I relaxed my guard, though, she ditched my ass."
"Big deal, so you made a mistake and treated her like the average missing person," John said easily. "Anyone would have done the same."
"You wouldn't."
"Yeah, I probably would have. I only saw P.J. a few times fifteen years ago and still she stands out in my memory. I've never forgotten that feisty independence. But you know what really sticks in my mind? What a sweet little nougat she was. She might have acted all tough on the outside, but she had that break-your-heart vulnerable center. It's easy to forget how street-savvy and fast on her feet she could be."
"That's a fact. But while I don't disagree about the girl she used to be, Rocket, it wasn't you she made a fool of. So P.J. had better hope she's a damn sight faster than me," Jared said grimly. "Because I've got a job to do and no one-not an old friend and sure as hell no up-and-coming country diva with a reputation for unreliability-is going to get in the way of my doing it."