Page 15 of Hold Still

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Back at the front, I put my elbows onto the counter and lean in. “I need a tiny favor.” I raise my hands up, close together, indicating how small.

She laughs. “Sure thing. Do you want a dinner reservation at our sold-out restaurant? Or theatre tickets toMen Gone Wild? I wouldn’t judge you.”

I lick my lips. “Well, have you met any of those guys? I’m sure they could make an afternoon go by really quickly.” I throw in a wink for good measure.

She shakes her head. “I wish. They stay in the back of the house. I caught their show a couple of times, though.” She fans her face.

I laugh. It’s my first real laugh in a long time, and I almost forgot how good it feels. “Nah. Nothing like that. I only need to know where Ozzy Martinez practices. I’m working on a submission for the Artist Avenue Adventure Project and I’ve been waiting on him for months.”

“Well, he’s got his own wild thing going on, if you know what I mean.” She waggles her eyebrows.

Yes, I do know. Intimately. I give her a fake scowl. “I’m here for business, Shelia.”

“Right.” She types on her computer. “He’s such a monster on the eyes.”

“If you like the Latin type.”

She continues typing so she doesn’t see my hands flex into fists. I open them out before she catches my reaction. The Latin type is what got me into the position I’m in now and I can’t revisit it.Won’t.

Shelia stops typing and looks at me over her computer monitor. She motions me forward. In a whisper, she says, “He practices in the conference room off the back of the stage where he performs. He also has a suite for the duration of his show, Penthouse Room 8H.”

“Conference room and 8H. Got it.”

“You won’t be able to get onto his floor without an elevator pass, though. And I can’t give one to you. I wish I could.”

“I totally understand. I’ll go check out the practice room. Hopefully, he’ll be there. What time is his show tonight?”

“Starts at eight.”

“Thanks so much. I really appreciate your help. When do you have a break for lunch? Maybe we can grab something.”

“I just started, so I don’t get my break until four.”

“Oh. I’ll probably be done well before then. Let’s do dinner, soon. Text me.”

“Will do.”

I reach over and give her another quick hug, then scurry away toward Ozzy’s conference room. He has a penthouse here. Must be nice never to have to worry about money.

After cutting through the casino, I walk past a beautiful display of humongous origami of all different shapes in shades of green. The color reminds me of Daddy’s eyes—such a distinctive shade. I smile picturing his face, and continue my trek. Finally, I end up at the hallway that leads to Ozzy’s stage. I try the main doors but they’re locked, so I wander down another hallway that appears to mirror the stage area.

Stopping in front of double doors, I reach out but the handle doesn’t budge. Shit. I look around and go down a smaller hallway and it dead ends with another door. I try it, but it’s locked too. I press my ear against the door and don’t hear anything, which means Ozzy’s not there. Turning, a tall guy with glasses and a clipboard walks toward me. Maybe he can help?

I meet him at the set of double doors I tried before. He has a key in his hand. “Hi!” I shout before he can slip through.

He looks at me, a smattering of freckles covering his nose. Pushing up his glasses, he returns my greeting in a wary voice.

I stick my hand out. “I’m McKenna James. I’m working on a project with Ozzy Martinez. Are you with him?”

He places the key into his back pocket and shakes my hand, eyeing me up and down. “Hi, Miss James.” He chuckles. “That’s a very good introduction you got there. Much more creative than most.”

I place my hand over my heart. “Goodness, what you must think of me. But you’ve got it wrong, I can assure you.” Been there, done that. Wouldn’t mind the T-shirt. I shake my head. “No, I’m with the Artist Avenue Adventure Project and I need to start collaborating with Ozzy about his part.”

“Oh.” He runs his hand through his ginger hair. He’s kinda cute, in an overworked sort of way. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by what I said before.”

I wave my hand. “No worries. I bet you dodge this kind of thing all the time. Now, you’re with him, right?”

He pulls out the key, opens the doors and ushers me inside. “Yes, I’m his personal assistant. He was out of state yesterday, so he hasn’t arrived quite yet.”