Indigo- The Complete Series, page 34
part #1 of Indigo Series
Backstage everyone shared in the celebration, backslaps, and hugs. Justin grabbed a large bottle of water and gulped it down. He was tired but euphoric.
Justin and his bandmates slowly worked their way backstage for the after-show party. The guest list consisted primarily of personal friends and family. He paused to say a few words to his band members’ wives and tease the kids. Where had the time gone?
“Congratulations, Justin. It was a great show.”
“Phil Rothstein.” Justin smiled, turning to greet the famous record producer. He hadn’t seen Phil since he wrapped up his covers project. “I didn’t know you were in town,” he said as the two shook hands.
“I’m here to scout for some new acts. Listen, do you have a few minutes?” Phil asked, holding a tumbler of scotch and passing a beer to Justin.
Justin accepted the beer. “I’m free now.”
Phil led Justin to a small sofa in a quiet area and sat down saying, “It really was a great show. I’m pleased we were able to work together before you attract a new legion of fans. You’re going to be in high demand as a solo artist.”
Justin nodded and took a long pull of cold beer off his bottle. He felt so connected to Indigo, especially after tonight. But he had to admit that working with other musicians on the covers project had been inspiring. Justin felt a pang of guilt as he watched his bandmates celebrating. They would always be connected, but he wanted to try something new.
“The covers project was the foundation for pursuing your new direction. I can do that for you,” Phil said, catching Justin’s attention again.
“But the covers project hasn’t even been released yet.” Justin laughed. “And after two more nights like this, I’m going to need a long vacation.”
“That’s the other thing I want to discuss with you.” Phil leaned forward.
Justin took another gulp of beer, keeping his attention on Phil. “I’m listening.”
“But first of all, I want to let you know I’ve seen the news about Rachel,” Phil whispered. “I know you didn’t do it.”
“Thanks. I’m sorry about what happened to her, but I want this situation resolved so I can get on with my life.” He appreciated Phil’s support, but he wasn’t in the mood to discuss Rachel.
“Me, too. I want you to rest up after this concert series before you begin promoting the covers project. That’s why I’m offering you the use of my Greek villa after the concerts are over.”
Justin jerked back and laughed. “A Greek villa? Why would you do that?”
Phil shrugged his shoulders, smiling. “It’s just a small gesture to show my appreciation for doing the covers album and for working together in the future.”
“It sounds fantastic, but I’ll have to think about it.”
“No thinking required.” Phil insisted, getting to his feet. “And it is fantastic. The villa is on Santorini.” Phil glanced at his phone. “I’ll email you all the details. I’ll have a car and my jet ready for you as soon as the last concert ends. I’ll handle everything else.”
“Thank you, Phil,” Justin said, standing to shake Phil’s hand.
“I know you can afford to vacation anywhere you want to go, but the villa is very secluded. You deserve that, especially now,” he repeated with a raised brow.
“I hope Rachel’s case is resolved soon.” Justin finished his beer. “But until then, Graham has insisted I stay out of the media spotlight.”
“That’s good advice.” Phil nodded. “There were quite a few protestors outside when I arrived. Let’s hope the police identify Rachel’s assailant soon because I’m concerned this situation could escalate. And I don’t have to tell you that would be an unfortunate distraction for you and Indigo.”
“I agree.”
“Listen, I’ve got to get going,” Phil said. “Remember, just give me a call, and the villa is all yours for as long as you need it.” He shook Justin’s hand one last time and slapped him on the back before walking away.
As Phil shook hands and laughed with the others, Justin turned his attention turned to Graham and Max having a heated discussion in the corner of the room.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Justin asked as he approached them.
Max gave Graham a playful nudge. “This posh arsehole is being paranoid.”
“It’s a good plan,” Graham said. “And besides, Justin has agreed, haven’t you?”
“Ah, you two must be arguing about my change of lodgings,” Justin said, running his hand over his chin.
“It’s a stupid idea,” Max grumbled. “It makes you look guilty.”
“It’s only a temporary. I don’t want you to be distracted by all this nonsense,” Graham said.
“Thanks for looking out for me. Both of you,” Justin said. “But as much as I would like to be in my flat, I have to agree with Graham.”
Max growled at Graham, “He’s behaving like he’s guilty. Justin should walk out of here with his chin up and balls intact. He hasn’t been arrested or convicted of any crime.”
“I’ll be all right, Max.” Justin hated this situation, but he appreciated his manager’s concern and decided to lighten things up a bit. “It’s sweet of you to worry about me. Maybe you can visit me and we’ll play cards, or stay up all night watching cooking shows, or—” he broke off in laughter, shaking his head.
“You’re a wanker,” Max said, breaking into a playful grin.
“All right,” Graham said. “Max will arrange for some of your things to be transferred to you. Now let’s get going.”
After saying goodnight to his bandmates and their families, Max and Graham escorted Justin down an empty corridor. “This is a secure area, used only by rock stars with paranoid agents,” Max said with a deep laugh, glancing over at Graham.
Max pushed open the door, where a black London cab was waiting. “Well, this is traveling first class,” Justin observed, hands on his hips.
