Authors: Alison Rose
Off the Record (16 page)
She looked around. ‘Are you telling me that even now, your security team are somewhere near us? I can’t see anyone on guard.’
‘That’s what we pay ’em for,’ he said. ‘To protect us without trespassing on our private space. They’re out there, all right. You’re quite safe.’
She was silent for a moment, trying to absorb this information. ‘So your men are keeping watch all the time?’ He nodded. She glared at him. ‘And you let me kiss you, out in the open, knowing full well we had an audience?’
He laughed and pulled her into a bear hug, stifling her protests.
‘Yes, I let you kiss me, woman! D’you think I can remember my own name when you’re within a few feet of me? Hell, I forget what day it is, so how am I supposed to think about anything but the taste of you? Now, kiss me again.’ He didn’t give her a chance to do anything else as he brought his mouth down on hers. He kissed her breathless, and when she could finally speak she knew exactly what he meant.
‘Who am I?’ she asked. ‘What day is it?’
‘You’re my woman, and I want this day to last forever,’ he replied, his deep, husky voice sending shivers down her spine. ‘Let’s go eat some lunch.’
For a moment, she felt her heart catch. The thought of being his woman was both exciting and terrifying. But she doubted he meant it in any permanent sense. He was Paul Brand, who was rarely seen with the same woman twice. She should just take his comments, and his kisses, with a pinch of salt, and remember that soon she’d be returning to the real world without him. In the meantime, she didn’t see why she couldn’t have some fun.
She stepped out of his embrace and placed her hands on her hips. ‘Now you’ve gone and spoiled it, Brand. How can you think of food when you’ve just feasted on me?’
He looked her up and down. ‘You look like you could do with feeding up, otherwise my appetites just might do you in,’ he mocked, sending her into gales of laughter.
‘Come on then, caveman. Drag me off and throw me some raw meat,’ she challenged, tongue in cheek. ‘Then we’ll see who’s got the biggest appetite.’
They had a leisurely lunch, enjoying poached wild salmon, new potatoes, and fresh green asparagus. They’d shared a wildly sinful chocolate dessert and were contemplating coffee when Kate’s mobile emitted a beep, indicating the arrival of a text message.
‘It’s from Mum. I wonder why she didn’t just call.’
‘What’s it say? My dad’s always sending me the corniest jokes by text. I figure he’s too embarrassed to say them out loud.’ Instead of responding to his banter, Kate stared at the message, her face pale. ‘Kate, what is it?’
She raised a trembling hand to her mouth, shaking her head. She quickly selected her mother’s number on her speed dial and called her. When the call went straight through to voicemail, Kate swore.
‘What’s going on?’
She jumped, so focussed on her phone that his voice startled her.
‘I can’t believe she’d … oh God!’ she raised distressed eyes to meet his concerned gaze. ‘This can’t be from my mother. She’d never …’ Unable to say any more, she shook her head again and handed him her phone.
‘‘I want you to know what a whore I am. Johnson Brand is fucking me and I am begging him for more,’’
he read. ‘This came from your mother’s phone?’
‘Keep your voice down, for goodness’ sake! I don’t understand it. There must be some mistake. She’d never say something like that! Never!’ She took the phone back and tried to call her mother again. As before, the phone rang and went straight to voice mail. Kate was close to tears. This was a nightmare. What had happened to her mother to make her say foul things like that?
‘Come on.’ Paul threw his napkin down and stood up. ‘We’re going to find out what this is all about.’ Kate was glad of his warm hand in hers as they headed out of the restaurant and towards the lift.
Paul held on to Kate’s hand, willing her to stay calm, while maintaining an iron control over his own emotions. He was furious. He had no idea what Kate’s mom was playing at. It didn’t make sense!
Why would she do something like that to her own daughter?
In the elevator, Kate stood quietly, her head bowed. He could feel her trembling, and had to fight the urge to wrap her in his arms and tell her it would be OK. But he couldn’t do that. The text message had been in the worst possible taste, not at all what he would expect from a woman with any class, let alone a woman of God.
The thought brought him up short.
