Page 41 of Wes

“Morning,” I acknowledge them with a weak smile.

Nick sits on my left. His knee nudges mine. “What’s eating up?” He slants his head toward Erik who sits behind his desk. “We all know Mr. Sunshine over there has been on a dark mood since Christine dumped his ass.” The lead singer sneers at us, confirming his state of mind. Nick goes on, “But I expected better from you. I thought you had found your slice of paradise, like Logan.”

I exchange a glance with the bass player sitting in front of me. His smile can light up the stadiums we’ll be playing at.

“Logan does look giddy,” I note.

Kim leans forward and squeezes my knee. “I guess Nick’s point is you don’t.” She narrows her eyes. “Why don’t you?”

I nod. “You’re right. I’ve never been happier in my life. Except, I don’t feel like jumping with joy because this week has been awful for Maria. She’s pissed and sad. We haven’t been able to save the site where Welcoming Hills is located.”

Erik props his forearms on the desk. “That sucks. We’ve got to do something.”

“Absolutely.” Logan nods.

“Thank you, guys. I know how much her causes speaks to your journeys. I appreciate the concern; but there’s nothing else we can do. She’s now seeking a permit to move the kids temporarily to her home while her assistant scouts for new places.”

“We could buy the building so she wouldn’t have to leave,” Nick suggests.

Before I can explain, Kim states, “I guess Voss & Berkfield will build their headquarters in the lots they’ve already bought, right?” I nod at her. “So, it wouldn’t be advisable for Maria and the kids to stay there. That would force them to build around Welcoming Hills. Can you imagine the orphanage smack in the middle of a sprawling business complex with tall towers and busy traffic all around?

I reply, “Exactly. Maria could raise the money to buy the building, but the kids would be cut off from sunshine, fresh air, just to name two things. That would be unhealthy, stressful, so it’s not an option.”

Logan interjects, “We can’t do anything to save that property. Fine. But you said her solution is temporary. We can help her find a permanent one.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Erik interrupts. “All you’ve got to do is convince her to come with us on the road.”

My heart sinks to my stomach. “Maria has just recently admitted she likes spending time with one celebrity. Convincing her to tour with my band won’t be easy.” Four pairs of eyes squint at me. I raise my hands in the air. “I’ll do my best though.”

15

MARIA

Trish hands me the clothes I’ve piled up on the bed.

As I arrange them inside the suitcase, I mumble, “Tell me again, why did Wes convince me to do this?”

That question has been swirling in my brain like a damn twister for the past week. I don’t expect my assistant to have the answer though.

She provides one, nonetheless. “Because you need to take a break. No, you deserve some time off.”

“I can’t argue with that. But the kids–”

She interrupts me with a raised palm facing me. “Don’t even.”

I settle my makeup bag on top of the clothes, close the suitcase, and chuckle. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Seriously, though. You don’t need to worry about a thing. The kids love it in here. Nobody is too crammed.”

“I worried about that,” I confess as I glance on the mirror for a last check-up.

In jeans, a white T-shirt and black leather jacket I’m the stereotype of a groupie. No time to change the outfit. Fred will arrive at any time. I would have preferred to ride in my own town car with my own driver, but Wes insisted on sending his.

Trish’s voice breaks my reverie. “I know. You worry too much about everything.” She hugs me tight and kisses my cheek before stepping back. “We’ll miss you like crazy. I’m so jealous you’ll get to hang out with Muse of Darkness. But now, off you go! Have some well-deserved fun. I’ve got this.”

When I get out of the house and Fred opens the door of the limousine for me, I understand why Wes didn’t want me to go alone. The gorgeous drummer sits inside holding a silver balloon that takes up all the space between his legs and his head. Shaped like a heart, it has the sentence– “Maria, thanks for touring with my band. You rock.”–printed in red letters.

Wes releases the balloon inside the car and stretches his hand to me. He scoots over to give me space as I step inside, but not much. Our thighs touch when I lower myself onto the cream leather seat. My cheeks hurt with the silly grin I’m sporting.

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