Sweet Child o' Mine Read Free Page A

from LA are
completely insane. They asked for spring water but nothing filtered by modern
hands or from any country with a dictator or not approved by Angelina Jolie.
They also asked for water without carbs. Seriously. They think water has carbs.
We could make so much money off these people.”
    It
would be a miracle if he survived the afternoon. “How does Chelsea feel about
heading to LA for a couple of weeks?”
    “Months,”
Alex said. “This could take months and Sully has promised to pay top dollar.”
    Charlie
frowned. “I don’t know that I want to be so far away from my sister after the
babies are born. I kind of hate that idea.”
    “I’ll
figure it out.” If Charlie wanted Chelsea, who was the single least maternal
woman he’d ever met, around their babies, then Chelsea would be there. “Maybe
this once, Jesse can work with Michael.”
    She
went on her toes and kissed him. “Thanks, babe. And have you come up with a
name yet?”
    “Rocky.”
It was a joke between them now. “Or Rambo. Hey, maybe you’ll name yours Rambo.
I think they’re perfect names for twins.”
    She
made a vomiting sound and slipped her hand in his as they walked down the hall.
“Over my dead body.”
    “Is
he still doing this? What was it last week?” Alex asked.
    Ian
saw the conference room up ahead. It was full of Sully’s “cast.” Apparently, it
wasn’t Kendalmire’s way to travel with less than an entourage. “Chuck. Girls
can be named Chuck.”
    “Not
if they want to have any kind of a social life. Ian, they’ll be here soon. Mine
is Kenzie. Her sister needs a name that wasn’t plucked from an action movie.”
Charlie gave him her death stare but it was really softened by the hand on her belly. She smoothed it over as though soothing the babies
inside. “We can talk about it after the meeting.”
    He
stepped inside, and Sully was talking to his people.
    “This
is all going to be over soon and it won’t disrupt your schedule.” Sully spoke
in silky tones, like he was calming down an unruly child. “Trust Mr. Taggart.
He’s got a sixth sense about this kind of thing. We’ll have you safe in no
time, Hoover.”
    Hoover
Kendalmire stood at the back of the conference room, his likely expensive
loafers tapping against the floor. “My life isn’t safe, Sully. There’s nothing
about this life that’s safe, and I’m going to put it all into my music, man.
You’ll see. I’m going to be the new Eminem. Except way more attractive and less
angry. Why so angry, dude? But seriously, I’m going to be the Eminem of
Malibu.”
    Sully
sighed. “Well, we can get right on that as soon as we get back to California.
We’ll be out of here soon.”
    An
emaciated blonde flipped her hair back. Ah, the girl who modeled. According to
her press kit, Brie Westerhaven was the daughter of a minor rock star from the
eighties and a groupie who didn’t know how to use birth control. The show
chronicled her attempts to make it big on fashion runways while her dunce boy
attempted to take on the music business in absolutely the most superficial of
ways. They were surrounded by hangers on. Hoover’s two
brothers, his producer, who looked heavily invested in dental gold if that grill
he was wearing was real, two personal assistants, who looked like they really
wished they’d finished college and gotten real jobs, and the chick with the
crazy eyes.
    Ian
looked over at Alex, who shook his head.
    “You
can’t know that,” Alex muttered under his breath. “Don’t, Ian. We should follow
procedure.”
    “Do
you see those eyes?” It was all so clear to him and he’d spent two seconds with
these people.
    Alex’s
mouth firmed stubbornly. “It could mean nothing. Let Jesse handle it. He’ll
follow procedure and we’ll actually make money off this.”
    Brie
shook her head as she paced. “God, I hope we get back to Cali soon. This is so
boring. I thought Texas was one of those not real places. You know what I
mean.”
    She
glanced