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My heart raced again, and I waited, standing under bright lights that created disco-light reflections on my dress. Rhylie would be sure to see me.
But I couldn’t see her, my eyes fixed on the restroom door.
Anxiety landed on me, followed by a hand on my shoulder that caused the strap of my dress to fall. I jumped, making the dress fall lower, exposing my body to anyone who might look this way. I quickly adjusted before zapping the hand away. I pirouetted around, the rubber of my sneaker making a horrible noise on the floor.
“Daniel.” My hand flew to my chest. “I’m sorry. You scared me.”
“It’s fine. Honestly. I’ve had much harder slaps over the years.” He smiled. “You ready for the after-party?”
“I will be.”
“Need to pee? You can do that out back. It’s better than queuing for the best part of an hour. Plus, the bus is out back. Your sister is already on there.”
“She is?”
“I ran into her on the way from the bathroom. She’s nice. Very pretty. If only she were a little older.” He laughed. “Anyway, I’ll be sure to stay in line. But seriously, let’s get moving. You guys are a little protective of each other, and she was worried enough about getting on without you.”
I nodded, feeling like she would have objected to going anywhere without me. “I will need to pee first.”
“Follow me. Let’s not keep her waiting.”
***
Backstage looked just like I imagined it. Long corridors. Stagehands, moving on fast feet, props in hand. Daniel and I tucked ourselves against the wall for two staff members carting a wooden backdrop from one room to another, probably ready to set up for the theatre show I’d seen advertised to play here tomorrow.
“This way.” Daniel ushered me forward, his hand on the small of my back, his giant strides ensuring I didn’t waste a second.
“Hey, pretty redhead.” The words had me spinning straight into the path of a busy worker carrying lighting from the stage.
The worker huffed, his patience slim because he clearly wanted to be home, or out, or anywhere but at work now that the show was done.
Daniel pulled me from the man’s path, and Remington, dressed in a clean black tee, sneered, “I’d lose the attitude if you want to keep your job.”
The worker stopped, turning to all of us. “She was in my way.”
“So, that makes it okay to be rude to her? Do you even know who she is?” Remington neared, and his shadow moved over me, the black entity feeling so protective as his hand slunk around my waist.
“No?” The man looked at me, coming up blank. “Who is she?”
“Mine,” the word casually fell from Remington’s tongue. “And I don’t like how you spoke to her. So, if you want to keep your job—”
“He doesn’t work for you.” Daniel eyed Remington, and then he twisted to the man in black, with the heavy light straining his arms, and said, “You’re good. Ignore him.”
“Apologize,” Remington protested.
The stagehand’s eyes flicked to Daniel.
“Apologize.” The word turned sharp, taunting with a cold warning.
“Gee. I’m sorry.” His gaze was on me, and he said, “Sorry that you got in my way and all.”
I didn’t hear his worthless apology. I was too high off the ground, floating somewhere outside my body over the word mine.
“I’m yours.” I hiccupped again, tasting alcohol.
The man walked off, happy to get his shift over with, and Daniel dragged me back down to earth with a sardonic expression on his face.
“Yours?” he snorted, and Remington let me go.
