The Last Love Song (A BWWM BDSM Romance) (13 page)

The light show was flawless, the pyrotechnics impressive, the dance number full of energy. I couldn't tell how the sound was but I would examine the recordings later.

Everything onstage was perfect.

Everything offstage was not.

"Zenaida! Zenaida, tell us about your show!"

"Why did that dancer quit? Why is she calling you a bully?"

"Zenaida, tell us about Michelle!"

That bitch. That twirling, dancing, bitch. I hope she breaks both her feet!

"Who let these people back here!" I called over the questioners' heads. Vaughn and the other bodyguard, Bryan, were already lifting them and moving them aside to reach me. Lexi was screeching at them, Gavin was squeezing his way in between me and their cameras.

I was fucking pissed. They did not belong backstage, someone had let them through. And I had a sneaking suspicion I knew who was involved.
This will never stop if I keep running
. "Give me my phone," I said to Gavin. He blinked before he passed it back to me.

Vaughn reached me before I could use it. "Let's go."

"I need a minute." I gave him a long look, hoping he would understand. When we looked back, Bryan and the venue's security guys were removing the unwelcome interviewers. Everything would be under control soon. "I need to do something."

He nodded.

I turned away from the spectacle and dialed a number that I hadn't dialed in a very long time. A number that I'd deleted from my phone long ago, that I’d tried so hard to forget. But it was tattooed on my brain, and I dialed every number without hesitation.

It rang. I tasted bile as I waited for him to pick up, my stomach churning with all the old fears, but I refused to back down. But then I
heard
it - a cell phone ringing, somewhere in the distance. A familiar ring. I peered around
Anyone could have that tone, it's been years...

And there, further backstage amongst the lighting crew and the sandbags, was Camden. Wearing a white suit with a gold tie, he didn't look like he'd aged much since the last time I'd seen him face to face. His hair was shorter, and he'd shed a lot of the more casual, youthful hip hop style in favor of suits, making him look more professional. But there he was, the same old Camden. Waiting. Smiling.
Motherfucker
.

"Wait here," I said.

"Zenaida-"

"I'll signal you." I wasn't even looking at Vaughn, but I could feel his strength behind me, and I drew from it as I stepped in Camden's direction.

"Z," he said, his eyes lighting up. "You look amazing. Great job out there."

"What are you doing here, Camden?" I clenched my fists at my sides.

"I wanted to see you. I've been trying to see you but you've been... inaccessible."

"That's on purpose."

He showed me his palms. "I just want to talk."

"How many times have I told you that I don't want to talk?" I hissed.

"You need to cut this shit out, Zenaida," he said, his smile fading. "Do you have any idea how many doors slam in my face because of you? Because people don't want to work with me, because you can't let this old shit go? You're sabotaging my fucking career!" His face was twisted by the end of his rant, and he was leaning forward, towards me, but he hadn't moved his feet.

Maybe he knew better. Or maybe he saw Vaughn watching somewhere behind me. Either way, he was smart enough to stay where he stood.

"And your answer to that is to send your little cronies out to harass me?"

"They didn't harass you, they just wanted to talk to you. Fuck." He dropped his hands. "You know, after all this time, I've held out hope that you'd come crawling back?" I scoffed at that. "Even if that never happens you'd better learn to fucking get along, Z. You keep dragging me down and I'm gonna start dragging you right behind me."

"I'm considering that a threat." I raised my hand. "You'd better leave me the fuck alone from now on, Camden. This shit is over. It's been over for a long time." Vaughn was there in an instant, standing between us, bodily shielding me from seeing Camden's snarling face any longer.

"Time to move along, buddy," he said.

"Do you have any fucking idea who I am? Fucking bald-ass pasty motherfucker, mind your own fucking business!"

But Vaughn wasn't listening. He was turning me, ushering me away, back to my crew and then into the hallway behind the backstage area.

I was shaking when we stopped just outside the women's dressing room. Ignoring the hustle and the bustle around me, I squeezed Vaughn's hand. "Thank you," I said. I spotted Gavin not to far away - he waved impatiently. I was overdue to get back to my seat. Too damn bad, the seat-warmer wouldn't give a shit about the time.

"I can't believe I did that," I said, looking down at my feet. "I haven't faced him in... I don't know how long."

"You did good, sweetheart," he said, his voice low so that no one would overhear. He squeezed my hand back - but then he released me. "Go on and get changed. I'll be right here."

I nodded. I would have rather kept on holding his hand. I would have rather disappeared with him somewhere dark and quiet. But work wasn't over, I wasn't done having cameras pointed in my face, and I wouldn't be done until after the after-party.

But I'd faced the worst. I'd faced Camden. The rest would be easy after that.

The night was as hectic as expected. I'd changed back into my ballgown after the performance - it was the whole version of the torn-up dress I'd worn onstage. A pretty good idea on my art department's part - maybe I'd send them a note later.

I’d rushed to my seat and barely had time to sit for even a minute before the presenters announced the Best Music Video of the Year award.

