Free No Regrets by Sean Michael Page A

would, like he always did--it would be good for his career, yadda yadda.
    "I'll tell him you're indisposed." He could hear the disapproval in Molly's voice. She didn't like lying for him.
    "You could just tell him I don't want to talk to him."
    She snorted and disconnected the intercom. He shook his head and stretched, T-shirt riding up out of his jeans. God, he was tired.
    He was supposed to be writing a new album so he could go into the studio in December, and it was starting to look like he was going to be using outside material again. Especially if he was showing up at this show and that festival and... Wait.
    Why exactly was he going to give in and do these appearances and the tour? Because he needed the money?
    He didn't need the money. He was richer than God.
    What he needed to do was take a vacation. An honest to God vacation. A month on the beach or a few weeks in the mountains or...some time with an old friend who nobody knew about.
    He went back to the couch and found the letter from Scotty where it had fallen on the ground. Bless Scott Dean's heart, there was an address there, along with directions to some little town he'd never heard of in South Carolina to Scott's place in the middle of fucking nowhere.
    Perfect.
    He searched out the envelope and pocketed it, just making sure he had all the evidence of where he'd be with him, and headed out the door.
    "Molly? Call Bob back and tell him I'm going on vacation."
    Her dark hair was piled on top of her head, her fingers full of more rings than any one woman needed, her blouse a god-awful lime green with loads of frills. His assistant had a style all her own, but it worked for her.
    "A real vacation, Drake? Or another one of those take my picture circuses of yours."
    He resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at her. It wasn't his fault that he had a whole cadre of paparazzi on his tail wherever he went. The times he got drunk on vacation and pulled stupid stunts they took pictures. On the other hand...
    He shook his head. "An honest to fuck break. I'm not even telling you where I'm going."
    That set her to spluttering, and she hung up the phone and put down her pen, entire focus turning on him. "You have to tell me."
    "No, I don't."
    "Sure you do."
    "Nope."
    He leaned against the side of her desk, crossed his arms and grinned down at her. "I don't have to and I'm not."
    "But I'm your assistant! What if something comes up that needs your attention?"
    "Then you won't have to lie when you tell whoever that you have no idea where I am."
    Her lips pursed and her fingers tapped on her desk. "What if it's an emergency?"
    "Deal with it."
    She shook her head. "You can't just disappear."
    "I'm sure as hell going to try." He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "Book a dinner for two under my name at La Farge tonight, and take that nice young man of yours out for a high-class meal." The booking would draw the paparazzi to the restaurant and hopefully give him a chance of slipping away unnoticed.
    "Well, how long are you going for?"
    He shrugged, checking his pocket for his keys and coming up with his cell phone. He passed it over to her. "I don't know."
    "But..."
    "No buts, honey. I'm going and I don't know when I'll be back--you'll see me when you see me."
    "How will I know you're all right?"
    He snorted. "I'm sure if anything happens to me the damned vultures will find out and tell the world. I'm serious about this, Molly. I need out for a while before I wind up babbling like a loon. I know you can keep things running along nicely here without me."
    "Well, I will certainly do my best."
    "I know." He came up with his keys. "Thank you, Molly."
    "Take care of yourself, Drake."
    "You too, honey."
    He headed out the door, leaving Drake the Rock Star behind him, that letter burning a hole in his pocket.

Chapter 1
     
    Lord, for a man on vacation, Drake felt tired and strung out.
    It hadn't taken him any time at all to pack up a bag and toss it into his truck. He'd even