Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109318 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109318 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
“Yes. Therefore, you’re forgiven for not knowing if there will be shrimp cocktail.”
“Oh, there’s always shrimp cocktail. That falls under the category of big picture stuff.”
“You’re obviously a visionary. What about dessert?”
He settled into the seat beside her. “A wide selection.”
She gasped. “That’s my favorite dessert.”
Beat’s laughter boomed through the SUV and Melody smiled, a pleased flush coloring her cheeks. Even though it was a terrible idea, he wanted to study that blush closer, so he scooted over, reached up, and grabbed her seat belt, greedily inhaling her gingerbread scent while he dragged the nylon strap across her body and engaged it with a click. Then he made the mistake of looking at her mouth and the zipper of his tuxedo pants turned restrictive. Jesus.
There was a camera recording his every move and still he couldn’t quite stop weighing the pros and cons of kissing her—
“Hey!” Someone shouted into the SUV through the door, which hadn’t been closed yet. Beat turned slightly to find a woman he didn’t recognize waving her phone around. “Holy shit. I’m watching your Instagram live right now.”
A pair of young men stopped in their tracks behind her on the sidewalk, their mouths dropping open. “Oh my God,” shouted one of them, jogging toward the car, his friend close behind. “Can we get on camera?”
Stranger number one used her body to block the men from entering the car. “Where is the gala? Are you really going to reunite the band? Are you two a couple? Seems like it!”
The two men were growing impatient and began elbowing their way into the SUV around the woman. A squabble ensued and Beat took their distraction as an opportunity to reach for the handle, swing the door closed, and slap the lock down. It wasn’t until the sound of the argument cut off and the SUV roared away from the curb that he realized his pulse was drilling like a jackhammer in his temples.
When he managed to find his voice, he turned toward Danielle where she sat in the rear row. “What happened to the security you were supposed to hire?” A finger poked Beat in the ribs and he realized he’d squashed Melody into the corner, using his body as a shield. With a muttered apology, he eased away. Slightly. “What if Melody had been sitting closest to the door?”
For once, Danielle looked caught off guard. Dumbstruck, even. “I . . . the security team is meeting us at the gala. I didn’t think we would require them this quickly.”
“I wouldn’t have thought so, either,” Melody murmured.
They looked at the camera simultaneously.
Beat cleared his throat. “How many people are watching now?”
“Do you really want to know?” Danielle asked after a few seconds of tapping on her phone.
“No,” Melody said, quickly.
Beat thought of how easily Melody could have been yanked out of the car. Or asked something a lot more mortifying than their relationship status. “Hire more security.”
Danielle let out a breath and lifted her phone to her ear. “Good idea.”
Not five seconds later, everyone traveling in the SUV—him, Melody, Danielle, Joseph, a lighting technician, and the driver—seemed to get a text. Then another and another, turning the interior of the SUV into an echo chamber of electronic chimes.
Beat was almost afraid to look, but he did so anyway, watching messages from his friends populate the screen, one by one. Of course, they were texting him with questions. He’d told them nothing about the live stream and they’d obviously missed any promo. In other words, they were finding out in real time on social media.
He started to pull everyone into a group chat, so he would only have to explain the situation once. A blanket message to keep things impersonal and vague, as was his modus operandi. But before Beat could tap out an explanation and get the thread started, a video clip from his buddy Vance popped up, accompanied with a text that read: someone has it bad. Beat tapped the play icon, quickly hitting pause when he saw it was a clip of Melody. Clearly, the footage was taken recently, because she was wearing the same gown.
Don’t watch it. Some intuition told Beat it was a bad idea. But when Melody turned around in the seat to speak with Danielle, Beat couldn’t talk himself out of tapping play again and holding the speaker of his phone closely to his ear.
“How well do you know Beat?” came Danielle’s voice.
“Not well. Not well at all,” responded Melody. Beat held his breath. “I-I mean, I feel like I know him. That doesn’t mean anything, does it? A lot of people probably feel like they know Beat, because he’s so personable. When he looks at you, everything just kind of fades away and . . . yeah, everything just kind of fades away when he’s around, I guess. He’s kind and thoughtful and you’ve seen him. He’s . . . beautiful.”