Ian laughed. “Keepin’ the love alive,” he said.
“You’re not the only one!” Randy pointed to the screen behind Beckham.
Beckham watched, stunned, as two pictures of him with Roxie flashed in slow succession. Both pictures showed them locked in a passionate kiss, but one was especially explicit. All he saw was tongues. Roxie would kill him. He turned and tried to see her reaction, but the lights were too bright.
“Bastard!” came out of Beckham’s mouth before he could stop it. He wanted to first wring the restaurant manager’s neck for basically handing the photographer a perfect shot and then have a go at the guy in front of him. “What kind of show is this?”
Randy laughed at Beckham, as if they were in on a joke together. His smile dimmed somewhat when he saw the look in Beckham’s eyes, and he started talking quickly to cover the awkward pause that filled the air.
“What happens in Vegas doesn’t always stay in Vegas,” he said with a nervous chuckle. “It’s great to see you dating again. There’s been a long lull, hasn’t there? You haven’t really been linked with anyone since … your rehab stint. Who’s the lucky lady?”
“I’m here to talk about the show tonight. 8 p.m. at MGM Grand. Hope to see you there,” he said to the camera, paused a moment, and then pulled off his lapel mic.
Randy frantically motioned for the cameraman to cut. His expression was panicked until the camera turned to Ian. Randy’s face suddenly brightened with his phony smile.
“So how does your wife handle all the groupies? I know they must come out in the droves with both you and Beckham.”
Ian sat back in his seat, crossed his arms, and stared down the host. He didn’t say a word. The man began fidgeting. Sweat beaded on his forehead and upper lip.
“So the music…” he started.
“There we go,” Ian leaned forward, “that’s the direction you take in interviewing a musician. What do you want to know?”
“I-uh, what have you learned musically from Beckham and what do you think he’s learned from you?”
“I’ve learned that I suck as a dancer, unlike Beckham. And musically, playing with someone as talented as Beckham makes anyone better. Pushes me to work harder.” He shrugged. “You’d have to ask him what he’s learned from me.” He gave the host a shit-eating grin that was not returned.
“Thanks for your time today. Ian Sterling, everyone. Make sure you come out to see Ian and Beckham Woods tonight. After the commercial, we’ll…”
The producer rushed as far forward as he could without being in the shot. He was shaking his head and sliding a hand across his throat.
“We’ll b-be back,” Randy stuttered. His shoulders drooped when the commercial started. “I thought they were singing,” he said to the producer and waved an arm toward Ian.
Ian was already taking off his microphone. “Doesn’t look like we’ll be singing today,” he said. “Jerky thing to do, man, bringing up rehab and then pictures of an obviously private moment? Not cool.”
Randy sneered, nothing close to a smile, phony or otherwise.
Ian shook his head, gave him the bird, and stalked off.
The band and Roxie were on the sidelines, watching everything. Beckham was pacing the hall by the exit. No one said a word. They filed out behind him and crawled back into the limo. Somehow Beckham ended up by Roxie.
“Shit, I coulda slept longer,” Taz joked.
T.J. bopped him on the head. “Shut up, Taz.”
They all looked at Beckham and Roxie. She flushed and looked out the window.
“I’m really sorry, Roxie,” Beckham said softly.
She looked at him and barely nodded. “I know you didn’t mean for that to happen.”
He leaned his head back on the seat and pulled out his cell phone. He had a few voicemails and texts waiting. He texted Howie, even though Howie was in the limo with him.
We need more security. 24 hrs. Extra on Roxie.
Howie checked his phone then looked at Beckham and gave a subtle nod.
As soon as they got back, he went straight to his bus. There was a room booked for him at MGM, but he’d given it to Sierra. He went and stretched out on his bed and called Nate.
“Hey, there you are. Was trying to catch you before you went on the show.”
“Pictures of me with Roxie—are they everywhere?”
“Yep.”
He let out a string of curses as he got up and paced the bus.
“I like this girl, Nate. I don’t want to scare her off. She’s not even sure she likes me most days.”
“Well, that’s a twist,” Nate said. “Maybe we’ll keep her.”
“Shut up.”
He laughed. “So … I’ve gotta ask. I’m assuming Roxie is the one you called about before the tour—is that right?”
Beckham was quiet. “I forgot about that,” he finally said.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Listen, there are a few ways to play this. You can either wait for it to die down, which means don’t get caught with her again. Or, you can just enjoy your tour and not worry about it. Get your picture with some hot fans—or better yet, I heard Taylor Swift will be at tomorrow night’s show. We’ll get a picture and let that circulate a bit.”
“No way am I gonna get messed up in that. She’ll be writing a song about me,” Beckham scoffed.
“That wouldn’t be all bad,” Nate mused. “You know she’s always been hot for you.”
“Piss off, man,” he muttered. He pulled the phone away from his ear when Nate’s laugh got too loud. “Dude, really.”
Nate took a deep breath, but the laugh was still in his voice. “There’s always the last option, which I wouldn’t mind seeing…”
“What’s that?”
“Date Roxie and be out with it. You need a girlfriend, Beck. You’ve paid penance long enough.”
“I kissed her this morning, and believe me, it was not her idea.”
“Okay, just tell me how you want to spin this and I’ll get it started-” Nate paused.
“She’s got me all wrapped up…”
“You’ve got it bad.”
“Fuck me, I know it.”
Beckham looked for Roxie at dinner, but she wasn’t there. He saw Sierra grabbing three desserts and jogged over to her.
“Hey. Have you seen Roxie?”
“She’s in the bus. Hiding.” Sierra grinned.
“Is she mad at me?”
“Oh yeah, probably,” she said.
“Probably?”
“From what I’ve seen, she seems to stay mad at you.” She took a bite of cheesecake and pointed her fork at him. “I like this girl so much. And that was even before I knew just how tightly she had your balls in a vise.”
“Oh, you know what?” he groaned. “Don’t start, Sierra.”
She laughed.
“Just tell me … how do I get her out of the angry?”
“How much do you like her, Beck?” Sierra’s expression turned serious. “You know you’ve had enough notches on your bedpost…”
Beckham stared at her. “You too?” He ran his hands through his hair and glared at her. “Okay, I deserved that. But … seriously … mean.”
She shrugged and sampled the chocolate cake.
He shook his head. “She’s different. I want to get under her skin and know what makes her angry heart tick.”
She paused mid-bite.
“God, I know this is wrong to say because you’re my brother, but … that was kinda hot,” she finally said.
“Is everyone talking about it?” Roxie asked the minute she let Sierra on the bus.
Everyone was at dinner so she had the bus to herself.
“I might have heard a little buzz about it. Honestly, I think everyone thought you might be dating a while ago.”
Roxie tried to tackle her as she walked by and Sierra went sprawling on the bus floor.
“Ow! Dammit, Roxie!” Sierra yelled. “You don’t know me well enough for that yet!”