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“All the Single Ladies, Beyonce.”
“Really?” he asked, surprised.
“Yep. It implies women have to marry to stay faithful to someone,” I explained. “Favorite place—” before I could finish speaking, Jamie quickly scooped me off the couch brides-style and hurried us to the bedroom. Dumping me on the bed, he crawled over me, spread my legs with his knee and settled between them.
“Right here,” he muttered, cradling my head between his hands and pressing his lips to mine. I grinned at how little control he had whenever we were alone together. But my heart fluttered wildly in recognition of that as well.
We made love, slept and ate snacks again, and at 6:15 p.m. we strolled across the hotel foyer in full view of everyone, headed to our transport for the concert venue.
When I saw Lottie, I asked Jamie to arrange her an Uber to the concert.
“I can’t go pampering every waif and stray that turns up to one of our gigs, Daisy. You need to toughen up,” he said, with a gentle plea.
I felt a little awkward at his rejection but considered how often girls like her were a problem, and although I’d initially felt dejected, I knew his comment wasn’t said out of malice. Outside we piled into the people carrier that had been waiting and found Ticker, Hogs, Paddy and Bernie already seated inside.
“Love those boots,” Bernie told me, nodding at a pair of expensive knee length brown boots I’d bought in the January sales. We began a long conversation about calf widths and heights and how hard it was to get a good pair of boots that fitted just right. My ears tuned in and out of Jamie’s conversation, but as it was mainly about band stuff, I kept my conversation with Bernie going.
“Nervous?” she asked when we eventually exhausted our boot conversation.
“Excited, it’ll feel very different watching Jamie now we are together,” I replied. My heart skipped a beat again when I thought how surreal the last year of my life had been.
“No, I meant about the press coverage you’ve been getting.”
“Press coverage?” I shrieked.
“You haven’t seen it?” she asked, shocked, and pulled out her cell phone. She googled Jamie Fontaine’s name until I saw an article about us that was trending.
“Isn’t she lovely?” the headline said.
Who is this gorgeous girl? No wonder Jamie Fontaine has a beaming smile on his face. Most men would smile too, if the mystery girl was on their arm. Read the by-line.
Rumor has it, Jamie Fontaine is head over heels with this mystery woman and he’s officially off the market. The news will undoubtedly break the hearts of many who envisioned themselves having what it takes to tame a rock star like him.
Unfortunately for them, it would DistRoyed’s front man is prepared to shatter their dreams and from the look of love in our favorite rock star’s eyes, Jamie’s completely smitten.
Choosing Paris, the city of romance, to debut the unknown girl on his arm yesterday, we’d venture as far as to say, this mysterious beauty could most definitely be ‘The One’.
Jamie made no secret of the fact he was loved up when he wandered openly, hand in hand with his girl through the foyer of the Shangri-la Hotel near the famous iconic Eiffel Tower.
After a private romantic dinner at Lapérouse last evening, he and his girl wandered back through the hotel hand in hand looking very much in love. Although it’s not all play for Jamie Fontaine as he and his band, DistRoyed are due to play at Zénith Paris- La Villette tonight, it was crystal clear where Jamie’s priorities lay. Although they made no secret of their feelings, Jamie has yet to reveal his new beauty’s name, but at the event this evening you can bet all eyes will watch to see if his gorgeous blond beauty attends.
“Oh, my, God,” I whispered. Suddenly far less confident about the evening ahead and considered what I was wearing. I’ll admit I’d dressed in a sexy rock chick outfit of a short tan colored leather skirt and matching jacket, tight DistRoyed band printed tank, and dark brown leather knee-high boots. Fortunately, my fangirling days had made my choice of outfit effortless with my beaded accessories and bangles as well.
“What’s wrong?” Jamie asked, tuning into our conversation.
“The press is speculating who Daisy is,” Bernie replied.
Jamie slung his arm around me, tugged me into his side. “You got this, baby. Just smile and look pretty, but don’t engage in a conversation with any of them.”
Usually, a comment like that from a man would have had my heckles up, and I’d have torn him a new one, but in this case I knew what my boyfriend told me was sound advice borne from years of experience at the hands of the paparazzi.
I must have looked as nervous as I felt because Bernie leaned over and placed a hand on my knee. “It’ll be grand,” she soothed, “You may face a rough couple of weeks, but some other celebrity will soon fuck up and then you and Jamie will be yesterday’s news.”
I’d never wished ill on someone else to divert attention from me before, but in that moment I must confess I came very close.
Our arrival in the service delivery bays at the rear of the venue was low key and remarkably trouble free. A team of security men from the venue itself escorted all of us to a sublevel in the bowels of the building where the band’s hospitality and dressing rooms were.
Bernie offered to meet up with me when the show was over, before she wandered away to talk to a girl she obviously knew well, who was already in the dressing room when we’d arrived.
