Sweet Possession

CHAPTER 4

After an early morning jog, Connor showered and headed into Malone’s, hoping for some time to go over the file on Lyric Jones before everyone else showed up for this farce of a meeting. He should have known that Pop would already be in.

When Connor let himself into the office, he heard voices from the conference room and frowned. Pop wasn’t the only one in way ahead of time.

He went to the doorway to peer in and saw Phillip Armstrong having coffee with Pop. Pop looked up and motioned Connor in.

“Glad you came in early, son. Phillip has something he wants to discuss with you before Lyric arrives.”

Barely able to control his sigh, Connor pulled out one of the chairs and took a seat across from the two men.

“I really appreciate you rethinking this,” Phillip said. “William tells me you’re well suited for this job, and the truth is, I need someone I can trust.”

Connor shot Pop a glare. Well suited? What qualified him to be a babysitter slash bodyguard? His years in the army didn’t exactly prepare him to hover over a spoiled diva.

Pop glared back and Connor refocused his attention on Phillip.

“The danger to Lyric is more specific,” Phillip admitted.

And Connor hadn’t thought this could get worse. “Care to explain what you mean by that?”

“We’ve received what we believe to be credible threats. I pay a team a hell of a lot of money to discern whether a threat is merely someone mouthing off and wanting attention or whether it’s something we need to pursue.

“Mostly it’s the former and we nip it in the bud. People aren’t terribly smart and the trail back to them is usually easy to follow.”

“You’re getting threats you can’t trace back to an identifiable source.”

Phillip nodded. “Exactly. What concerns me is that whoever is doing them is delivering them in person. It started five shows ago and he’s followed her from city to city.”

Connor raised an eyebrow. “He?”

“We assume it’s a he.”

“An obsessed fan?”

Phillip frowned. “I’m not sure. Typically when you have some fan who’s obsessed or fancies themselves in love with a star, there’s a courting stage and then anger because their feelings aren’t acknowledged or reciprocated. This . . . this is just plain weird and unsettling.”

“Tell me.”

“He always leaves a note. Where varies. Once, it was taped to the bus. Once, it was on her guitar case. Another time it was in her dressing room.”

“No wonder you fired her security,” Connor muttered. “No one should be getting that close to her.”

Phillip nodded. “One of the many reasons. I also couldn’t be certain it wasn’t one of them. I got rid of everyone I had the power to fire. Unfortunately, Pete and Repete, her two pet bodyguards, are hers. She hired them. But I want you to keep an eye on them. I don’t trust them.”

“Lyric didn’t mention any of this when we met last night,” Connor said. “She mentioned that it had gotten harder to keep a distance from the fans and that she’d made a mistake in making herself too available.”

Phillip shifted uncomfortably in his chair and glanced over at Pop. Pop grunted. “You may as well tell him. You should have told us all this from the beginning. Last thing he needs is to go in blind.”

Jesus. What now?

“Lyric doesn’t know,” Phillip said. “I’ve kept a tight lid on it.”

“You want to say that again?” Connor asked.

“She doesn’t know.”

Connor shook his head in disbelief. Pop was right about one thing. People in show business had no common sense.

“What could you possibly hope to gain by keeping this from her? She has to be careful, which means she has to be aware of the potential threat to her. She can’t do that if no one tells her that some creep is stalking her. I don’t understand why you haven’t canceled her show or at least her appearance at the music store. Are you just trying to get her killed?”

Phillip’s lips pressed together. Connor hadn’t come out and said, You’re a dumbass, but his tone certainly implied it. Phillip didn’t look happy, but if the shoe fit . . .

“Lyric is her own worst enemy at times,” Phillip said. “If she knew some weirdo was leaving notes for her, there’s no telling what she’d do. She’s not the type to be cautious and play it safe. And we can’t go around canceling events every time some whack job starts threatening her. If we did that, we’d be out of business.”

“It seems to me, whether there’s a threat or not, she does whatever the hell she wants and damn the consequences.”

“Yeah,” Phillip said wearily. “Something like that.”

“So if she’s doing it either way, it makes no sense not to tell her what’s going on. At least then she might adopt a little self-preservation. Especially if you aren’t going to cancel a public appearance that most definitely puts her at risk.”

Phillip’s eyes narrowed. “Look, you don’t know Lyric—”

Connor held up his hand. “You’re right. I don’t know her. I don’t have a desire to get to know her. But if I’m going to take this job, I’m not coddling her, which means I’m going to be straight with her from the start. She’s going to be briefed on everything. And then she’s going to do what I tell her, when I tell her, or I walk. It’s as simple as that.”

“She’s never going to go for such heavy-handed treatment.”

Connor shrugged. “It seems to me you need me a hell of a lot more than I need you. I’d love nothing more than for her to fire me.”

“You work for me,” Phillip was quick to say. “She doesn’t have a choice.”

“Then I guess she better get used to a heavy hand. She’s too used to having her ass kissed.”

Phillip surprised Connor by laughing. “I suppose to you that’s the way it looks. When someone makes your label as much money as she has, you do whatever’s necessary to keep her happy. That’s business.”

“It’s not my job to make her happy,” Connor said evenly. “It’s my job to keep her safe.”

Phillip smiled broadly. “You know what, son? I think I’m sorry I’m going back to L.A. It might be worth being a fly on the wall for the next two weeks. I’m not sure Lyric’s ever met someone she couldn’t steamroll in two seconds flat.”

“Well, now she has.”

Lyric tapped her finger on the steering wheel of the BMW and glanced over at the GPS guidance system. She was just a block away from the place she was supposed to meet Connor Malone. It was tempting to show up late, just because, but to be honest, she wanted to get the whole thing over with as soon as possible.

She could have showed up in a limo and made an entrance, but Connor would probably be expecting that—he did seem to expect the worst—and while she’d normally enjoy feeding it to him with a silver spoon, she preferred to be perverse and surprise him.

How pathetic did it make her that she’d actually spent an inordinate amount of time analyzing what he would expect and therefore go the opposite direction?

She glanced at her manicured nails as she turned into the parking lot, relieved that she’d gone an entire day without breaking one—a new record.

Her outfit was hot, again, in a totally-not-what-he’d-be-expecting way. She didn’t really care for the slutty pop rocker look except onstage because, well, it worked there. She loved expensive clothes, or, more important, clothes that looked expensive. She liked they way they felt on her. The way they looked.

She’d come a long way from Bum Fuck, Mississippi, and it would be a cold day in hell before she’d ever go back. She wouldn’t even do shows there. Not that there were many places to put on a concert the size of hers.

Hell, she wouldn’t even drive through the godforsaken state. She was sure her road crew thought she was nuts because she made them detour around the state when they’d driven from New Orleans to Atlanta.

She got out of her car and straightened her suede miniskirt. She had on a killer pair of heels. They were total fuck-me shoes and gave her a much-needed three inches in height. She liked looking good. It gave her confidence, especially in situations where she felt at a disadvantage. Not that she’d ever admit such a thing to anyone. Only a moron admitted weakness to her enemies.

She slipped her shades down over her nose like a shield and entered the building.

“Ms. Jones?”

Lyric turned in the direction of the feminine voice to see a blond woman standing in the doorway to the front office.

“I’m Lyric Jones,” she acknowledged.

The woman smiled and walked forward, her hand stuck out. “Faith Montgomery. I’m Connor’s sister. They’re waiting for you in the conference room. I’ll show you back.”

Lyric shook her hand and felt distinctly uncomfortable. Faith struck her as one of those genuine, disgustingly nice people, and Lyric was never sure how to act around them. Nobody was genuine in her world.

Silently she followed Faith down the hallway. Faith walked through the open door and the room went quiet. All eyes fell on Lyric when she came in behind Faith. Lyric surveyed the room with a frown, noticing quite a few faces she didn’t recognize.

“Please have a seat,” Faith said. “Can I get you some coffee?”

Lyric shook her head but managed a smile since Faith was being so . . . nice.

“Lyric, glad you made it,” Phillip said as he stood.

There was surprise in his voice. He’d expected her to be late. A quick glance at Connor told her nothing about what he thought or didn’t think. She wasn’t going to admit that she was disappointed. She’d wanted a reaction of some type. Even if it wasn’t a good one. This seeming indifference he showed toward her irritated her.

The older man who’d been sitting next to Phillip also stood, and he made his way to where Lyric stood.

“I’m Pop Malone, Connor’s father,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Jones.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Malone,” she said smoothly as she extended her hand.

“I want you to meet the rest of my staff,” Pop said as he turned in the direction of the seated men. “You’ve already met my daughter, Faith. That’s her husband, Gray Montgomery. Next to him is Nathan Tucker and sitting by Connor is Micah Hudson.”

“Are they going to be my security team?” she asked sweetly.

“Their women would chew you up and spit you out,” Connor said dryly as he stood.

She raised an eyebrow. “Then why are they all here?”

“To see me suffer.”

Color rose in her cheeks. She couldn’t think of a single comeback for that one. She was used to being a veritable circus act. It shouldn’t surprise her that Connor’s coworkers had come to see the train wreck.

She took a seat at the very end of the table so she’d be as far from the others as possible. To her surprise, Connor moved to the chair next to her.

He was way too close and she fidgeted nervously in her seat. He glanced her way once and lifted a brow. Damn, but the man was sexy in a disdainful, you-annoy-me kind of way. She had to be a masochist. It was the only explanation for her bizarre attraction to him. Rejection wasn’t her thing. Neither was hooking up with someone who looked at her like he would dirt on his shoe.

But the truth was, she’d thought a lot about that kiss. It had kept her up the previous night—that and the fact that she was alone, and she hated being alone.

