Say You're Mine - Layla Hagen Page 0,86

up the tours. But I understood that she didn’t want me to insist.

I planned to bring up the subject again later today but didn’t get a chance.

We barely had time to breathe for the rest of the morning. Sasha came in while I was doing my off-day workout and walked us both through the schedule.

A bus was picking us up at eleven. Since Orlando was only three and a half hours by bus from Miami, it didn’t make sense to fly.

But at ten to eleven, Sasha came into my suite, along with the guys.

“We have a problem. The name of the hotel in Orlando was leaked. There are already hordes of fans in front of it.”

“How did this happen?” Lars asked.

She ran a hand through her hair, shrugging. “Lilian leaked it. It’s all over the Facebook and Instagram of her best friend’s account.”

I stared at Sasha. “This is stupid. Lilian signed an NDA.”

“Yes, but her friend leaked it, so good luck proving it was Lilian.”

I didn’t give a fuck about proving anything. I’d deal with Lilian later. We had enough weight in the music industry to make sure she never worked as a promoter again.

“I’m going to find us another hotel,” Sasha said. “Let’s get on the bus, and I’ll get everything sorted out on the way.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Isabelle

In my humble opinion, Sasha deserved a huge raise. Not only did she find a new hotel in Orlando, but she handled the first leg of the tour exceptionally well. The problem in Orlando wasn’t a onetime thing. Several other hotel locations were leaked, but she managed it with grace.

To say touring time was crazy was an understatement. It was so much more than that. Their fans were passionate, which was great for their sales. The label execs had called after the first week of the tour to announce the album had hit platinum!

The downside to their fans’ love was, of course, that we were confined to the hotel wherever we were.

“I think my pampering kits were truly lifesaving,” I joked as we touched down at La Guardia after the first leg of the tour was over. Well, almost over. They had a concert in New York tonight, at the Hammerstein Ballroom on 34th Street. “Imagine being stuck in the hotel room without them. What would we have done?”

Brayden wiggled his eyebrows. “I always have plenty of ideas, you know that. Are you happy we’re back in New York?”

“It’s good to be home. I missed my siblings and, you know...being in my own space. How many days do you think we’ll have to stay at the hotel?” I’d been a bit perplexed when Sasha suggested we stay at a hotel in New York too, because the guys’ apartments and the cottage were going to be stalked by fans before the concert. I’d told Brayden we could always stay at my place, or even Josie’s, but he said the paps were tenacious and he wouldn’t want to put my family in jeopardy.

“I think just tonight and tomorrow. You’re sick of hotels, huh?”

“No, I quite like being pampered twenty-four seven with room service and cleaning teams. But avoiding fans is a bit tiring.”

Brayden was looking at me intently, as if trying to gauge if there was more to my words. Okay, I was downplaying everything a bit. It was exhausting, and sometimes downright scary, but I could put up with it if it meant I was with Brayden. It really wasn’t that big of a deal. Usually I was all for laying everything on the table and discussing it all until there was nothing left unsaid, but Brayden had enough on his mind with the concerts.

We slid into the back seat of the BMW, just the two of us. Paul was driving. Security was in another car behind us, and Lars, Harvey, and Thomas were in a third car. We weren’t expecting any trouble at the hotel in New York, since the press and fans would probably be camped in front of the guys’ apartments, but it didn’t hurt to be prepared.

“How was it?” Paul asked, and Brayden told him a bit about the tour.

We arrived at the hotel almost an hour later. I groaned as I looked out the window.

“Are those fans?” I asked. They had to be. A crowd of about a hundred people was camped in front of the entrance.

“Fuck” was all Brayden said. “Turn around.”

“It’s not possible anymore,” Paul replied. He sounded desperate. The fans had already spotted the car and