Broken (Book 1, The Watcher Chronicles, Paranormal Romance) (32 page)

Chandler
looks over at me with mischief in his eyes.

“Ok
, who is Deon and what’s wrong with the way I look now?  Watcher uniforms not allowed at concerts these days?”

“Well, you are definitely going to have to leave the plasma pistol
behind,” Chandler laughs.  “I know you could probably get away with carrying one to the concert, but I would rather you didn’t.  Sends the wrong vibe and I like for people to listen to me sing without having to worry about being shot.”

I laugh.  “Ok. I can do that for you I guess.  But seriously, what is this Deon person going to do to me?”

“Now that would just ruin the surprise,” Chandler says, leaning over and giving me a peck on the cheek.  “Trust me.”

I purse my lips at him and shake my head wondering what I’ve just gotten myself into.

When Deon and her crew arrive at
Chandler’s hotel suite, she doesn’t exactly match up with the picture I had in my mind.  I suppose I was being judgmental.  Since we are in a rock and roll environment, I assumed Deon would dress edgy and over the top.  She actually comes in looking like she just stepped off a runway in Milan with her crisp white suit and perfectly coifed straight hair.

She holds out her hand to me when
Chandler introduces us and her skin is like black velvet it’s so soft.

“Pleased to meet you,” Deon says.  “And m
ay I say I’m happy to see you are nothing like the regular girls Chandler has me tend to.  I’m glad he’s found a nice girl this time.”  She takes in my Watcher uniform.  “But that uniform is going to have to go.  Otherwise you’ll scare off half of Chandler’s concert attendees.”

“Ok
, I will leave you in Deon’s capable hands,” Chandler says, giving me a peck on the cheek.   “I’ve got to meet my agent downstairs and head on over.  Deon will bring you to the concert for me.”  He turns to Deon.  “Treat her good.  Don’t care how much you spend.”

Deon lifts an eyebrow.  “Dangerous words to speak to a stylist.”

Chandler laughs.  “I trust you, Deon.”

After
Chandler leaves, Deon asks me to go shower and wash my hair so she and her crew of two women and one man can get me ready for the concert.

When I emerge from the shower, I’m not sure what to put on.  I rummage through the clothes
Chandler has and find a button down shirt and a pair of shorts which are too large but I refuse to go out without something on down there.

Deon and her helpers set to work on me immediately.  While the girls curl my hair in
to a multitude of spiral curls, I see Deon and the man looking at a rack of clothing they must have brought in while I was in the shower.  Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Deon pull out something bright red.

“This will show up nicely on stage,” she says
to the man.

I see that the dress is made out of a red nylon/spandex mix material with a square neck line, thin shoulder straps, and horizontal sections of material which give it a bandage type effect.  There is a long zipper in the back which tells me I will never be able to put it on by myself.

“On stage?” I question.  Chandler didn’t say anything about me having to be on stage.

“Oh, just in case,” Deon says with a wave of her hand like I have nothing to worry about.

For Chandler’s sake, I hope she is right.

At around six that evening, I call Faison to let her know where I will be since Mama Lynn didn’t answer her phone.

“You’re going where?” She practically screams at me.  I hold the phone away from my ear.

“Chandler Cain’s concert
at Madison Square Garden,” I tell her a second time.

“I definitely picked the wrong job,” Faison whines.  “Bring me back a T-shirt
!”

“Do you want it signed?”

“Oh my God,” she says enunciating each of her words dramatically.  “Are you telling me you’re actually going to meet him?”

“I pretty much spent the day with him,” I tell her and she squeals, forcing me to
pull the phone away from my ear again.

“Well if I had to pick someone for you to rebound
with, it would be Chandler Cain.  He is
beyond
gorgeous.”

“He’s just a friend, Faison,” I tell her.  “Now
do you want him to sign the T-shirt or not?”

“Yes, yes yes!”

After I get off the phone with Faison, Deon dismisses her crew and escorts me to the ground floor level of the hotel to an awaiting black stretch limousine.  It doesn’t take us long to get to Madison Square Garden.  Apparently, Deon is like one of Chandler’s crew because we breeze by his security team when they see I’m with Deon.  She escorts me to a private room where Chandler is getting ready.

I guess I understood he was a rock star but find it amusing when I see him all gussied up as one.  He has make up on with his eyes surrounded by black eyeliner.  His hair looks similar to his natural style but seems to be standing up on end a bit more
dramatically.  His outfit is somewhere between punk rock and neo-Victorian with its stiff collar and cravat around his neck.  The white shirt he is wearing has puffy sleeves.  A pair of black skin tight leather pants and matching vest completes his look.

When
Chandler sees me he hops out of his make-up chair and twirls around in front of me. 

“What do you think?”

I smile because he is like a big kid.  “Very rock starish,” I say.  “You’ll have the girls swooning in no time.”

He smiles and it
literally lights up the room.

Chandler
runs his eyes up and down my body and whistles, “Deon does know how to dress a lady.  You’re looking wicked cool tonight, Jess.”

Chandler
introduces me to people in his entourage but I don’t pay too much attention to their names.  I seriously doubt any of them will become very important to me.  When it’s time for the concert to begin, I’m told I can watch everything from the side of the stage.

I didn’t want to admit it to
Chandler but this is the first time, besides the song I heard on the radio in my car, that I have actually listened to his music.  I instantly know why he is so popular, especially with the female population.  His love songs are sweet and sentimental, just like he seems to be.  The faster, more upbeat songs are catchy and I find myself tapping my foot to their beats.

Near the end of the concert,
Chandler turns to me and motions for me to come to him on stage.

