Immaculate Iris, her inner voice grumbled a couple of weeks later as she packed. Heidi had been as dismissive of her halfhearted protests as she had feared. (Halfhearted only because she hadn’t wanted to tell her boss no outright.) Iris had quietly accepted her fate.

Her clothing was the epitome of comfort, maybe, but that was all. She had some flashier ensembles for nights out with Heidi and the kids, but none of those would be appropriate now. While Heidi had advised her not to pack too heavily, she’d said to cover all bases. A dress in case she wanted to take the kids to a nice dinner. A bathing suit in case she wanted to take them to the pool while they were at a hotel, or to the beach on one of their coastal stops. Elijah was all about going out on the water.

“Look at it as an adventure,” Heidi had told her at last. “And hey, maybe you’ll meet someone. I met Eli backstage at a show. But don’t think for a minute you can leave me if you do.” She’d laughed as she said it, wagging a carrot stick, but Iris thought she’d heard real desperation behind the jest.

“You know I don’t plan on going anywhere,” Iris had assured her. “No matter what. But, um . . . about reporting back on what he’s up to? Is that . . ?”

“Really necessary?” Heidi crunched down on her carrot and chewed thoughtfully for a moment. Iris had glanced up at her from where she was putting an afternoon snack together for the boys. “I just need to know he’s really changed. For the better.”

Was that it? Iris had bit her bottom lip before venturing further. “Like how?”

“You can get your hands on anything and everything on tour, Iris. And I know he has before. The road was his mistress, and everything that came with it. I couldn’t compete. I didn’t want to try anymore. I think he’s different now, but I need to know. He wants to spend more time with the boys. I need to feel good about that.”

Iris frowned. “I haven’t been around him much, but looks to me like he’s great with the kids. It doesn’t seem like you have anything to worry about.”

“Yeah. Doesn’t seem that way. But the ultimate test is when he’s touring. If you see anything, let me know. Make your best judgment and stick to it. You are my voice in this.” Those words had filled Iris with a strange dread.

The scene dissolved from her memory, and she angrily tossed her makeup bag into her suitcase. She was Heidi’s eyes, ears, and voice. But the thought of going head to head with Elijah Vance over his own children made her stomach churn. Plus, she didn’t even know what she was supposed to be looking for. Drugs? Did Heidi actually expect her to barge in on Eli in attempts to catch him doing something nefarious? Would he really do those things around his sons?

It was getting real. Iris was flying out with Seger and Dylan in two days for the first show in Portland, Oregon. She had expected Elijah to fight Heidi on that plan, but surprisingly enough, he had relented; the tickets were booked, and they were ready to go. The kids were beside themselves with excitement. But after that flight, it would be a long time before Iris would see her little apartment again.

There wasn’t much to miss. She lived at Heidi’s more than she lived here, but this was a haven, somewhere she could sing horribly off-key in the shower if she wanted, dance like no one was looking when the mood struck, and walk around without pants most of the time.

“None of that on the bus,” she muttered to herself, zipping her suitcase at last. All there would be on the bus was two bored tween boys and a pissed off dad who didn’t want her there. She supposed she would have to sleep crammed into one of those little bunks. Thank goodness she wasn’t claustrophobic. Much.

How had this happened again? 

Both Heidi and Sara had suggested she take this opportunity to have some fun, but what kind of fun was there to be had out there? Sex, of course, but her limited experience with her ex-fiancé hadn’t proven there to be any fun in that. Jacob hadn’t been the most considerate of lovers, and the act itself simply hadn’t done anything for her, except hurt. She didn’t see what the fuss was all about.

As for other methods of fun she might be exposed to: the only time she indulged in drinks was on rare nights out with Sara. Drugs terrified her. She would be that person who died of some freak reaction on the very first hit.

No, she was going to watch the kids, try to keep them on some kind of routine, try to let them have a good time without being too much of a nuisance on their dad. Elijah Vance might not think so, but she knew her place. And if that man could quit consuming most of her waking thoughts, she would appreciate it. Instead of trying to cast him out, though, she curled up on her couch and opened her laptop, navigating to YouTube. There were dozens, no, hundreds of videos of him performing live over the years. His voice was raw and powerful; it could soar or it could croon, but it wasn’t one that would sing you to gentle sleep at night. It was one that might give you nightmares of running blindly through a demonic fun house.

