Under the Cover of Darkness

17 | Alexandra

“Yo B!” came a voice from a car that pulled over a few feet from where I stood on the curb sending another text to Carson.

Peering into the car I instantly recognized Bill from the heavy gold chains around his neck.

Bling Bill was what the magazines called him. He was a genius at marketing and could make any singer go platinum in months.

He was mostly into managing singers but he recently decided to spread into DJs and I was his pet project in the area.

“Hi Billy,” I greeted, offering him a smile.

“Don't call me that. Come on, get in, we don't want to keep the host waiting.”

I checked my phone and saw it was just 6. “I thought it was starting by eight?”

“Eight, nine, ten thirty, don't you still need a ride to the damn place?”

“Fine, fine,” I huffed as I opened the door and slid into the seat. I noticed it wasn't as soft as Carson's and instead of the sophisticated pine smell that lived in all of Carson's cars, Bill's smelled like alcohol and greasy fat.

My stomach churned at the familiar stench of stale liquor and I hurried to distract myself from the memories that spewed.

“So how's the venue?” I asked as Bill pulled away from the brightly lit four-star hotel.

“They're setting up the equipment as we speak. You're gonna make it lit as usual, B.”

“Three days for a wrap party? Seems a little excessive to me.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Rich people are different creatures man, they play by their own rules. Besides, Nick and July are tying up loose ends in Jamaica. They won't be back until tomorrow, even then they'd probably be jet-lagged so they won't be able to attend until Thursday.”

“Oh,” was all I said.

That made sense.

“But tonight, oh! We are going to have ourselves a mighty . . .”

I stopped listening as my phone vibrated with an incoming text.

It was a reply from Carson and the corners of my mouth tugged upward as was beginning to be the custom anytime I thought of him.

After our talk at the gallery last night we got in the car and suddenly feeling a thousand times lighter I closed my eyes for a minute. I had no idea I fell asleep until I woke up a few hours later, Carson's leather jacket around me and found out we were already in Orlando.

He'd stopped at a gas station to refuel but Carson himself was nowhere to be found.

I later found him at the back of the mini-mart puking his guts out. Right there, bent over a decrepit trash can, one hand clutching his stomach, he looked completely emasculated and vulnerable and I still found him supremely attractive.

I wondered how I would ever go back to working in a professional setting with him without the urge to throw him against the wall and kiss the living daylights out of him completely overpowering me.

Not wanting to interfere, I had walked gently back to the car.

Now, staring at his text, my heart rate picked up even though he was nowhere in sight. That was the power of Carson Miller.

He had told me he would be late seeing me because he was stuck with some unexpected work that the idiots under his employ at the Miller Inc. branch here couldn't handle without his fucking help. His words, not mine.

Seeing as I hadn't told him the details of the party I wasn't expecting him to be there. Even if I did invite him I was ninety percent sure he would've still cooked up something to avoid the party completely. For someone who was constantly in the tabloids, he was not much of a social butterfly.