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Lost in the Beat Page 9


  “Hi.” Fallon greeted the customer at her table with a smile. “What can I get you to drink?”

  “Coffee.” The man looked her over like she amused him somehow. She glanced down, but couldn’t find anything out of place.

  “Cream and sugar?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll let you look over the menu, and I’ll be back in a minute with your coffee.” She tucked her pen and order pad in her apron pocket and scurried to the coffee pot. As she walked away she fancied she could feel his slimy gaze on her.

  After pouring the mug full, she glanced up to spy him gawking and not attempting to hide his interest. Skin crawling, she couldn’t place why he bothered her. There wasn’t anything offensive about his looks, or seemingly dangerous either. But he gave her the creeps the way he stared at her, kind of in a sensational sort of way. Like he knew a secret about her that even she had yet to discover.

  Fallon elbowed her co-worker Rebecca to get her attention. “Do you know that guy at table three?”

  Her coworker glanced around, studied him a moment. Realizing he was being checked out, he winked at them.

  “No,” Rebecca said. “I’m glad I don’t. He looks like a douchebag. He sure is watching you though. Listen…” She put her hand on Fallon’s arm. “Be polite, but not over friendly. He’ll get the hint.”

  Fallon nodded. She’d dealt with her fair share of jerks over the last several months. Even those that thought free gropes came with every meal. She’d be able to manage this one too.

  Making her way to him without spilling the coffee, she placed the mug on the table as a news van pulled up outside along with several other vehicles.

  Looks like we’re about to get busy.

  She removed her pen and order pad from her apron. “Have you decided on anything?”

  “Yes.” He set his menu aside and she noticed a camera chest level, tilted upward. The lighting was bright enough no bulbs flashed, but she could hear the shutter of the device.

  “What are you doing?” She smacked her pad in front of the camera’s lens.

  “You’re Jase Collins’ baby-momma, right?”

  Fallon gasped.

  Jase said the words with amusement, but this man made it sound like a slur. Customers began to buzz as a flood of folks entered the establishment.

  “You’re not his typical piece of ass.”

  Shocked by his insult, she inhaled sharply.

  “Ms. Morgan!” Flashes did go off this time, and she glanced up as a recorder was shoved into her face. “Why’s Jase got you working?”

  “He had to know we’d find her,” someone else muttered.

  He’d tried to send Tex with her, but she’d refused. Swarmed by paparazzi with cameras going off around her, the questions and comments flew at her without any hope of her being able to respond.

  “Are you sleeping with Jase again?

  “She’s a mess.”

  “She looks haggard.”

  “Is that another baby bump, Ms. Morgan?”

  Fallon touched her flat belly with an audible hiss of shock at the insult to her figure.

  “He’s got her working. That proves he’s an asshole.

  The questions and comments were coming so fast, she couldn’t pinpoint who said what, but that didn’t halt her from trying to locate the speaker.

  “Is it true, Ms. Morgan, that you’re living with Jase?”

  “Is your hair color fake or real?”

  “Look how ragged her hair is, that only comes from too much process.”

  “Did Jase insist you work?”

  “The poor girl looks exhausted.”

  “She obviously doesn’t mean much to him.” Spying that individual, Fallon narrowed her gaze on him.

  “Did you feel like you hit the lottery when you found out you were pregnant?” A woman asked, and Fallon looked at her.

  Before she could answer, someone else asked, “Are you currently sleeping with Jase Collins?”

  “No!” Surprised that any of them would’ve thought that, she glanced at the faces surrounding her. They’d circled her. The shutter of pictures continued to sound, while she noted at least two who filmed. “Please, go away.”

  Someone in the group laughed.

  “Ms. Morgan, why do you think Jase picked you and not another groupie?”

  “Did you intentionally get pregnant?”

  “Ms. Morgan!” Another thrust a recorder in her face. “Give us the salacious details why Jase is forcing you to work?”

  “I need to work.” She defended herself.

  “That jackass is probably making her pay her own way too.” A female pap to her right sneered.

  “I bet he tried to pay her to go away.”

