for each band member and a backstage section and one for live in concert. I also have a folder full of clips and photos that I can use later. We had to sort out the good from the bad, such as me ass-planting on the stage—I didn’t realize I’d taken a picture on the way down. Haha! And all of the incriminating stuff they don’t want in the book? I’ve hidden that away. There’s a lot of it. There’s actually more of that kind of material than stuff I can use. But that’s okay; no one has to know but me. Susan can gloat that it seems like I haven’t gotten much work done this week. I don’t care. If the finished product is garbage—and I guarantee it won’t be—then she can complain. Until then she can shut the fuck up.
Wow. Not sure where all this anger is coming from. I guess the high from smoking pot wears off quickly. Logan talked me into smoking a little. I don’t think I’ll do it again. It wasn’t as fun as I thought it would be. But food does taste really good. All I wanted to do was eat and lounge around. It was a good way to unwind after finishing the portfolio. And the sex afterwards was as good as always, but Logan fell asleep right after. He’s usually good to a go a few times before he crashes. I think he does need these off days to unwind.
The guys were great about answering Susan’s questions. They passed my laptop around and filled in the blanks as we drove from Salt Lake to Denver. I honestly can’t believe how good they are to me. I thought they’d treat me cordially at best or disdainfully at worst, but they make me feel like I’m a part of their group. Reagan says we’re going to go clothes shopping when we’re in New Orleans next week. I wonder if that’s her way of politely saying my wardrobe sucks.
Well, I’d better head to bed. Not sure if I’ll be able to sleep. I’m still a little worried that Mom will say I haven’t done enough work and let Susan take my place. I’m not sure how I’ll handle that situation. I’m not ready to leave yet. Those feelings have a lot to do with the job, but much more to do with Logan. Eventually this job will end and then what? Do we go our separate ways?
I don’t want to think about it today.
And unlike Scarlett O’Hara, I don’t want to think about it tomorrow either.
Good night. Wish me luck!
Toni
Twenty-Six
Toni answered her phone, glad it was her mother’s name on caller ID and not Susan. She had her presentation ready to go, but she was not ready to face the woman.
“We’re down in the lobby,” Mom said. “Why don’t you come meet us for breakfast?”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
Logan rubbed at the tension knot between her shoulders. “Your editor?”
Toni shook her head. “My mother. She wants me to come down for breakfast.”
“Am I invited?” Logan asked.
Toni smiled. “Do you want to be invited?”
“I’m not sure. Is she going to rip my balls off, toss them on the floor, and stomp on them?”
Toni covered his crotch with a hand. “I’ll protect you from her wrath.”
He laughed and kissed her cheek. “Just let me get my shoes.”
When they reached the hotel lobby a few minutes later, Toni didn’t have to bother searching the expansive area for her party. Birdie’s loud mantra of “Toni, Toni, Toni!” immediately alerted her to her mother and sister’s location.
She took a few steps in that direction, very conscious of the fact that her hand, which Logan was gripping rather tightly, was suddenly damp. She wasn’t sure if it was her nervousness or Logan’s resulting in a sweaty palm, but she didn’t have long to ponder it as Birdie dashed across the lobby and threw her arms around her waist, squeezing her breathless.
“Oh, Toni! I miss you. I miss you so much.”
“I miss you too, Buttercup,” Toni said, releasing Logan’s hand so she could give her sister a proper hug. Birdie tilted her face up to grin that winning smile of hers at Toni. Toni couldn’t help but smile back and give one of her light brown pigtails an affectionate tug. Birdie had a smudge of what was probably chocolate at the corner of her mouth, which Toni took to cleaning with her spit-moistened thumb. Birdie didn’t protest. She