“Are you dressed?” he asked from the other side.
“Yes.”
He had the nerve to open the door and roll in a wheelchair.
“Gio! It really isn’t that bad.” I giggled. “I’m fine.”
“You had hypothermia. The doctor wanted you in bed for several days. I shouldn’t even be taking you down to my studio.”
“I don’t—”
“Seriously, Simone. I’ll give you anything, but I won’t let you walk around today.”
I gave him a skeptical look. “You won’t let me?”
Force rode that deep voice. “No.”
Damn. Why did that just make me wet?
I swallowed. “Fine.”
“Thank you, princess.”
“But we both agree that you’re a bit much right now. You’re definitely being extra.” I walked over to the chair and sat. The wheels had plastic coating, probably making it easier to glide over the carpet.
“Comfortable?” he asked.
“Definitely. Maybe a bit too much but apparently, I’m on vacation.”
“My place is too big to have you walking all around it while you’re weak.”
“I’m not weak.”
“Not feeling good, then.”
“Okay.” I pouted. “You’re right. I’m not in top shape.”
There was one thing he was right about. His house was huge. Or perhaps I should’ve described it as a massive log mansion. It seemed more like a ski lodge for celebrities—high ceilings, immaculate furnishings, expensive art hanging on every wall, sculptures sitting in corners. Awards and plaques decorated each room. It was ten times the size of my parents’ house. People could’ve lived in the west wing and others reside in the east, and neither would have to see each other for days.
There was a huge patio outside that glowed with bright lights against the background of mountains and snow. Thirty people could’ve lounged out there on all the wooden chairs and tables with angels carved in the back.
“And what about the level with your hobby?” I asked.
His phone buzzed. He checked the screen and annoyance hit his face.
“I’ll show you later.” He placed his phone back in his pocket but looked pissed. “Let me take you back to the room. Are you hungry?”
I wasn’t really, but there was clearly something that had him upset. He’d already done enough. “Sure, lunch sounds good.”
“Okay. I’ll take you back and check on you afterward.”
“Oh.” Disappointment hit me, but I understood that he had a life outside of me. “That’s sounds...great.”
I guess we’re not going to see his studio today.
He rushed me back without saying anything else. The silence was odd and put me on edge. I wanted to ask him what the phone call was about, but I left it alone, not wanting to invade his privacy.
Chapter 10
Giovanni
Without music,
life is a journey through a desert.
~Pat Conroy
Ru was here.
He’d texted the great news. He’d arrived in Salt Lake City over an hour ago and was riding in a limo to my house.
That won’t do.
After meeting Simone, I’d decided I couldn’t share her time. Not for these first weeks. He’d get in the way just with his presence being in my house.
No. I’ll have to talk to him before he talks to her.
Plus, I had to see where his mind was at when I talked about her. It could’ve just been irrational jealousy, but I didn’t like the flower thing and him going by her place. Sure, he was checking up on her, but that was odd. Ru had big clients all over the world. Simone was just starting. It didn’t make sense he’d devote so much time to fresh flowers and cleaning her apartment.
No. He wants more from her.
The whole time I took Simone back to my bedroom, jealousy spiraled in my chest. And the more I thought of things, the more it didn’t connect. Simone was a superstar spilling over with talent. If he’d been with her all these years, why hadn’t she exploded onto the scene by now?
Something nagged at me.
When we got to my bedroom, I couldn’t help it and asked, “How long has Ru been your manager?”
“Five years. We met in LA.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I had just left my band. My ex was the leader. It wasn’t a good situation. Ru had come to sign us. I’d told him that I wasn’t a part of it. He said that was good because he’d come for me anyway.”
I bet he did.
“He moved me out to New York after I had him meet my parents. Although I’d just turned twenty, I still wanted their okay. I’d never been to New York, and LA had already shown me a bunch of craziness.”
“I can imagine. It can be a city of beautiful monsters at times.”
“Yes.”
“So, Ru moved you to New York?” I asked.
“Yes. He paid for my apartment and bought a small car. I started writing songs for Sacred Soul Sisters.”
“What? You did? What song?”
“Divine. Zoo. Peter Pan.”
“Those were hits. I didn’t see your name on the cover, just S.S.S. and trust me, I looked.”
“Well,” she got out of the chair, “that became a disagreement Ru and I settled. Anyway, I write a lot for his people. I’ve even written a few rap songs for Killer Ray. I get the credit now.”