Page 95

“I don’t like this,” Francine hissed. “Let’s get inside.”

“What woman?” Mack asked, overhearing the conversation.

Francine pushed Alex and Morgan forward. “I’ll explain inside.”

Chapter Forty-Eight

Press interviews had been switched to the hotel, something Alex wasn’t comfortable with but had accepted as necessary for now. Mack wasn’t taking any chances and didn’t see the point in moving her around when they could have the press come to them, and it was a battle that Alex wasn’t going to fight. A smaller room on the lower level had been acquired by Francine, the hotel manager only too happy to help.

“So…” The reporter scratched his head, and Alex understood how his hair had become so ruffled to begin with. “The incident in Scotland—”

Alex smiled before butting in. “A prank, obviously someone thought it would be funny. It wasn’t of course, but we’ve moved past that.”

“Oh, only from my conversations with the police up there. They seem to be taking it quite seriously.”

“Well, they would. It’s a place of importance, nobody wants to imagine that anyone could potentially cause real issues for them.” Alex’s smile remained relaxed. “But the idea that it was something aimed at me personally, and there have been no threats or communications to suggest an ongoing issue.” A small white lie to omit the note they found wouldn’t hurt, she supposed.

“Indeed.” That seemed to halt him any further on that subject. “So, this new piece you’ve ended with recently, are we to expect a new album anytime soon?”

Alex grinned, hearing “Euphoria” play in her head, with images of Morgan tantalising her moving alongside every note. “Yes, you can expect one. I’m still in the process of composing but it’s taken a while to feel so inspired and I’ll be looking for the right team to produce and record it.”

“Quite.” He coughed and cleared his throat. “And rumours of a new love interest?”

“I am exploring that too, yes,” she confirmed, an agreed statement to move the questions away from the Edinburgh event.

Now he grinned, imagining he had the scoop. “Well, that is wonderful to hear.” He leaned forward. “Can we expect another appearance tonight?”

“Right now, I’d like for her to continue to enjoy not being part of the circus that is my life.”

He smiled at that, but added, “She’s younger than you, isn’t she?”

“Is she? Would you ask me that if I were a man?” He didn’t answer. “I didn’t think so.”

“I think that’s enough for today. Thank you all for coming,” Francine said, cutting off any further conversation regarding Morgan. “If those of you with booked interviews want to hang around, Sasha will get to you in due course. In the meantime, we’ll take a little break, okay?”

Mumbles and grumbles echoed around the room as those not invited to stay longer got up and shuffled out of the room. Alex stretched out and then got up, her ankle now completely healed.

“I’m going to head into the bar for ten minutes and get a coffee,” she said to Francine.

“Sure.”

The bodyguard in a suit followed her, hanging back just enough that he wasn’t quite so invasive, which she was at least grateful for. The bar wasn’t that busy. A couple of journalists had snuck in and were ordering lunch, but mostly it was travellers and businesspeople going about their day.

“What can I get you?” asked the barman when she strolled up.

“I’m hoping a pot of tea,” she asked with a smile.

“Of course, Breakfast or Earl Grey?”

There was no need to consider that question. “Breakfast, thank you. Can you put it on my room tab?”

“Absolutely, grab a seat and I’ll bring it over.”

She turned and looked for a vacant table. That was when she spotted her, at a table in the corner, staring over at her.

“For fuck’s sake,” Alex muttered under her breath as she took off and strode halfway across the room before the suit had a chance to catch up. “Laurel.”

As though she had expected to see her, Laurel just smiled at her.