I had an absolutely crazy day in Miami.
I had two television interviews followed by a radio interview and a photo shoot. Normally, I was able to squeeze in an hour or two of down time before I had to make my way to the arena for sound check, but that wasn't the case in Miami. My whole afternoon was go, go, go, and the next thing I knew, I was getting hair and makeup done for the show.
I missed having my right-hand man, Trevor, by my side, but Daniel Bishop had done an excellent job filling in for him. He was courteous, protective, and all the things that Trevor was. The only difference was that Daniel was extremely quiet and didn't seem impressed by me at all.
He wasn't impolite, but he certainly didn't go out of his way to make me feel like I had hung the moon (which was somehow simultaneously refreshing and heartbreaking). He was so stoic that multiple times throughout the day I had caught myself being goofy and trying to make him smile just because I wanted to see him do it like one of those British soldiers. He would offer me a courtesy grin, but it was obvious that he was there to do the job of protecting me rather than being distracted with becoming my friend.
We were at the arena for about seven hours. The actual show didn't last that long, of course, but a lot went into it, and I was always really exhausted by the time we left. My set list for this tour had twenty-two songs with four wardrobe changes, and I poured every last ounce of energy I had into it. The show had been over for an hour by the time we left the arena, and fans were still standing by the loading dock, waiting to catch a glimpse of me getting into the limo. I could tell Daniel and Trevor had been trained by the same people because Daniel handled the situation just like Trevor would have done, ushering me into the back of the car with quick precision.
He and I were the only two in the back seat on the trip from the arena to the hotel, and I stared straight ahead replaying moments of the concert and thinking about things I should have done differently.
Daniel's hand was resting on his thigh, and I glanced down at it, feeling an odd sense of longing and maybe a little attraction toward him. In my tired haze, I began to compare him to Trevor, and I wondered why I was attracted to him when I had never felt that way toward Trevor.
I stared at his hand. If he were Trevor, he would've put his arm around me instead of keeping it to himself. Longing for the touch and reassurance that Trevor normally provided after a show, I leaned over and rested my head on Daniel's shoulder.
"The show went well," he said.
He smelled different than Trevor. Trevor always smelled like cologne, whereas Daniel smelled masculine and woodsy, but in a more natural way—it was almost like I had to get right next to him to even tell that he smelled at all. Once I did, I found out that it was really worth it.
"Thank you," I said. "Where's your sister?"
"With Nina," he said.
"Did they go back to the hotel?"
"Yes."
"I think she had fun backstage," I said, hoping I could make him say more than two words to me if I continued talking about his sister.
"She did."
He sat up and shifted, glancing out of the back window, checking our surroundings and making sure we weren't being followed.
"Did you like the show?" I asked.
"Yes ma'am."
A few seconds of silence passed.
"Why didn't you tell me that?"
"I did," he said.
"No, you didn't."
"I'm sorry. I don't think I understand what you're saying."
"You said the show went well, but you didn't say that you liked it."
"I thought that was the same thing."
"No, it's not."
"Well, I liked it," he said.
"Why do you seem so unimpressed?"
"I'm not unimpressed, I'm just trying to do my job—keep you safe. I didn't think you were interested in my opinion. I did like it. You did a good job. I liked how you got everybody pumped up backstage before the show. I've never seen anybody do that."
"Did you like the gold outfit?" I asked.
I regretted it the instant came out of my mouth. I knew it made me sound desperate. The gold outfit I was referring to was a barely-there sequin number, which all the guys seemed to love on account of how little of my skin it covered. I only brought it up because I was desperate to get a rise out of him and I didn't know how else to do it. I had been trying in different, more subtle ways all day with no success, so the comment about the gold outfit was sort of a last-ditch effort.
"That was my least favorite outfit, if you want to know the truth."
His words caused a stabbing sensation in my chest, and I cringed inwardly at the feeling of rejection.
"Thanks a lot," I said sarcastically.
"I'm not trying to be mean, it's just that outfits like that cause men feel a certain way, and from a security standpoint, those are the types of feelings I like to avoid."
He used the opportunity to glance out the window again as if to prove his point. "Men already feel that way about you, even when you're all covered up with clothes."
"So, you're saying they don't need the encouragement of the gold outfit?" I asked.
"No, they don't."
"What about you?"
"What about me?"
"How do you feel about me?"
"You're a beautiful woman."
"Are you married?" I asked.
"No."
"I didn't see a ring, but I thought you must be married because of what a gentleman you are."
He didn't say anything after that. I didn't ask him any more questions, but I thought he would make small talk like Trevor, and he didn't. I laid my head on his shoulder and we rode in silence for a few minutes until we finally pulled up at the hotel.
Daniel put his arm around me and walked me inside in the practiced way of a true professional. We were the only two in the elevator as we rode upstairs.
"I've got a room right next to yours," he said. "Denise said I could stay in your suite since Trevor had a bedroom in there, but I've got Ivy with me, and we're already settled in our room. Denise wrote my number down so you would have it. I have a key to your suite. Just give me a call if you need anything tonight."
"Nina and them are coming up to my room to hang out for a little while before we go to bed," I said. "I told your sister she could come by."
"That was nice of you, but she's too young for that."
"What do you mean, she's too young?"
"She's not of age. She can't be partying."
I felt offended by his words, like he thought I was some drug addict and he didn't want his little sister hanging around me.
"We're not partying," I said. "We're just hanging out and talking and decompressing for a little while because otherwise it's hard for me to go to sleep."
