Fade to Red (13 page)

“I hope you’ll like me a little better this time around,” he said.

And just like that, all the progress Beckham thought he was making fell apart, as her face clouded over and her eyes grew hard.

She stood up from the table and leaned over to whisper into Beckham’s ear.

“I work for you. You don’t know me. I don’t know you. We don’t
need
to know each other. Got it?”

She stood up straight and was about to walk away when Beckham put his hand on her arm.

“Roxie? You might say that now, but we’re just getting started onstage together. You tell me all I need to know when you dance with me. It’s a different beast with the energy of a crowd out there. You’ll be addicted to what that pulls out of you.
Every. Single. Night
.”

He grinned as her eyes got huge and laughed as she walked away. He couldn’t wait to get on that stage with her in just a few short hours.

The first show was a huge success, receiving acclaim from the critics:

‘Kept the audience hypnotized…’

‘Woods exuded an effortless charisma that Sterling matched perfectly. The two of them together are sizzling magic.’

‘Hearing the fusion of these two superstars is the ultimate experience…’

Beckham didn’t see Roxie the next day. He had an interview set up at the bus with
Rolling Stone
. He didn’t want to talk about his addictions anymore and it always went back to that or whoever he might be dating. He let his bodyguard, Howie, know exactly how much time he intended to spend with the journalist and when Howie should intervene.

After lunch, there was a knock and Howie walked in.

“Mirielle Wethers from
Rolling Stone
to see you?” Howie said.

“Send her in.”

A gorgeous redhead walked in wearing tight jeans and a T-shirt. Her cleavage was the first red flag. The determination in her eyes was the second. It should have been the other way around, but he knew her type. The two usually went hand-in-hand when the woman led with her breasts. He had it right the first time.

“Beckham Woods?” she purred. “Mirielle Wethers. Thank you for meeting me.”

“You’re new,” he said with an edge.

“Are you gonna hold it against me?” She sat down on the couch next to him, leaning forward.

Beckham groaned. “Tell Matt I’m holding this against
him
. The bastard.” Beckham knew Matt, his favorite journalist at the magazine, was trying to bait him with an overly eager sexpot who was willing to do whatever necessary to boost her career off of this interview.

Mirielle stuck her candy red lips out in a pout, pretending to be wounded. “Aw, come on. Let’s not get off on the wrong foot. There are much better ways to get off…” She licked her lips slowly.

Beckham moved to the other couch. “Shall we start the interview?”

After twenty minutes of trying to steer Mirielle’s line of questioning to something other than his rehab stint and the actresses he’d last been seen with, he stood up.

“If we can’t talk about the music, I’m done here.”

She stood up and touched his arm. “I need this interview,
please
give me something…”

“If you can’t find anything worth writing about in the music, either I’m doing something wrong or you’re not meant to do this.”

The fire lit in her eyes and she stepped back like she’d been hit.

“Tell Matt I missed him. You can see your way out.” Beckham pointed to the door, just as there was a knock.

Howie walked in and nodded at them both. “Your next appointment is here,” he said.

“Look, Mr. Woods, I just need a little more of your time, please. Can you … please give me a few more minutes?” She gave Howie a dismissive wave.

“I’m all out of minutes,” Beckham said. “Howie? Can you escort Miss Wethers out?”

Mirielle stood there for a few seconds, fuming. She looked at Beckham and then decided to change her tactics.

“Thank you for your time.” She leaned over, her chest rubbing against his as she kissed his cheek.

His breath caught and he stepped back. Mirielle smiled, at least part of her mission complete as she left the tour bus.

Going backstage after sound check, he went searching for the green room. He had junk food on the brain and needed to hunt some down. Opening the door, he realized he was in the wrong room right away, but then noticed movement in the corner. The room was sparse; a few speakers and cases were on the floor, and a couple of poles that went into the rafters of the exposed ceiling. Roxie was circling one and Beckham lost all rational thought when she jumped on it, landing high, and did the splits before winding her legs back around the pole and going upside down. She dropped and he jumped forward to help her, but she hadn’t fallen, she was just working her way back up the pole without ever touching the ground. Faster and faster and faster she turned, her legs flying and flawless. She moved until he was dizzy. Time leaped into fast forward motion and her movements spoke to him from somewhere cavernous. She slowed and her head faced the floor and her legs reached up to the ceiling … and then she was right side up again.

Oh please, don’t let it end. Beckham blinked and she was standing by the pole, circling it the way she had been when he came in.

He’d never seen anything so erotic and he’d seen plenty try. Nothing had ever come close to watching her.

She turned; her face radiant. Her mouth dropped when she saw him. He closed his mouth when hers opened.

She started to say something then stopped.

He stepped forward. “Roxie. That was …
unbelievable
.”

“Favorite class I’ve ever taken—pole dancing,” she said, blushing.

“You can’t be embarrassed. You were born to do that.” He pointed like an imbecile. She’d rendered him stupid. “Everyone deserves to see you on a pole,” he said, eyes twinkling.

“Not gonna happen,” she said.

“Just me then…” He let his eyes wander down her body again and nodded in appreciation. “Yeah, I’d prefer that too.”

She groaned, but he caught her smile right before she turned and left the room.

Anthony was right. The crowd went insane when Sparrow came onstage. They didn’t dance—it was all Ian could do to get her to come out in front of the crowd, but she let him serenade her. It had been a hit every night thus far and was something Ian looked forward to now in the show. He saw her standing to the side, waiting for her cue, and winked. She started out nervous each night but relaxed once she moved toward him. It was a song he’d written for her when they’d been broken up, not his usual gritty blues-filled soul, but his heart pouring out. It was no secret she’d brought out the sap in him. He smirked to himself … yeah, so much of a sap that it was a struggle for him to keep it together every night to sing the song.

