Page 41 of Her Ruthless Protector

“A half hour ago, which was dawn, I offered you a perfectly good stage which you rejected,” A.J. pointed out, keeping her voice Zen.

“I needed an immense stage so that I could practice my art and ensure that I was properly prepared. That is where I am to eventually perform. The side stage is less than half the size of the main stage. It was tragically unacceptable.”

“So instead you decided to forego rehearsal. That was your call.” A.J. shrugged.

“You need to cut the acrobats from the main stage, they are rehearsing at dusk. I require that venue and that time.”

“No.” A.J. wanted an Oscar or at least a Golden Globe for how serene she sounded.

“Nobody says ‘no’ to me!” Normally, Amber’s tone rang with a pretty Yorkshire accent, but now she sounded like she was screaming at the telly in a pub watching the Liverpool Football Club lose a game. A.J. just barely managed to hide a smile.

“Your voice. Amber, your voice. Here, have some tea, Darling. It has honey and just a drop of Remy Martin cognac,” her manager said. “Laurel, bring it to her.”

All the pandering took A.J. back in time. But in Amber’s case it took a village to calm her down. Somebody needed to knock some reality into her. Hopefully there really was something to her dawn and dusk rehearsals and she wouldn’t win the competition. Normally A.J. would have acquiesced to her request, but Mikhal’s flight was coming in later today, so he was just barely making it in time for the dusk rehearsal as it was. With the type of performance the acrobats did, they had requested daylight and A.J. was damn well going to accommodate them.

“Give me that,” Amber held out her hand imperiously for the tea.

Pinky handed over an actual teacup and saucer and damned if Amber didn’t manage to spill some on her really over-the-top, but gorgeous, dress.

“Laurel, look at what you’ve done,” Amber shrieked.

Pinky shriveled in front of everyone.

“You never do anything right. Why I keep you around is a mystery to me.”

Pinky began to cry. Not Amber-type tears, but real tears of sorrow.

“Every time something bad happens around here it’s because of you,” Amber continued on in that shrill voice.

“Enough!”

Ah shit. She’d really stepped in it this time.

“I beg your pardon?” Amber’s head swiveled to look at A.J.

“What happened today with the stage was not anyone’s fault,” A.J. said through gritted teeth. “You, being a sniveling bully is your fault and it’s unattractive.”

“I’ll have you replaced.” The Liverpool accent was back.

“Nope, that’s not how it works around here,” A.J. laughed. “But you’re right, normally I pander to the talent. That’s my job. I work to make sure your ass is kissed, but I draw the line when I see you verbally assaulting some kid who is now almost catatonic.”

“I’ll treat my employees how I see fit.”

Knowing her, this wasn’t an employee, Pinky was probably an intern or a groupie. A.J. looked at her out of the corner of her eye and saw the poor girl shivering in the corner.

“Pinky, you’re with me.”

“Do not leave this trailer,” Amber warned Laurel.

“You’re in timeout.” A.J. pointed a finger at Amber. She went over to the girl huddled in the corner. “Honey, I need you to come with me.”

God, she’s young.

The girl looked up at her with scared eyes. They haunted A.J., reminding her of herself back in time.

“Come on. I’ll bring you back when it’s safe,” A.J. coaxed the pink-haired pixie.

“You have no right.” Amber’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard.