burn out in that environment. I don’t see how Dee does it. There’s almost nowhere in the world she can go without people hounding her. I was exhausted by the end of my time with her.”
Kendra grabbed a carafe and poured herself a glass of wine. “She seems grounded, though.”
“Yes. Amazingly so. Especially since this has been her life since she was fifteen years old.” Jessie shook her head. “She’s had to deal with scumbag record company executives, crazed fans, a string of deadbeat boyfriends, and two parents who seem to care only about themselves. Dee is always surrounded by people, but she’s probably the loneliest person I know.”
“Is that why she haunts your office so much?”
Jessie nodded. “And it’s another big reason why I quit her. I thought she needed me as a friend more than as an employee.” She made a face. “Even though hardly a week goes by that she doesn’t try to get me to come back to her organization.”
Kendra chuckled. “Is that story really true about how she once showed up at your office with a million dollars in cash?”
Jessie smiled. “Yep. She carried it over in a knapsack and dumped it all over my desk. A million dollars in stacks of hundreds and fifties, all in exchange for heading up security for her ten-month world tour. She thought seeing it all in cash would tempt me.”
“Did it?”
Jessie laughed. “A little, especially since I was still trying to get my private investigator business off the ground. It was really good salesmanship on her part.”
“I’d say so. Hard to resist.”
“Yeah, until I remembered that it might be good for Dee to have one person in her life who doesn’t want anything from her.”
Kendra raised her plastic cup and tapped it against Jessie’s. “You’re a good friend.”
Jessie tapped Kendra’s cup back. “To good friends.”
The house lights went down, and the stage lights rose on a breathtaking set that Kendra could only describe as part steampunk, part early-twentieth-century industrial. A dozen backup dancers marched onstage, followed by the star attraction herself. The crowd roared.
For the next two hours, Delilah Winter held the eighteen thousand audience members in her thrall, putting on a spectacular show that was at turns exuberant, heartbreaking, and ultimately triumphant. The songs were catchy, but not simplistic; steeped in heartbreak, but also radiating an optimism for life and love.
At one point, Dee walked on top of the low wall separating the Pool Circle from the Garden Boxes, pausing to sing to the children in wheelchairs in the handicapped section. What could have been corny and manipulative was, to Kendra, the emotional highlight of the show, carried by the star’s sheer charisma and obvious sincerity.
At the show’s end, Dee and the backup dancers disappeared backstage while the crowd shouted for the inevitable encore.
After a full minute, there was still no sign of the performers. The audience’s cheers grew even more frantic.
Jessie leaned close to Kendra. “Costume change. Wait’ll you see this one.”
Kendra waited another full minute. Still no sign of Dee and the dancers.
Jessie wrinkled her brow. She stood up in the box and turned toward the thousands of screaming fans, clamoring for another song. She turned back toward Kendra. “I don’t like it.”
“Neither do I.” Kendra nodded toward a black-garbed security man standing over the stage right staircase. He tapped his finger over a hidden earpiece as his facial expression registered panic. He suddenly bolted into the concert shell and ran into the wings.
All over the Garden Box area, security agents mimicked the gesture and ran for the stage.
“Jessie…”
“I see it.” Jessie cursed under her breath and jumped out of the box. “I’ve got to see Colin Parks, her head of security. Follow me!”
Easier said than done, Kendra thought as she and Jessie ran through the exclusive Pool Circle section and used an empty chair as their launch pad onto the stage. Kendra had never tried to keep pace with her friend, but it didn’t surprise her that Jessie’s athleticism put her almost immediately several paces ahead. With the crowd’s roar still pounding in her ears, Kendra followed Jessie through the stage right wings and down the corridor.
They flew past a row of mirrored dressing rooms and turned left into another short corridor occupied by the stars’ deluxe dressing area. The hallway was lined with flowers and large unused stage speakers, competing for space with a crush of security agents, backup dancers, and members of the stage crew.
“Where’s Dee?” Jessie shouted.
A tall black-clad man, obviously