It just didn’t fit
. Even his limited acquaintance with Alexandra Armstrong had showed him that she
was
a classy lady, and a woman who lived her faith sincerely. And when he’d had Kate checked out he had also had her mother investigated. She was clean. Exactly as she appeared.
‘Are you sure it’s her number?’ he asked quietly, aware that Kate was on the edge.
She raised tear-filled eyes to him, her temper to the fore. ‘Of course I am! It’s programmed into my phone. The bloody phone recognises the number.’ She closed her eyes and took a calming breath. ‘What I can’t tell you is who sent the message from my mother’s phone, but I refuse to believe that she would do such a thing.’
‘Me neither.’
‘What?’ She opened her eyes, staring at him in disbelief.
‘I think you’re right. It’s not your mom’s style.’ Paul gave her a grim smile, stung that she had so little faith in his judgement. He wondered how she’d feel if she knew about the reports he had on her and her mom. ‘It’s not the action of a woman looking for any sort of a relationship with a guy. Your mom seems more like an apple blossom and white lace type.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean? That she’s trying to catch herself another husband?’ She snatched her hand out of his and poked him in the ribs with her index finger. ‘Well let me tell you …’
There was a discreet ping as the elevator reached their floor and the doors slid open.
‘Easy, tiger.’ Paul took possession of her hand again before she could do him any more damage. ‘Let’s go see what’s happening, huh?’
‘All right,’ she agreed belligerently, pulling away again and stalking down the hall ahead of him. ‘But watch what you say about my mother, Brand, or I’ll do more than poke you in the belly.’
‘Much as I’d love to find out exactly what you’re threatening me with, Armstrong, I think we need to get to the bottom on this with our folks first.’ He caught up with her as they reached the suite entrance. She knocked an impatient tattoo that said ‘don’t mess with me’.
‘I don’t threaten, Brand. Upset my mum and I guarantee to chop you off at the knees.’ She banged on the door again. ‘Why the hell aren’t they answering?’
With infinite gentleness, Paul laid his hands on her shoulders and moved her to one side before taking a key card from his jeans pocket and opening the door. Kate stalked into the suite, ignoring the low bow he gave as he gestured for her to precede him. Paul slipped in behind her before she was able to slam the door in his face.
‘Mum?’ She walked into the room, looking around the empty room. ‘Mum?’ she called louder. ‘Where the bloody hell are you?’
There was a muffled thump behind one of the closed bedroom doors. Paul moved forward to stand behind Kate as, a few seconds later, it opened and his father emerged, closing the door behind him.
‘Hey, Kate, is there a problem?’
Paul put a hand on her shoulder, sensing and understanding her agitation. In the middle of the afternoon his dad stood before them barefoot and bare-chested. His jeans were zipped up, but unbuttoned, and his hair was mussed. Johnson’s apparent nonchalance was spoiled by the flush on his face. If ever a guy had been caught with his pants down …
He could feel his grin fighting to escape as he watched his dad look anywhere but directly at his son and the young woman facing him. Hot damn! He wanted to laugh out loud at his parent’s embarrassment, but he knew that if he showed the least sign of amusement it would be he, Paul, not his dad who’d get blasted by the woman squaring up to Johnson. He bit the inside of his cheek and increased his grip on Kate, feeling the emotion bubbling up through her body.
‘Where is my mother?’ she asked quietly.
For a split second Paul caught his father’s eye. It was long enough. Suddenly, watching his dad squirm wasn’t so funny. Was he crazy? What the hell was he playing at, messing with Kate’s mom? A friggin’ country priest!
‘Uh, Alex? She’s …’
Kate’s phone rang in her hand, and all three of them jumped. But the strident tone didn’t deter her.
‘Where is she?’ she demanded, ignoring it.
Before Johnson could answer, the door behind him opened and Alexandra Armstrong slipped out to stand beside him. Like his father, her cheeks were flushed. At least she was dressed. The two of them stood there, looking guilty and more like high school kids caught in the back seat of a car than a couple of middle-aged parents.
The phone stopped, leaving a deafening silence.
‘Kate, darling …’ Alex began, only to be interrupted by a renewed summons from her daughter’s mobile.
