Page 104 of Unguarded

I used to ask her to join me for some of the dates on the road, but she would end up getting angry and flying off the handle after watching me be in the spotlight for too long. My mother loves me in her own way, but she likes to use my status as a celebrity for clout and to make friends while keeping me at a distance. If I’m too close, she envies the way I steal the attention. She’ll attend awards shows in hopes of the cameras panning to her and more people recognizing her when she’s out. The red-carpet-walk photo will be her new profile picture, but only if they take it of her alone, without me in it. I feel like she’s constantly trying to prove to herselfand to the world that she deserves to be where she is now, despite having a famous daughter. Marrying a millionaire who died an untimely death a few years ago has helped her join a crowd she was never welcome in before.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. I know you’re busy. Is anyone interesting going to be at our table tonight? I really want a photo with Tim McGraw and Faith Hill this year.”

“You’ll have to ask Ember. I don’t remember who we’re sitting with.”

My focus has been a dumpster fire this week. I can’t keep my mind on anything, except for obsessively checking my phone screen every hour. I tap it again, sighing when I see the only people who have reached out are Katherine and my designer for tonight.

No matter how hard I try not to, I keep crying myself to sleep. Cash checks in on me once a day, but other than that, I haven’t heard from him. It’s only been three days, but it feels likemonthssince I felt his hand wrapped around my waist, calluses scraping against my skin. I miss the feel of his lips on mine, his exhale on my ear, his weight pressing me into his mattress.

I have to be patient and give him time to decide. He’s confessed his love for me, but hasn’t said anything about a future or an official relationship. Once he leaves the bubble of the ranch and gets back into the madness of my life, he could change his mind…

I lift my chin as Ember opens the door, marching into the suite with a team of hair and makeup artists in her wake. She claps her hands together.

“Ladies! I hope you got your beauty sleep. Hey, Ms.Morrigan. You look younger every time I see you. What’s the secret to reverse aging?” Ember smiles at my mom.

My mother laughs, waving Ember off with a shake of her blonde head.

Brooks is right on the heels of the team, striding in with a somber expression. Whatever flirtation was going on between him and Ember has long dissipated. I haven’t asked him what happened, but she told me that he was talking to other women behind her back. For some reason, I find that hard to believe, but I don’t know why she would lie to me about it.

“Food should be here in ten, and theVoguestylist is coming in three hours with your dresses.” Ember taps on her iPad while talking. Her violet-red hair shines with a fresh color job. She smiles up at me. “Need anything else?”

I shake my head. “No, thanks. I’m good.”

Ember smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Mom is chatting with the makeup artist who’s setting up her products to get started. The hairstylist is doing the same. I go take my seat, inspecting my recently manicured nails.

“I’ve got to go meet the caterer downstairs. I’ll be back in a jiff.” Ember exits.

My eyes trail over to where Brooks is standing near the door. He’s in his soldier stance, eyes surveying the hair and makeup artists. I find myself standing to walk over toward him.

He nods. “Ma’am.”

“I have a question for you.”

He stiffens. “Okay.”

I lower my voice and lean closer to him. “Have you heard from Cash?”

His jaw flexes as his eyes meet mine. “I just talked to him.”

I stand up straighter. “Well, what did he say?”

“He asked me to keep a close eye on you and not to quit yet.”

“You were going to quit?”

He nods.

“Why?”

He clears his throat, looking around the room. “It’s not the job. It’s Ember.”

“I get it. What happened between you two?”

He looks at me like I’ve grown two heads. “She was sleeping with someone else the entire time.” He shrugs. “She played me.”

I study his face for a moment, trying to determine if he’s telling the truth. I don’t detect any hint of a lie.

“Who was it? Someone on the tour?”

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