“It’s an illusion and a decoy.” Graham motioned to the driver and said, “Alfie is ex-military. He knows every shortcut in this city and is trained to drive defensively. He’ll be your driver and security guard for the next two days. Longer if necessary,” Graham said, holding the door open.
Alfie gave Justin a stiff nod. “I’ll keep you away from all those vipers, Mr. Hamilton.” Alfie was tall and skinny, with a military buzzcut and intense green eyes.
“Uh, thanks, Alfie.” Justin climbed in and got settled in the back seat.
Max sat beside him, shutting the door and adjusting his big girth.
“Get some rest,” Graham said, leaning in. “And shave, for God’s sake.” He grinned before nodding to Alfie.
As Alfie drove away from the theater, Justin observed a large crowd gathered around the main stage door exit. But unlike the usual crowd of boisterous fans, this group was chanting something. Frowning, Justin rolled down the window a bit to listen to what they were saying.
“Stop the violence! Stop the violence!” the crowd chanted. Reporters and camera crews were everywhere with bright lights aimed at the stage door.
“Motherfuckers,” Max muttered, looking out the window.
“Relax, Max. Those people are not Indigo fans. The concerts are all sold out. These protests will blow over,” Justin said, trying to be optimistic.
“Not soon enough,” Max grumbled, leaning back in the seat.
There was no way he would involve Lucy in this chaos. He leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes. He was impatient to talk to her, but how would he explain that he couldn’t be with her?
“We’re here,” Max said, opening up his door.
“Where are we?” Justin opened his eyes, noticing the cab had stopped in a deserted alley.
“It’s the Wentworth,” Max replied. “It’s a small hotel, quiet and discreet. I still don’t like the idea of hiding, but this is the perfect place if you want privacy.”
Justin got out of the cab and inspected his surroundings. The alley was quiet, except for reggae music, and pots and pans clanging in a nearby restaurant.
“This way,” Max motioned, walking to a door and knocking on it.
A young, slender man in a dark suit opened the door and ushered them in. “Welcome to the Wentworth, Mr. Hamilton. My name is Roger Smythe, and I’m in charge of VIP guest services. It’s my job to ensure your stay with us is enjoyable and private, he said in a clipped aristocratic accent. “Right this way.”
Justin and Max followed Roger down a short hallway to an open elevator. Roger put a key into the control panel, and they ascended to the top level.
When the elevator stopped, Roger said, “This is our restricted floor. It has twenty-four hour security, and I assure you that you will not be bothered. No one has access to this area except myself or carefully screened staff.”
Walking down a carpeted hallway, Roger stopped in front of a lacquered black door and opened the brass lock with a tarnished key. He caught Justin’s eye and said, “Sometimes old-fashioned keys are the safest.” He gave Justin a wry smile.
“Suite forty-one is our most exclusive room, and I believe you’ll find everything you need.” Roger opened the door, and Justin took in the luxurious room, decorated entirely in black and white.
Justin nodded. “I appreciate your assistance.”
“My staff is available to you any time of the night or day. Just dial four one on the house phone, and you will reach my direct line.”
“Thanks. I’ll be fine.” Justin pulled out his wallet to give Roger a tip.
Accepting the tip, Roger said a bit shyly, “I’ve been a fan of yours for a long time. It is my honor to assist you.”
“Thank you. I’m grateful for your support.”
“I wish you a restful night.” Roger walked back to the elevator.
Max winked at Justin. “I think Roger is your number one fan.”
Justin shook his head, narrowing his eyes at his manager. “Fuck off.”
Max walked around the room and exhaled. “We’ll get this all sorted out,” he said quietly.
“Go home, Max,” Justin said, walking his manager to the door. “You don’t have to babysit me, you know.”
“Oh,” Max said. “Did you ever get in touch with Lucy?”
“We’ve been playing phone tag. And guess what? She’s in London on business.”
“That’s great,” Max said with a grin and then his face creased with a frown. “But—”
“I know. Lucy’s here, and I can’t see her. There’s no way I’m going to put her through that again,” he said, running a hand over his stubble.
“What are you going to do?”
“The first thing I’m going to do is take a shower, drink a beer, and then call her. That’s all I can do right now.” He suddenly felt he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I’ll talk to you in the morning.” Justin held the door open for Max.
“First thing,” Max replied with a nod.
After a hot shower, Justin wrapped a plush white towel around his hips and walked to the suite’s bar to fish out a beer from the refrigerator. He sat down on the black couch and glanced at the clock above the suite’s mantelpiece. He wasn’t sure if she was still out at a museum function or if she was already asleep. He picked up his phone, found her name, and hit the call button.
Just as before, her cell rang several times before it went to voicemail. “Lucy. It’s Justin. Listen,” he said, pausing for a moment to collect his thoughts. “There’s a story in the press about Rachel. I want you to know that I didn’t hurt her. I’m sure it will blow over soon, but until it does I want to know you’re safe and out of this mess. If the press finds out you’re in town…well, anyway,” he said with a deep exhale. “Call me, please. Any time.” He hit the end button and tossed the phone down on the coffee table. There was nothing else he could do but wait for her to respond.
