Page 51 of Sasha’s Secret

And then Sasha was silent for a long, long time.

Rocco couldn’t hear what was being said on the other side of the call, but he did see Sasha try to speak several times. Eventually, Linzi must have paused for breath long enough for her to break in.

“Linzi, it’s all right. Text me the details and I will see to it. Give me a couple hours and I will let you know. ’kay? It’ll be fine. I promise. Linzi, I promise. Let me get started and I’ll let you know as soon as I have something.”

When the call ended, Rocco glanced from the phone to Sasha, and with what he hoped was an innocent expression, said, “You were saying? About my job?”

From the glare she leveled at him, he had a feeling she’d have kneed him in the nuts if they hadn’t still been sitting in the cart.

“I have an idea,” she said. “I need a couple of hours to resolve this issue for Linzi—”

“Which is? Anything I can do to help?”

Sasha sighed. “How’s your knowledge of fashion? Yeah, that’s what I thought. I need to make some calls and plead with the couturiers to see if they can make some house calls between now and next weekend.”

“That’s going to take a couple of hours?” It sounded fairly simple to Rocco, but on the other hand, what did he know about the fashion industry?

“We’re talking fragile egos in competition with one another—it’s not so much the calls as the scheduling. First of all, they have to agree to drop in with suitable gowns and models, and then I have to arrange the visits so the ones who hate each other don’t get to see each other.”

Now it made sense. Rocco didn’t envy her. He’d dealt with some very delicate egos during his career, and they were invariably a nightmare. “How are your diplomatic skills?”

“A little rusty. It’s been a while. Seriously, though, it’s not an issue—I need time to work out the logistics is all.”

“If it has to be done by next weekend, is this all about what she’s wearing for the awards?”

Sasha nodded. “She decided what she was wearing more than a month ago, but she’s binge-watching awards shows and MTV, and it’s given her some ideas. I need to contact the right stores.”

Now that he had a better grasp of the issues, Rocco understood the scale of the task. It reminded him only too well of his own experience. “I see what you mean. Look, I’ll grab my laptop from the office and take it to my quarters, so I can leave you in peace to do what you need to do. When you’re done, let me know and I’ll take you to lunch.”

“That sounds wonderful—lunch, I mean, and thanks for understanding. All the talking would probably annoy you anyhow. The sooner we start, the sooner we can eat—let’s go.”

They returned to the house, and after he collected his laptop, Rocco reluctantly headed back to his quarters, where he made himself comfortable at the kitchen counter.

Instead of doing what he’d originally intended to do, Rocco made a start on planning for the event. Sasha had already emailed him a bunch of logistics information, including the running order. A quick glance down the list confirmed that Linzi was closing the show, so once she came off stage, it should be a relatively easy matter to spirit her away via the service entrance.

For the next hour or so, Rocco immersed himself in his work. The venue left a lot to be desired. Identifying potential threats would have been a lot easier if the Diamond ACE Music Awards had been taking place in a conventional theater setting. Nice, orderly rows made unexpected and potentially threatening movements a lot easier to spot and track. Large, circular tables, with ten people seated at each, acting as if they were out to dinner with friends, did not. At best, they were an obstruction—at worst, they could cost lives.

Rocco’s plan to keep Linzi safe was relatively simple—the more complex a strategy was, the more potential points of failure there were, and he was not going to fail. Linzi would attend the awards, perform at the end of the evening, and they would then get her safely back to Casa Millefiori.

Mission accomplished.

Once he’d laid out the route, supported by two backup options, Rocco turned his attention to the more troublesome matter of personnel. He had one man he could rely on… and Sasha. If Spectrum had had more people available, he could have called on his boss for assistance, but Rocco himself accounted for fifty percent of their total current manpower. A call to Nick would be futile.

Or would it? Nick had mentioned some friends of his who might be able to lend a hand if needed. The way his boss had talked about them gave Rocco the feeling they might be or have been Tier 1 operators. Having a couple of them in attendance might be regarded as overkill, but then again, the latest social media threats were exhibiting further signs of escalation. The ones that threatened to kill Linzi if she didn't kill herself first were some of the least worrying.

Rocco pulled up some of the latest threats. If they were interpreted a certain way, he could see a connection to the awards ceremony. Then again, read them a different way, and they were the wild ravings of a lunatic.

Only a fool would ignore what his instincts were telling him. Those instincts were honed by training and years of experience, and they were telling him to be prepared for the worst.

His cell buzzed, alerting him to the arrival of a text.

Open the door.

The sender’s name brought a smile to his lips. Rocco took a few seconds to stretch and ease the kinks out of his shoulders, and then went to the door in question. Already knowing who he’d find, he opened it and took a step back. “Two things—you were supposed to let me know so I could come for you, and you never need to ask permission to come in here. Just walk in.”

Sasha did exactly that and stood on tiptoe to brush her lips across his cheek. “Thank you. It’s great to see you, too. How’s it going?”

“Making progress, although I’d be happier if I had more people I knew I could count on.”