As Wade had predicted, guests started showing up before Trina finished her second cup of coffee. There were friends of Vicki’s who didn’t linger after Wade introduced her to them. Gus was part of Wade’s band and one of the first members that he toured with after he cut his first album. Then there was Jerry. The only man at the party not wearing denim or boots. Jerry had a couple of inches on Trina, was probably in his early forties, and still had all his dark brown hair. He was an attractive man, and from the way he looked around the room at other people, and especially her, he knew it.
“Who do we have here?” Jerry asked as he nudged Wade and peered at Trina.
Wade placed a possessive arm over Trina’s shoulders as he made his introductions. “Watch this one, Trina, he’ll try and turn you into one of my backup singers.”
She laughed. “Good luck with that, I only sing in the shower.”
Wade lifted a flirty eyebrow. “This, I wanna see.”
“Uhm, hello?”
“Sorry, Jerry.” Wade wasn’t sorry. “This is Trina. Jerry is my agent.”
Jerry shook Trina’s hand with a telling squeeze. Trina kept a smile on her face even though she wanted to pull her hand away as soon as she could and wipe it on her jeans.
“How come I’ve never heard of this beautiful creature?”
“You’re hearing about her now,” Wade explained.
“A pleasure,” she lied.
“Smooth and slightly exotic voice, are you sure you’re not a singer?”
Wade nudged her. “Told you.” His gaze went over the top of Trina’s head and his smile waned.
She followed his gaze.
Vicki was across the lawn, talking to a tall, leggy, stunning blonde. Big hair, huge smile, and boobs that would do Dolly Parton proud. She wore the boots, the hat, and the short denim skirt that not many women pulled off well. And she was staring directly at Wade.
Jordyn.
He placed his lips next to Trina’s ear. “I should talk to her first, before I introduce you.”
“Go. I’m fine here.” Trina didn’t turn when she felt eyes burning into the back of her skull.
“You sure?”
“I’m a big girl.”
He kissed the side of her head and left her with Jerry.
“You know what the best part about country music is?” he asked as he took a giant step closer.
“What is that?”
“Songs about love triangles always race up the charts.”
She tried not to look toward Wade and failed. He’d approached Jordyn, and she’d leaned in for a hug.
Trina looked away, not wanting to watch.
She found Jerry staring at her.
“I think you’re going to be good for our Wade.”
“‘Our’?” He made Wade sound like a possession.
“For his musical muse. Perfect timing, too.”
Trina wasn’t following him. “How is that?”
“Between albums, between tours. Soak up a little love, a little heartache.”
Trina stopped pretending to smile. “You want his heart to ache?”
Jerry seemed to catch himself, and he shook his head. “Oh, you know what I mean.”
Yeah, she did. Wade Thomas was a meal ticket to someone like Jerry, and the man didn’t even try to hide it. Trina didn’t want to spend another minute at the man’s side.
“There is something I need to do,” she said as she took a step back.
“Nice meeting you,” he said.
She just smiled and walked away. “Asshole.”
Avery could finally breathe. She’d dumped the six-figure watch along with several of its five-figure brothers with an auction house on Madison Avenue and searched out lunch with a view of Central Park. The crisp morning blossomed into a balmy afternoon. The temptation to stay in Manhattan the entire afternoon and spend some money tickled her shopping bone. Then she remembered her last credit card bill and the amount of money she’d spent on things that were sitting in her LA condominium, collecting dust.
She sat at the top of Bergdorf Goodman, sipping her chardonnay, playing with her salad, and considered it a compromise. Eating in one of the most expensive and famous department stores would have to do. Maybe when she returned to collect the money after the sale of Fedor’s trinkets, she would indulge. But for now, she would try her hand at a budget. Her parents had tried to teach her money management since she was in college . . . well, her father attempted, her mother told her to marry a rich man. Her thirty-first birthday had passed the month before, so maybe a new leaf was in order.
The waiter returned to her table. Early twenties, tall, camera ready . . . he was yummy in all the right places. “Another wine?”