There were also countless interviews. Music videos. Scores of rabid fans worshiping him or lusting after him. They would be a joy to encounter too, she was certain. Another thing to shield his children from.

This is your mission, she told herself, watching an interview where his entire demeanor changed when the radio DJ asked him about family life. Those dimples appeared, his eyes crinkled, his entire face lightened. Iris found herself smiling too, just from watching him. He mentioned Heidi as well—a quick check of the date showed this was filmed while he was still married, and sure enough, a flashy ring was on his left ring finger. What a gut punch it must be to him to have to share his time with the kids; now he had to come face-to-face with his ex-wife’s movie star boyfriend whenever he came to pick them up. It sucked all the way around.

Iris closed her laptop, staring straight ahead. If she had anything to do with it, the Vance boys were going to have the best summer ever. She only hoped Eli let her have anything to do with it.

––––––––

THE FLIGHT ATTENDANT wanted to fuck him.

It was starting already, the same old song and dance, the coy looks, fluttering eyelashes, laughing at everything he said even if it wasn’t funny. She was blonde and statuesque, just the way he liked them. He sipped his seltzer water and tried to ignore her, checking his watch and willing this plane to hurry and land already. Eli made a point never to be rude to fans if he could help it, but fans was the operative word. His only obligation was to put out music every now and then and let them see him perform it live. Unless he was actually at a venue or in the studio, he considered himself on his own time.

It never failed, however. If someone rudely barged in on his time and he declined whatever request they made, he was lambasted as an egocentric asshole later on social media. We made him what he is, they’d say. He guessed that meant he should dance on their strings whenever the fuck they wanted. When they stalked him and picked apart what they could see of his life and drove him up the goddamn wall, he began to question whether or not it was worth it.

Mostly, it was.

Unplugging was easy. All he had to do was delete apps and avoid the world online, but damn, the isolating nature of going to those extremes was tough. What he couldn’t do was delete the people he came into contact with face-to-face, no matter how much he wanted to.

So, he set his limits. Women would always approach him; it was a given. Some of them were a delight to talk to. Some of them only wanted to see his cock. Unfortunately, until he knew what he was dealing with, female fans were all Schrödinger’s cat to him. Open her up and she might know the name of his first band out of high school, the name of Ruin’s first demo, or simply want to tell him how his lyrics had helped her with a difficult situation. Or . . . she might just want to see his cock.

In his younger days he’d been more than willing to taste the emptiness the latter sort had to offer. A night of pleasure for pleasure’s sake, he and his bandmates trying to out-fuck or out-freak each other, but he’d left that behind long ago. He’d outgrown it. He’d begun to want something real, and he’d honestly thought Heidi was the one to give it to him.

The women who approached him these days might be surprised if they discovered that inside he was only screaming Please stay the fuck away from me. He didn’t trust them.

The nanny should already be at the hotel with his kids. He wanted to be ready to see them, so aside from any sexual hang-ups he’d developed over the last several years, the flight attendant was shit out of luck. Ruin’s first show wasn’t until tomorrow night. He wasn’t sure what he and the boys would find to do, but even if they bummed around the hotel room and played video games or hung out by the pool, he was looking forward to uninterrupted time with them.

Heidi had texted him Iris’s cell phone number when she’d put the boys on the plane to Portland with her. His ex had also sent him a damn novel’s worth of pleas to look out for them, as if he wouldn’t.

He had his own bus, and no one would come on or go off without his express permission. The only people he intended to give it to besides his kids were the driver, his assistant and, he supposed, Iris.

The flight attendant looked crestfallen as he brushed past her to deplane after landing. Sorry, sweetheart, he thought. Ten years ago . . .

Ten years ago at the frenzied height of his revelry, he would’ve had her ass six ways to Sunday in the airplane bathroom. He’d inducted so many women into the Mile-High Club that trying to remember them all was futile. It wasn’t something to brag about, merely a simple truth: he loved fucking at forty-thousand feet.

Ten years ago, though, his flight attendant might’ve still been in high school, so yeah. Wasn’t meant to be any way you sliced it.

Walking through the gate with his head down, he thumbed through the contacts on his phone until he reached Iris’s name and opened a message. Just landed. Found anything to do around there?

She was a long time replying; he’d located his driver and slid into the back of the shiny black SUV before her response popped up. He wondered if his question had prompted her to go out and explore a bit. There’s a nice pool.

