Free Love in Tune by Caitie Quinn Page B

bun a once over. “And, styles.”
    I nodded. All true. “Okay, look.”  
    I pulled my iPad out of my bag and went through the three layers of security to get to the details. “Backstage plans. Travel schedule. Hotel code names. I’m his handler.”
    “No. That guy’s his handler.” He pointed across the room at Kyle sitting on the counter next to a dessert display that almost distracted me from the disaster this night was becoming.
    Because, sugar cures all woes.
    Except ones created by the modern plague.
    “Kyle.” Kyle was my Newman. As soon as I saw him, the doorman had no chance of grabbing me when I faked to the left then dodged to the right.
    Every experience with Kyle left me feeling off balance, but this was one I couldn’t lose. Well, not and keep my job. He’d use that to his advantage tonight just like he always did. As I wove through the crowd, I watched him sitting there smiling down at a girl who was batting her fake eyelashes at him. I guess it took all types.
    He grinned at her, then his eyes swept the room, starting at the front and doing a spot by spot check just like I’d seen our security guys do. Way too practiced to be an accident. When his gaze caught on me, he stopped. No surprise, just resignation as I froze in his stare.  
    With a shake of his head, he waved off the door guy. With one of his should-be-patented grins, said something that sent the girl on her way as I reached him. With a hop, he slid off the counter, checking his watch as he did.  
    When I reached him, he stepped into me and leaned down to speak directly into my ear.
    “Melissa, I expected you here ten minutes ago. You’re losing your touch.”
    I was going to kill him. But first I had to figure out the damage. I shifted so I could see the stage and scope the room. He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me into him so he could speak privately.  
    “Everything is fine.” His voice managed to sound laid back even as I watched a singer worth multi-millions surrounded by fans and the least trustworthy guy I knew. “Stay chill.”
    I turned my head to tell him exactly what I thought of being chill at the moment. That’s when I noticed the earpiece he wore and shifted to the other ear, nearly brushing noses with him as I did.
    “Do you have security here?”
    “Nope. Just me and the guy at the door.”  
    My gaze narrowed as I took in the fifty-plus people hovering around the stage. Off to the left was an oversized guy leaning against the wall with a cap pulled low. On the other side was a woman who looked like she could take out a small platoon. She was dressed to party, but there was something definitely not at-ease about her. I found two more in the crowd, one behind the counter, the guy at the door, and a couple sitting by the bathroom in the back.
    Even I couldn’t argue with that. It was probably overkill for the size of the venue. Eight. Well, nine if I was going to count Kyle.
    I was not counting Kyle.
    I gave him a look.
    He gave me a look back.
    My knees started doing that darn wobbly thing.
    He winked.  
    And then, I was back to wanting to kill him.
    “Why don’t you enjoy the show?” He put his hands on my waist, lifted me onto the counter, and leaned in. “You know, relax a bit and try to see what makes everyone so gaga over this guy.”  
    I glared at him. This was so not what I needed.
    “You’ve got, what, two-and-a-half hours to get him back to the bus, right?”
    Darn him for being right. I felt my head jerk down in a nod.
    “He’s doing this as a favor for a friend. Just relax. It’s under control. Let go of all that stress.”
    “Yeah, with you and the door guy running the show?” I pushed, seeing if he’d admit the security plan and put me at least a little at ease.
    He shook his head. “Melissa, Melissa, Melissa. Don’t disappoint me like that.”
    So he saw me make his guys. All right. Fine.  
    “You wouldn’t know what stress was if it was killing you.”
    He mumbled