Free Rockstars F#*k Harder by Penny Wylder Page A

to say. To brace myself for losing my job, for losing Drew.

    I ’m being led into the hotel lobby when I hear my name and turn around, confused. I don’t recognize the voice, but maybe it’s a hotel employee.
    I spot a woman with long, dark hair in a grey pantsuit, cellphone held aloft. There’s a flash, and then she’s gone, moving off into a waiting taxi and away. Well, that was odd. Still, she’d had a cell phone , she can’t be paparazzi, so I really have no clue what that was all about. If the media really were onto the fact Drew Avery’s manager is pregnant with his child, the hotel would be a zoo and my life would become a shitshow of epic proportions.
    As I get to my room, exhaustion sets in and I let it, setting my phone alarm for an hour later and letting sleep come.
    It isn’t restful, not in the slightest, my nerves eating me alive. I dream of being devoured by cell phone cameras, flash flash flash as they consume me, and want nothing more to do with sleep as my alarm goes off.
    Only it’s not my alarm. My phone is ringing, and the number isn’t one I recognize. The number is local. Someone from the venue, then.
    “Hello, this is Lucy Westmore,” I answer, and a warm laugh greets me. I don’t recognize the voice, not really, though it tickles faintly at my memory.
    “Perfect,” the woman on the other line breathes. “Exactly who I was hoping to reach. I’m Veronica Ashton-Evans.”
    “It’s—nice to speak with you, Veronica,” I say cautiously. I have no idea who this is or what this is about, but the fact she hasn’t identified her purpose is odd. “Is there something I can help you with?”
    “Oh, no no, I’m calling to help you .” Her laugh is high and false and puts me immediately on edge.
    “Go on,” I manage, not sure how else to respond.
    “You really don’t know who I am, do you?” Her false mirth has faded, leaving only incredulity.
    “I—no?”
    “I figured Drew would have told his little whore about me since I was his first love. Maybe you mean less to him than I thought.” The dismissiveness in her voice sours my stomach. “Well, it hardly matters. I’m just calling to give you a heads up, anyway.”
    “About?” My voice is cautious.
    “You might want to check out the news tomorrow. A story is about to break and you’re the star.”
    My heart drops into my feet. "What do you mean?"
    “Surely you didn’t think you could hide the fact that you’re carrying Drew Avery’s baby forever, did you?” This time, her laugh isn’t false but cruel, and I feel sticky with dread.
    “Why are you doing this?” I ask in a panic. Everything around me is crumbling; I'm not prepared.
    “Because I can?” she says airily. “Anyway,” she continues, “I really have to go, but it’s been lovely. Enjoy the show.”
    She hangs up before I can say more, I'm so stunned. The woman with the cell phone. She’d only said my name before, but the tone is right. It has to be her. She’d introduced herself as Veronica Ashton-Evans, but I know I haven’t heard the name. Clearly, she's someone from Drew’s past.
    And now, she’s trying to hurt him again, trying to hurt us both.
    Shit. Shit. I have to tell Drew before it’s everywhere, have to.
    The text from him two hours later hits hard. There’s some freakish weather out in Seattle and all flights are delayed. He won’t be in until tomorrow morning. I try to calm myself, calm my ragged breathing. Tomorrow morning means he’ll be here in time for the concert, he has to be, which means I’ll get my chance to tell him. It’ll be okay. Breathe, breathe, breathe .
    The next day, I can’t breathe. I’m at the concert hall, pacing in his dressing room. Drew is still not here and he’s set to go on in mere minutes. His texts have indicated further delay, have leaked frustration that he won’t have time to see me before the concert, that there’s no time for sound checks or any checks.
    I’ve made sure Ezra and the boys go