MY FAVORITE BAND, page 77
Kylie laughs. “That’s adorkable.”
“Isn’t it?” I chuckle at her use of the word she taught me. “Can you let her help you with the finances a little? Maybe just act a little overwhelmed with your task list. It’ll give her something to do.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “It wouldn’t be an act, Adam. With Mitch taking off this leg of the tour last minute for his mother’s surgery, I’m not just MFB’s manager, I’m the tour manager. It’s a lot for one person. But finances?” she asks. “That’s a pretty big responsibility for someone so new to our circle.”
I press my lips together. “She’s not new. I’ve known her over half my life, and I trust her. Besides, she’s my wife.”
She rolls her eyes.
“She’s gonna stick around a while,” I add quietly.
She pins me with one of her scary gazes, but then something changes in her eyes. It seems like I passed whatever test she just doled out. She nods. “Okay. Truth be told, I have been feeling a little slammed lately. Handing over the tour book to someone who knows what she’s doing financially would lift a huge burden.”
I toss my arms around her and hug her.
“Don’t squeeze too tight,” she says. “You’ll crush the baby.” I jump back, and she giggles. “I’m kidding, but you should’ve seen the look on your face. We’re still not telling anyone, so zip those lips.”
I glare at her, and she walks back toward the forward cabin, laughing the entire way.
CHAPTER 43: EMILY
Kylie huffs out an annoyed breath as she studies a binder the next morning.
The guys are back in the office doing whatever it is they’re doing to write new music. I’m lazily scrolling my phone across the table from Kylie as I wonder if it was the chicken wraps or the fruit making me feel a little nauseous this morning.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“No.” She flips through the pages of her binder and finally tosses her pencil down and looks up at me. “I need to confirm several press spots for the guys after I’m done with the books, but I can’t get these numbers to add up. Adam said you’re a math whiz. Any chance you want to take a look at these records?”
I nod and hold my hand out for her to pass the binder over. It’s been a while since I’ve done anything more exciting than balancing a checkbook, and I miss feeling like I have a purpose aside from being Adam’s assistant, which so far has basically amounted to answering a few emails for him.
I glance up at the camera watching our every move and then back at Kylie.
“What?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
I find a blank sheet of paper in the folder at the back of the binder and debate writing down the question I’m burning to ask her.
She purses her lips at me then stands. “Come on,” she says, rolling her eyes. I follow her to the bunks, where there are no cameras, and we both click off our mic packs. I glance at the closed office door behind her where the band works. We have privacy here, but I don’t know how long it’ll last. “What’s going on?”
“Is it true?” I whisper, nodding toward her stomach.
“Is what true? And why are you whispering?”
“I, um—are you...pregnant?”
Her eyes widen, and she looks like she’s about to deny it but changes her mind. “Yeah. Adam and his stupid big mouth.”
I giggle. “He told me by accident, I swear. He just sort of blurted it out on New Year’s Eve.”
She rolls her eyes. “We’re not telling anyone yet.”
I want to ask why, but it’s her life and her decision. “Well it’s exciting news. Congratulations.”
“Thank you. It is exciting, but I’m just so damn scared.” I’ve never seen her as anything but a strong, fierce woman...and right now, that strong and fierce woman looks like she’s about to cry.
“That’s totally normal,” I say, still keeping my voice low as I reach out and squeeze her arm. “When my brother’s wife was expecting, they waited until twelve weeks before they told anyone.”
“I’m nine weeks now, and the doctor said it’s normal to wait until the second trimester to share the news. We’re just so scared it’ll get out there,” she says, making a wide circle motion with her hands, “and then something bad will happen and it’ll become a news story. But it’s my life.” She places a hand gently on her still very flat belly. “It’s not some celebrity gossip item, you know? It’s just a sweet, innocent little baby.”
We may not be that close—yet—but instinct tells me she needs a hug. I reach out and give her one. “You do what’s right for you. How did Adam find out, anyway?”
She shrugs. “He put two and two together when we announced our wedding date to the guys. Combined with the way Dax and I were pushing so hard for this season to focus on you two, he knew it was because we wanted the heat off us.”
I nod as understanding dawns on me. “So that’s why you pushed so hard to keep us married.”
“It was a little selfish, but it’s also only part of the reason.”
I narrow my eyes in confusion. “What’s the other part?”
“Apart from the love story for the show?” She grips both my biceps in her palms, and I can tell that whatever she’s about to say is genuine. “He’s so damn happy with you, Emily. That’s all I ever wanted for any of these guys.”
“You knew that the morning after we turned up married?”
She smiles and drops her hands. “I knew that the second I saw him standing beside you. He was protective, and not just in a brotherly way. His eyes shined when he looked at you. I’ve never seen him like that.”
I’m sure I blush, and I mumble something about how I’ll get started on the numbers.
And when I do, I find a mess.
It takes me two hours to decode and decipher what I’m looking at with Kylie’s direction. She tells me she didn’t balance the bottom line from the last four shows and that I should start there.
