Date With A Rockstar (19 page)

I'm running so fast I trip on the strip of carpet leading into the hotel. I crumble to my knees, shaking, sucking in the air. I made it. I'm safe. I want to cry. That could have been the end of my life.

“Monet? Are you okay?”

For a second, I hope I've passed out and I'm having another Jeremy dream, but as I tilt my head up, I see him standing in front of the limo. “Monet.” He strides closer and extends his hand. I blink hard, drilling my panic back down.

Mel climbs out of the limo. Her blue-outlined eyebrows draw closer together in challenge. I want to fall into Jeremy's arms. I want him to take me back to his room.

“I'm fine, just an attempted robbery.” I hear the words coming out of my mouth and I'm proud of the way my voice doesn't quiver.

He reaches out his hand to touch my face, and then stops inches from making contact. “The person hit you?”

“Damn, does it look really bad?” I've got enough self-image problems to worry about with Fluxem crawling across my back. A black eye would finish me off. Jeremy's arm shakes as he takes in my injuries. He balls his fist and his anger radiates.

“We need medical attention right now!” he yells over his shoulder. No one does anything. I grab his arm. “Jeremy, I'm fine. Nothing a first aid kit won't fix.”

“But your nose is bleeding. You could have a concussion.” I follow his gaze down my front to the rapidly spreading blood stain. “What the hell happened to your leg?” He kneels at my feet and the brown curve of his hair hangs forward as he pulls the denim out of the slice in my leg.

“Yeah, that's how they got me. If I hadn't gone down, I probably could've outrun them.” I shrug. I've almost been mugged many times, but in Boston I know how to escape and keep a low profile better. “Lucky me, no chip to dig out of my arm.” I try to laugh, which comes out more like a sob. Then my façade pops and tears slide down my cheeks.

Jeremy grasps my arms and pulls me tight against his chest. “You're okay.”

“It was just the stupidest thing. I should've stayed on the main road. I tried to fight back, but there were four of them.”

“Four.” He pushes me away enough to stare into my face. There's a tremor in his jaw. He's crazy pissed. “Where did this happen? What street were you on?”

“I spent most of the day looking for the beach and then I was on the street with all the T-shirts and I thought if I just kept going, I'd get back to the hotel, but then I—”

“Shh, it's okay. Now, what street were you attacked on?”

I point back in the direction I came. Jeremy runs his thumb under my eye, wiping away my tears. “I'll go check it out.”

“No!” I place my hand on his heart, trying to hold him in place.

Mel uses the gap between us to latch onto Jeremy's arm. I forgot she was in the limo, too. Jeremy's date. Though from the amount of attention he's paying her, I'd say Jeremy forgot her as well.

“Those guys need to be taken care of. I can't just let them hurt you. Don't worry, I'll take Derek.” His hands stay on my arms even though Mel is not so subtly yanking him away. He twitches his arm like she's a fly.

She thrusts her lower lip out. “Hey, our date's not over.”

“Yeah, it is.”

Another producer's assistant joins us. He checks his watch. “Officially the date has ended…” He checks his clipboard for her name. “…Mel.”

Jeremy focuses on the assistant. “Johnson, we need to report a crime. Notify the police that we'll be waiting in the lobby, and get a staff member with a first aid kit down here now.”

Johnson looks sick at the sight of the blood on my jeans and nods his head rapidly. He's probably aware of how many diseases could be in my blood and hurries back inside to call the police. Jeremy ushers me through the hotel doors and onto a white sofa.

“Maybe we shouldn't sit here,” I whisper as he kneels by my leg.

“Hmm?”

“The white upholstery. I don't want to ruin it.”

“Who the hell cares about the upholstery? I think we're going to need to cut the jeans off.”

“No!” They're my silk weave denim jeans. “I can patch the leg. We don't need to make the tear any bigger.”

He looks at me in question.

“I didn't pack enough clothes,” I say.

Mel clarifies the conversation for me. “She's poor.” I bet she wants to add more. Give him a few opinions about how unworthy I am of his time and attention. I can deal with being poor, but I hate being judged. I just wish Jeremy could see me as an equal without our differences being pointed out by the other contestants.

Jeremy still seems more concerned about my injury than anything we're talking about. “I'll get you more pants…if you want.”

“Thank you, but these are fine.”

He quirks his half smile at my stubbornness and helps me roll the material away from the gash. Thankfully he's no longer focused on rushing down the street to see if those guys are still there. Let the cops do their job.

“They must have had a razor wire line stretched across the entire sidewalk,” I say. I'm still in disbelief that the incident happened at all. Statistically, I know the crime rate is high almost everywhere in the world, and I should've taken more steps to be safe.

“I hope you can give the police a good description,” Jeremy says. He supports the underside of my leg and stares up at me. I love his concerned expression. It's one I've never seen on TV before.

I told the guys who attacked me that I wouldn't say anything, but it's not like I'm going to be sticking around for them to retaliate. “I'll try and remember every detail I can, but it just happened so fast. I was running back, hoping to catch you before you left this evening, and then I was down on the ground with a knee digging into my back.”

Jeremy's jaw stands out as he clenches his teeth, but his hands are still gentle on my leg. “I can't believe they did this to you. I am so sorry.”

Mel bumps up against Jeremy's arm, asking whether he wants to go get a drink. He completely ignores her. I gaze down at Jeremy, who still cradles my calf in his hands. My heart is beating so fast from the contact I'm probably bleeding even more, but I don't care. I'm the one he's so worried about.

“We've got to get ice on your cheek. You're already bruising.”

A woman from behind the check-in station comes over with a thin case of first aid equipment. She takes out a can of Spray All. Jeremy lets go of my leg to give her room to work. She gives me a two-second blast. The sting fades after an instant of intense pain, and then a barrier of new skin spreads over the slice. “Thank you,” I tell her.