CHAPTER 15
Lucy
Once the limousine arrived at the Carlton, Lucy didn’t wait for the driver to open the door. She stormed out of the car, pulled her jacket around her, and ran into the lobby.
“Good evening, Ms. Bianchi,” Pippa greeted, as Lucy passed by the desk.
The elevator was open, and she made a dash for it. She pushed the button for her floor and then the ‘close’ button several times. As the doors were closing, Edward placed his hand between to force them open.
He slipped in, saying, “Just in time.” He let out a harsh breath.
Lucy kept her eyes focused on the black marble tile and her arms wrapped tightly around her waist. As soon as the doors opened, she bolted down the hallway to her room.
“Ms. Bianchi,” he called behind her.
She flinched when Edward spoke and fumbled with the key card, dropping it on the floor. Now he was right beside her. Her hands shook, and she couldn’t get the card in the door.
“Allow me.” Edward took the card from her hand and opened the door. “Did I do something to upset you?”
Lucy’s eyes sparked with anger as she grabbed the key card from him. “What is it with you?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you still have feelings for the musician.”
She leaned in close and hissed, “My feelings are none of your business. Ever.”
Edward held his hands up and stepped away. “My apologies. I assure you I won’t make that mistake again.” His voice sounded sincere, but it unnerved her just the same.
“You always apologize for saying something rude, and then you do it again. It stops right now. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand,” Edward said, his dark eyes giving nothing away.
“Good,” Lucy said, shoving him aside to get into her room, slamming and locking the door behind her. How was she going to get through the next few days around him?
Safe on the other side, Lucy took a deep breath. She pushed away from the door and checked to make sure the adjoining door was locked. She had no idea why Edward liked to play these mind games with her, but she took pride in the fact that she stood up for herself and would do it again if she needed to.
Feeling tense, but too wound up to go to bed, Lucy decided to take a bath to relax. She turned on the tap and poured a little of the Jo Malone orange blossom bath oil into the tub and inhaled the pleasing fragrance. While the tub filled, she dimmed the lights as she undressed and put her hair up in a knot.
She sighed, sinking into the oversized tub. She let the scent fill her nose and the warm water relax her muscles. Her mind drifted to what she would say to Justin when she spoke to him. He couldn’t have hurt Rachel like that. And why in the world did Rachel have to be in London now?
She closed her eyes and slowed her breathing. Rather than worry about the new scandal or Edward, she focused her thoughts on Justin. She ran a hand over her abdomen and then up to her breast as her fingers traced across her nipple, and recalled Justin’s touch and kisses. How she yearned to be with him again.
***
Lucy must have fallen asleep, because she woke with a start, the cooled water giving her a chill. Standing in the tub, she took a warm towel off the heated rack and dried herself off, then put on her favorite pajamas.
She opened her purse and took out her phone. Her heart leaped when she saw the voicemail from Justin. “Damn it!” She had forgotten to turn the ringer back on.
She listened to his message. His voice was rough and tired, probably from the concert. This scandal was growing, and he was trying to keep her out of it this time. Touching the call back button, she held her breath while the phone rang.
“Lucy,” Justin said in his familiar deep voice.
“I can't believe it's you. When can I see you?”
Justin exhaled deeply. “If it were up to me, we would already be together. But I don't think we can right now.”
“Media attention, right?” She lay down on the bed against the pile of pillows.
“Yeah.” He paused a moment before continuing, “I feel like this thing is going to get bigger before it goes away.”
“What happened?” she asked with a growing unease.
“First of all, I want you to know I did not hurt Rachel.”
“I believe you.”
“Good,” he said, letting out big breath.
“Now tell me the rest,” she said, biting her lip while she waited for his answer.
“Rachel pounced on me as I was leaving a restaurant. There were a lot of paparazzi outside, and they started taking pictures. She jumped in the cab as I was closing the door. She wanted to come home with me, and tried to touch me. I pushed her away, and she bumped her head against a window. I swear she wasn't hurt,” he assured “As soon as I could, I got out of the cab and hailed another, and went home. Alone.” He took a deep breath. “The next morning Max showed me the photos of her that were all over the internet. I’ve talked to the police, and my solicitor says they have no case against me. But there were a lot of protestors and press outside the theater tonight. And we have two more nights of concerts.”
“I see,” she said, her apprehension growing about not being able to be with him anytime soon.
“Because of the press, my agent Graham has insisted I stay away from my flat. So, until this blows over I'm in lockdown at a secure hotel.”
“Can I come to your hotel?" she asked, closing her eyes and hoping somehow they would be together.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea. It was wrong of me to take off and leave you to handle it by yourself. But the press in the U.K. is even worse. If they get any hint of you being in town, what happened in LA will be nothing compared to what could explode here.”
“But you're innocent,” she protested.
“I am innocent. But I have to keep you safe this time. I have to. We'll figure this out after the concerts are over.”
Lucy was quiet. Why were there so many problems keeping them apart?
“Lucy, are you there?”
“Yeah, I'm here,” she whispered.
