Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Why the hell is she working as a publicist?”
“She took a job with Evolution, and they said they wanted her to get hands-on experience first, so they sent her on tour with Sam York to learn about marketing during a tour. She didn’t do what he accused her of, and now she’s been blacklisted everywhere. Nobody wants someone who’s been tainted working on their team. If she’s able to be your publicist for an entire tour, she’ll have a better shot of getting another job because everyone knows your publicists never make it.” She looks at me with her damn puppy dog eyes. “Please, Brax. She needs a clean slate and a good recommendation, and you guys need a publicist for the tour.”
“Fine,” I relent. “But don’t think I’m going to make it easy on her.”
She nods solemnly. “I understand. Thank you.”
We walk back out, and everyone—including Kaylee—has found their seats. Gage and Declan are sitting next to each other discussing the details of the tour Jill sent over—she’s meeting us in LA since that’s where she’s located. Camden is sitting across from Kaylee, talking low. Layla goes over and sits next to her husband, snuggling into his side. He kisses the top of her head, and not for the first time, my heart squeezes in my rib cage.
It was easy to tuck my heart away for the past six years. None of us were interested in settling down. Our only focus has been on making music. But then Camden saw Layla again, and the dynamic changed. He’s become a father and a husband, and watching them, mixed with seeing Kaylee again, has the hurt and resentment I felt all those years ago rising to the surface.
Kaylee glances over at me, realizing the only seat left is next to her, and smiles sadly, as if silently asking for a truce. Well, fuck that shit. She’s not getting one. She wants to be on this tour to save her ass? Fine. But I meant what I said to Layla. I sure as shit won’t make it easy on her.
CHAPTER TEN
KAYLEE
This was a mistake. A desperate, stupid mistake. When Layla suggested it, I told her she was out of her mind. Me spending two months on the road with Braxton? She couldn’t be serious. But she insisted it would also benefit the band because while they have Jill, they need a publicist to help with the promo of the tour as well as keep the guys organized and in line and make sure they’re where they need to be. Jill can’t do it all. Since Braxton and Gage apparently screwed the last woman who went on tour with them, Easton—Camden’s dad, the band’s manager, and the president of Blackwood Records—said it would help him out since the PR companies they use won’t allow anyone to go on tour with the guys.
I suggested a male publicist, and Easton laughed humorlessly, saying the last guy they hired ended up all over social media after being recorded with strippers while they were in Vegas. Apparently, no one is immune to their charms.
So like the masochist I apparently am, I agreed to go. The pay is damn good—although I have a feeling it’s more than what they usually pay. It probably includes hazard pay for all that I’ll be dealing with. I should’ve requested that when I took the job with Sam York, but at the time, I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. Between his drug problem and constantly hitting on me, I should’ve known it would end with him fucking me over. But even working with him didn’t prepare me for going on tour with Raging Chaos.
The first two concerts in LA were easy. I handled the radio giveaways, organizing the meet and greets for the winners, and it all went smoothly. Gage and Braxton both behaved. Camden and Declan were social and chatty. The guys took pictures and signed merchandise, and for a minute, I thought, I can totally do this. But I should’ve known there was a reason for the obedience: Layla and Felix. They were there with Camden—celebrating Felix’s birthday—and that kept the guys in line. Then she and Felix got on a plane, and we got on the buses, and everything changed.
We’ve been in Vegas for less than eight hours, and as I stand in my doorway to my hotel room, watching as Gage and Braxton stumble down the hall with multiple women in tow—who look to be hookers or at least dressed like ones—I’m not sure I can do two months of this. I know I have no right to feel the way I do. If anything, I deserve it. But holy shit, my heart hurts watching Braxton, his lids slightly droopy from being drunk and maybe high, being draped by two women who are all over him like fleas on a stray dog.