At first, I assumed she’d asked me because Adam put her up to it as a way to make me feel part of the tour. But I could tell from page one that something wasn’t adding up, and by the time I calculated the revenue from MFB’s last show in Oakland, I started getting a bad feeling.
Someone’s been skimming the profits and presumably lining their own pockets with money that should be going to MFB...only I have no idea who.
I don’t know enough about the way a tour works, and my first thought is that it’s Kylie since she’s the one who normally does the books.
But it can’t be Kylie. She’s the band’s manager. She makes plenty of cash for what she does, but it’s more than money. She’s about to marry the lead singer. She’s pregnant with his child. She seems like a genuine person who cares about the success of MFB.
But I’ve also heard how money does funny things to people.
I go over the numbers again. Approximately seventy-four percent of the revenue from the show in Oakland should go to the band after the venue takes its cut along with the promoter and other fixed expenses. With over sixteen thousand tickets sold to the show, that should add up to nearly two million dollars. From there, the money gets divided with certain percentages that go to the five members of the band, Kylie, Mitch, and the roadies...but when I do the math, exactly one hundred thousand dollars is missing off the top.
I run the numbers one more time and come up at the same dead end.
“Kylie?” I say a little timidly.
She stops typing on her laptop to look up at me.
I clear my throat, and then I lose my nerve. What if it is her?
If it is, though, why would she have offered to let me handle finances?
It just doesn’t make sense, but I feel like I should talk to Adam about this first.
I shake my head. “Never mind.”
Her gaze returns to her laptop without missing a beat, but something definitely feels off. And I intend to get to the bottom of it.
Apparently I’m not just a math whiz. I’m also a detective who needs some answers.
CHAPTER 44: ADAM
“A hundred thousand dollars?” I repeat, my voice low so no one else can hear our conversation.
We’re lying in my bunk facing each other, and her eyes are wide with nerves as she tells me the numbers aren’t adding up.
Emily nods, her hair swinging loosely around her shoulders. “Exactly. From both shows in Vegas as well as Sacramento and Oakland. But everything before that adds up, so I know something is wrong here.”
I have a bad feeling about this. “So we just have four hundred thousand dollars unaccounted for?”
“If I’m reading the books right, then yes.”
I grip one of her shoulders. “Before I go accusing Kylie of stealing from the band, are you absolutely sure about this?”
She shakes her head as her eyes fill with tears, and I’m full of regret for putting her in this position. I just wanted her to feel like she was part of the team...I didn’t think she’d find someone embezzling money from us a few hours after she dug into the books. “No, I’m not sure. There’s a very real possibility I’m messing it up, but I don’t know how to ask Kylie without sounding like I’m accusing her.”
“Show me,” I say. I’m not a numbers guy. Guitar has always been my thing, but I have a good enough head on my shoulders to figure out what I’m looking at.
She pulls out her phone and shows me the pictures she took of the pages. She shows me the revenue for our gigs before Vegas, starting with Boston, then Pittsburgh and Philadelphia. And then she shows me our first night in Vegas and explains her math.
And she’s right.
There’s exactly a hundred thousand dollars missing.
“What the fuck?” I mutter. She shows me our second night in Vegas, Sacramento, and Oakland. “I can’t believe someone would skim that much money off the top and think we wouldn’t catch it.”
“Who do you think it is?” she asks.
I can’t believe it when the name leaves my mouth, but I can’t figure out who else it could possibly be. “Kylie?”
“It can’t be.” She shakes her head resolutely. “Why would she possibly do that?”
I lift a shoulder. “An insurance policy for her kid. What if something happens between her and Dax before they get married?”
“You don’t really think...” she trails off.
I climb down from my bunk and storm to the front of the bus. Everyone is gathered up there.
“Kylie?” I yell, my voice thunderous in the small space of the forward cabin.
“Right here,” she says, lifting a hand in the air and pointing to the top of her head. Dax sits beside her as they study something on her laptop.
“Why the fuck is a hundred grand missing from the books for the last four gigs?”
Her brows arch in surprise first and then furrow in confusion. She puts a hand to her chest. “I have no idea. Why don’t you ask the girl who came along out of nowhere and suddenly had access to all of MFB’s finances?”
“You think it was me?” Emily yells as she storms into the forward cabin behind me.
“I didn’t say that,” Kylie spits. “But we hardly know you, and running to Adam accusing a pregnant woman of cooking the books in the neighborhood of half a million seems a little rash, don’t you think?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Brody says, holding up a hand. He pauses the movie he, Kane, and Rascal were watching. “A pregnant woman?”
Kylie’s eyes widen as she realizes her mistake. She covers her mouth with her hand, and Dax draws in a deep breath. He looks at Kylie and squeezes her hand, and she finally nods.
“Kylie’s pregnant,” Dax says softly. “She’s due at the end of June.”
His announcement is met with a few beats of silence, and then everyone starts talking and cheering and yelling at once. Hugs are issued, and the nearly half a million dollars is forgotten for a minute while we congratulate the happy couple on the first future member of MFB.