Paul squeezed Kate’s shoulder. ‘Better get that,’ he suggested. ‘Sounds like whoever it is won’t quit until you do.’
She spun away, snapping open the offending instrument and moving over to the window to deal with the call. He watched her go, her body language screaming impatience.
‘Paul,’ his father said quietly. ‘What the hell is going on? Kate looks ready for a lynching.’
He nodded. ‘Oh yeah. That is one pissed young lady, Dad.’ He turned to the older woman. ‘Alex, do you have your cell phone with you?’
Puzzled, she looked around for her bag. Spotting it by the dining table, she retrieved it. After a quick rummage, she gave up and went to tip the contents onto the table. But his Dad stepped forward just in time to stop her from spilling her things onto the puddle of what looked like spilt coffee staining the tablecloth.
Alex gave him a grateful smile and went over to the sofa to continue her search.
‘I … er … managed to tip coffee all over,’ Johnson explained. ‘Alex was just rinsing my shirt out in the bathroom while I looked for a clean one.’
So they hadn’t been dirty dancing!
Paul wondered if Kate had heard his dad’s explanation, but a quick glance revealed that she was still talking on the phone.
‘It’s not here.’ Alex looked up. ‘I don’t understand.’
Relieved that their instincts had been right, but aware that this pointed to a whole new scenario, Paul felt unease spread up his spine. It was time to call in their security team.
‘Yes, Bishop. I’ll get her to call you. As soon as possible. I’m sure there’s been a misunderstanding. Goodbye.’
Kate ended the call and was about to switch off her phone when it rang again. She checked the caller ID and let out an impatient breath before answering it.
‘Maggie, hi.’
‘Maggie? My neighbour? And the bishop?’ Alex moved towards her daughter, only to be waved away as Kate turned her back on her. She turned to Paul, her face a picture of confusion.
‘What is it? I don’t understand.’
‘I think someone’s got your phone, Ma’am. Kate got a message, and it sounds like a few other folks got it too. You’d better sit down and wait for her to finish this call.’
He looked at his father. ‘Better get Jake up here, Dad. Someone’s out to cause a whole mess of trouble. We’re in for a rough ride. It’s bad. Real bad.’
Kate decided that the last week rated as one of the worst of her life, right up there with losing her beloved father. She lay in bed, in yet another anonymous hotel room, unwilling to open her eyes and face the day, hoping in vain that she might find oblivion in another hour’s sleep.
They still didn’t know who had taken the phone and sent that awful text message. Whoever it was had caused maximum damage by sending it to every number stored on her mother’s phone. Kate thought that working as a journalist had hardened her, but she hadn’t been prepared for the sheer malice behind this action, or her mother’s distress.
‘Why would anyone do this?’ Alexandra had asked. ‘Why would someone want to say such vile things about me? Have I done something, Kate? Have I hurt another human being so badly that they wanted to do this?’
Kate had no answers. None of it made any sense.
She felt the familiar ache of a tension headache begin, and rubbed gently at her temples in a vain attempt to ward it off. The shock of seeing her mother emerge from Johnson’s bedroom still reverberated through her in waves which caught her unawares.
She knew now she’d got the wrong impression and they were just sorting out a coffee spill. She believed her mother absolutely when she said that they hadn’t done anything to give credence to the crude words that had been broadcast over the phone network about her.
But she also knew that there was a growing closeness between the older couple that was threatening to change things more than Kate had ever imagined. It was something Kate wasn’t sure she could ever be comfortable with.
And that worried her; because she was pretty sure what was happening between them wasn’t going to go away. Her mother’s future happiness might rest on whether Kate could accept her relationship with Johnson Brand. Lord knows, there were plenty of others who were doing their best to spoil things for them, without Kate putting up extra obstacles. It was just hard seeing her mother with someone who wasn’t her father, and she worried that this incident was just a taste of what might come her way if she was involved with Johnson. Kate felt rotten about it.
The memory of Alex’s distress when she read the message still haunted her. The fall-out had been even worse. First the bishop, then so-called friends and parishioners had been in touch, outraged and in some cases already condemning. It was as though none of them really knew her mother and were willing to believe this filth without a single thought.