“I shouldn’t.” She was driving.
“How about some fresh bread to go with the second glass?” He flirted with his smile.
“If you insist.”
She checked out his ass as he walked away.
He returned a couple of minutes later and poured from an open bottle. “I’m sorry about the cork.”
She glanced at the glass. “What cork?”
He winked. “The cork that accidentally managed to slip into your drink. I’ll have to comp this for you.”
“Ah, that’s very nice . . .” She glanced at his name tag. “Norman . . .” She tried not to laugh. “Your name is Norman?”
“Blame my parents.”
“Well, thank you.”
She nibbled on the bread, drank the wine, and checked her e-mail while lifting her gaze every once in a while to see if Norman was watching her.
The next time he came to the table, he didn’t ask if she wanted another glass of wine. “I get off at six.”
Damn it . . .
She needed to get back on the highway. There was still so much to do at Trina’s house. This was a job. One she was actually going to get paid to do.
Norman, the booty call, wasn’t on the schedule.
“I’m going to have to pass.” Adulting sucked! “Work.”
“What if I gave you my number?”
She smiled. “I don’t live in town, but I do visit often.”
“Sounds perfect to me.”
Avery waltzed out of Bergdorf Goodman with an energy she didn’t have walking in. She’d spent the morning conducting business. Real business. Had a little mostly liquid lunch that resulted in a phone number and a promise. Apparently she could be a proper adult and pick up a hottie, even if his name was Norman.
She buzzed through a portion of Central Park in an effort to work off any of the liquor she’d consumed. She hadn’t finished that last glass of wine, even though she’d been tempted to do so.
Adulting.
She was adulting, damn it.
The hour to hit the freeway and avoid the bulk of traffic fast approached, so she made her way to the parking garage. As she did, she checked her phone for messages.
Nothing.
Which had started to bug her. With all of the male attention she found, there wasn’t anyone who took the effort to check on her just to see if she was okay. Even her parents didn’t bother with any real consistency. Only her new friends filled that void. Lori would call when she was in town, or stop by for a glass of wine. Avery knew she was the one to most often sneak up on Lori and Reed and invite herself over for a drink or dinner. The advantage of living in the same building.
Shannon had started calling her on occasion, although the two of them didn’t hang out as much as they probably should. Maybe the conservative nature of Shannon would rub off on Avery if she spent more time with the woman. If anyone knew how to adult, it was Shannon. The woman still played the part of political wife several years after the marriage was over.
But Trina was Avery’s go-to. They were alike in so many ways.
She clicked on her messages and pulled up Trina’s name.
I know you’re in the middle of the big party, just dropping a note to say that everything in NY went well. Fedor liked really expensive things.
She glanced up, saw her car, and fished for the keys in the bottom of her mom bag while she texted with one thumb.
En route to the house so call if you need to talk. Texting and driving in NY is just asking for trouble.
Avery pressed send at the same time something huge smashed into her side and threw her onto the pavement.
Her first thought was that she’d walked into something, or because she was on her phone, she’d become one of those YouTube videos of distracted people walking into a pond. But then she saw a boot coming toward her face, and she realized this wasn’t an accident.
She tried to move, covered her head.
Never in her life had Avery been kicked. The pain was unimaginable. She tasted warm salt in her mouth as she cowered on the ground.
Roll away!
Do something!
She tried, only her body was a heavy, solid mass that needed to lose a hundred pounds. When the next hit came, she lost the ability to think about anything.
Chapter Seventeen
“There you are.” Finding his way back to Trina’s side was like swimming through a sea of fans that found the exit door from the stage to his limo. Even his friends didn’t understand that he wanted his attention somewhere else.
As for Jordyn, the woman didn’t understand the words we’re over.
“There is someone here with me,” he’d told her.
“I heard,” Jordyn had said, looking over his shoulder.
Wade attempted to block her gaze in case Trina felt it.
Jordyn leaned in close . . . too close. “It’s okay, baby. We all have to have our diversions.”