Of course, I won't be so lucky.
Yet it's good to know that at least some of my security concerns are already handled. We'll take the private penthouse elevator down to the sub-basement, then walk through the employees only pedway to the green room where he can prepare for his show. He's given this performance a dozen times already and I've reviewed the videos. It's not terribly complicated. A light show, some pre-recorded backing tracks, three dancers who arrive at scheduled intervals, and a handful of musicians. Everyone's been thoroughly vetted, so they are not a concern.
When I walk back out into the bedroom, something about the site of Dahlia’s reclining body under the Egyptian cotton sheets tugs at something deep in my chest. I realize that I'm happy. Truly happy just to see that she's right there. Right in front of me.
Carefully I walk over to the bed, sliding the sheet from her bare shoulder and dipping my head to kiss her gently until she begins to stir.
“Oh, did I fall asleep?” she asks in a sweet voice, half rolling over and rubbing her forehead with the back of her hand.
“I wish we could just stay here,” I say honestly, “but unfortunately we still have work to do. Kirkman needs to head down to the green room in just a bit.”
Her brow furrows. “Are you still concerned? Is everything all right?”
“Everything's fine,” I reassure her. “He's not going to be my problem after Sunday anyway. All I need to do is keep his stalker from making more of a mess while he's under my care and then I won't have to think about him again.”
“Still didn't find the girl with the blue nail polish?”
She wiggles her fingers charmingly. I snatch them out of the air and tug on them playfully.
“No such luck. Maybe Lori would've had better luck with her after all,” I tease.
Dahlia pouts, thrusting her lower lip out. “I still feel bad about that.”
I take her into my arms, cradling her as I kiss her cheeks, the tip of her nose, and those sweet rosebud lips.
“Well I do not feel bad about anything. Not even a little bit.”
She wiggles against me and smiles, letting her eyes half close.
“I don't think that Lori would've found anything either,” she sighs happily. “She wanted to know if Bunny was a stalker. Can you believe that?”
“Bunny? I never even thought about it. What color nail polish does Bunny have?”
She scowls at me. “Not blue, if that's what you're asking.”
“Oh really? Are you sure?”
She rolls her eyes, pushing herself away from me lightly and crawling to the end of the bed. I watch her scamper away, licking my lips as her buttocks jiggle jubilantly against each other. Oh, the things I want to do to her.
She takes her phone out of her purse and holds it in the air, walking back over to me completely naked. The soles of her pretty little feet whoosh against the plush carpeting and I'm tempted to try to steal a few more moments with my head buried between her legs.
“Here, look,” she smirks, holding the phone out to me. “That's the picture we got with Kirkman. In the Gucci store, remember? Bunny’s a bright red kind of gal.”
“Oh, looks like she is,” I muse, taking the phone from her. I can't help but smile at this. They look like a couple of dorky fan girls, cheesing it up as Kirkman grins like a doofus and wraps his arms around them. The saleswoman stands slightly off to the side, her eyebrows raised in smug disdain.
“Hold on, what's this?” I mutter, expanding the screen to zoom in. “Well, would you look at that?”
“What is it?” she asks, leaning in closer.
I turn the phone around toward her so she could see it too. “Blue nail polish.”
Her eyes go wide and her lips form a small, perfect oval.
“It's the saleswoman? Do you really think so?”
I shrug one shoulder, shaking my head. “Could be. Why not? It did seem kinda weird that Kirkman insisted we visit.”
She shakes her head. “I don't get it.”