Free CRASH & BURN (Rule Breaker) by Susan Arden Page A

But you’d better get here without a hair on your head missing. Do you understand me?”
    Was he putting her off? Perhaps he’d tell her tonight that this was too much work and nothing to gain except a pain in his ass.
    “Perfectly,” she muttered.
    “I’ve given the driver directions on the rest of your day. He’ll take Christy to the studio and then the band is moving to a house I’ve leased over in East Nashville. Enough bedrooms for everyone, including a pool and security. I think it will work out.”
    “Aren’t you on the West side?”
    “Yes. Near the office. The East Side is cool. I believe more in tune with Orion. Do you have other concerns?”
    So that was it. He was shedding her from his life. Tonight, without the band, he’d tell her the truth. Why else would he make arrangements for the band to live on the other side of town?
    “Not one. Fine. I’ll see you later as you’ve planned.” She didn’t wait to hear his last remarks. With the call over, she walked down the hall, her heart thudding in her chest. Plastering one of her practiced smiles on her face, she entered Andy’s salon space, ready to laugh at her own idea. There on the counter, she spotted a pair of scissors.
    Clarissa lifted off one of the chairs. “What did you work out?”
    Alana handed back Clarissa’s phone. “Oh, you know men like Mr. Lansing. They have little understanding of all this.” Waving her arm around, she edged closer to the counter, and nonchalantly picked up the scissors.
    “Amen, sister.” Andy smiled.
    “I, on the other hand, would like my hair cut. Sort of like this.” Without waiting, Alana curled her fingers around a thick handful of her hair. Gazing in the mirror, she cut off the handful of her hair just below her chin. She met Andy’s shocked expression in the mirror and her smile widened. “Think you can get the other side?”
    “Holy crap,” Clarissa said, her mouth having dropped open as the color drained from her face. “We are so screwed.”
     
    Chapter Six
     
     
    The manager of the Hyatt led Jon toward the large meeting room set up with an open bar; the press had started to arrive. Jon motioned to Pauline and a few of his own staff, and then nodded his head to each person he encountered as he moved through the room, or stopped to converse with those he deemed to be kick-ass entertainment journalists.
    By the time he’d made it around the room, he’d had the chance to lay the foundation of the spin he desired for Alana. Now, all he needed was his client and the press would do the rest. He walked up to the bar and ordered a Triple-Blue bourbon. One cube of ice.
    Pauline joined him with her marketing crew. “We’re all set. Orion’s ETA is on schedule.” She added, “Any minute.”
    Jon picked up his drink. “Just got the message. They all just arrived in the garage.”
    Clarissa had strangely gone mute today, and all he’d gotten from Stella amounted to saying that Alana was holding back and to give them both a few more sessions, starting tomorrow.
    “I’ve texted all the press here tonight the rules of the game and what questions will be entertained. Everyone is on board,” Pauline said, gazing across the room.
    “We hope.” He sipped his drink, wondering where in the hell Alana was, given the garage entrance was only a few doors away.
    Pops erupted and the buzz in the room echoed, growing louder. The guys from Orion had just entered the doorway, and Jon squinted. “Paulie. Are you certain Alana arrived as well?”
    “Clarissa assured me they were all here, Alana included. I’ve got a rundown on her attire just in case anyone wants to know designers to mention. Dolce and Gabbana. See?”
    “Designers?” He fleetingly scanned the text containing a full description of Alana’s outfit. Until he caught sight of her lingerie designer on the list. “Kiki’s from New York. Remove this and anything to do with undergarments.” Was this the same woman who hours ago complained