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There are two things that could effectively ruin my good name in the PR world. One, if this tour turns into a complete bust. The other? Word getting out that I messed around with my client. I would never be taken seriously again.
I already feel like I have everything to prove. I'm young, inexperienced, and have a shaky resume. If people thought I was hooking up with someone from the band, it wouldn't be a huge leap to come to the conclusion that was the only reason I landed the job.
Not to mention it would give Valerie the validation to all the horrible things she’s always suspected of me.
Forget that.
I've worked too hard for this, and I won't let some little schoolyard crush on a rock star mess things up for me. Even if he is the most delicious man I've ever laid eyes on.
Chapter Twenty-One
Ryan
I just came way too fucking close to making a massive fucking mistake. Wayne may be on the payroll, but I don’t doubt for one second that if he saw anything more than friendliness, he’d call Olivia the moment this bus came to a halt.
The amount of shit I would have to listen to if anyone saw me kissing the new publicist would be out of this world.
No fucking thank you.
I have every intention of claiming every single inch of my sweet Juliet, but it won’t be on a tour bus surrounded by prying eyes that will rat me out to both of our bosses.
My mind is back on the bruises that mark her perfect skin and the face of the disgusting bastard who gave them to her. His face that I should have fucked up even more than I did, and if given the opportunity, I would waste no time in doing exactly that.
She’s still sitting there at the table, right where I left her. Her hair is falling in her face, and I fight the urge to brush it away again.
A loud snore erupts from Ant, and I can’t help but laugh when Neil nails him in the head with a pillow from the top bunk.
“What the hell, man!” he yells out, the hit jarring him immediately from his deep sleep.
“You sound like a fucking garbage disposal, Ant,” Neil responds, voice slow and raspy.
“More like a chainsaw with a dull blade,” Gareth adds, sounding equally as exhausted. “Next tour, I’m petitioning for separate buses. This shit is for the birds, bro.”
Now that the gang's all present and accounted for, I know there can be no more contact with her.
It will raise too many red flags, and I don’t feel like fielding questions left and right. Especially with Gareth’s newfound interest in our dear little publicist.
That, I was going to nip in the bud.
I might not be able to let on to anyone that she has consumed my every thought, but I can sure as hell make sure Gareth stays the hell away from her.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Juliet
I keep my distance from the guys for the rest of the trip to Washington. Instead of hanging out with the band, I stay in the bedroom glued to my laptop. I’ve spent the past few hours on the phone with Olivia pitching my idea for the special edition album.
She loved it.
"You see? This is exactly why I wanted you. My gut is always right," she says before we hang up.
I confirmed everything was in place for the concert and even leaked to the tabloids that Chaotix would be staying at a different hotel across town than they actually were. I hoped that would prevent mass pandemonium when we arrived, and it worked.
Ant called me an evil genius and Neil gave me a fist bump.
"Badass, J. We're normally swarmed, and that blows after spending a few days on that bus," Gareth commended as we walked into the hotel.
It was obvious Ryan could tell I was being distant, though I'm sure he just thought our little moment had freaked me out. He would try and find reasons to talk to me, but I would keep my answers short.