He glanced at me, and his expression softened when he saw that I was a little offended. "I'm sure she would really love to hang out," he said. "Thank you for including her."
Daniel came into my room before he went to his own. He swept the place more thoroughly than Trevor ever did, looking under beds, in closets, on the patio, and even on the rooftop access by the pool. It took him ten minutes. "I'll be right next door," he said when he was satisfied that the place was safe.
I smiled. "Thank you," I said. "You did a good job even though you're not quite Trevor."
He smiled at that. "Thank you."
***
It was customary after every show for a few people to come to my room to hang out and talk or watch TV. We never talked about the performance—we just hung out and pretended like we were normal people who weren't in a different city every night.
I was happy that Ivy had come that evening, and not just because she was a nice girl. It was also because I was intrigued by Daniel and secretly wanted to get more information about him.
Miami was a beautiful city, and the panoramic view of the Atlantic Ocean from my penthouse suite was breathtaking, even at night. It was hot out, so everyone was hanging out in the living room, but Ivy went onto the patio, and after a minute, I followed her. She was looking down at her phone when I came outside, and she quickly put it in her pocket before turning to smile at me.
"I didn't mean to interrupt you," I said.
"You didn't," she said. "I just came out here to text my brother. He was checking on me."
"That's sweet of him," I said. I came to stand next to her at the edge of the balcony. It was warm out, but the wind was blowing, and I took a long slow breath in through my nose, taking in the salty ocean air. "The ocean is good for you," I said.
"I'm gonna try to go for a swim tomorrow before we leave," Ivy said. "Daniel said he doesn't think we'll have time, but I'll end up talking him into it if we get up early enough."
"We'll definitely have time for a swim," I said. "We have the day off tomorrow. We're not leaving for New Orleans until after dinner, I think."
"Yeah, but we're going back to Memphis—me and Daniel. I think our flight's at noon or one. Daniel said something about his replacement being here in the morning."
I literally felt sick at the mention of Daniel leaving. I already lived my life on the verge of being nauseous, anyway, and the news of him leaving after only one day made me feel rejected and heartbroken.
"Does your brother not like me or something?" I asked.
Ivy glanced at me with a concerned expression. "Who, Daniel?"
"Yes."
"No, no, no, he likes you. I think he knew he was only filling in for one day while they found a more permanent solution. Daniel doesn't usually work with clients. He normally stays home in Memphis and trains the guys at Alpha rather than going on the road. He just did this because we were right there in Orlando."
"What if I want him to stay with me until Trevor gets back?" I asked. "I'm the one paying for it. What if I don't want another substitute?"
Ivy shrugged innocently and made a face like she didn't really want to get involved. "I know Daniel doesn't normally work with clients," she repeated.
"Does he not like me?" I repeated, feeling hurt.
"No, he likes you a lot," she said.
"Why doesn’t he act like it? He barely says more than two words to me."
"That's just Daniel. He's quiet. He's always like that. He carries a lot of stuff around with him."
"Like what?"
Ivy paused for a second and then looked over her shoulder, hesitating as if she thought her brother might hear her.
"Don't tell anybody I told you this," she whispered.
I nodded.
"He and my brother, Owen, had an accident when we were younger. I was just a little kid. Daniel and Owen were in middle school."
"What happened?"
"They took one of my dad's motorcycles without permission. Daniel was twelve. He was driving, and they had a really bad accident. Nobody died or anything, but Owen got hurt really bad. He's got a pretty noticeable scar all down the side of his face, and he has a fake leg."
"A fake leg?" I asked, thinking I hadn't heard her correctly. I glanced at her and she nodded, looking over her shoulder again.
"His right leg," she whispered. "He doesn't have a foot or anything. He uses a prosthesis."
"Seriously?"
She nodded sadly. "Owen doesn't hold it against Daniel, but my parents say Daniel's never really forgiven himself. He went off the deep end right after it happened. He got into drugs and stuff. He was pretty wild for a few years. My mom cried all the time. My parents were scared he was trying to kill himself. That's why Uncle Gray started training him with martial arts and stuff. He's fine now. He's stable and he doesn't drink or do drugs or anything, but he also doesn't really let go and have fun like he did when we were kids. I think he feels too guilty for that. He'll say the accident has nothing to do with it, but we all know it does. He hasn't been the same since then. I know he wishes he could trade places with Owen. I think, in the back of his mind, he thinks Owen won't be able to find a girlfriend or wife with his leg the way it is, so Daniel doesn't date girls. He didn't even go to the high school prom or anything. I heard our mom say he unintentionally tries to punish himself."
I thought of Daniel. I thought of his physical appearance and marveled at how crazy it was someone who looked like him and could probably have any girl he wanted refused to date. I quietly contemplated everything Ivy had just said, feeling like my heart was broken for him.
"I shouldn't have told you all that," she said, seeing me go introspective. "He would kill me if he knew I told you. I don't want you to judge him because of what I said. He really is a great person. That was a long time ago."
"I'm really glad you told me that," I said. "I was trying to get him to laugh all day today, and he just kept being so serious. I thought maybe he didn't like me or something."
"No, he really likes you. He told me before I came over here that he thought you were cool."
"Then why is he getting someone else to fill in for Trevor? Why doesn't he just stay with me until Trevor gets better?"
Ivy shrugged. "I don't know," she said. "You'll have to ask him that. But I think it's because he doesn't normally work with clients. Usually he stays home at the training center in Memphis."