Read Songbird for Free Online

again.
    Max gave me a once over after Arc disappeared
and smiled when he reached my feet. “Nice shoes. Ezra told us to
leave everything in your capable hands.”
    “These hands are the path to timely
success.”
    “I wouldn’t trademark that slogan yet.
Nicholas isn’t here.” Max stepped passed me and onto the bus which
meant the one remaining had to be Guy, the bassist.
    “Could you perform oral surgery when we get
back?” I shouted over to him. I heard laughter from the bus and
couldn’t exactly tell what the guys were laughing at.
    Arc’s head stuck out of a window, “Guylan,
let’s go, man. She’ll be here when we get back.”
    “Has hell frozen over and Nick is actually on
the bus?” Guy shot back though he did pull away, grab his bag and
come toward the bus.
    Well this was a problem. They all apparently
thought or knew Nicholas wasn’t going to show up on time. Ezra had
warned me, but I had sent a text—okay ten of them—yesterday and he
had replied that he would be on time. Son of a bitch. He was not
going to ruin my schedule.
    I marched back into the bus grabbed my purse
and my phone. “Doug, call me if Nicholas miraculously shows up.” I
blew past Guy as I dialed the number Ezra had put into my phone. I
hissed when the answering machine picked up and climbed into my
car. He was not going to start this tour on a bad leg. I refused to
let that happen.

    If I hadn’t been so irritated, I might have
noticed the time and skill put into the wrought iron gate. I might
have noticed the pretty landscaping that accented the very elegant
Georgian style mansion. If I weren’t pissed.
    I knocked and waited. Then checked my watch
and knocked again. The third time I knocked hard and made sure to
vibrate the wood. The butlerish housekeeper Nick employed should
answer the door, even if the temperamental singer had already
left.
    The man who opened the door was young, though
older than me by a handful of years, stared at me. “Yes?”
    “I’m the Tour Manager, Bianca Sheridan.” I
pushed past him and studied the suitcases in the foyer. “These are
for the tour?”
    “Yes. Why exactly are you here?”
    “I’m also filling the role as Mr. Walker’s
assistant for the time being. He’s running late.” I looked at the
butler fully. “What’s your name?”
    “I’m Shamus.” The butler smiled. “Late is his
MO.”
    “Not today.” I tossed my keys at the guy.
“Can you get his bags in my trunk please? I’ve got to go get Mr.
Walker. His room is upstairs?”
    “Yes, he has a guest.”
    “Call a cab when you get back in and escort
her out.”
    “Yes, ma’am.” He shook his head slowly and
gave a quiet laugh. “Good luck.”
    “Bianca is fine.” I hurried up the stairs and
picked up the trail of female clothes on the way. Interesting to
note I didn’t see any of Nicholas’s clothes in the trail. The fact
sort of gave me the impression of an in and out kind of guy. Since
no one watched, I rolled my eyes then rapped twice on the open
bedroom door.
    “Mr. Walker?” Walking in I continued picking
up clothes—even I didn’t wear this many layers—and stood next to
the bed. Nicholas was half under the covers and snoring lightly.
Lovely.
    “Mr. Walker.” A little frustrated I nudged
the bed with a foot, no way was I going to put a hand on it with
his reputation, and he didn’t budge.
    The female groaned softly from her prone
position next to him and rolled to face me. “Who are you?”
    “Mr. Walker’s assistant. Get up and get
dressed. A taxi has been called.”
    She yawned. “He said he didn’t have to leave
until noon.”
    I could have ground my teeth to powder. “So
I’m here, in his house before eight in the morning because he’s
early? Get up. Put your clothes on.” I handed them over to her. She
huffed, climbed out of bed and slammed the bathroom door behind
her. The shower clicked on moments later.
    “Mr. Walker.” I leaned over and with a hand
on his bare shoulder shook