“At this stage, it doesn’t look like it’s Malcolm,” Marc said.

It was past midnight again and I’d been desperate to return to my hotel room after another exhausting day of filming so I could call Marc for an update.

“Are you sure?”

“As sure as I can be right now. We’re still looking at other angles, but there’s no way he could have been anywhere near you while you were on the yacht with Gabe or at the restaurant. He has alibis—he was filming on the first occasion and with his family the next time.”

Damn, I’d been so sure it fit. What Marc said made sense though. The day I was on Gabe’s yacht had been my day off, not Malcolm’s.

“That doesn’t mean he couldn’t have arranged for someone else to follow us. A director as prominent as Malcolm isn’t going to creep around like an actual stalker. He’s too smart for that. He’d hire someone to do it for him.”

“Yes, I tend to agree, and that’s what we’re looking into at the moment.”

I huffed. “Good. Sorry, I don’t mean to doubt you or sound ungrateful.”

“I know. Keep your eye on him and if you note anything else unusual about his behavior, let me know. Have there been anymore messages?”

“No.” Thank God. “Not since Gabe and I broke up.”

“How’s that going?”

“Don’t ask. It sucks.”

“Lena’s been worried about you. She said you’re going to see Gabe soon when he comes to Paris to play his shows?”

“Yeah, he’ll be here in approximately forty-one hours and thirty-three minutes,” I told him.

Marc didn’t laugh but I could imagine that wry grin of his. “Good to see you haven’t lost your sunny outlook on things.”

“That would be impossible, trust me. So will you give me another update soon?”

“I’ll be in touch again before Gabe gets there,” he promised.

*

THE RIDICULOUSNESS of the situation wasn’t lost on me. Famous Hollywood actress dresses in a costume to go see her rock-star boyfriend to avoid detection. When I’d said I’d make our relationship work, I hadn’t been kidding.

Getting dressed-up had kind of been fun, though. Today I was blond, complete with bangs and straight shoulder-length hair.

I’d decided a more gothic outfit would suit the occasion, too. If I was going to pretend to be a girlfriend of the band, then I’d play the part. My low-cut black denim jeans were super tight and the matching ripped T-shirt that finished around my belly button got plenty of attention as I walked through the hotel foyer.

Viktor trailed a good distance back. Nothing would be more likely to blow my cover than having a bodyguard. I could tell he wasn’t happy about my outfit. Anything that suggested I was a woman had that sort of reaction from him.

I pretended to hold the elevator door open for him and we rode to the penthouse of the hotel in silence. Actually, Viktor wasn’t happy full stop today. Though he had begrudgingly accepted my relationship with Gabe, he was reluctant to risk any high-profile attention while we were in Paris.

We arrived at the doors to the suite and Viktor nodded at the two security guards. Nothing said important like two solid glossy wood doors with a pair of imposing-looking men in suits standing outside.

My stomach clenched. I was relieved to see the band’s security was being taken seriously, but that wasn’t the reason for my unease. This would be the first time I saw Gabe since we’d ‘broken up.’

One of the men nodded at us. “You can go inside.”

I eyed Viktor and his broad shoulders moved up and down with a sigh.

“I’ll call you if I need you,” I promised him.

The door was opened for me and I stepped inside. The penthouse was staggering in its luxury. It also didn’t suit Gypsy Hour in the least. Chandeliers hung from ornate ceilings and the room was furnished like I had just stepped into a palace.

I heard the door close behind me and I stopped to get my bearings. A fireplace was surrounded by antique furniture and a polished grand piano sat near the full-length windows.

It was as if I’d walked into the wrong scene. I suddenly felt very underdressed in my grungy outfit and not at all sophisticated like my surroundings.

Or maybe I was just nervous.

I heard a low whistle and started when I saw Johnnie watching me from the balcony.

“Hiya, rock chick.”

“Hey.” I walked cautiously to the doorway. Where was Gabe?

“Your man will be here in a minute, don’t worry.”

God, was I that obvious? “How were the London shows?” I asked to distract myself.

Johnnie grinned, mischief and cockiness all rolled into one. “What can I say? They loved me.”

I shook my head, more relaxed now. If anything was predictable, it was Johnnie’s irreverent attitude.

I went to step onto the balcony but Johnnie held up a hand. “Unless you want to make the news as my latest squeeze, you might want to stay inside.”

I squinted into the sunlight. It was late morning and today Paris was enchanting us with blue skies dotted with puffy white clouds like you’d find on the canvas of a Monet.

“There’s paparazzi?” I asked.

Johnnie’s grin turned wry. “There’s always paparazzi.”

“You love it.”

His smile faded. “Not all the time.”

Well, well. Johnnie was human after all. My curiosity almost had me stepping onto the balcony but I stayed out of view.

He turned and rested his elbows on the concrete ledge. Although his eyes were hidden by Oakleys, I got the sense he was deep in thought.

“Do you like touring?” I asked, recalling my previous conversation with Gabe.

“The shows are awesome and it’s like traveling with family, you know?”

I did know, to some extent. It wasn’t uncommon to develop a strong bond with the cast and crew you worked with. For me it was a nice perk of the job, but I got the feeling it meant more to Johnnie.

“Sometimes you seem more like brothers,” I observed.

“You mean the way we fight and bicker?” Johnnie’s lips curved in a sentimental smile. “Yeah, it’s great, isn’t it?”