Johnson’s security team had gone into overdrive, trying to find out how it had happened. The best they could come up with was that she’d lost her phone at the concert when she’d fallen and dropped her bag.
But the simple explanation of the phone’s loss didn’t explain the content of the message. It was as though someone was spying on them, yet Kate knew that Johnson maintained a high level of protection around him to safeguard his privacy. Until the phone incident, she had thought he was a little over the top about that, but now she could see exactly why he would want to remain isolated. The past few days had left her feeling exposed and vulnerable. She didn’t know who to trust, and she hated what it was doing to her sweet mother.
Alexandra had been devastated by it all. The bishop had tried to be sympathetic, but questioned her judgement on spending time ‘associating’ with a rock star. Some of the die-hards on the Parochial Church Council had taken the opportunity to renew their campaign against women priests. She had insisted on going home to face them, which was far more than Kate thought they deserved.
It had taken a miracle to keep her mother’s name out of the media. Everyone who’d received the text had been told about the lost phone, and Kate knew one or two had been politely but firmly told that, if they made any of this public, they would find themselves involved in an expensive court case. Kate’s boss had called, asking about rumours of Johnson’s new lover, and she had had to do some fast talking to convince him that there was nothing to report. He hadn’t been happy: his instincts too good to be fobbed off.
‘If you’re too busy getting up close and personal with Brand Junior to find out what’s happening with his dad, you’d better sort yourself out, my girl. There was a woman at the Manchester show. No one got near enough to take a picture, but I hear he sang a song he’s never performed in public before – a love song. Did you see her?’
‘I’m afraid not. Are you sure there was a woman? I didn’t see anyone after the show.’
‘Bugger! What about the song? Have you heard it before? Can you get hold of the lyrics?’
Kate shifted uncomfortably, glad her boss couldn’t see her over the telephone line. ‘I heard it, but I don’t remember the lyrics. I couldn’t say it was a love song. By that time my ears were ringing – do you realise how loud it is in the front row? It was just something he did on a whim.’
‘Don’t talk bollocks, Armstrong! There was a woman, and he sang her a love song. If you’re too blind and deaf to notice that, you’re doing a lousy bloody job.’
‘Boss, I …’
‘Shut it. I want the story, Kate. Before every other bloody paper gets it.’
‘I’ll do my best, boss,’ she assured him, fingers crossed, teeth gritted.
‘Well, make sure you do, or I’ll write my own story to go with those lovely shots I’ve got of you and the boy wonder.’
Kate was furious, but she was protecting her own mother and there was no way she was going to be responsible for adding to her misery by producing the story for the paper. If it meant that her editor exposed her to the public with those damned photos she’d have to live with it. So far he hadn’t followed through with his threat, but she knew that it was only a matter of time.
Johnson’s team had kept the rest of the press pack at bay, but for how long was anyone’s guess. If someone from home decided to talk to the press, despite the threat of legal action, there would be nowhere to hide. Some people had tried to film the performance on their mobile phones, but the quality was awful and you couldn’t prove anything by it. In the meantime the media had nothing but rumour and innuendo, and they were using that. Kate toyed with an idea, writing a fluff piece about the love song incident, hinting that a fan had specially requested it or something. But she just couldn’t get the words right. No one would believe it. She was a lousy liar.
Yes, this week had definitely been a glimpse of hell. And Paul hadn’t helped. It had been so odd. After his initial support, he’d become very quiet and withdrawn. Then he’d dropped his bombshell.
‘I think Kate should go home with her mom,’ he’d declared that evening. ‘Her being here complicates things.’
‘Are you crazy?’ she’d asked, unable to believe he could even suggest such a thing. ‘Don’t you realise, if I’m not here then someone else will be sent to report on it – someone who won’t have a vested interest in keeping quiet about my mum and your dad.’
‘You’re the only journo we’ve sanctioned. No one else will be allowed to replace you.’
‘So you just cut me and the paper off? How would you explain that?’
He shrugged. ‘Our PR guys will come up with something.’
‘Like what? Something to match the photos my boss has of the two of us?’ She shook her head. ‘Or are you going to get them to spin some line like they did when Greg missed the show? A sickness bug?’ She’d almost believed the guitarist’s story herself, except for her conversation with the drummer.
