ALL ACCESS

Chapter 15

Twenty-four hours later we left Boston and arrived at the Plaza in New York by mid-afternoon, only to disembark into chaos. With the music awards starting in a few hours every newspaper and rag sheet had their reporters out in full force. And, they were all looking for a scoop. I could only hope and pray Chris didn't say anything. He talked more of us getting married than I did. Every time he said the M-word I wanted to hurl. I could leave, but his threats of serious harm hung in the air like his foul stench of two-day old body odor and no deodorant.

The night before, he was strung out on something and held a steak knife to my throat. Said he'd find me if I ever left him. I'd pay. His Mum did it once and his Da taught her a lesson. He wanted to give me the punishment but I cowered and told him I wouldn't ever leave. He put the knife to my throat and made a little nick just to prove his point. On or off the drugs it didn't make a difference what I did anymore that set him off. I wasn't about to rock the boat. I kept quiet and just did what he said. Life was easier for me that way.

He went to the awards ceremony without me. Pre-show interviews he said. I was to come later with the group. That suited me fine, though I worried about the dress I bought. He hadn't seen it. Staring into the mirror, it looked just as amazing as did in the salon. I smiled at myself then frowned. Even though he requested it, Chris would think there was too much va-va-va-voom. With a heavy sigh, I put more pins in my hair and did a quick fix to my make-up, covering the last remnants of faded bruises.

Flux was up for two awards and they were to present one as well, though they had no idea to who. I prayed that Flux won because if not, I shuddered at how Chris would behave. With a final once over, I grabbed my glitter shawl and clutch bag and left the room. I couldn't be late. Paul would leave without me and if I didn't show up...My ears heated up and I rubbed my arm, a defensive gesture and nervous habit I picked up.

Fiddling with the strap on the gold lamé bag I made my way to the back hall elevator that Paul said would take us to a private side entrance. Press wasn't allowed in this area and he didn't want the band mobbed. I heard the sharp ting of the elevator.

"Hold the elevator," I yelled running down the hall. As I came around the corner I saw James holding the doors open.

"Thank you," I said breathlessly. Damn, he looked amazing. A leather jacket with silk shirt, tie, and snug black pants. With the black Stetson and boots, he was dressed more to be going to the Country Music Awards than the People's Choice. I looked him up and down and drank him in. Lord, I loved a man who knew how to dress.

"Running late, Miss Jessie?"

"Yes. You too I see, Mr. Roberts." I leaned against the back wall and held the wooden railing as James pressed the button for the first floor. I glanced down at my black, sparkling shoes. The doors shut and the steel machine kicked into gear. I hated elevators.

"You look pretty."

I looked up and saw the boyish grin I loved. My stomach began to flip, but in a good way. I grinned. "You look handsome too." He was probably the only band member to wear a suit – he'd stand out – but then it didn't really matter what he wore because he always stood out. I'd have to keep myself in check and focus on Chris tonight, but while I rode the elevator James would be a nice distraction. Looking up I saw we had fifteen more floors to the ground. Crap, I thought twisting the strap on the bag.

"So Flux is going to win tonight, right?" Could this elevator move a bit faster? I wondered.

"I'd like to think we will. We have as good a shot as any I s'pose. We're up against some stiff compe...hey, you okay? You don't look-"