Page 14 of How to Catch a Rockstar

“You are entirely too nice, Stan.”

“Don’t tell my wife,” he mutters and hangs up without another word.

I set my phone down before making my way to the kitchen. I need coffee. Lots and lots of coffee, to deal with the ramifications of what I’ve done. What we’ve done.

Jett and I were already at loggerheads most of the time. I don’t think I improved the situation when I practically begged him to have sex with me.

I moan and drop my forehead to the kitchen counter. I’m such an idiot. Every PA of a rock band knows not to get involved with a member of the band. It’s the first and most important rule of band management. And I blew the rule to smithereens.

I hope Mike doesn’t fire me when he finds out. And I do mean when. The band manager has his finger on the pulse of all gossip revolving around celebrities. He’ll sniff out the truth soon enough.

My phone rings and I lift my head to glance at it. Mike calling.

Awesome. Just awesome.

“Where the hell is Jett?” Mike asks the second I answer the phone.

Don’t I wish I knew.

“What do you mean?” I ask as I rush to open the band’s agenda on my phone.

“Don’t toy with me, Aurora. I’m not in the mood. I’ve got a hundred fans waiting to meet him.”

I read today’s agenda item. Fan Meet and Greet at Bertie’s Recording Studio.

Crap. Bertie’s is in Winter Falls in Colorado. We’re in San Diego several states away.

I really dropped the ball here. I forgot all about the event when I brought Jett home from the hospital. I didn’t bother to consult my agenda. Some PA I am.

“According to his security, Jett boarded his plane on time,” I hedge since I have no idea what plane Jett boarded or to where.

“He better be here soon or I’ll have your ass in a sling.”

I gulp. Mike’s threatened to fire me more times than I can remember. The man has a temper.

Usually, I don’t worry about it since I rarely make mistakes. But this time I made the biggest mistake of them all.

My phone beeps with a message.

Sorry, Aurora. Last night should have never happened.

I grit my teeth as my anger flares. Thanks for the reminder, asshole. He couldn’t have said he had a good time but it couldn’t happen again? Nope. He has to make our night together out to be a mistake.

Where are you?

I don’t expect him to respond. He never does to me.

“I’ve messaged him, but he’s not responding,” I tell Mike now.

“He’s not responding to me either. Where the hell is he? You were supposed to be watching over him while he did this stupid surfing competition thing.”

“I’m not his babysitter.”

Mike grunts. “Think again, Aurora. Think again.”

“I’ll let you know if I hear from him.”

“I’ll make some calls.” He hangs up without another word.

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