  “Yeah!” Another said with eagerness. “That’s the story I want.”

  They had everything wrong, were making up news to sensationalize her life and stir up further drama. Anything to sell more papers. How’d Jase or other celebrities deal with this on a daily basis?

  Tears stung her eyes and blurred her vision. Unable to take any more, Fallon shoved against the line they’d made around her and burst through them, almost blind with tears by the time she made it to the sanctuary of the bathroom. She flung the lock on the door and slid to the floor, letting the waterworks come.

  Humiliation burned through her. How much of that would be in a tabloid or on television? Jase had warned her this would happen, had tried to send Tex with her this morning, and she’d refused.

  If she ever needed proof she miscalculated his world, she’d just been taught lesson one. The hard way, Jase had wished that upon her.

  Pounding rattled the door. “Fallon. You can’t stay in there.”

  Her boss.

  If he thought she would go back out there and face that mob squad, he’d lost his mind!

  “Go away.” Her hands shook when she lifted them to press the heels of her palms into her eyes.

  “We have customers.”

  Customers couldn’t be waited on if she couldn’t get to them. She pulled her knees to her chest and ignored him. A few minutes later she heard a feminine voice talking to him. Probably one of the vile reporters trying to talk her way into the bathroom since her boss possessed the only key to the door. For enough money, he would unlock the door. She prayed for a break from the insanity.

  A few moments later, her suspicions came true. The lock on the door disengaged, and she looked up to see a somewhat regular customer entering the room.

  She secured the door once more, dangled the keys in the air, and said, “No one is getting in until you’re ready to leave. Names Eva Radcliff.”

  Fallon sent her a weak smile of thanks. “I know who you are.”

  Of course she knew. Even with the blonde wig, anyone would recognize the actress. She’d waited on the celebrity numerous times but had respected her privacy.

  “This isn’t the most sanitary place to sit.” With a grimace the other woman sat beside her on the floor regardless of their unhygienic locale. “So…Jase Collins, huh?”

  Expecting a snide or garish comment, maybe even a probing question, she sent the other woman a wary glance.

  “I’m not judging. He’s pretty hot, got a sexy ‘rebel without a cause’ vibe going on. You could do worse. I’ve done worse. Made bigger mistakes.” Eva blew out a weary sounding breath. “You got a cell?”

  Fallon shifted and dug the phone out of her jean’s pocket. “Who you calling?”

  “Someone to rescue your ass.”

  “The police?” She suspected her boss would hate that more than an atheist would hate sitting on the front church pew, with a preacher spewing a fire and brimstone sermon.

  Eva grunted while finagling Fallon’s cell.

  The man seated across from Jase presented a cold, cynical persona. Dressed like a mob hit man in a pricy suit, Rainard—Rain for short—wore a scar that slashed across his left cheek to the corner of his mouth. A forget-me-not event for sure, but Jase held no interest for
how he acquired the disfigurement. He returned Jase’s stare with serene contemplation. As former Special Forces, Jase felt positive the military-man could perform the job Jase desired, but he needed his family to feel safe with Rain too. And at the moment he doubted the bodyguard’s ability to tone down the intimidating demeanor reeking from him.

  Fang’s bodyguard, Tex, gave Rain high accolades. That attested to a lot because it took more than the average tactical skill to impress Tex. And he knew Tex would take the safety of his family as seriously as Jase. Tex and Rain worked a covert operation together once several years ago. Jase curbed his interest even though the word ‘covert’ amplified his curiosity.

  Jase glanced at Derr and elevated his eyebrows, his traditional silent inquest for an opinion. His band mate shrugged and then gave a nod, followed by another shrug.

  That is enlightening.

  His cell buzzed.

  “Excuse me.” Jase peeked at caller I.D.

  Fallon.

  After suffering her rejection this morning, he considered ignoring the call. Curious what desperation would drive her to seek him—probably checking to make sure I’m not letting Faith cry without consoling her or some petty shit like that—he connected the call. “Yeah?”

