Page 41 of Holding On

I did want to, but you’re right. Fiona absolutely was the enabler… and held the phone as I pressed dial.

“Listen, you guys can all stay out here, be good little toy soldiers, and no one else is coming in here. Okay? You don’t need to watch us talk about girl stuff, right? Unless…” Fiona tilts her head to the side to size up the bodyguards Rick stuck on me tonight. “Did you have an opinion of a diva cup versus an organic tampon? I’d be open to hearing your thoughts—oh! And especially if you have any tips for dealing with in-grown hairs after shaving your bikini line.”

The bodyguards blanche and look at each other, shaking their heads. I don’t even bother learning their names at this point because Rick seems to rotate them out every month or two, and they never do anything to help me anyway. They only answer to Rick, so I don’t care to speak to them if I don’t have to. “No, that’s okay. We already secured the suite. Any deliveries will be required to be checked, though.” He glares at me like I’m trying to smuggle trade secrets into my hotel room.

“That’s okay, Arnold, we’re only going to order in some food, nothing too exciting, and have some girl talk. Okay? Okay, great.” Fiona grins and pats his arm. We’re rarely in the same city at the same time, let alone performing at the same concert or festival, so when our schedules allowed us to be at the same festival and hotel, we wanted a night together without worrying about cameras or press or bullshit in general.

“My name isn’t Arnold, it’s⁠—”

Fiona interrupts him, “Oh, honey, it’s okay. You look like an Arnold, so that’s what you’ll be to me. Okay? Have fun boys and don’t worry about us!” She boops him on the nose and pulls me into my suite, shutting the door with her hip and locking it with a mischievous grin.

The wall of muscle may have cleared the suite, but they didn’t clear Fiona’s bag. Rick doesn’t want me drinking tonight because he thinks I’ll look bloated tomorrow. Fiona knows how tight of a leash Rick keeps me on, but she always finds a way around it. She pulls out a bottle of tequila, a small bag of limes, and an artisan citrus salt for tequila shots. An hour later, the artisan salt proved not to help the burn of the shots, but after a while, nothing seemed to bother me and I was laughing too hard to care anyway. Allie has a lower capacity than us and is already sprawled out on the sofa with her eyes closed with a grin on her face.

“Clutter cats called,” Allie calls out to me and Fiona as we sit at the breakfast table on the other side of the sofa. I think Fiona is playing a card game, or more aptly, I think Fiona thinks she is playing a card game, but really, she’s just shuffling the cards in a mess.

“Cool crescendo crashes,” Fiona adds without looking up from her cards but dissolves into laughter. She’s used to our silly alteration game.

“Coffee calling cows!” I join Fiona in her giggles as Allie mumbles something, and I suspect she’s going to spend the night in that exact spot.

“Ooo, calling! That gives me an idea!” Fiona jumps up, and promptly falls over on her ass, before bouncing back up to grab her phone off the counter.

“Who are we calling? It’s … I don’t know what time it is but it’s late! Or early! I mean, it’s dark out, Fi!” I point to the window because obviously that’s a time.

She waves me away as she pulls something up on her phone and turns it to show me—and it’s him.

Of course it’s him.

Fiona knows that I’ve been in love with Jack for years, and she strongly believes I made a mistake when I ducked out of that hotel room, but I can’t change the past.

But I can rely on liquid courage. I reach over, with Fiona still holding the phone, and press the call icon, before I squeal and duck to the floor.

“Are you FaceTiming him?!” Fiona flips the phone back, laughing as she falls into her chair. “Girl, the way you ducked onto the floor, I expected to see his face glaring back at me!”

“My face?” I hear Jack’s low timber in the hotel room and I slap my hand over my mouth, still crouched on the floor. “Fiona, are you alright?”

“Oopsie daisy, hey there, Boss Man! Sorry, WE didn’t mean to disturb you but just wanted to say hello.”

“Oh? And who is we?”

“Oh, you know, me, Allie … Tinsley.” Fiona grins at me on the floor, ignoring me making the universal cut sign—clearly not cutting it out.

“Tinsley’s there?” His voice sends shivers down my spine, and I have no right or claim to this man, but I want to. I want to claim him and keep him—forever. But that’s what darkness does, it swallows things whole and they disappear altogether. “Hello?” Jack pulls me out of my thoughts.

“Say hello, Tinsley,” Fiona eggs me on, wiggling her eyebrows and grinning.

“Hello, Tinsley.” My meek reply causes Jack to chuckle.

“You sound thrilled, Tins. What are you ladies up to at … well, I don’t know what time zone you’re in so I’m not sure what time it is there.”

Why does that make me sad? He doesn’t need to know where I am, so why would he?

“We both performed at Summer Fest in Hotlanta tonight, and damn, it was hot indeed!”

“That’s right. We had quite a few Lux artists there tonight. Good crowd?” Jack asks like we’re business associates. I can feel my happy dimming, and this is not what I wanted tonight.

“I thought the energy was great. What do you think, Tinsley?” Fiona tilts her head toward the phone and mouths ‘talk to him!’ at me.

“Yeah, good crowd. Good energy, great concert. Too much tequila.” Oops.