There was some serious chemistry between her and Connor

Malone, and it was a pity, because they could barely stand the sight of each other. He was probably the only man on earth who’d turn her down flat anyway.

“Would you care to offer your opinion, Ms. Jones?” Connor asked dryly.

She blinked and realized that the entire table was looking at her, obviously waiting for her response. She faked a yawn, adopted a bored look and studied her nails.

“Sorry, I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Connor’s eyes narrowed and she gazed at him with wide eyes, a look she knew to be successful on most men. But then, Connor wasn’t most men. He didn’t look impressed even if the other men at the table looked a little gobsmacked.

“If you’re through wasting our time,” Connor began.

“I’m paying for your time, so it’s mine to do with what I want,” she drawled.

Connor stood and looked down the table at the others. “Would you all excuse us? I believe Ms. Jones and I have things we need to discuss. Privately.”

“The hell—”

The look he gave her stopped the protest before it could be fully launched. For the first time, she felt herself backing down. The man made her nervous, and that pissed her off. Didn’t just piss her off. It made her furious.

When everyone had left, Connor turned and planted his palms on the table in front of her. “Let me get something straight. You didn’t hire me. You can’t fire me. You have nothing I want or need. I don’t give a shit if you like me. I don’t particularly like you. It’s my job to keep you safe, and I’m going to do just that. Which means you’re going to listen to everything I tell you.”

How utterly ridiculous that she flinched when he’d baldly said he didn’t like her. Like that should come as a surprise? Nobody liked her. People tolerated her. They used her. But they didn’t like her. Why should Connor Malone be any different? Why did she want him to be?

“What your idiot of a record label executive hasn’t told you is that they’ve been monitoring threats over your last five shows. Some asshole is leaving you notes in places he shouldn’t have access to.”

Lyric curled her fingers into fists and stared up at Connor. “What are you talking about?”

“Just what I said. They’ve found notes on your bus, in your dressing room, on your guitar case. Whoever’s doing it is getting way too close to you.”

She forced her hands to relax and then wiped her palms down the soft suede of her skirt. “Why didn’t they tell me?”

“They didn’t trust you not to do something stupid.”

She blew out her breath in frustration. “Nice.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Do they have reason to believe any other way?”

“Whether or not they thought they knew how I’d react, I had a right to know.”

Connor nodded. “On that point we agree, which is why I’m telling you now. Maybe now you’ll see that this isn’t some fucking game. This is your life, and it’s my job to make sure you stay alive. Now, are you going to help me or are you going to do everything you can to make my job harder?”

Slowly she shook her head.

“Which is it?”

“I’ll . . .” She swallowed and then turned her gaze up to meet his once more. “I’ll cooperate. I’ll try.”

He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the edge of the table. “You’ll do more than try.”

She held her hands up in surrender. “Whatever. You’re the boss.”

He smiled and it made him look so arrogant she was tempted to haul him down and kiss him senseless again.

“Glad you recognize that fact. We’ll get along just fine as long as you remember that little tidbit.”

Slowly she got to her feet. “Are we finished now?”

He nodded.

She reached into her bag for her keys and walked toward the door, unsure of what the hell had just happened. She was a little shell-shocked and off balance. She needed a little time to process the storm that was Connor Malone.

Connor fell into step behind her but she paid him little attention. She walked into the reception area where the others were all standing around talking. She didn’t miss the way conversation stopped or the way they all stared at her as she went by.

“Bye, Ms. Jones. It was nice meeting you,” Faith called.

Lyric looked up and smiled, because really, not smiling at the really nice blond woman was like kicking a puppy. You just didn’t do it. And the truth was, there was something about Faith that just made a person a little warm on the inside.

Clearly Lyric needed a drink to get over that little burst of poetry. She could get drunk and write a song about sunshine and dedicate it to Faith.

She bit her lip to call back the laughter and offered a wave to everyone as she left the building.

Ah, freedom. Not that she liked being alone, but somehow, right now it was preferable to being cooped up in a room full of people who made her feel vastly inferior. She was the famous superstar, and yet a group of good ole boys and Miss Sunshine made her feel not good enough.

It wasn’t until she reached her car that she realized Connor had followed her out. She frowned as she unlocked her doors. He was taking his job a little too seriously for her liking.

Determined to ignore him, she slid into the driver’s seat just as he opened the passenger door and got in beside her.

She paused after she put the key in the ignition and looked questioningly at him. “What are you doing?”

He looked at her like she was a moron for asking the obvious. “I believe we’ve been over this. You’re in danger. I’ve been hired to keep you safe. Therefore, for the next two weeks, where you go, I go.”

Her mouth gaped open. “Are you serious?”

He gazed coolly at her. “Does it look like I’m joking?”

“But I’m just going back to my hotel.”

“Hope you have a double, because I’m not sleeping on the floor.”