“We were waiting to talk about it for a few more weeks,” Kylie confesses, wiping tears from beneath her eyes. “There’s just a lot that can go wrong at the beginning and it’s a little scary.”
Kane leans in and gives her a side hug with his arm around her shoulders. “Whatever happens, good and bad, we’re a family. We deal with it together. I’m so happy for the two of you.”
She smiles up at him, and then the excitement of the announcement starts to die down.
“What’s this about missing money?” Dax asks me.
“Emily did the math on the last four gigs.” I nod to Emily. “Show him what you showed me.”
She sits at the table across from him and takes out her phone. She looks over at Kylie nervously, who sits quietly with a raised brow.
“Yep, there’s definitely something off,” Dax says. He looks over at Kylie. “Has this ever happened before?”
She shakes her head. “Why would you possibly think it was me?” she asks me.
“You’re the one who regularly looks at the books.”
“Adam, I would never steal from you guys.” She wipes away more tears. “I can’t even believe I have to say that. And I’m sorry for the tears. I’ve been an emotional mess lately.”
Dax tosses an arm around her shoulders. “No one thinks it was you, babe,” he says. “Who else has access?”
She clears her throat. “Who’s missing?”
A lightbulb goes off in my mind at the exact same time Dax voices the name. “Mitch.”
She nods. “He does the numbers, not me. He must’ve skimmed off the top before we could notice and then he took off with the cash.”
“But we noticed,” Emily says.
“Good work, detective,” Kylie says. She smiles. “Sorry for being rude before.” She stands and moves toward Emily, and they hug it out.
And suddenly, just like that, it feels like Emily has been inducted into the family.
CHAPTER 45: EMILY
The way he kisses me is different.
Something big has changed, and I know what it is.
This kiss is leading somewhere, and I’m not sure that could be said for any of the times he’s kissed me before.
Maybe it’s not so much in the way he’s kissing me as it is in the way I’m feeling it.
An intense ache presses viciously between my thighs. I want him, and as the kiss intensifies, he shifts so he’s on top of me. He thrusts his hips against mine, a fully-clothed preview of what we both want...of what’s coming soon for us.
I just don’t know when soon is.
Is it now? Right here in this bunk?
Because I’m more than ready.
“I want you,” he whispers.
I push my hips up to meet his in response to his heated words, and his kiss intensifies even more. He’s passionate as his tongue brutalizes mine, and then he trails his lips down my neck and down into my cleavage.
I can’t help the moan that rumbles out of me with his head between my breasts.
He chuckles and shifts back up until his mouth finds mine again.
His weight combined with the small bunk we’re sharing and the fact that we’re definitely not alone on this tour bus built for ten makes the place this is leading both steamy and illicit at the same time.
Too steamy, in fact.
And apparently, a little too illicit, too.
“I’m not going to let the first time you’ll remember with me happen in this tiny bunk,” he whispers close to my ear, and I shiver at the combination of his words and his breath against me. “But it will happen. I’ll get us our own hotel.” He kisses my neck one more time then backs away so his eyes meet mine. “Okay?”
I somehow moan out an okay, but truthfully, I’m not okay. I need him to calm the pulsing throb I have for him...and now.
His eyes seem to search my face, and then he shifts off me and moves to the curtain side of the bunk. He always lets me take the inside so I don’t feel like I’m going to fall out of bed, but right now I can tell he’s taking the curtain side for a different reason.
His hand finds the hem of my shirt and his fingers trail up my stomach until they find my bra. He pulls one of my breasts out over the cup and runs his fingertip in circles around my nipple until it forms a tight bud. He squeezes it, and a needy moan escapes me.
His lips come toward my ear, and he gives me a little shh along with the treat of his tongue on my skin again. He sucks my earlobe into his mouth and gives it a little nip with his teeth before he lets it go. “I’m going to make you come right now, but you have to do it quietly. Okay?”
My eyes widen, and he’s still playing with my nipple, and we’re in the middle of a tour bus with a bunch of other people on it, and this is so not me but I can’t think straight when his fingers are on my breast and his tongue is by my neck, and so some incoherent moan leaves my lips and then his fingers work the button and zipper of my jeans. He slides his hand in between my jeans and my panties, and he cups me in his hand. I know it’s already damp down there since I’ve been ready for this moment with him for weeks.
He teases me over my panties, and then his hand leaves my jeans completely. I’m a wrecked mess of need. My eyes pop open, and I’m about to protest when he gathers the hem of my shirt and pushes it up. He leans over so he can take my nipple in his mouth, and his hand dives back down...but this time he goes right for the gold rather than playing around.
He pushes one finger into me then pulls it out to spread the moisture around my clit, and then he pushes two fingers in and thrusts in and out. My hips jerk off the mattress at the feel of his hands, his perfect hands with those long, lean, strong fingers of his while he proves that playing guitar is just one of the many talents these hands can do.
His fingers pick up speed, driving into me as the ache pulses and throbs and escalates to a nearly unbearable level. He’s still working my nipple, and when he pulls his fingers out and massages my clit in torturously slow circles, I fall apart completely.
