Page 97 of Rebooting Conor Flynn

My nose stung with tears. That’s all it had become to me, but I didn’t want to admit that to Jay.

“I’ll do what I can. Think about it, Jay. Everyone’s ready.”

“Don’t know if I’m there yet, but it’s good to hear your voice. Take care of our Irish lad.”

“I am. Good to hear from you, JJ.”

I was the only one who got away with calling him JJ, but he’d revoke that privilege in a second if he knew I wasn’t actually taking care of the Irish lad.

But I planned to.

Ji-yoon tripped up the stage, her face flushed. “I thought I was going to be late. I overslept.”

Patting her arm, I said, “You’re fine. Take a deep breath. How did the interviews go today?”

“They were...” Ji-yoon pressed her lips together, and a muscle ticked in her jaw. Then she closed her eyes and straightened her shoulders. “They were fine. Just great.”

She strode onto the stage, her head held high, to talk to the musicians, and I stared after her. Conor needed to have a talk with her—once I cleared up his issues.

If Ji-yoon was here, Ashley must be here too. This venue didn’t have to rely on trailers behind the stage. It had enough space to accommodate actual dressing rooms in the back.

I just needed to find Ashley’s. This had to be a private conversation.

Stepping over cables, I picked my way to the rear of the stage and zeroed in on the four largest dressing rooms. Ashley had to be holed up in one of those.

I knocked on the first door. “Ashley, it’s Noelle.”

No answer.

Tried the second door, yelling the same thing. I heard rustling behind the door and pressed my ear against it. “Ashley?”

The third door swung open, and I jumped back.

“For fuck’s sake, Noelle, why are you out here yelling?” Ashley stood in the doorway, a hand on her hip.

“We need to talk. Now.”

A smile curled Ashley’s lip as she widened the door. “C’mon in.”

I smoothed my sticky palms against my linen pants and followed her into the lion’s den.

Her gaze flicked over me when I closed the door behind us. “Cute fit.”

“Yeah, thanks.” I folded my hands in front of me, trying not to fiddle with my fingers. “Look, Ashley. You can’t keep trashing Conor. We both know he’s not cheating.”

“We know it...” she waved her finger between the two of us “...but the fans don’t.”

I inhaled through my nose and parted my lips to ease out the breath. Maybe I could appeal to her sympathy. She’d certainly felt the slings and arrows of a fickle fandom. “Conor is a good guy. He doesn’t deserve to get booed.”

“Exactly.” She snapped her fingers in my face, and I blinked. “Conor is an angel, and he’s a former member of the most popular boyband in the world—he’ll recover. We both know the world treats unfaithful men with a lot more kindness than it does unfaithful women.”

“I get that, but you’re throwing me under the bus, too. 92 West is not happy with my involvement in this situation.”

She jerked her shoulders up and down. “Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you fell under Conor’s spell...again.”

I flexed my fingers. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to use the photos to convince her, but she was backing me into a corner.

She clapped her hands. “Snap out of it, Noelle. You’ll end up on top of this, too. You got your man back, didn’t you?”