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- Chapter Three -

Amina

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“Istill can't believeyou're leaving so soon,” Korine said, parking her car in front of the curb. The departure section of the airport was quiet. Midday on a Tuesday was not exactly the high time for travel.

I'd asked Korine to drop me off since I neither owned a car or could afford an Uber. “Violet offered to fly me out there, how could I say no to an all expenses trip to LA?” I asked, smiling.

“Violet.” She rolled her eyes. “That's the vice president, right? I wonder if she'll play quarterback, keeping you from meeting Mister Big Shot himself.”

Mister Big Shot. She means Bach Devine.After the phone call with Violet, Korine had fluctuated between cheering for me and frantically researching Beats and Blast online. She'd gasped at the news about the founder passing away a few months back. I’d been less shocked. I knew Laurence had died, I’d been a fan of his music since I was small. But I didn’t know he’d owned Beats and Blast.

Korine’s sadness didn’t last long. She took one look at the photos of the new CEO and begun swooning. I'd swooned a little, too.

Bach looked like the kind of action hero who'd slam a motorcycle through a building's windows, rescue a woman in a bikini with one arm, all while flipping the bird at the cops chasing him.

I knew his type uncomfortably well: the quintessential bad boy who liked to play the field. He wa the kind of guy I found myself falling for again... and again... and again, even with Korine working her hardest to keep me from making the same mistakes.

I had a type. I knew I had a type.

But I also had a goal, and as hot as he was, Bach Devine wasn't going to be another Murdoch. No more bad boys or play boys oranykind of boys for me. Dating had to be on hold until I got both my feet planted on the path towards my dreams.

Still, I enjoyed a private thrill at the memory of Bach’s handsome face looking back at me from the paparazzi photos online. The idea of meeting him in person was intimidating. I hoped Korine was right about the VP keeping me away from Bach; avoiding the guy would be easier on my heart.

A car honked behind us and one of the airport security guards motioned impatiently at Korine. “This is it,” I said, gripping my suitcase. I blew out a quick puff of air. “Thanks for covering my shifts for me, Korine. It’s good to know I have a fallback plan if Beats turns me down.”

“Shush,” she said, pulling me in for a fierce hug. “You won't be working at Caffeline ever again, trust me.No onecan say no to you, Amina.” Her eyes twinkled. “I bet a lot of singers have to kill themselves just to get noticed, and you did it accidentally.”

I smiled until my eyes watered. “I love your optimism.” With one more hug, I stepped onto the sidewalk. Korine waved at me, shouting as she drove off. “Don’t you dare forget me, Miss Famous!”

Laughing, I shouted back, “I won't!”

Filling my chest with my last taste of Portland air, I hoisted my suitcase and headed towards the airport’s sliding doors. One of the men who'd been waiting by the curbside luggage drop-off chuckled at me. “Famous, huh? You someone I should know?” he asked.

Blushing, I kept walking. “Sorry, no, my friend was just being silly.”