  “Mr. Collins? Jase Collins?” The unfamiliar female voice snagged his attention. In the background he thought he heard someone pounding on a door and yelling. “Go away, you dumb shit!” The unidentified caller huffed in irritation. “Sorry about that. The manager is being an ass. As usual.”

  Jase sat up straight. “Who is this? Where is Fallon?”

  “I’m Eva Radcliff, and I’m with Fallon at the restaurant. The paparazzi have taken over the restaurant—”

  “Goddamn it.” He vandalized his hair with his fingers.

  “—and harassed Fallon. She’s in tears thanks to those heartless fucks.” Had this not been a tense moment, Jase would’ve smiled at the actress’ cursing. “We’re hiding out in the ladies’ restroom because her boss refuses to call the police, and I’m pretty sure I’ve been made. There’s no way I’m getting out of here with her without the pap following us. I thought I’d call you before I called the police.”

  “Forget them. I’m on my way.” Jase went to his feet before he finished giving orders. “Call me if anything else happens before I arrive.”

  He pocketed his cell as he detailed the conversation.

  Rain rose from his seat, his shoulders as broad as Jase’s sofa, and that was only a slight exaggeration. “Allow me to assist you with this trouble, Mr. Collins.”

  “It’s Jase. Consider your assistance a test-run for the job.”

  “I’m going with you.” Before Jase could argue with his bass guitarist, Derr went on, “You’ll need someone to drive one of the cars back.”

  Jase couldn’t argue with that, and neither did Rain.

  When they arrived at the restaurant, it looked like a circus had set up in the parking lot. Not a police cruiser in sight. Jase was stunned none of the customers had put a call in to the law.

  “I’ll go in and get her.” Rain surveyed the area like a man stuck in the middle of a war zone.

  “I doubt Fallon will come out of the restroom for you. She doesn’t know you, and she’s smart enough to figure out a reporter might try and lure her out using any means necessary.”

  Rain’s emotionless brown eyes settled on him. “Call her and let her know I’m coming in.”

  He nodded toward the establishment. “They want a show, I’ll give them one. I’ll kill two birds with one stone and make Tab happy in the process.”

  “Since when do you give a shit about making Tab happy?” From the backseat Derr thumbed Jase on the shoulder.

  “I don’t, but a little goodwill can buy me brownie points.” All he really cared about was getting to Fallon and making sure she was okay. “I’ll allow you to lead the way, Rain.”

  “It’d be safer if you allowed me—”

  “I am going inside to get her.” The quicker Rain understood that, the sooner Fallon would get to safety.

  “Tex said you’d be difficult.”

  “I didn’t get where I am today by being agreeable.”

  For the first time, he saw a crack in Rain’s demeanor. A thin grin touched just the corners of his mouth. “Fair enough.” The for-hire bodyguard gripped the door handle and met Derr’s gaze. “Once we exit the vehicle, I want you to drive straight back home. I’ll transport Jase and Fallon in her vehicle.”

  “He makes you two sound like a package, Jase.” Derr chuckled, but when he realized Rain was anything but amused, he said, “Got it. I won’t let you down. Sir.”

  Had the moment not been tense, Jase would’ve laughed at Derr’s formal salute. Jase didn’t wait for further instructions, just threw open the car door and strode toward the building. Aware Rain cursed and scrambled after him, he maintained his steps at a brisk pace. One-by-one paparazzi realized he approached and surrounded him, tossing out questions and snapping photos. Rain led them through the throng of reporters with impressive efficiency. Once inside the establishment, it was easy to discern which direction the bathroom was located thanks to the trail of pap.

  Over the din of chatter, he could hear a male pounding on wood and yelling, “Get your goddamn ass out of there!”

  A journalist stepped between Jase and Rain. Without thought, Jase put his fist into the fucker’s eye. The man went down amid alarmed screams.

  When a cameraman got too close Jase wrenched the camera out of the fucktard’s hands and smashed it to the floor. “Sue me. Clark Hanson’s my lawyer.”

  It seemed like it took forever to breach the hallway to the bathroom. A greasy-haired male pounded on the door, screaming at Jase’s girl inside. Jase assumed he was the one in charge, and Jase’s knuckles itched to give him a shiner.