“Zenaida! Get back up on this stage, lady!” I didn’t recognize the presenter. I thought he must have been some up-and-coming actor or an internet star or something.

“Oh, gosh, thank you so much!” I gushed, accepting the golden statue - a star in a frame that I guessed was supposed to symbolize a computer monitor. “I’m so glad y’all liked my video!” I said from behind the little podium.

The win wasn’t entirely unexpected, so I did have a short speech prepared. I ran down my list of names, “I’d like to thank my manager, my family back home in Philly - hi mom!” I waved at the camera. “And of course my lovely, wonderful, beautiful fans, each and every one of you!” The audience clapped and cheered politely. There weren’t any real fans in the house, there were only music industry and movie folk. Sort of made it less fun if you asked me, but I didn’t plan the thing.

I hugged the award to my chest when I sat back down.
This is why I do this. The music, making people happy.
Sometimes I needed to remind myself. It was too easy to get all wrapped up in the bullshit of the business.

After that, I counted down the hours. Half an hour on the red carpet, two more interviews, one more interview, half and hour of meet-and-greets, one more drink, one more ass-kiss for the record label execs, and then...

Blessedly, finally, I was back in my hotel suite, kicking off my heels and tearing off the dress. Gavin, Lexi, a handful of the dancers, and Pauline crowded in after me as if I'd invited them in. Pauline had a bottle of champagne in each hand, and Gavin was rummaging in the kitchen cabinets for glasses.

Vaughn and Bryan were in the suite, too, but they were still on duty. No partying for them.

Not that I particularly wanted to party with these people, I'd seen enough of them all day. "Don't you guys have any friends?" I asked, exasperated. I took a glass of champagne from Pauline, anyway.

"Who needs friends when we have you?" Lexi said, grinning broadly. She flipped on the stereo and spun around with the music - Trakka's new album, of all things.

"I heard that Camden found you backstage," Pauline said, suddenly serious. "He wasn't supposed to be there. One of the security guys stupidly let him by just because he flashed a pass. Wasn't paying attention. I'll find out who it was."

"Don't worry about it," I said. Pauline's eyes nearly bugged from her skull, and the rest of the room fell silent.

"Don't worry about it?" she repeated. "Who are you and what have you done with Zenaida?"

I rolled my eyes. "Don't be so dramatic. Let's just say I appreciated the chance to finally tell him off."

"I thought you never wanted to see him again!"

"I didn't and I don't. Can we just leave it alone?" I shook my head. I didn't want to talk about it with them. I threw back my champagne and swallowed it all in one gulp. "Drink faster. I want to kick you out so I can go to sleep."
But not until I flip through Lexi's clipboard and sneak a peek at the room assignments
.

They weren't too thrilled to be rushed out the door but I was sure they would find other parties to attend if they really wanted to. It was easier for all of them, they wouldn't have cameras constantly in their face or stupid questions repeated at them every minute. They could go be themselves. I was ready to hide away for the night.

Or so I thought, until Vaughn winked at me on his way out the door.

"One of these nights you're going to knock on my door."
My memory of him saying it was so clear that I could still feel his breath on my lips.
"You need to be restrained. And dominated. And fucked."
His words were so rough, so raw with his own need.

Was he waiting for me right then? Would he be sitting up, hoping, watching his door?

Because I was more ready in that moment than I'd ever been. I'd followed his instructions that week. I was feeling high off of our amazing performance, powerful after facing down Camden. I felt like I could do anything.

Even knocking on Vaughn's door. Because despite the scandal it would invite if we were caught, I wanted it. I wanted him.
I'll be very, very careful
, I assured myself. And I trusted him more than I trusted most people in my life, despite knowing him for a relatively short time.
Oh shit, I'm really going to do this
.

First I needed to disguise myself. It would look suspicious as hell if I wandered out in my gown, and even worse if I padded down the hall in my nightshirt wearing a pair of sunglasses. I may as well have held a sign that said, "Don't mind me, just sneaking around!"

I did have a pair of reading glasses - for disguise purposes only of course - and I could scarf back my hair and throw on a pair of jeans. I wouldn't be completely unrecognizable, but you'd have to actually look. If I kept my head down I could pull it off.

Feeling like a silly girl sneaking out to meet her boyfriend on a school night, I peeked out the suite's door into the hallway. It was completely quiet. No hotel staff, no guests.
Thank goodness
.

I carried an ice bucket just to look busy. It felt silly sneaking down the hall like that, in my half-assed disguise at three in the morning. But I was determined. I took the elevator down to his floor - Lexi had in fact had the room listings on her clipboard and it had been no trouble at all to grab it and taunt her with it while she was drunk.

His floor wasn't quite as quiet as mine had been. I heard someone using the snack machine in a little alcove next to the elevators.
Do I wait them out?
If I could get my back to them I doubted they'd recognize me at all. Hell, everyone staying in that hotel that night was probably too drunk to see straight, anyway. So I skipped past without looking up and breathed a sigh of relief when I reached Vaughn's room, around the corner at the end of the hall and out of sight.