The strings and guitar played the opening notes and Ian began to sing.

I remember once upon a time

When your heart and mine became entwined

A world of wonder testified that we were meant to be

It was this moment that Sparrow made her entrance, and the applause was deafening…

It was like a fairytale romance

Two enchanted lovers holding hands

We vowed that time and circumstance would never come between…

And now we’ve learned it’s not as easy as it seems

And real life can steal the magic from our dreams

But I believe true love was made for times like these

Sparrow’s eyes filled each time he got to the chorus. She gave him a shaky smile and he leaned over to give her a quick kiss, earning another roar from the crowd. Her skin was hot from being flushed and nervous.

And I believe in happy-ever-after

You and me and love will find an answer

Darlin’, this is not the final chapter of our true love story

I remember warm December nights

Starry skies and snow-white mountain heights

Eyes that danced like candlelight to an ageless song

Snapshot memories of moments past

Come back like forgotten photographs

The love we made was made to last for a lifetime long

It’s true that life can do its damage to our dreams

And love is not always as easy as it seems

But I believe true love was made for times like these

And I believe in happy-ever-after

You and me and love will find an answer

Darlin’, this is not the final chapter of our true love story

I may not be your knight in shining armor anymore

But I believe that we are still worth fighting for

If you’ll only kiss me and say that you’ll forgive me

I know we can get that magic feeling back once more

Before the last chorus, the music cut back and he stopped and held her against him as he sang it one more time. When the final notes rang out, he put his hands on her face and kissed her. He didn’t care if thousands of people were cheering or not. He lived to love this woman.

“You and me and love,” she whispered before walking away.

He felt that tug he always felt when she walked away—like he wanted nothing more than to run after her.

“I love you, baby!” He yelled in the microphone.

She laughed and flushed as everyone stomped and screamed.

Normally when he was done for the night, Sparrow and Journey were somewhere backstage, either hanging out in one of the green rooms or talking to Roxie and Sierra. Tonight, Sierra found him first and told him to hurry to the bus.

“Sparrow fell right after she walked off the stage. She says she’s fine, but her foot is bruised and huge.” She winced when she saw his face. “Anthony and a paramedic are with her now.”

He rushed through the parked buses until he reached theirs. He nearly ran over Anthony in his hurry. He was trying to console Journey, who stopped fussing when she saw Ian, reaching out for him to take her. She smiled at Anthony once she was in Ian’s arms, the little rascal. Anthony chuckled and rolled his eyes.

Ian moved past him and hurried to Sparrow. He kissed her cheek and assessed her eyes before he looked at her foot. He knew she hated crying in front of people, even him, but he couldn’t believe she wasn’t bawling. It was bad.

“Oh baby. It looks awful. You think it’s broken?”

She made a face. “I’m okay.” Her breath hitched when the paramedic put an ice pack on her foot. “It hurts, but it’s not terrible.” She swallowed hard.

“Yeah, not buying that,” he said.

“This is Tyler.” She motioned to the paramedic. “He’s pretty sure it’s just a bad sprain, and I think so too…”

“Rest, ice, compression, and elevate.” Tyler’s voice was very low and fast, and he didn’t smile or blink. “She needs to rest it for at least 3 days. Do the ice in 15-20 minute intervals, with 40 minutes between intervals to prevent frostbite. I’ve compressed it, as you can see. Make sure when you wrap it again, it’s not too tight. And keep your feet elevated to at least your heart level, Sparrow.” He took a quick breath and kept going. “You can take both acetaminophen and ibuprofen. If it’s not feeling better in a few days, you’ll need to get an X-ray.”

“I’ll be fine,” Sparrow insisted. “Thank you, Tyler. I’m glad you were here.”

When Tyler left, Anthony and Sierra sat on the couch across from Sparrow.

“He was intense,” Sierra said.

Sparrow giggled. “Rest, ice, compression, and elevate,” she said, as low as her voice would go.

Someone knocked on the door.

“It’s Roxie,” she called.

Sierra opened the door and Roxie came in, looking worried.

“Are you okay? Did you tell Ian what happened?”

Sparrow stared at Roxie and shook her head. “I’m not even sure anymore,” she said softly.

“Sure of what?” Ian asked, frowning.

“It all happened so quickly, and I’m not positive—you know what a klutz I am!” Her arms flailed. “I just don’t know…”

“Would you please just tell me what happened?”

“I think I was tripped.” She bit her lip and looked down. “I’m not positive, so I hate to even accuse anyone, but Roxie thought she saw it too, before I even said anything.”

“Who?” Ian scowled. “You mean on
purpose
?”

She nodded. “Maybe she didn’t mean for me to get hurt, just wanted me to … look dumb, or something.”

“Who?” he repeated.

“Brooke.”

Ian gritted his teeth. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. I knew she was trouble,” he muttered.

“Really?”

“Yeah, she keeps trying to be all up in my space, and I keep making it obvious I want no part of it.” He put his hand on Sparrow’s cheek and leaned in. “You know that, right?”

Sparrow smiled. “I do know,” she said softly. “I’ve seen her, and,” she motioned to the girls, “we’ve had a few discussions about her.”

“She didn’t like that one of the dancers wasn’t given a part on that song—she’s been saying that on the bus,” Roxie added. “I’m not sure what her game is … she’s all over Beckham too.”

“I’ll talk to Beckham, and I’m also gonna have a chat with Brooke.” Ian’s face was tight.

“No, she’ll just deny it! I’m not even positive myself!” Sparrow moved the pillows behind her, so she could sit up taller on the couch. “I’d rather stay out of her way, and if she so much as blinks at me wrong, I’ll take care of it.”