When superstar Kade Hendrix steals Ivy's song, she falls into his world of public scrutiny-and his arms-just as the rest of her world falls down around her.
Ivy is sure superstar Kade Hendrix won't notice his number one fan in the crowd of his intim...
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Being the daughter of a soon-to-be senator had its perks.
Mainly: knowing exactly where the VIP exit was for the auditorium mainly used for musicals or campaign rallies—specifically, one I'd attended last month with my father and the family he actually paid real attention to.
The moment I'd convinced Constance to hop in a cab and pretended I'd be going back to my father's country estate for the weekend—yes, he owned an entire estate.
I hardly ever went back there but I'd convinced her by pulling the pity card and saying that I didn't want to run into Caleb for the weekend.
It wasn't necessarily a lie, but it definitely wasn't a truth.
When I returned for the night, she'd be in Isaac's bed at his frat house anyway, and I didn't want to examine just how much that struck a piercing needle through my heart at the thought.
I snuck around the side of the building once outside, skirting around the posted security guards in black t-shirts with 'SECURITY' printed on them in white block lettering and the rest of their uniform seeming to include a bald head, thick beard and arms bigger around than Constance's entire body.
Cigarette smoke and honking horns filled the night air around me as I glanced up to an overcast sky blocking the light of the moon and counting my breaths until the night stilled to a halt around me.
It had been over two hours that I'd spent lingering at the merch table, scrolling on my phone in a nondescript hallway...and that was all after calling CSS more times than I could count and emailing Mr. Cartwright himself and his assistant to let them know what was going on.
Surprise, surprise, their offices were closed and their work numbers switched off at midnight on a Friday night.
I hid behind a corner of the building before slipping past a few fangirls who'd been camped out apparently not having been quick enough to buy a ticket to the show.
The guards kept them away and I huffed out a breath until I spotted the exit and rushed to where I remembered filing out of the building with my father and half-siblings, my stepmother leading the charge with her white pantsuit outfit and ostentatious feather hat like we were at the Derby or something.
The door had just shoved open when I scrambled behind another barricade that held hordes of paparazzi that had apparently figured out this 'secret' exit just like I had.
Shit.
I thought I'd have been able to get away with this, but it was looking like that wasn't the case.
"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to back up," one of the security guards tried on me and I snapped.
"I need to talk to Kade Hendrix right the fuck now."
"I'm sure you do, but all fans—"
"No, you're not listening to me. I'm not some crazy stalker, I—"
