My mom startled at the screams, glancing toward the group gathered.
“Why are they here?” Mom asked.
I wanted to laugh but kept it to myself. Mom would never get what my life was like since becoming famous. I’d tried to include my parents in it so they could see it for themselves, but they’d only been to a couple of the smaller concerts early on. They’d never seen me in front of tens of thousands of fans.
“I’ll be right back,” I said, heading toward the crowd.
“What are you doing? I thought we were leaving?” Mom called.
I ignored her, almost running to the fans who were smiling and happy to see me. They were already snapping pictures and shooting videos with their phones. Marco was at my side, straight-faced and in mission mode while he scanned the throng.
“Y’all showed up for little ol’ me?” I said to the group, and they were screaming my name in return, shoving out papers and phones.
The first person I reached was a plus-sized woman with auburn hair and brilliant green eyes. Pretty in a way I was sure got overlooked by many of the people in her life. I took the paper from her hand.
“Who should I make it out to, babe?” I asked and wanted to smack myself in the head at the word ‘babe.’ It proved just how tired I was, because it only slipped out of me when my brain and my body were beyond tired these days.
“Deena. D-e-e-n-a. Oh my God. I can’t believe you’re actually here,” she breathed out, eyes awestruck.
“Deena, your gorgeous smile and candy-apple green eyes are gonna be stuck in my head for days,” I told her, giving her back the paper and then grabbing her phone from her other hand.
I stuck my arm out as far as I could, then turned so I was placing a kiss on her cheek while taking the selfie. When I turned back, she was ten shades of red.
“You have a beautiful holiday, Deena,” I said and then moved to the next person along the rope.
I spent about fifteen minutes signing everything, including arms, papers, and CDs. Taking selfies while smiling, flirting, and reminding myself that these were the people who’d made everything happen for me. These were the people who bought my songs, not some stuffy critic, sitting behind a desk, using his words like a knife to my gut.
My phone pinged out my manager’s ringtone. It was my “Ghost” single that had rocketed up the charts off my second album—right before everything had gone to hell with Fiona, the stalker. Right before we’d upped the security details with Garner’s men and they’d given me the code name based on the song title. I’d laughed at the time and said if I was Ghost then Lee was the leader. I’d changed his name on my phone and never changed it back.
GHOST TEAM LEADER: Trevor says there’s a crowd there. Stop signing autographs and go spend time with your family.
Lee was right. I was using the crowd to delay the inevitable?sitting in acar with my parents for an hour while we drove home to Grand Orchard. Pretending for them. Wearing the cheerful face they knew as their son, Cormac, rather than the country singer, Brady O’Neil.
I handed back the paper I was signing and then smiled at the rest of the throng. “Sorry, darlin’s, that’s all I have time for today. I hope you all have a beautiful holiday, whichever ones you’re celebrating.”
I blew the mob a kiss while people continued to clamor my name, disappointment curling through their voices and me. I hated letting them down. But if I didn’t stop at some point, I’d be there for hours, and the longer I stayed in one place, the more people would show up.
On the way back to the SUV, my phone buzzed again.
GHOST TEAM LEADER: Remember they love you.
We both knew he wasn’t talking about the mob.More than just my business manager, Lee was the person who kept me on track whenever I started to derail.
ME: I’ve never questioned it.
GHOST TEAM LEADER: Remember you actually have a family to spend the holidays with.
ME: I’m one of the lucky ones.
GHOST TEAM LEADER: Damn straight.
ME: Hug your parents for me.
Like the rest of my team, Lee was going home to his family for a much-needed break.
GHOST TEAM LEADER: Mom will say you do it better.
ME: She’d be right.