  “Step aside,” Rain instructed the emotional male. His yelling and pounding ceased. With a wide-eyed gape, he followed Rain’s command and cowered against the opposite wall.

  Spineless fuck.

  Jase met the manager’s gaze. “And they call me a douchebag. My vote goes to you as douchebag of the year.” He gave a gentle knock on the door. “Fallon, it’s Jase. Let me in.”

  Only a moment passed before the disengaging of the lock grated. The door cracked open and he slipped inside, sliding the flimsy latch back into place.

  “I’m sorry to be a bother.” Fallon’s forehead rested on her bent knees, and her voice came out muted.

  He glanced at the other woman. Even with the hair color change, he recognized her. Crouching in front of Fallon, he wanted to touch her but worried she’d reject his comfort. “Darlin’, you’re not a bother.”

  The tight clasp of her fingers around her knees intensified, turning her knuckles white. She angled her head up, and red-rimmed eyes met his warily. “Go ahead and say it.”

  “Say what?”

  “I told you so.” She sniffled, ruining the resilient impression he suspected she attempted to muster.

  He wanted to punch every fucker-pap in attendance, even the females. “That’s not really my style.”

  “I thought you never lied.”

  “You calling me a liar, darlin’?”

  “If the shoe fits….”

  He grinned at her challenge. With a shrug, he said offhandedly, “So it is my style to say I told you so. Don’t beat a guy up for taking the highroad on occasion.” Many times he’d relished tossing those words out, just not this time. “Sometimes lessons are better learned from experience.”

  “Lesson learned.” Fallon stood on wobbly legs, and he rose with her. “I cannot believe I brought my daughter into this psycho atmosphere.”

  He bristled at her singular terminology as it related to Faith. “Our daughter will be taught how to avoid the paparazzi, and she’ll have a bodyguard with her at all times. The upside to that, it’ll keep perverted bastards like me away from her.”

  The other girl laughed.

  He looked at he
r. “Since you’ve been made, you might want to come with us so you can get out of here easily.”

  “I knew this would never last.” Eva Radcliff pulled off the well-made blonde wig and shook her black locks free. The change in hair color had a radical effect on her appearance. She went from cute to stunning in a sultry way.

  Hoping Fallon wouldn’t shun his touch in front of another, Jase placed his arm around her shoulders.

  “You got a fast getaway?” Eva asked in a no nonsense manner.

  “Bodyguard outside the door. He’ll take us back to my place, and then you can do whatever you want.”

  “Thanks for the help.”

  “Least I can do for you taking care of my girl.” He caught Fallon’s sharp glance from the corner of his eye, but she didn’t contradict his claim.

  “Someone needed to save her from the vampires.”

  He laughed at her label of the pap.

  “You just keep taking care of her.”

  “Promise.” When Fallon would’ve slipped from his grasp, he tightened his grip. “My touch sends a message. They won’t come at you so hard again if they know you’re under my protection.”

  “He’s right,” Eva agreed. “They’ll still harass you, but it’ll be subdued.”

  Jase took Fallon’s silence as agreement. The moment they exited the restroom, their manager said, “You’re fired.”

  “She quits, you asshat,” Eva tossed right back, shooting him the bird. Her attitude would fit right in with his sister.

  Rain led the way, and they followed without incident, just the continued shutter of photographs being taken, along with the gasps of awareness as they recognized Eva.

  “Keys.” Jase held his hand out to Fallon when they neared the car.

  She dug them out of her pocket and handed them to him. She glanced at him. “I need my purse out of my locker.”

  Rain snatched the keys from Jase and hit the unlock button on the Land Rover. “I’ll retrieve it, Mr. Collins, just get her safely in the vehicle.”

  Fallon scrambled into the backseat and skated to the other side. Jase wanted to draw her into his embrace and offer her the comfort she obviously needed, but he wasn’t such a bastard he couldn’t tell when someone required their space. She stared out the window at the brick wall as Eva hopped in the front passenger seat. After locking them in the car, Rain strode back inside. Silence filled the compartment, and he sent Eva a curious glance.