Chapter Fourteen
Connor watched from off stage as Janelle floundered around like a fish out of water. At least she wasn’t ‘singing.’ He gave an annoyed snort. Why anyone would choose that talentless woman over Evie, he didn't know. Evie had explained something about social media followers and ticket sales, but he still didn't understand. Wasn't this professional theater? Shouldn't they be getting the best singer, actress, and dancer (i.e., Evie) for the job?
Plus, there was the fact that he wanted to wring Janelle's neck for the way she treated Evie. He had to be civil to the girl, at the very least, but he didn't even try to be nice. He also made it a point to never be alone with her, not even for a second. A couple of days ago, she tried to pull some trick where she was changing into her costume and ‘accidentally' dropped her towel. He quickly turned around and marched out of her dressing room.
This entire job was torture, and he couldn't wait for it to finish. Right now, he'd rather be facing South American thugs or insurgents in war-torn countries than having to spend another minute around that crazy pop star, her adoring fans, and the frenzied press camping outside the theater. Why anyone would want or need such attention was beyond him. Who the hell wanted this kind of life? Being hounded by photographers and autograph-seekers all the damned time?
Of course, there was one advantage to working here. His eyes locked on Evie, who was standing by the stage, talking to a couple of her castmates. He looked appreciatively down the line of her body, admiring the curves and dips. Her ass looked particularly biteable in her yoga pants, and he had to adjust his crotch to make sure no one saw how turned on he was.
Connor couldn't remember feeling as content as he had in the last week. He also couldn't remember sleeping as soundly as he did when Evie was in bed next to him. After that first night together, he wouldn't let her sleep anywhere but in his bed (though, truthfully, they spent more time not sleeping in it).
As if she read his mind, Evie turned in his direction. Their eyes locked, and her skin got that pretty blush she always got when she caught him looking at her. She bit her lip, and he let out a small groan.
"Connor, Connor. Connor!" Janelle stamped her feet, and Connor snapped his head back.
“What?” He could barely contain his annoyance.
"I'm ready to go back to my dressing room," she said. Her eyes followed his gaze, and, when they landed on Evie, her eyes turned into narrow slits. "Let's go," she huffed and flipped her hair.
“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth as he followed her.
The rest of the day's rehearsal progressed much too slow for Connor, and all he wanted to do was get the fuck out and take Evie home. Tomorrow was Saturday, which meant they were both off. He was looking forward to an entire weekend of staying in bed. Hmmm, maybe a nice dinner at the Mexican place near the hotel, too. Evie sure had an appetite, and he was more than happy to make sure she was properly fed before going back to bed. She needed her energy, after all.
***
The ringing in the middle of the night startled him, and, for a moment, he thought the nightmares were coming back after not having them for a while. Instead of grasping for the digital watch under his pillow, he reached across the bed. Evie. He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt her soft body next to him. But what was that ringing?
He sat up and looked at his phone. Not his. Glancing over at Evie’s bedside, he saw her phone glowing.
"Evie," he whispered, shaking her gently on the shoulders. "Evie, your phone's ringing."
“Hmmm?” She muttered in a sleepy voice, brushing her hair off her face. She sat up slowly, glancing around and then grabbing her phone. “Hello? Arthur?”
Arthur? Connor felt ugly jealousy rising in him. Who the fuck was this other man calling Evie in the middle of the night?
“Slow down …” Evie said. “What …” She paused. “Tell me again.” Reaching for the bedside table, she switched the light on.
Connor watched as Evie listened to the caller and slowly grew pale. Something was wrong, he could feel it.
“I’m on my way,” she said in a shaky voice. “I’ll take the first flight I can.”
"Evie?" Before she could explain, she jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
What the heck was going on? Connor rolled off the bed and lumbered to the door. "Evie?" he called, knocking on the door.
He opened the door and saw her scrambling for her discarded jeans before slipping into them. “Evie?”
She looked up at him, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "It's my brother. I mean, he called. My dad …" She choked up, then went very still, then sank down on the toilet. "He had a heart attack and …" A cry tore from her throat.
Connor crossed the bathroom in two strides and gathered her to him. "I'm sorry." She let out a sob and buried her face in his chest.
“I … I have to go and make sure … airport …” she said between hiccups.
A fierce, protective feeling washed over him. No way was he letting her go to the airport by herself. “Evie, I’ll take care of this okay? Don’t you worry.” He rubbed a soothing hand over her back. “Just relax. Everything will be okay.”