Page 21 of Covert Affair

“Jesus, Cole. I…I don’t know about this. The last damn thing I want to do is deal with people like Stacey Mae on a daily basis.” Her name slips out and I do my best not to visibly wince. The last thing I need is these two riding my ass about her again.

“You said she wasn’t that bad,” Molly calls me out with a laugh.

“Doesn’t mean I want to work with her or people like her everyday,” I counter.

“Who says you will be? You’ll be in charge. You’ll be the one behind a desk just like this, running the show,” Cole digs deeper.

“And dealing with all of the shit that rolls down hill when it hits the fan,” I squeeze the back of my neck with my free hand while Heidi lets out a little snore on my shoulder. Peacefully asleep and blissfully unaware that her father is trying to send her favorite person over six hours away.

“Think about it. At least do that much. I sent you an email with a full proposal. Look it over and take some time to work it out in your head,” Cole says. “Don’t you think it’s time for you to fly, Little Brother?”

What I wouldn't give to smack my brother upside the head right now. Instead, I stand and cradle his baby girl against my chest. “Oh, I’m going to fly. Right out of here and to my office so you two can canoodle or whatever it is you’re planning on.”

Cole chuckles and adds, “Shut the door behind you,” when I’m halfway out the door.

Could I do it?

Could I really move hundreds of miles away from the little girl in my arms? From my family…biological or otherwise?

I damn sure had a lot to think about.

11

STACEY MAE

“Thank you Tallahassee!”I exclaim into the mic after my encore.

The crowd roars and the stage lights go out as I disappear backstage.

Surrounded by my team, I’m quickly ushered through the arena and into a town car that's set to take me to a nearby hotel where I’m staying for the night before catching a flight overseas for a charity concert in Herefirth. Riding the adrenaline high of a sold out crowd tonight and knowing I get to meet a real life King and Queen in two days has me feeling like I’m on top of the world.

And for the first time since I started dating Waylon, I wish I had someone else to share my excitement with. Someone that I hoped would have showed up at the show tonight. Wishful thinking on my part.

Even if he did show up, it’s not like I reached out and told him I’d leave tickets for him at Will Call or anything, and what were the odds that if he did buy his own tickets that he’d be close enough to the stage that I’d actually spot him. Maybe he was there and I had no idea.

Thoughts of Cody vanish the minute I look up and spot my boyfriend waiting for me in the backseat with a demonic grin on his face. I hated that fucking grin since the first time he used it agaisnt me. It’s a grin that reeks of trouble and power. It screams that he’s going to get his way, come hell or high water. And this time it’s directed at me.

I thought Waylon Ellison could be my soulmate. My one true-love. That bullshit fairytale that they sell to little girls. A fairytale that I’ve written about in my songs. I thought I’d found a love like the kind my grandparents had. But what I quickly discovered is that the man I thought I (abiet quickly) fell in love with, is nothing more than a fraud with an ego bigger than his brain. That little revelation couldn’t have come at a worse time.

A fraud who has tangled me so tightly in his web that there is no getting out. No matter how hard I try. And believe me, I’ve tried before. Waylon has made it abundantly clear that splitting up isn’t an option and he’s alluded to the fact that he’d rather see me dead. Not that I think he’s stupid enough to take things but you never know what’s going to make a person snap and do something stupid. It happens often enough in Hollywood.

A brazen idea hits me and I have to hold back my emotions so I don’t tip Waylon off.

He leans across the seat and kisses my cheek, making me cringe. “Wonderful performance tonight. The response to Summertime Vibes is promising.”

Summertime Vibes, the next single off my album. A song that I loved so much until Waylon sucked the life right out of it by nearly destroying my spirit in the recording booth a few months ago.

“Yeah. Promising.” I grumble discontentedly.

“What’s the attitude about, Sourpuss?” This time his speech slurs and I realize he’s been drinking. Again.

Great. He’s always in such a great mood when he’s been drinking. His words get meaner and his grip gets a little tighter when he’s had one too many.

Before I have a chance to respond he reaches over and squeezes my cheeks firm enough that I know I’ll be covering up fingerprints tomorrow. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Fed up with his bullshit, I grab his wrist and try behavior.

“You’ve got exactly two seconds to get your hands off of me,” I warn him.

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