‘You can’t do this, Paul. My editor is a shark and unless I stay he’ll make mincemeat out of the lot of us.’
‘We’ll handle it,’ Paul said. ‘It won’t be the first time. The important thing is to get you and your mom out of here.’ He looked at her, his expression set. ‘Go home, Kate. Get yourself a normal life, where you can stay safe.
Kate felt as though she was going to explode. He had gone from playful lover to supportive friend to cold stranger in a matter of hours. What was wrong with him? ‘Don’t be ridiculous. What’s normal? And as for “staying safe”,’ she made quote marks in the air. ‘Nothing is guaranteed in this life. So-called normal people get mugged, or fall off ladders, or get run over by buses every day. Without me here to create a smokescreen, not only will I lose my job, but someone else will make the link to my mother and we’ll both become targets for any hack who fancies making a quick buck with the tabloids. Any chance of this elusive ‘normal life’ you want us to go back to will fly out of the window. I won’t let you do this, Paul. I’m staying.’
‘It’s not your decision to make.’
‘No, son,’ Johnson interrupted. ‘It’s mine. And I say Kate stays.’
‘Dad …’
‘I know you’re trying to do what’s best, Paul, but Kate’s right. Sending her away will draw more attention to this whole damned mess. Her mom wants to carry on as usual while we try to get to the bottom of this, and I’m not happy about that, for sure. If I had my way I’d have these gals hog-tied and sent somewhere safe before they had time to draw breath. But you’ve seen how damned stubborn they are. If Sandy won’t accept our protection, we have no choice but to keep Kate here and act like nothing is wrong.’
Kate had been so relieved by Johnson’s defence of her, but Paul had been furious. ‘I hope you know what you’re doing, old man,’ he’d snarled as he left the room, not even looking at Kate.
For the rest of the week Paul had remained distant. He definitely wasn’t himself. It wasn’t just Kate who noticed – other people commented. Most of them thought they’d had a lovers’ tiff. One or two gently hinted that she was asking for trouble if she thought she could get any further than a brief fling with him. Rather than give anyone reason to gossip about them, she said nothing even when she wanted to yell and swear at them. Only the long-standing American members of the crew remained silent, which made Kate suspect they’d seen it all before. But they weren’t talking to anyone, especially not her. Even if her mother was known to be involved with the boss, Kate was still a reporter, and they guarded the Brand men’s privacy jealously. Paul’s behaviour was also encouraging the rest of the band and crew to clam up, making her job ten times harder. She couldn’t even get a straightforward quote for her articles out of most of them. She thought about asking Johnson about it, but what could she say?
‘
I need to know why your son is acting this way. After a lifetime of dealing with this sort of stuff, why has he let it upset him? Why does he want to send me away? I thought he …
’ She shook her head. No, she couldn’t do it. She’d end up looking like a lovesick fool. If Paul wouldn’t talk her, she definitely couldn’t involve his father. She needed to remember why she was here. She was a professional journalist. For now, at least.
In the meantime, Paul avoided being alone with her. She filled her time with the internet, researching the JB B and the Brand family. There was nothing unusual. Paul hadn’t really come to the public’s attention until he sold his first song, which provided a number one hit for an up-and-coming R&B singer. Johnson had kept his son closely guarded from the press when he was growing up.
It was all so frustrating, not least because she had been getting to like him so much. But maybe, after all, he was doing her a favour. Getting involved with a rock star’s son was obviously a bad idea if her mother’s experience with the rock star was anything to go by.
Yet it had actually brought the older couple closer together. Johnson bought her mother a new phone and they talked daily. From what Kate could see, Alexandra was drawing strength from his support, whereas without Paul’s sometimes annoying presence at her side, Kate felt cast adrift. She was so confused!
Damn him
!
Realising that she was too agitated to have any hope of a relaxing lie-in, she got up and headed for the bathroom. In the shower, she sang ‘I’m Gonna Wash That Man Right Out of My Hair’, wishing that her voice was loud enough for the man in question to hear her from his ivory tower.
