Harley (West Coast Rock Star #1) (5 page)

Chapter Seven

When they arrived at the rehearsal studio, a good twenty-minute drive from the restaurant, three men waited by the doors, each one had a stick of cigarette hanging out of their mouths. Cade sucked in a deep breath, telling herself they were ordinary people with jobs…as musicians. Musicians who pocketed millions. There was no reason for her to feel nervous or inadequate. She should have been used to that by now, what with her being around the band’s frontman. Being around one rock star had been difficult, but around four? Cade was ready to throw up. Bile churned in her gut.

She walked around the car and opened the door for Harley. “Let’s go, kiddo.”

Harley had bounced for ten minutes straight after lunch. Once the high from her sugar-filled dessert wore off, she sat like a bag of potatoes beside her father. Cade bent to check on her. “Har, you asleep?”

“No,” the child said weakly. “I’m tired, Cade.”

“Okay, I’ll carry you then.” She stretched out her arms to pick up the child when a hand stopped her.

Jax gripped her arm, and his touch caused goose bumps to appear on her skin. “I have her. It was my fault.” He had his sunglasses on, and thank goodness for that! He sent her that crooked smile that made her stomach flip. If his eyes had been part of that assault, Cade would have tipped over and fainted like one of his crazed fans.

It took a moment for her synapses to fire. Carefully, she retracted her arms, straightened up, and closed the door. She walked around the back of the car to wait for Jax to step out with Harley in his arms. As soon as he did, an eruption of screams filled the air. Several feet away from the studio, a slew of women of all shapes, sizes, age, and hair color waved and stretched out their hands, taking photos and videos with their cameras and cellphones. Some carried signs and blown-up photos of their idol.

Jax tried to wave back, but carrying Harley made it difficult. Instead, the rock star spread his lips into that panty-melting smile. He proceeded to the doors, and to the men waiting while the screams continued. It was such a contrast to how quiet his life was in Vancouver.
Did his fans know he had moved?
Cade wondered. It wouldn’t have surprised her if they stalked him and figured out his whereabouts. Only then did she really understand why she had been hired.

The three guys, Luke, Marco, and JP—according to her research—took turns to pat Jax on the back and pinched Harley’s cheeks. They all followed him through the main entrance then past a couple more doors. It was like Fort Knox, except rather than millions of gold bricks vaulted, the studio protected the voices and sounds of the artists practising inside.

A man in his late forties approached the group with Tina rushing behind. “There she is! Harley, baby!”

Harley turned and twisted her neck to see who had called her name. “Hi, Uncle Bruno.”

Bruno Faigon, the band’s agent, dressed in a white shirt which strained over his round beer belly, and a pair of ill-fitting white jeans, squeezed Harley’s cheeks and gave the girl a kiss on the forehead. Then Bruno did the same to Jax, which Harley found hilarious.

“Ready to party?” Bruno asked the rock star.

“Have I ever stopped being ready?”

Aware that Jax had immediate work to attend to, Cade walked up to him and raised her hands. “I’ll take Harley.”

Jax nodded then transferred his daughter’s weight onto Cade. He patted Harley’s cheek and leaned in, his musky scent filling Cade’s senses. She sucked in a shaky hiss. This man would be the death of her.

“Ready to watch your father rock this joint?”

“Yeah!” Harley replied, fist-pumping the air.

“Great!” Jax turned to face Cade and slipped his bottom lip between his teeth.

Cade was aware that all eyes were on them. On him. She just happened to be closest to him—to Jax, the star of the show. But it didn’t stop her from wanting to cower away from the small crowd and from her too-sexy boss.

“I hope you enjoy the show.” Jax followed his words with a wink, and then sauntered towards the centre of the warehouse-like studio.

Instruments littered the floor, and several wires snaked around them. Cade expected to see egg-carton shaped paddings on the walls, but they were plain and unadorned. There were lights hanging off the bars on the ceiling, no swinging gossamer fabrics, and the floor was lacquered cement. Groupings of leather seats and sofas were arranged to face the performers.

