my room to call her.
“Hey,” she answers right away.
“What’s wrong?”
She laughs softly. “Nothing’s wrong. I just didn’t like the sound setup. It’ll be okay.”
“I miss you,” I blurt out.
“Miss you too,” she says softly. “Whatcha been up to? I don’t have any mental pictures of you in that clubhouse.”
Yeah, my day isn’t one any woman wants mental snapshots of. Here’s my boyfriend escorting a porn star around town. Oh, look, a shot of my boyfriend spending his afternoon setting up accounts on adult film sites. Here he is deciding which bare-assed photo will bring in the most subscribers.
Nope.
“Nothing you want in your mental photo album.” Points for honesty, right? But I really need to come clean about what I’m up to when I see her. Not the intricate club-business details but at least the broad strokes.
“Hmm. That sounds ominous.”
“Club business. Nothing exciting.” Not to me, anyway. To Shelby? Yeah, I think she’ll have an opinion or two.
“You really want to pick me up tonight? You don’t have to. I can—”
“What are you talking about? Of course I’ll be there.” Somehow, I need to make it clearer to Shelby that I mean what I say and she can trust me.
“Shoot. I have to go. Sorry, Rooster.”
“Hey, before you go, any more creepy messages?”
“Wh-what do you mean?”
It shouldn’t be that hard of a question to answer. “Like that ‘marry me’ one you got the other night?”
She lets out a high, thin laugh. Not like Shelby at all. I pull the phone away from my ear and stare at it for a second.
“Probably dozens of ’em. I haven’t checked my email yet,” she finally answers.
Hasn’t checked her Instagram either, or she might have noticed the King of Cocky Roosters profile that started following her recently. Still not sure how I’ll explain all the porn stars I’m also following. But those are for business reasons. The way I’m stalking Shelby’s pervy admirers is purely personal. I’ve already zeroed in on at least three grown-ass men who seem to be obsessed with her.
From what I’ve seen, her social media’s full of bullshit that Greg should be keeping better tabs on. Someone needs to go through and delete the shitty comments, report and investigate the creepy ones, and answer her genuine fans.
Not my business.
Not yet anyway.
Shelby
After my set, Greg walks me to my dressing room, Bane close on our tail.
I’m buzzing to get the heck out of here. We have a long drive ahead of us.
Greg drops down on the couch while I pack my stuff.
Paper crinkles and I glance over. “What’s that?”
“Your schedule for tomorrow.”
“My schedule?” Except for this dumb interview that got tacked on, my only plans were to spend time with Rooster. He better not have added anything else. “Email it to me.”
“You need to be at the interview early. Are you sure you’ll be ready? I’m not comfortable having Logan take you.”
I pace the length of the couch, throwing glares at Greg each time I pass. “Well, I really wish you’d consulted me before you set it up.”
“This is a big deal for you, Shelby,” Greg says in his “be reasonable” tone that usually has the opposite reaction from me. “This isn’t a country station. ‘Big Lies’ has more of a mainstream feel and they’ve been getting tons of requests for it.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me about it ahead of time?” I stop pacing and squint at him. “And why don’t you look more excited?”
“They had a last-minute spot to fill,” he hedges.
“And?”
“They’re shock jocks.” He sighs. “Have a bit of a reputation for being obnoxious.”
“Wait, shock jocks are still a thing? I thought all those tools moved to podcasts and satellite radio.”
He frowns at the question. “This duo’s still popular. They got fined into oblivion a few years back but returned with a bigger audience than ever. They do a variety of interviews, from porn stars to pop stars.”
“And you think that’s good for my image?”
“I do. You’re getting airplay on mainstream radio. I know your roots are country but we’ll go anywhere the money’s green, right?”
“If you say so, I’ll do it.”
Another frown. In Greg’s head, this wasn’t up for debate.
“Bane should be the one to escort you. Keep it professional. Your boyfriend’s got a hair trigger for anything he deems offensive against you.”
I snort and then full-on belly laugh. “I’m not sure what it says about you that you think that’s a negative quality in a man, Greg. But I’ll tell you one thing: I’m sure as shit