“Name it.”
He looked at the clock. One in the afternoon—Daphne’s tour would already be on its way to the next city. “Can you tell me where Daphne Petty’s next tour stop is?”
A pause. “I can, but there is this neat little thing called ‘the Internet.’”
“Just pretend I’m a helpless man with tons of money and an inability to do things for myself.”
“Pretending real hard right now,” Jerome teased, but Cade could hear him typing on the other side of the line. “Looks like her next stop is tomorrow night in Des Moines.”
“Okay. Get me tickets. And backstage passes.”
“I’m probably being presumptuous, but can’t Daphne get those for you?” Jerome had worked for Cade for a long time and knew about his mixed-up relationship with the pop star.
“It’s . . . complicated.”
“Try me.”
So he told Jerome about his night, and how it was part wonderful and part awful. And how he wanted to contact Kylie now without getting Daphne involved.
Jerome was silent when Cade finished.
“So . . . tickets?” Cade asked to break the silence.
“You want to know what I think, boss?”
“Probably not, but hit me with it anyhow.”
“I think you need to stay far away from anything even remotely related to Daphne Petty.”
He wasn’t the only one thinking that. The more Cade was around her, the more he felt mired in quicksand.
“I also think you need to let Reese’s wife know about her sister.”
Cade rubbed his forehead, his headache pounding. He headed toward the minibar for some hair of the dog. “Noted.”
“And I think you should get tested to make sure you’re clean of any diseases.”
He closed his eyes. God, what a nightmare this was turning out to be. The one bright spot in everything was Kylie. Sweet, laughing Kylie with her gorgeous body and her lovely smile. An image of her with her head thrown back as she came flashed through his mind. “I’m pretty sure she’s clean.”
“You were pretty sure Daphne was stable eight months ago, too.”
Ouch. “Point taken. All right, then. What do I need to do?”
“You sit tight. I’ll get you tickets and passes for the upcoming show. And I’ll contact your personal doctor and see if he can fly out to Chicago.”
“You want to call Reese and Audrey for me?”
“Hell, no,” Jerome said. “I’ll do the easy stuff. You get the hard work.”
Cade smiled grimly as he hung up the phone, uncapped a tiny bottle of tequila, and swigged it. Hair of the dog—tasted as awful as it smelled. Still, maybe it would help settle him. Telling a six-month pregnant Audrey that her sister was back off the wagon again? Yeah, that wasn’t going to go over well.
Then again, he was starting to have a feeling that the rest of this week was going to be a mess. Putting down the tequila, he moved to the bed and looked at Kylie’s note again. So simple, so brief. It was so completely noncommittal that it was driving him insane.
At least he knew where he’d find her. Wherever Daphne was, Kylie would be there trying to make her look good. He supposed that made things easier, in a way.
It also made things a lot, lot harder in so many other ways.
—
After a nap in her hotel room, a shower, and breakfast, Kylie was feeling rather pleased with herself as she climbed onto the tour bus. She was alone in her bus seat, doing a sudoku puzzle and sipping her coffee while everyone around her chatted and laughed—or nursed hangovers. Daphne had gotten a decent write-up in the local newspaper, the show had sold out, and everyone was riding high.
Especially Kylie.
She’d just had a one-night stand with a gorgeous man. She’d done something completely out of character, and she was feeling pretty darn good about it, actually. Instead of worrying that he was just hooking up with her as a rebound, she’d controlled the situation. She’d gotten her rocks off (so to speak), had come so hard her brain felt like mush, and then she’d left before the situation had a chance to get awkward.
No phone numbers exchanged. No excuses, nothing. Just one night of fun and then done. She couldn’t even regret things—what was there to regret? That she’d had meaningless sex with a sexy man?
Maybe she should have felt bad that he’d shown up for Daphne, but Daphne had made it quite clear that she wasn’t interested in Cade. That made him fair game. Even Cade had said there was nothing between them.
So she did her puzzle and enjoyed the pleasant soreness between her thighs, and her daydreams were full of blue-eyed men with blond curls and sad smiles.
Blue-eyed men with big packages that they knew how to use really, really well. She couldn’t forget that part.
She was lost in pleasurable daydreams somewhere outside of Cedar Rapids when a familiar figure flopped down in the empty seat next to her.
“Hey, Fat Marilyn,” Daphne said, plucking at the hem of her designer T-shirt. She licked her lips and then rubbed her hollow eyes. “You got any sleeping pills?”
Kylie sat up and frowned, putting down the sudoku. “Why would you think I have sleeping pills?”
“Because I can’t sleep and I’ve tried everyone else?” Her eyes were red and she was twitchy, a sure sign that she was on something. Daphne leaned her head back against the bus seat and to Kylie’s horror, her lower lip trembled. “I think someone gave me some bad shit last night.”
“That sucks,” Kylie said sympathetically. “I have some Advil and Midol, but nothing else.”