Bruno smiled at Cade. She wasn’t creeped out by him; he didn’t look like the touchy, pervy kind. He had a friendly demeanour. “Would you ladies like to take a seat?” He led Cade and Harley to one of the unoccupied sofas. “I’m Bruno, by the way, Uncle Bruno to Harley,” he introduced himself, offering a hand.

Cade sat Harley beside her, lifting the little girl’s feet over her lap before shaking hands with Bruno. “I’m Cade, Harley’s bodyguard.”

“She’s also my friend,” Harley added. Cade turned to her and mussed her hair.

“Ah, welcome then. Have you seen them perform before?” Bruno asked, obviously proud to represent one of the hottest international groups, and waved a hand toward the band.

This was where Cade would fail. Should she admit that she’d never even heard of them before working for Jax? Or should she lie through her teeth and say that she was a great fan?

Her answer stuck in her throat when Jax caught Bruno’s attention. “Shall we get started?”

Bruno yelled, “Yes!” He clapped his hands.

As they sat and listened to the band tuning their instruments—Luke on drums, Marco on bass, JP in front of the keyboard, and Jax picked up a guitar—Cade surreptitiously glanced at the other people present. It was hard to ignore the curious looks thrown her way. The word “groupies” came to mind. There were four women sitting on the opposite sofa. While the men were dressed simply in t-shirts and jeans, these women tried to outdo each other in skin-tight leathers, barely-there tops, metal accessories, and teetering high heels. Their hair was styled in different shades of purple, pink, and blue.

Harley snuggled closer and Cade kept her eyes away from the women, although she could feel daggers being thrown at her.

The band went through three songs, stopping or pausing and restarting again according to Jax’s directions. Each time a song would begin, Jax would grab the microphone, lean on it so closely it looked like he was about to swallow the darn thing, and sing something sultry and deep. His voice pulled her in and rocked her to the core. His eyes would close, then open and glance her way.

He was looking at Harley, Cade tried to convince herself. He wasn’t singing only to her. There were other people in the room. Groupies, sound people, agent, assistants. They were all paying attention to him, therefore, his focus wasn’t only on her.

They broke after the third song. Cade released a heavy sigh, as though she had been released from Jax’s claws. She looked down at Harley.

“Do you want to head to the bathroom? You haven’t gone yet.” She was using it as an excuse to get away from Jax’s suffocating hold.

“Later. I’m good right now.” Harley straightened and jumped off the couch, shouting, “Uncle Luke!” She hugged the drummer, who picked her up and swung her around. Cade stood at attention. She didn’t want Harley to have too much excitement. It would tire the girl and she’d be suffering the next day because of her condition.

“How’s my girl? You’re so heavy now, Har-de-har-har!” Luke held the girl under her armpits. “You’re what? Ten? Twelve?”

“I’m eight, silly!” Harley made a huge gesture of rolling her eyes.

Luke glanced her way, then back at Harley. “Who’s your pretty friend?”

Cade felt the blush creeping up her neck. Luke was younger than Jax by three years, but he was taller and stockier than the lead singer. He put Harley back down on her own feet, pushed his long blond hair off his face, and stretched a hand out to Cade. “Luke Masterson, drummer.”

“Cade Williams, bodyguard.” She shook his hand firmly, professionally. No sparks there, not that she expected any.

“Bodyguard, huh?” Luke apparently liked the sound of it. Cade didn’t doubt that behind those blue eyes, some kind of sexist remark was waiting to blurt out, but they were interrupted as the rest of the band joined them.

“Who’s this, Har?” Marco, the shortest of the four, but still just as appealing to look at, messed Harley’s hair.

“Cade. Bodyguard,” Luke answered for her, crossing his arms over his pecs, his biceps bulging. The two men scrutinized her up and down, and nodded.