I wasn’t sure Gabe would agree. While I couldn’t deny they sometimes seemed more like brothers than co-workers, I wondered if Gabe felt like the little brother who often got ignored.

His smile faded. “Think I go too far with Gabe sometimes though.”

“Why?” I replied, disguising my surprise at his self-awareness.

Johnnie straightened, his gaze still on the horizon. “I’m afraid he’ll leave.”

I put a hand on the edge of the door to steady myself. That hadn’t been the answer I was expecting. “Why?” I asked again, feeling secretly guilty that I’d previously brought up the subject of Gabe leaving the band.

Johnnie shrugged. “Talent like his is hard to keep down.”

I gripped the wooden frame harder. Had Johnnie ‘I’m the center of the universe’ Walsh just admitted Gabe was talented?

“I think so too,” I said proudly. I was the last person who was going to stroke Johnnie’s ego.

Johnnie glanced back at me. “Yeah, I’m the shooting star. He’ll be around long after I’m gone.”

Now I was confused. “Gone?” I said carefully. “What do you mean?”

He flashed me a rock-star smile so bright like he was putting it on for the cameras, which he probably was wherever they were. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Not gone as in no longer of this world. I don’t plan on checking out. Too cliché. I just mean Gabe will be making music until he’s old and gray.”

“You don’t want to?”

Johnnie frowned. “I’m a performer, you know that.”

“Then why don’t you let Gabe contribute to your songs?”

Johnnie’s frown deepened. “Yeah, I’ve been on at Levi for ages about that, but he’s got this thing about it being the way it’s always been.” He shrugged. “Don’t worry. I’ll wear him down. It’s part of my charm. Next album I want Gabe co-writing and I’d even be happy to do a couple of his originals.”

“You’d do that?” I said in disbelief.

Johnnie strolled over to the door. “You don’t think very much of me, do you?”

“I—”

“Yeah, I know. I kinda ruined it when I kissed you. First girl my kisses have had that effect on.”

I relented with a weak smile.

“You talking to your mama yet?” he asked.

My smile froze. “Not really. I’m moving out.” I didn’t want to talk about her. For some reason—most likely an attack of the guilts now I’d made it clear I wasn’t planning on returning home—Mama had been trying to call me all morning. I hadn’t answered any of her calls. I wasn’t going to have her ruin my day with Gabe.

He reached over and rested a hand on my shoulder. For once it didn’t feel sleazy. “Can’t say that’s a bad thing for a girl like you. You’re so full of promise, but you need to navigate that on your own. Don’t burn bridges though. Family’s important.”

Johnnie dropped his hand when he registered my shocked expression. “I’m not a complete idiot, you know.”

“I don’t think you’re a complete idiot . . . ”

“Just an idiot, then.” His wicked grin had returned.

“Actually, not even an idiot,” I corrected. “More like a naughty boy.”

“Now you’re talking.”

I shoved his shoulder gently.

“Hey, do you think Faith might be interested in seeing me while we’re in Paris?” The transformation from naughty boy to shy boy was immediate.

Wow. Maybe Faith had meant something to him.

“I can ask her if you like,” I offered. “But she’ll want to be the one to contact you.”

“Yeah, I get that. She likes to be on top.”

“Waaay too much information, but yes, if you promise to be nice, I’ll ask her.”

“I’m always nice, you know that.”

I regarded him thoughtfully. Maybe I could re-evaluate my opinion of Johnnie Walsh.

“Did you mean what you said?” I asked. “About Gabe having more input?”

“Of course. We need to keep things fresh and he’ll get bored and won’t stick around if we don’t. I’d miss the son of a bitch if that happened.”

“Thank you.” Without stopping to think, I stood on tiptoes and pressed my lips to his cheek, his rough stubble grazing my lips. I cupped his opposite cheek with my hand so I didn’t lose my balance.

Johnnie leaned into me, like my sweet thank you kiss actually meant something to him, and I decided that maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

“Chloe,” he said in my ear, his deep voice soft. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think we’re on camera.”

“Oh shit!” I jumped back. How stupid was I? The paparazzi were everywhere.

Johnnie’s regular smile was back. “Don’t worry. You’re a rock chick today. They’ll just think you’re another one of my hook-ups.”

I inhaled a shaky breath. He was right. It was OK. No one would recognize me. I’d just have to warn Gabe and—

The door to the suite flew open and Gabe strode in. The expression on his face was so intense I thought for a moment he’d witnessed the kiss, but then I recognized it was worry not anger that darkened his eyes.

“Gabe!” I rushed over to him and he took my hands. “What’s wrong?”

“Your cell. Where is it?”

I nodded to the table where I’d set down my clutch when I’d come in. “There. Why?”

“Did it ring?”

“No. Why, Gabe? You’re scaring me.” Then I winced and swore under my breath. “I’m so, so sorry. I left it on silent. Mama kept calling and I didn’t want to talk to her. I’m sorry if I had you worried.”

His fingers dug into my wrists. “It’s not that. It’s your brother. That’s why your mother was trying to call.”

“What?” OK, now I was scared and I immediately felt terrible that I’d refused to take her calls.

Gabe’s gray eyes mirrored my concern. He swallowed, once, twice, like there was a bad taste in his mouth. “The picture was released. It’s all over the news. Damon’s in hospital. I’m sorry, Chloe. He tried to kill himself.”