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That is until the door to the bus swings open and in enters the big boss. Or bosses, as Vik struts in behind Arun. It’s safe to say that I’m a pretty confident guy, both of my parents raising me to be strong and bold, my sister almost getting ready to graduate law school. Us Walkers know how to stand tall.
But I’d be lying if Arun and Vik didn’t intimidate me a little bit. Arun is in his typical rich, navy suit, tailored to fit his every toned muscle, gold cufflinks catching the sunlight streaming in through the front open window. Vik’s also in a suit—a deep red color that compliments the warm undertone of her brown skin. They cut quite the image together and if it wasn’t for the fact that I know Vik is happily married to her wife of many years, I’d be trying to play power couple matchmaker.
They’re sharks in their field, going to bat for their clients and not taking no for an answer. I know what an asset Arun has been for us since we were dumb teenagers who never bothered to read anything we needed to sign on the dotted line for and wouldn’t have been able to navigate what opportunities are yeses and what ones are nos.
From what Boone has said, Vik is very similar to Arun in her approaches to business, although slightly colder and more cutthroat than him as she needs to be in order to be taken more seriously in the very male dominated industry. She scares me a bit…and I kinda love it.
“Oh good, you’re all here,” Arun says dryly. He immediately grabs his phone out of his pocket and I’m honestly surprised it was in there to begin with. If Arun was a Barbie, the one and only accessory he would need would be his phone.
“Since the tour has been receiving such positive reviews and selling out every show thus far, we’ve decided to add some additional dates at the end of the tour. They won’t conflict with the summer festival season dates already on the calendar, so no need to worry about that.”
We nod, still focused on eating our lunch. Doesn’t make any difference to me. The more shows, the better.
“Arun has forwarded all of the new dates to each of your calendars and social media posts are scheduled to go up tomorrow afternoon, announcing the additional shows and ticket sale information,” Vik says. Similar to Arun, she’s busy typing away at her phone, half in one conversation, half in the other here on the bus.
I decide to join the club, along with the rest of us at the table as we pull our phones out to check out the new dates. I scroll through the list, six more in total over an additional two weeks.
Fine by me. The guys all seem to have the same sentiment as one by one they put their phones back down and dive into their food. But I look around Hayden and see Scar locked in on her screen, her face pale and mouth downturned.
“The second to last show…” She trails off, looking up at Vik, who pulls her full attention to Scar, and upon seeing her reaction, gains a warmth to her expression I haven’t seen from her before.
“I know, I’m sorry.” She lays a hand on Scar’s shoulder.
I watch Scar closely, trying to understand what her concern might be.
“What’s wrong? Not a fan of the Carolinas?” Arun attempts to break the tension, but fails when Vik immediately turns to stare him down. If looks could kill, Arun would be on his way to the morgue right now.
Scar rolls her lips in between her teeth, as if choking down what she really wants to say. She grabs the paper napkin off her lap and wipes her mouth, before tossing it on her half-eaten lunch and storms to the back of the bus, slamming the door shut behind her.
We look at each other with wide eyes, while Vik lets out a heavy sigh and grabs Arun’s arm, marching him out the front of the bus.
“Anyone know what that was about?” Nikolai asks, talking around a mouthful of chips.
I exchange glances with the guys, no one seeming to have a clue.
The conversation switches to what we want to start working on first when we get in the studio in a couple days, but my focus isn’t here. It’s on the woman who just took off to the back of the bus at the mention of our show in Charlotte.
What could’ve happened there that makes her so upset about having a show there?
My knee bounces under the table, slightly shaking the drinks resting on the surface. I scarf the rest of my food down in record time, before pushing Hayden out of the booth, grabbing my half-drunk soda, and heading toward the back room while the guys protest to come back so we can figure out our game plan.
I stop short of the door, pressing my ear against it to see if I can hear her at all. I don’t hear any crying, so that’s a good thing, right? Tapping out a light knock, I call out, “It’s Walker, can I come in?”
I hear a heavy set of boots clunk on the floor before the door cracks open enough for me to slip through. Scar paces the small space, her short legs not getting more than a couple strides in before turning around the way she came. When I catch a glimpse of her face, I’m relieved to see her eyes don’t look red or puffy, so I don’t think she’s been crying.
“So, uh, have some enemies residing in North Carolina?” I ask jokingly, trying to lighten the mood and then immediately want to eat my words, because wasn’t that what Arun just attempted to do and was quickly escorted off the bus for? “Sorry,” I add, and shift from foot to foot, feeling like I’m taking up too much space in this small area.
“No apology needed,” she says, but the frown doesn’t budge from her brow. “It’s just that the new date hits close to home…literally.”
Ah. I nod, although I still don’t quite understand her reaction to it all. “You’re from Charlotte?”
“No, South Carolina actually, just under two hours away from there. But a lot of people I used to know have found their way to Charlotte, and it’s closer to my own family that I’d like to be.” She chews on her bottom lip, the skin turning red under the work of her teeth.
“Do you not have much contact with them?”
Scar just shakes her head and it’s as if I can see her mentally shutting down, lights flashing off and going out one by one, so I change the subject.
“Are you having a good time on tour? Excited about the other additional couple of weeks tacked on?”
