Page 37 of Stuck With My Rockstar Boss
“I was just as much a part of it as she was,” I say hurriedly. “And I’m saying it’s okay. So, why does it matter what her contract says?”
“It’s the label, kid. They don’t want you mixing business and pleasure more than they know you already will, you pick up what I’m putting down?”
I glance at the guys with desperation. “Ken, we need her. Who will do ‘Vicky’?”
“Crystal or Lee. Or the new girl. Cut it from tonight’s show and then we arrange some rehearsals.”
“We’re not performing without her,” Dylan says suddenly. He looks to Chase and Jay. “Right, guys?”
My jaw drops.
Jay crosses his arms. “No way.”
“Yeah, we’re not going on without Mika,” Chase agrees.
I lower my voice so the phone doesn’t pick it up as clearly. “Guys, you don’t have to do this.”
“Of course, we do,” Dylan says stalwartly. I swear, there’s the littlest smile on his face.
Ken sighs. “Guys, please don’t make my job harder than it already is.”
“Sorry, Ken. This is what you get for working with rockstars,” Jay says cheekily.
Ken grumbles under his breath, but it’s garbled over the phone. “Well. Even if I wanted to help you, I couldn’t. She’s already on a plane to Houston.”
I look at the guys alarmedly.
Dylan doesn’t miss a beat. “Where, Ken? Give me all the details. Now.”
That’s how we end up piled in the rental car, speeding to the San Francisco International Airport. Chase is behind the wheel; he’s the best driver and has a knack for being able to speed and avoid getting caught. Jay continues calling Mika nonstop from the passenger seat.
In the backseat, Dylan sits with me. I am quiet, flipping my phone over and over again in my hand.
“We’ll get her back, man,” he whispers to me.
And that’s all I need to stay resolute. My best friend reminding me that things will work out. And that he’s totally on my side.
We’re at SFO in record time. Chase leaves the car in departures with the blinkers on. “Fuck it. If we get towed, the label will pick it up,” he says with a maniacal laugh.
We all rush in, and it feels sort of like we’re a bunch of kids again. Like Stand By Me or the gang from Scooby-Doo. Me and my boys. Fighting for me. Fuck, I really owe them. We go to the check-in counter and all start speaking at once to the poor woman behind the desk.
“Houston! What are the flights to Houston today?”
The woman scrolls through her computer, much to slow for my taste, but there’s only so far you can push a disgruntled airline employee. “Mmm… the next one isn’t until this evening. One just departed about ten minutes ago.”
I feel all the air go out of me like a balloon. Ten minutes. I missed her by ten minutes. I’ll have to wait until she lands or something. “Are there any airlines heading to Houston sooner?” I ask frantically.
“I don’t have that information,” she says with a face that indicates I’m a total idiot.
“Lucas!” Jay suddenly shouts, grabbing my arm.
“Just a second,” I wave him off.
“No, look!”
Jay points across the entrance hall to a bench where a woman sits crumpled over herself, her legs drawn up, a big purple suitcase on the floor before her. Mika. I’d recognize her anywhere, even with her head in her hands.
I forgo any pleasantries with the airline employee, leaving that to the guys and break into a run. “Mika!”
