Too Many Rock Stars: Violet's Story (Access All Areas 1)

The door to my office opened.

"It's only me, don't throw things." Razer covered his head just in case.

I jumped up off the sofa and threw my arms around him. He'd been so busy rehearsing for the past few days that I hadn’t seen him during the day. After the competition gig, a few important industry people sniffed around, showing interest.

Since we’d started dating, Razer had become determined to take his career to the next level. He wanted to prove himself to me. While I approved in theory, I missed him hanging around.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Trying to catch you napping in those skimpy shorts," he said, his fingers running down my belly to the waistband.

I slapped his hand away.

"Not here. Anyone could walk in."

"Not if we put that sofa in front of the door."

I looked from the sofa to the door and back to the sofa, but no. Did he even know these people I worked with? Razer and I in my office with a locked door – they'd be outside listening. Maybe even recording.

The mushy stuff could wait for home. Even if it killed me.

I shook my head. The look on Razer's face almost made me reconsider. Damn it, he was a hard man to resist.

"We can go run to your place for a quickie." That made him grin.

"Will you leave the shorts on?"

I rolled my eyes but slipped my skirt on over them. I sure as hell was not going out into the bar in just those shorts. In the storeroom, Mark mopped the

floor, very close to my office door.

"Since when do you mop?" I asked him. "That's Drew's job."

Drew might be a bit simple but he wouldn't even think of spying on me, unlike Mark.

We walked into the bar before Mark could answer.

"Should we stop for a drink?" I asked, jokingly.

We exchanged glances, both of us urgently needing to be alone.

"Whoa, off for some sexy times?" Carlie popped up from behind the bar. She was in the middle of restocking and held two bottles of whiskey in her hands.

Before I could answer, the bar door opened. An early customer. But Carlie gaped at the doorway as though she'd seen a ghost.

A guy stood there. As tall as Razer and with long hair. He walked in as though he owned the place, his gaze on the bar. That man looked like he had a mighty powerful thirst. A thirst that would take a long time to quench.

I knew that guy. Unless you’d been living on Mars, you’d recognize Holden King. His latest hit, Rock Princess, was everywhere.

When that guy approached the bar, the bottles fell from her hands, smashing on the floor.

"Fuck, no," she whispered. "Fuck."

Her gaze darted around as though looking for an escape route.

"Do you want me to stay?" I rushed to the bar.

She shook her head and looked up at the stranger. No matter what she said, she was so far from okay. All the color had drained from her face and she shook. I’d never seen Carlie look flustered before. All her toughness had dropped to the floor like those bottles.