Caressa's Knees (2 page)

“What about me?”

Jeremy waved his phone. “I’ve been communicating with a friend in New York.
Runs an agency.
PAs, security, household workers.
Discreet service personnel for celebrities and filthy rich people.
If you still want to do this kind of work, I can get you a spot with him. The money’s good in New York and he’s a stand-up guy.”

“You would do that for me?”

Jeremy leaned back and tapped his fingers on the table.
“Yeah.
When you’re clean, of course.
How long have you been using?”

“Using what?” Kyle tried for a smile, but didn’t quite accomplish it with the sudden tightness in his throat.

Jeremy chuckled. “I see.
That bad.
You were totally clean a year ago. I rarely even saw you drink.”

“People change.”

“And they can change back.” Jeremy leaned forward again, pinning Kyle with a ruthless gaze. “She’s not worth it, you know. Nobody is worth what you’re doing to yourself.”

“Not worth it? I thought you loved her.”

“I do love her. I still wouldn’t let her destroy me. And she is destroying you.”

Kyle laughed.
“Really?
Dramatic much?
I haven’t even seen her in months.”

Jeremy didn’t respond, just stared at him with those blue, piercing eyes.
Those eyes that made billions, sold movie tickets to avid fans all over the world.
But this wasn’t a movie.

“Kyle,” Jeremy said. “Nell’s pregnant. We’re starting a family.”

“Oh.” It knocked the breath right out of him, the thought of it. “You wanted that?”

“Yes. We wanted it. She’s very happy. I can never thank you enough for everything you did for me.
For her.
For us.”
He smiled. “Jesus, you took a bullet for her.”

“Eight centimeters from the heart,” Kyle said woodenly.

“Yeah.”
Jeremy sighed. “Now it’s time to move on. It’s time for you to get better. I am guilty about enough things—I can’t live with this too.”

Kyle clasped his hands in front of him, resting his cheek against the back of his palm. Why were his hands so cold? It was still warm in Los Angeles. He was so cold. He felt frozen.

“I’ll help you, Kyle. I know a good place you can rehab. Once you’re off the stuff, you can build a new life in New York so you don’t even miss it. There’s a lot going on there and I think a change of scene will do you worlds of good.” He paused and thought for a moment. “There are other
Nells
out there too, you know.
Maybe not exactly the same.
But they’re out there.”

Kyle tried for flippancy. “I’ll hire a personal assistant to find one for me.”

Jeremy didn’t laugh, didn’t even smile. “I’ll do whatever I have to do to help you. I swear, Kyle. I owe you. I won’t let you go down.”

Chapter One:

Valuable and Fragile

Kyle headed into Ironclad’s New York office in the breezy spring weather, feeling dapper in his favorite gray designer suit and tie. He liked dressing up for these meetings, shaving off the stubble and putting on the monkey suit. All of Ironclad’s clients were wealthy, so its employees were well-versed in the currencies of money and power, not to mention discretion.

In his old life as Jeremy Gray’s assistant, discretion had been Kyle’s middle name. It had to be, and for a long time, that was okay with Kyle. But things were different now, and in a good way. Jeremy had been right, he’d just needed to sober up and find a change of scenery. Last week, when the photos of Nell and Jeremy’s newborn daughter were burning up the internet and plastered all over the tabloids, he’d felt a twinge, but nothing like the despair he’d expected.

The truth was, as much as Nell moved
him,
he could never have made her happy. He realized that now—now that the haze of drugs and alcohol had evaporated. He’d always been the third wheel to their barreling love story. He was his own wheel now.
A unicycle.
He planned to stay that way for the foreseeable future.

Kyle jabbed the button for the elevator. Five minutes early. He’d get to the thirty-fifth floor right on
time
. He was a little curious about meeting his new client, some classical musician who made a lot of money for a lot of people and needed an assistant for an upcoming tour.
Caressa Gallo
, Walter had exclaimed, as if that should mean something to him.

Kyle wasn’t a classical music kind of guy, but he could fake it. He’d worked in L.A. long enough to fake it with the best of them. The client’s agent said she wanted a personal assistant and light security, which was more or less the same thing he’d done for Jeremy. As if that weren’t enough, Walter named a salary that was Jeremy Gray-
ish
in its generosity.

Curious, Kyle had typed ‘
Caressa Gallo, cellist
’ into a search engine, and been shocked to find so many results about a person he’d never heard of before. He’d read a short bio he found on the first page and learned that she was just twenty years old.
So young to have accomplished so much in the music world.
He’d clicked on the photo tab and found pages of pictures of his prospective client.
A mop of outrageously unkempt hair, dark like his.
Green eyes.
Was he
still
a sucker for green eyes? Even now, despite a singular focus and intention to forget her, he subconsciously measured all women against Nell.

But Caressa Gallo would not be a woman to him, just a client. He would do what he was paid to do and keep his emotions out of it this time. Manage her concert commitments, appearances and travel, whatever she needed. Maybe she just wanted a lackey to tote her cello around. She definitely needed someone to brush her hair, because she seemed uninterested in doing so. As long as he was getting paid, he would lend his expertise to whatever tasks necessary.

Still, Kyle felt somewhat disappointed when he got to the conference room only to be greeted by Walter and an older woman. The woman offered her hand and Walter introduced her as Denise Gallo,
Caressa’s
aunt and manager. She had mousy brown hair and a kind of affronted manner about her. Her mouth tightened a little as Kyle shook her hand. After they sat, Walter slid a dossier across the table in Kyle’s direction.

“The specs of the job.
Caressa Gallo is embarking on a nationwide tour beginning the second week of May that will culminate in a series of appearances in Europe through late August. Ms. Gallo tells me they are most anxious to find an assistant who can sign on for the entire tour, rather than having to shuttle people in and out.”

