Page 13 of Wine & Whiskey
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Max holdsup a thin tan folder as Nick steps into the foyer. “I’ve got the report on Shae.”
Glancing at his watch, Nick shakes his head. “I don’t want to be late. You can tell me on the way.”
They walk through the kitchen and into the garage before climbing in the Jeep. He pulls onto the road as Max reads from the file.
“Twenty-four. No boyfriend or husband. Broke up about a year ago with an Evan Matthews after dating him for two years. Her mom died from a brain aneurysm. Dad’s never been around. She rakes in pretty good money, mainly from endorsements. Supports a big payroll, probably more than necessary. Looks like she has some moochers.”
“Sounds about right. She’s too nice to cut the people she doesn’t need.”
“Lives with Carrie Dunbar, noted as her best friend. Degree in Marketing from UC. Top ten wish granter for sick kids. No arrests, DUIs, diva behavior, meltdowns, or hotel trashing.”
Not the usual reputation for a young, rich pop star. Yet, an exact match to what he knows to be true. Her quiet gentleness a genuine reflection of her personality.
Max flips through the papers. “Even her concert rider is simple—bottles of sparkling water, fresh orange slices, and some kind of sweets…either brownies, cupcakes, or cookies.”
Nick chuckles at the last comment. Of all the demands she could make, dessert is her top priority. “That’s it?”
“Yeah, and a few pictures. Some are professional. The others are paparazzi.”
Nick holds the photos against the steering wheel, glancing at them as he drives. The first few are staged, maybe for magazine covers or publicity shots. Even with the sexy clothes and heavy make-up, her innocent beauty is undeniable.
The others are casual. Shae and another girl walking arm in arm on the sidewalk. Driving her white Infiniti SUV. His pulse quickens at the last one. She clings to a man with his arm extended, trying to push their way through a huge crowd of people. Both the guy and her fear make his jaw clench.
He passes the pictures back to Max, who pushes in the lighter on the dashboard. “She probably wouldn’t be happy to know you investigated her.”
A rare feeling of guilt rolls through his stomach. Normally, he doesn’t give a damn about what people think, but with her… He shakes his head. He can’t let her be mad at him. “I had to know more about her. She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met.”
“Definitely a good thing, with your track record.”
The lighter pops out, and Max holds the red ring to the corner of the folder. As it burns, Nick turns off the highway to a beach access parking lot and stops next to a metal trash can. Once the flames are a few inches from his fingers, Max drops the charred file into the bin. When the papers are completely gone, Nick pulls back onto the road.
“I need one more thing. Jessica called, but hasn’t left a message. Find out what’s going on. I don’t want to talk to her if I can avoid it.”
Max’s grip around the roll bar tightens as he shakes his head. “Fuck that! I’ll do your other dirty work, but you don’t pay me enough to deal with her.”
“I’ll give you an extra million.”
“Ten wouldn’t be enough.”
Nick laughs and pulls into the gym parking lot, scanning the vehicles before hopping out. His chest tightens at the absence of her SUV. He strides through the lobby and down the hall, searching the equipment as he passes. Maybe she’s just running late.
Jason looks up from untangling ropes as Nick pushes the door open. “Happy Friday, Nick. Since Shae isn’t coming, I thought we could do a little cardio once I get these free, and then I’ll spot you while you lift.”
“Where is she?”
Finally pulling a rope loose, Jason hands it to him, beckoning for him to start jumping. “She had a photo shoot for her upcoming movie release.”
Damn.Why didn’t she tell him? Once again, she keeps a barrier between them, assuming he wouldn’t miss her after working out together every day this week. Too modest to realize he’s disappointed not to see her. “You’d never know she’s famous by the way she acts.”
“Yeah, that pop star princess thing is just an image created by Team Shae.” Jason rolls his eyes as his fingers curl into air quotes.
“Team Shae?”
“You know…her manager, agent, publicist.” Jason taps on his fingertips, ticking off the names, scowling with a level of disgust usually reserved for serial killers, child abusers, and lawyers. “All the people who claim to care about her, but really only care about their take of the money.”
“Is it really that bad?”