Cade didn’t understand men. Regardless of how she dressed, dowdy in shapeless grey suits, they still managed to make her feel like she was standing there in her underwear. Her hair was pulled back into a neat bun, and she wore zero makeup, not even lip balm.

The third band member joined their huddle, quirking a corner of his lips, and without a word, wrapped Cade into a tight hug. “Glad to finally meet you, Cade. I’m JP.”

Cade’s eyes widened. She spotted Zee in the corner with his emotionless countenance. Her hands were lifted up in the air. This was too much contact for her from an unknown person.

“JP, let go of her.” Jax finally decided to pop in. The harem—er, women followed behind him, all seemingly had a hand attached to the rock star. Jax either didn’t notice or didn’t care that the women were groping him. “Don’t mind him. He’s an idiot,” he told Cade as soon as JP released her. “Everyone, this is Cade, she’s here for Harley.”

They locked gazes. Cade looked away first, afraid that someone would take notice.

“Cade, meet the band, Dumb, Dumber, Dumbest,” he said, pointing at Luke, Marco and JP, respectively. The guys grumbled and complained, and began fake-punching each other. The groupie was not introduced.

Jax sidled up between her and Harley. “Would you ladies like something to drink?”

“I’m good,” Harley answered.

When it was her turn, Cade couldn’t even speak, she simply nodded her head. She felt like such a stupid fan girl. She had listened to their music after reading the dossier Juliette had handed her about Jax and his band. She had even watched a few YouTube videos, why had she all of a sudden become shy and mute? Was it because she’d heard him sing in person, and his lyrics spoke to her?

“Well, if you need anything, Tina will help you out with it. Better go back to practice.” Jax bent down to kiss Harley on the cheek, then twisted around to her. Cade stepped back, afraid he would lean in for a kiss too, but he just smiled. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself.” Then he left her there, opening and closing her mouth like a guppy.

***

“I think I should go to the bathroom now,” Harley said in a soft voice. The band had taken another break, but instead of dispersing, they talked with each other over the arrangements.

“C’mon.” Cade helped her off the couch. Harley giggled as the sofa tried to keep her glued to its surface.

Cade asked Tina where to go and they were directed to the other side of the studio. As they passed the band, she couldn’t quite help herself from looking at Jax. He was staring back. It was too late to try and be demure, so she mouthed that she was taking Harley to the bathroom. He gave her a curt nod. As they kept going, she could still feel his gaze on her. She almost wanted to sashay her hips a bit more but thought it would look silly. She had never been good at flirting.

By the time they reached the bathrooms, Harley was skipping and dancing on one leg.

“Hurry up before you pee your pants. You should’ve told me you had to go badly.”

Harley pushed open the last stall and slammed it shut. “I didn’t think about it until we stood up,” they girl told her through the walls.

Cade decided it would be a good time to use the facilities as well. Before she could even pull her pants down, she heard the door swing open and a gaggle of women walked in, laughing. Groupies. She wondered if they knew they were there and if they had followed her.

“He’s totally doing her,” one of them said.

“What makes you think that?”

“Isn’t it obvious? C’mon. Who hires a female bodyguard other than the fact that he wants to screw her?”

“She’s not even hot. Did you see her outfit? Eck!”

“I think she’s pretty. And she’s nice to the little girl.”

“Oh, shut it, Monica. He’s screwing her. Maybe she’s nice to Jax’s daughter because she wants to bag Jax. Oh my god, I have to let Fiona know!”

“No!”

“Yeah, wouldn’t you want to know if your boyfriend or baby daddy is fucking the help?”

Then they all laughed.

Cade’s arms stretched. Her hands pressed against the stalls. She looked to her left, where Harley was. She shouldn’t be hearing these things. And she knew the girl was listening. She hadn’t made a sound since the women walked into the bathroom. Cade had to be strong for the both of them. She sucked in a lungful of air, shook her hands, and walked out of the stall.

The women, all facing the mirror and fixing their makeup, gasped when she appeared. Cade walked up to one of them. The woman flinched when Cade lifted a hand.