Diane Kelly [Tara Holloway 07 Death, Taxes

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.As much as I adored Brazos, as much as I worshipped the very ground upon which he walked in those boots with their jingle-jangling silver spurs, my heart simply wouldn’t let me betray Nick.Brazos might have seemed more real to me tonight than ever before, but the chances of the two of us developing a relationship were laughably low.Besides, what I had with Nick was close to perfect.No way would I risk that, even for my celebrity crush.Chuckling, Brazos pressed his lips softly to my temple.“You’re acting awfully shy for a girl who wears red lace panties.”“I’m an enigma.” An enigma wrapped in a mystery going commando.“Everyone on board!” A thirtyish, dark-haired woman with a clipboard and a headset marched toward the bus, waving an arm to round up the stragglers.“We’re heading out!”With a final grin, Brazos Rivers stepped away from me.“Bye, Tara.”“Bye, Brazos.”chapter sixFinishedI made my way back into the arena, feeling simultaneously proud that I’d managed to resist Brazos’s many charms and stupid that I’d passed up a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to suck face with the superstar.Maybe I could have taken a sample of his saliva to the biology department at SMU to get a clone made.If the scientists in Jurassic Park could bring dinosaurs to life after billions of years of extinction, surely creating a Franken-Brazos from fresh spit should be no problem, right?The hallway where Nick and I had had our standoff with the security guards was empty now.I walked up the corridor and spotted Nick and a uniformed marshal just outside the glass front doors.Nick leaned back against the building, his arms crossed over his chest, a scowl on his face.The marshal stood nearby, smoking a cigarette and looking up at the Dallas skyline.When I stepped outside, Nick cast a disgusted look my way.“Brazos all done with you now?”The marshal’s gaze lowered from the skyline to us, traveling from Nick to me and back again, assessing.I forced a smile and raised a hand in greeting to the marshal, then turned my focus to my boyfriend and partner.“Look, Nick.Neither of us would have gotten any face time with the guy if I hadn’t gone to the tour bus with him.I did what I had to do.For the sake of the investigation.”He snorted.“Remind me to nominate you for special agent of the month.”The marshal stepped up.“Am I still needed here?”“No,” Nick told him.“But thanks for coming out.”“No problem.”As the marshal headed off, Nick turned his whiskey-warm eyes on me.Like Brazos, Nick had a few imperfections.A small scar on his cheek.A slightly chipped tooth.A tendency to be a little overbearing.But none of those things were deal breakers.Hell, I wasn’t perfect, either.I was short, lacked curves, and tended to be a little stubborn.Okay, make that a lot stubborn.But despite our flaws, Nick and I worked well together, both professionally and personally.“Did Brazos agree to pay the taxes?” Nick asked.I nodded.“He’s going to send the information to his agent.”“His agent? Why?”“His agent has all the documentation.He was supposed to hire a CPA to get the taxes done.”“Obviously he dropped the ball.” Nick frowned.“When is the agent supposed to contact you?”Um … “When he’s had a chance to look into things.”“You didn’t set a deadline?”Um … “No, but I’m sure it will be soon.”“Who’s the agent?”Um … I didn’t have a clue who Brazos’s agent was.It hadn’t even crossed my mind to ask.My brain had been a little too preoccupied with the singer’s sculpted, hairless chest and dazzling blue eyes.Shit.Shit, shit, shit!Nick’s upper lip quirked in condemnation.“At least tell me you got a direct phone number for Brazos.”The collections agent had been unable to obtain the number for Brazos’s personal cell phone.None of his staff would give it to her.Neither would his parents.Not without a court order, anyway.I’d been an idiot not to ask Brazos for the number.I gave Nick the most intelligent response I could, which was “Ummm…”Nick’s jaw flexed with barely restrained rage.“Do you know what hotel Brazos is staying at?”I shook my head.“Jesus Christ, Tara.This makes no sense!”Nick was right.It didn’t make sense.If the target had been anyone but Brazos Rivers I never would’ve agreed to the flimsy arrangement.I would’ve issued demands, set firm deadlines, locked things down.“Come on!” Nick barked, grabbing my hand.He pulled me after him, heading in the direction of his truck.I had to jog to keep up with his long strides.“What are we doing?”“We’re going to follow Rivers’s bus to his hotel,” Nick said.“And I am going to deal with the guy this time.”Humiliation heated my cheeks.The spot where Brazos had kissed me no longer felt sacred and special.Instead, it felt like a mark of shame.I should have to wear a scarlet letter S for Stupid.I’d screwed up.Royally.No ifs, ands, or buts about it.As we approached Nick’s pickup, he bleeped the door locks.He jumped into the driver’s seat, while I climbed in the passenger side.Normally, he’d open my door for me but this was no time for niceties.I’d barely clicked my seat belt into place when Nick hit the gas and roared around to the back of the arena.The tour bus was pulling out a gated exit.Nick floored his gas pedal, hurtling across the expansive parking lot, racing time as the gate began to slide closed behind the bus.But we got there an instant too late.The gate clanged into place, blocking the exit.Nick slammed a palm against his steering wheel.“Dammit!”Short of ramming the gate with his bumper, we were out of options here.Nick shook his head and muttered, “Guess we’ll find out which hotel he stayed at when the police report is filed tomorrow.”Nick’s jibe was a reference to the rumors that Brazos had trashed several hotel rooms along his tour route.He’d allegedly pulled a chandelier from the ceiling of a suite in St.Louis when he’d drunkenly tried to swing from it.In Little Rock he’d purportedly thrown a serving platter at the wall, shattering a piece of expensive framed art, when room service had mistakenly brought him bacon strips rather than Canadian bacon as ordered.In Houston, he’d supposedly poured a bottle of bubble bath into the outdoor hot tub just for kicks.The tub had to be drained, cleaned, and refilled with fresh water.Whether this childish behavior was fact or fiction was anyone’s guess, but I chose not to believe any of it.After all, my mother had always said not to believe anything I heard and only half of what I saw.My mother was a pretty smart lady.Not smart enough to catch me climbing out my bedroom window at two A.M.back in high school to attend an impromptu keg party in a pasture, but still.I waved a hand dismissively.“You know how people like to gossip about celebrities.All that talk about Brazos trashing hotel rooms is probably made up.” At least I hoped it was.I’d hate to think he was really that immature.I also chose not to believe the rumors about his sex life, that he had multiple girlfriends along his tour route and, when none of them were available, he supplemented their services with expensive call girls [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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