“I can understand that,” said Kyle. “It’s not a problem for me.” Not with the numbers Walter had highlighted at the bottom of the first page. Kyle was sure his family would understand if he passed on the Spur Fourth of July festivities this year. “So, what exactly will your niece need in the way of services? Scheduling? Managing appearances?
Personal errands?”

“We have a remote tour manager who deals with most of the day-to-day scheduling and such,” Denise Gallo said.

“So it’s more of a security detail?” Kyle asked.

Walter paused a moment and Ms. Gallo shifted with obvious uneasiness.

“Mr. Winchell,” she said. “My niece is…how shall I say this?
Very high-strung.
You must understand
,
she has led a most unusual life. She began to play at six and started her first tour when she was ten. She recorded her first CD soon afterward. She is very passionate and talented, but she can sometimes be…difficult to handle.”

Kyle regarded the woman, choosing his words carefully. “Are you saying that my job will be to ‘handle’ her? How involved a task will that be?”

Ms. Gallo laughed. “Don’t look so alarmed. She’s not mentally unbalanced or anything. She is just…different.
And with me being family…
Well, let me be blunt here. We both need a break from one another sometimes. I’m hoping if someone besides me is dealing with the day-to-day issues, the tour will run more smoothly.”

“I understand. Family ties can complicate matters, especially with work.
But what about her parents?”

She looked down with a small frown. “My brother and his wife died some years ago in a tragic accident, so it’s just been me and Caressa.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“There have been difficult times for Caressa, but music is what has always sustained us. Hopefully you can lend a professional edge to the tour and a professional outlook when things between me and my niece go awry. She has her ups and downs, like anyone.”

“Artists,” Kyle joked with a smirk. He meant to lighten the mood, but Walter coughed and gave him a look. Thankfully, Denise nodded and smiled.

“Precisely.
But most of the time she’s quite charming. It’s unfortunate that you couldn’t meet her today but she had prior obligations. A photo shoot, and then practice.
Always practices and rehearsals.
This tour is a very special event, what could very well be a highpoint of her career. She’s going to be playing Saint-Saëns’
Concerto No. 1
.” The woman stopped and looked at Kyle for a reaction, and seemed slightly disappointed when she didn’t receive it. “
In A minor
?” she added, as if that might shake some inkling of recognition from Kyle’s brain.

Kyle shrugged with an apologetic smile. “I know nothing about music. It won’t affect my ability to help Miss Gallo fulfill her professional obligations.”

“Of course,” the older woman said. “Well, what you don’t know of it now, you’ll learn soon enough. It is a virtuoso piece, and it is demanding not just technically, but emotionally. Let me be perfectly clear, Mr. Winchell. My niece is not an easy person to deal with at times. She will be even less relaxed on this concert tour. What I want is for Caressa to be able to concentrate fully on her music and appearances without getting derailed by
distractions,
or butting heads with her stodgy old aunt over things that can’t be changed. The tour manager, Paul, is adept at scheduling, and I can keep a handle on social arrangements and such, but I’m not so great at handling Caressa herself. My niece is a wonderful person and an extremely talented artist, but more and more lately, I think she needs a…firm hand.”

A firm hand.
For one wild moment, Kyle imagined himself pulling the talented, mysterious Miss Gallo over his lap for refusing to practice.
You naughty little prodigy.
He felt a hot flush growing behind his ears and leaned forward in his chair, willing his thoughts into submission before a tent formed in his pants.

“Ms. Gallo, I can assure you that I’m up for the job.”
Both literally and figuratively.

“And you can be firm if…well…if she is not always the easiest to manage?”

Kyle smothered a smile. “I can be firm when I need to be. And I understand exactly what you mean about focus. There are always so many annoying details and distractions when you’re traveling and trying to get work done. You just want me to provide a nudge when necessary, and keep her focused when she’s supposed to work.
In the most professional way possible.”

Ms. Gallo looked relieved, nodding.
“Exactly.
Yes, you understand completely. You see, I only want my niece to find success. She has worked so hard—”

She stopped, placing her fingers very carefully over her lips, and for a moment Kyle thought she might cry. But she rallied and waved her arm with a flourish. “She is an amazing musician. She works very hard, and I want to surround her with all the tools of success.”

So Kyle was to be one of those
tools of success
. He could be a tool all right. “I understand, Ms. Gallo. It would be my pleasure to help your client reach her goals. I’m sure Walter has shared my references.”

“Of course.
That was the reason we considered you first. Glowing references, and from Jeremy Gray no less. He says you are professional, dependable,
courteous
.
Discreet.”
The woman looked hard at Kyle. “Of course, professionalism and discretion will be a must. In this situation…”

Her voice died out, but Kyle kept listening.
In this situation…
What situation? Well, these types of highbrow, arty people always got their panties in a twist, thinking their “situations” were somehow more over the top than everyone else’s. Kyle was sure the
situation
was nowhere near as dire as Ms. Gallo seemed to feel. He could control one wayward cellist with a hand tied behind his back. Two hands, probably.

“I’m sure I’ll enjoy working with your niece, and you can count on my professionalism from day one to the last day of service. I actually can’t wait to meet her, Ms. Gallo.”

The woman nodded with a relieved smile and said, “Call me Denise.” Then the signing of contracts began.

* * * * *

A couple weeks later Kyle was packed and ready to go. He’d made arrangements for his apartment and spoken to his family in Texas about his new assignment. He felt strangely excited about the detailed itinerary Walter had sent him, along with a thick folder of legal notices, schedules, and questionnaires about his own travel and dining preferences, assembled by the intrepid-but-absent tour manager Paul. This tour was clearly a big undertaking, something very important he’d become involved with.