I sh
ake my head and take a step back only to find a pair of strong hands pushes me gently forward.

“Go on out,” I hear Deon say to me.

A man on Chandler’s road crew brings two stools out onto the stage.  When I step out, I feel like I need sunglasses the spotlights are so bright.

“I’d like for you to all welcome my friend Jess to the stage,”
Chandler says into the microphone.

I c
an’t see the crowd because of the glare of the lights, but am silently thankful I can’t see them.  Otherwise, I feel sure I would probably faint from the sheer number of them.

Chandler
points to the stool beside him, indicating I should take a seat.  Someone brings out an acoustic guitar to him and before I know it, I am being serenaded by Chandler Cain in front of thousands of people.  I silently pray I don’t end up as a viral video clip on You-tube but know such an occurrence is inevitable in the age we live in. 

When the song ends,
Chandler gives me his million dollar mega-watt smile, and I can’t help but smile back at him.  Though, I do vow to kill him later for making me come out on stage but that’s just a small detail.

Chandler
gets up and thanks the crowd for coming before wishing them all a good night.  The curtains close and he grabs one of my hands to escort me off stage.

“I can’t believe you made me do that,” I tell him
, shaking my head in disbelief.

“Oh come on, I couldn’t just let the most beautiful woman here stand on the side of the stage.  They deserved to see you in that knock out dress.”

I just continue to shake my head but am silently flattered by the complement.

I do, however, wish I had prepared myself for what was waiting for me o
ff stage: a scowling Mason.

“I came to check on you since you didn’t call,” he says
.  I hear the anger in his voice and don’t understand why it’s there.  His eyes travel the length of me and he looks disgusted by what he sees.

“That’s my fault, man,”
Chandler protectively positions his body between me and Mason.  I have to assume he’s concerned for my safety from the murderous way Mason is glaring at me.  “I wanted Jess to see my concert.  I should have remembered what you said about calling.  If you want to blame somebody, blame me.”

“No,
she
should have remembered me,” Mason says in a low voice, almost like he thinks I completely forgot he existed.

I touch
Chandler on the shoulder which makes him turn to face me.

“Thank you for the concert and Deon and everything.  I had a great time, but I should probably be getting home now.”

Chandler takes my hands into his and holds them to his chest.  “When will I be able to see you again?”

“It’ll be soon.  I promise.  We have a lot of work to do.”

Chandler leans into me and kisses me on the cheek.

“Call if you need me,” he whispers into my ear.  “I put my private
number in your phone.”

I nod.  “Ok, I will.”

Before Chandler can even let go of my hands, I feel Mason grab my arm roughly and instantly find myself standing inside his house in Colorado. We are in the same room I first phased to the night we met and he asked me to be a part of his team.

I yank my arm out of his grasp.

“That was rude,” I say.  “You know I don’t like rudeness.”

“Is it that or is it that you just didn’t want to leave your new boyfriend
so soon?” Mason asks scathingly.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I say like the idea is ridiculous, which it is.  “I can’t expect you to understand our connection because I don’t fully understand it myself.”

“Just how ‘connected’ are you?” Mason questions hotly.

“What concern is it of yours?” I
ask with my own temper flaring.  “I think you’ve made it pretty clear from your silence the last few days where you and I stand with each other now.  You have no right to question who I spend time with or how we spend that time together.”

I didn’t think it possible but Mason’s expression
actually darkens.

“Just how close did you
two get today?” He growls, demanding an answer.

“
Why do you care?”  I shout.

Mason looks away from me.  “
It’s just a question, Jess.  Why can’t you answer it?  Or would explaining the details be too embarrassing for you?”

“We’re friends,” I tell him
, completely exasperated.  “There’s nothing for me to be embarrassed about.  We didn’t do anything but talk and get to know one another.”

“Is that all?” Mason asks, even through the hard edge of his voice I can hear his relief.

“Yes, that’s all,” I tell him, feeling my anger slowly ebb away as I suddenly realize why Mason has been acting so strange since my first meeting with Chandler.  He’s jealous.  “I don’t want anything more than friendship with him and I can safely say he feels the same way.  We can’t help the way our archangels make us feel towards one another.”

Mason looks back at me.  His eyes travel all over my face as if looking for any tell tale signs that I’m holding something back from him about my feelings for Chandler.  Satisfied that I’m telling the truth, he says,
“So do you have any idea how we’re supposed to activate his crown so we can find it for him?”

I sigh heavily.  “No.  Not a clue.  From what Michael told me
Chandler will have to display some of his power before it will reveal its location.  How we get him to do that?  I’m not sure.  I don’t exactly want to throw him in a room with a demon just to see if he sinks or swims.”

This gains a reluctant chuckle from Mason.  The first one I’ve seen in a long time.  It makes me smile because I know the Mason I’ve come to know and care deeply about is still lurking behind the surly façade he’s been hiding behind all day.

“I agree,” he says with a lopsided grin, “we probably shouldn’t throw a demon at him to see how he reacts.  But, we will have to figure out something.”

Joshua walks into the room dancing to some music only he can hear.  When he sees us, he takes his ear buds out.

“Hey, Jess.  Long time no see,” he says with a smile, truly happy to see me.

“Hey, Joshua.  What are you listening to?”

“Mason told me you were at a Chandler Cain concert and it made me want to listen to some of his music.  Hey,” Joshua says, quickly coming to stand closer to me.  “Do you think you could score me a couple of tickets to his next concert in Denver? It’s on Valentine’s Day.  I’d really like to take Caylin to it.  Thought it might be a nice first date.  What do you think?  Do you think she would like that?”