I stuck my fingers in my ears and pleaded with him to stop. “Don’t quit your day job, buddy. That was terrible.”
He pressed a hand to his chest and pretended to be offended. “I think I was born to be in musicals.”
He said it in a very poor Southern drawl, then chuckled before flicking a finger at the file. “Everything about her is in there. Unlike me, she was actually born to be in musicals. She’s got the voice of an angel and the face of a fucking supermodel. It’s easy to see why people are so obsessed with her that they’d threaten to kill her if she doesn’t get back onstage.”
“Really?” I tilted my head. “It’s easy to see why people would want to kill her?”
“I’m just calling it like I see it. She’s got something of a cult following, it seems. They want her back.” He pointed at me. “Do whatever you have to do to keep her safe, Carter. She’s had some pretty scary things happen to her, and according to her team, she’s taken everything in stride. If she’s finally agreed to let them put someone on her, it’s because she’s taking this seriously. We have to do the same.”
I saluted him before standing up. “You know I’ll do my job to the best of my ability. Let me go check her out. I’ll let you know if I have any questions.”
When I got back to my house, I went to make a cup of coffee before I settled in behind my desk to do my research. I nearly spat out my first sip when I saw the name and picture of the client I was going to be looking after for the next month.
Holy. Shit. It’s Rylee. My Rylee. Well, not mine but my best friend’s little sister. Wow. Yeah. I’m definitely taking this job now.
Fate had to be at work here. I just didn’t quite know what it was playing at yet. What I did know was that if people were really making death threats against Rylee Naples, there was nothing I wouldn’t do in order to keep her safe.
I’d have to go out to buy pants with more space in the crotch so I wouldn’t be fucking uncomfortable all the time, but Bart was right. This was serious.
Well, there goes it being a once-in-a-decade experience.
Chapter 6
RYLEE
Almost exactly two years ago to the day, I’d given my last interview. At the time, I’d thought it would be my last one ever.
It had been only a couple of weeks after the fall, and mere days after my diagnosis. I’d barely ever heard of MS before that. I couldn’t even remember if I’d realized it was a real disease until the day the doctors told me I had it.
It’d been a terrifying, confusing time. All I recalled knowing for a fact was that my life as I’d known it was over. Leaving the reporters behind was about the only part of it I hadn’t minded that much.
Little had I known that two short years later, I’d be sitting across from the jerk from the New York Times, ready to give my next first interview. Nathan had been driving Jules crazy with interview requests, and he’d eventually contacted me while I’d been in Conroe for Thanksgiving to ask if he could set it up.
I knew that the media was a necessary part of my comeback. I’d just been hoping for a softer re-entry than being grilled by Nathan Biles. On the other hand, if I could still handle Nathan, I’d be able to handle everyone else.
Maybe it’s a good thing he’s first. Not that it felt like it when he walked into the hotel business center where the interview was taking place.
A slimy grin was plastered on his face when he slid into the seat across from me. Jules was around here somewhere, but I really wished he didn’t have to hang around in the background. It would’ve been very freaking nice to have him sitting right next me, but unfortunately, my big-girl panties and I had to get through this by ourselves.
Nathan uncapped a pen and opened his old-school spiral notebook. If I hadn’t known him, I would’ve loved that he still took notes with a pen and paper. I did know him, though. Which meant I also knew that he wasn’t going to record the interview on any device because then there was no evidence if and when he hit on me.
“You’re a difficult girl to get ahold of, Ryles.” He tapped his pen on the table and narrowed his eyes at me. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought you were avoiding me.”
“Rylee is fine.” Nathan always tried to establish this feeling of overfamiliarity. It’d always weirded me out. “I’m not avoiding anyone. I’m simply a little unclear about why you’d like to speak to me. We thought you might’ve sent your interview requests to the wrong person by accident.”
Yeah, right. All two dozen of them. Jules had been very clear, though. I wasn’t to make any snide remarks, admit anything, or give Nathan any reason whatsoever to dig into my life. I’m one hundred percent onboard with that plan.
The snide-remark thing would be a bit of a challenge, though. Nathan really brought out the worst in me.
His eyes narrowed even further, leaving behind only slits. “It wasn’t an accident. I didn’t make the requests to the wrong person.”
I smoothed out the sleeves of my linen jacket and folded my hands on the table. “In that case, I’m not sure what I can help you with, but here we are.”
“Here we are.” The hostility suddenly vanished from his face, leaving that horrible predatory expression clear as day in the way he looked at me. “The city is buzzing with news of your comeback.”
“My comeback?” My voice was steady, which was a definite win. “What comeback?”
“Word on the street is that you’re coming back and will play Elphaba Thropp in the new run of Wicked that’s starting just after the new year.”
“Is that so?” I twisted the thin silver necklace that hung all the way to my stomach between my fingers, my hands still on the table. “How interesting. Elphaba Thropp. That’s the Wicked Witch, right?”
“It is. I’m not surprised you’re familiar with the role, given that I hear you’ve been working at it for months.” He poised with his pen ready to take down my answer.
I shrugged. “Every fan of Broadway is familiar with the role, I’m sure. The Wizard of Oz is one of my personal favorites, and Wicked is a fantastic musical.”
“Is that why you agreed to play the role after all this time? Some people were convinced you’d retired for good.”
I shook my head. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I was just very stressed at the time and I needed a break. I haven’t retired.”
“You also haven’t answered my questions about whether the rumors are true or not,” he pointed out. “There’s news that you might do a New Year’s performance when the ball drops. That true?”
My jaw nearly dropped open on that one. The New Year’s performance was supposed to be a big surprise. How on earth does this asshat know about it?
“A performance when the ball drops? That’s a wonderful idea.” I was trying to skirt around the issue, but Nathan looked at me like he knew exactly what I was doing.
No matter. We’d only agreed to a sit-down for fifteen minutes. Just keep treating him like a mushroom. Keep him in the dark and feed him shit for eight more minutes.