“She needs something to keep the swelling down on her face,” Jeremy says. Ah, crap. My face is swelling? I need a mirror. Besides what I look like to him, those viewers have to pick me, too.

“Sorry, I don't have anything with me, but there's an ice machine at the end of the hall.” Jeremy glares. She packs up the case and hurries off. She must not know who he is, or maybe she just isn't a fan, otherwise she'd try harder to make a good impression.

Derek taps him on the shoulder. “I'll get the ice. Unless you want to just carry her upstairs with us.” Jeremy nods like that's a good idea and my heart does a happy flip. He examines my leg one more time and then stands up. “We need to talk to the police first before we can go anywhere.”

“Don't get mobbed while I'm gone.” Derek jogs down the hall.

I look past Jeremy to see Mel standing with her hand on her hip. “Sorry you got hurt,” she says. “At least you already had your date. You'll have enough time to heal up before the finale.” She sits on the couch
to prevent Jeremy from sitting next to me. I hope she's not going to pretend to be my friend.

Johnson runs across the lobby to us. He lets out a deep breath when he sees the cut is healed. “I hate to break this up, but Jeremy, you need to get ready for this evening. You're having dinner at the Ming Kingsty and the attire is formal.”

Jeremy sighs and drives his hands through his hair. The ends curl even more when he pulls his hands back. He is cute even when he's exasperated.

“I'll stay with her until the police arrive to take her statement.”

My nose tingles with emotion and I pray my eyes won't water again. I need a nap. I can't control Jeremy's dating schedule and I have no say about who he spends time with. But I wish I did. I need to shake off this hopeless feeling and get back into the game. “I'll be okay, if you need to go.”

“I've got time.” He settles on my other side so that I'm sandwiched between him and Mel. I can't help grinning. What a slam to her. Not that I moved over to give him room to sit in the middle, but he certainly didn't try.

Derek comes back with ice wrapped in a towel. The whole side of my face feels like it's on fire, but the cold doesn't help. We sit quietly. Jeremy's body presses against the length of mine. I feel shy all of a sudden. I should say something clever, but I just want to curl up against him and go to sleep. I tip my head to his shoulder and his fingers brush my hair. His lips press a kiss onto the top of my head and his voice is very low. “It'll be okay.”

I start to nod off, but he nudges my arm. “No sleeping. You might have a concussion.”

I yawn. “Okay.” I let my eyes go blurry while I relax into Jeremy's warmth.

He brushes my hair back. “The officer is here.”

I straighten up, wishing I could spend the rest of the day snuggled up.

“You okay?” He brushes my hair again.

“I'm good.” Johnson and Eleanor are yelling at each other a few feet away. “Jeremy, do you need to go?”

He sighs. “No.”

He's so lying, which is totally sweet. “I'll be fine.” I shove him up as the police officer approaches.

“Will you be okay by yourself?”

“Of course.”

“I'll check on you later, okay?”

I nod and sit straighter. He hesitates, staring at me, trying to judge if I really am better. The officer has out a tablet and speaks the date and time into the receiver. He asks me a question that I hardly hear as I watch Jeremy walking away.

MY ATTACKERS DIDN'T have any distinguishing characteristics. Four guys of medium build, medium height. No facial hair, no scars. The officer asks me questions like they're from a memorized list. I think the mood stabilizers they've got law enforcement on are making them into robots. His voice borders on monotone.

“Hold out your arm.” He positions a handheld scanner over my wrist. “The one holding you left skin residue, no prints. Fifty percent match rate with that type of data.” He puts the scanner away. “Are you staying at the hotel for a while?”

“As long as the show is in town.”

He nods once. “I'll contact you if we apprehend any suspects for you to identify.” The lack of inflection in his voice makes me doubt they'll find anyone. Which is irritating. The guys had a razor wire on the street. How smart can they be? That's not exactly a low profile crime.

“You're free to go.”

Honestly, I'm surprised the officer even came out to the hotel. The assistant show coordinator must have told him I was bleeding to death. I walk down the familiar hotel hallway, stepping in between the geometric square patterns in the carpet. Hypnotic. Jeremy is on another date with another girl. Life sucks.

Jasmine is lying in wait by the elevator. “I saw you trying to interrupt Mel's date.”

Great. Just what I need, more of her shit. “I was attacked outside of the hotel. I wasn't intentionally interrupting anything.”

“More of your lies.”

Maybe this is a good day to punch her. “I'm not lying. I just finished giving my statement to the police. Notice my face and my leg.” I point down to the bloody rip in my jeans.

She purses her lips together. “I don't like you.”

A laugh bursts out of me. Jasmine is just so…vile. “Yeah, well, feeling's mutual. Have a great day.” I lean around her to push the elevator button and scan my hand. She latches onto me, nails practically piercing my skin. I tense my whole body. “Today is not a good day to mess with me.” I pronounce the words very slowly in my kill voice.

She drops her hand. “Your show's airing tonight.”

“Yeah, so what?”

“I just can't wait to see what secrets you have to hide.”

The elevator door slides open and I leave her in the hall. I signed up for Jeremy, not for all this other shit. And now I have to go to the fake living room to watch the studio try to make me look bad. If Jeremy hadn't held me, this day would be the worst ever.

I sit on the big, fat couch in my green dress and chew my nails. Five more minutes. Five minutes until millions of people are sitting at home, watching me.

Jasmine and her clones take turns glaring at me from one of the other couches. No one wants to sit next to me. Afraid of what will be revealed, like I might be contagious—which, technically, I am. Shelley Anne
finally takes the seat next to me and I'm almost relieved not to be alone, even though I know she hates me, too.