That actually sounded fucking awesome. No matter how long or short, flights always wore him out, even after all these long years jetting around the world. It was the boredom. Hence the mile-high misadventures. Get them ready and I’ll swing by in an hour. Give me the room number.

Later, she answered his knock wearing a pink terrycloth bathing suit cover-up, a big floppy straw hat, and oversized sunglasses. The scent of sunscreen wafted from the room, and he cocked an eyebrow at her. “I’m fully capable of taking my kids to the pool by myself,” he said crossly, and her pink lips fell slightly apart as her tentative smile faded.

“Oh, um . . . all right.” She looked back over the shoulder. “Hey, guys. Out the door, dinosaur.”

Great, now he felt like a dick. She’d spent a majority of her day wrangling the boys on a plane, something he hadn’t had to worry about. Nothing wrong with her enjoying some pool time too. “But whatever,” he added, looking behind her to where Seger and Dylan were scuttling about, getting towels and goggles together.

“I could go to the spa, or—”

“You’re already dressed, so you might as well come with us.”

“Come on, Iris!” Dylan yelled jubilantly, barreling past her out of the room, his goggles already on his face and a snorkel gripped in his hand. Seger was right behind him, adding his own enthusiastic invitation. Well, they wanted her there, at least. Heidi had been right about that: they did seem to like this woman.

The boys bombed down the hallway to the elevator ahead while Iris fell in awkwardly beside Eli, her flip-flops flip-flopping with each step she took. Her feet were cute with sky blue toenails and a dainty silver anklet hugging one slim ankle. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder even with her ridiculously big hat on. She was quiet, lacing her fingers together as the four of them stood waiting for the elevator, after Seger and Dylan argued for a good thirty seconds over who would push the button. Did it matter that much? He hadn’t grown up with siblings, so he was often in exasperation over the petty shit kids fought over.

He tried his damnedest not to brood. In fact, he didn’t know exactly why Iris’s presence grated on him so; he could always ignore her—he was somewhat of an expert at that. Screaming fans? Walk on by. Heidi bitching at him? Whatever. Horny flight attendants? No time. Iris in pink smelling of coconut and bananas and smiling adoringly at his sons as they filed into the elevator? Damn the woman. His teeth were on edge. He worked his jaw back and forth to loosen the muscles.

She kept her distance, at least, once they reached the pool area. Except for a few kids who would no doubt be best friends with his boys by the time they left, the pool itself was mostly empty. A few parents lounged nearby, either under umbrellas or in the chairs lined up poolside. Iris perched on one of these, keeping her robe on, though it was short enough to show him she had a nice set of legs, long for her height, slender, smooth looking. Her skin had a dewy glow that was hard to ignore. Hell, he knew Heidi Vance had spent a fortune striving for that effect.

Not that he should be looking at Iris’s fucking legs. Nor should he be indulging the image that flashed through his mind: those long, slender, smooth legs hugging his hips.

Control yourself, dumbass. His nerve endings had come alive, zinging with energy that coalesced in his cock, and the last thing he needed was to have to dive into the water to hide a hard-on. What the fuck was he, twelve?

Seger cannonballed into the water, jerking him away from his slack-jawed idiocy. Dylan followed closely behind with a battle cry, and Eli directed his attention to his sons, absently hoping the sunglasses he wore and the ball cap he’d tucked his hair into would disguise him from any potential fans who might have figured out where he was staying. You could never be too careful, but this crowd didn’t look like his demographic.

He eased himself down so that his legs dangled in the water, noticing when, across the pool, Iris pulled a paperback from her bag and settled back on her lounge chair. She was too far away for him to make out what she was reading, but he could appreciate that she favored the tactile pleasure of a book in her hands instead of a phone or tablet. He was the same, on the rare occasion that he had time to read.

Why did she keep her damn cover-up on? Any show of modesty in a woman that attractive had to be some kind of ploy. More importantly, why did he care?

“Dad, come in,” Dylan called.

“In a minute,” he said, keeping his face toward his boys but his eyes on the nanny.

She turned a page, drew one knee up a little higher, the sun kissing her flawless skin. Heidi must’ve been out of her damn mind to send this one. What the hell are you playing at, lady?

Because unlike many of the women he encountered, this one didn’t seem to want to fuck him.

He never trusted that, either.