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Chapter Two

M yst worked incredibly hard on stage, George thought as he sat in the stands watching.

She didn’t do much of the choreographed dancing he saw some singers do, but she was constantly on the move, engaging with the audience, running all over the stage.

Her music was vocals-heavy, making the most of that astonishing, powerful voice.

She took two quick breaks for fast outfit changes, and he suspected that was more because she was literally soaked in sweat than just for aesthetics.

“Coming back with us, George?” the team-mate on his left leaned in to ask as Myst finally left the stage and the audience gave one last round of thunderous applause.

He shook his head. “No, thanks, I’ll make my own way back. Got someone I want to see.”

He slipped away from the group as they made their way out, ducking his head to disguise his height and lose himself in the chattering, surging crowd, pulling out the lanyard he’d tucked inside his shirt so the others wouldn’t see.

Two minutes later he was slipping back into Myst’s dressing-room, and a minute after that the door clicked shut and he turned from staring at the rack of glittering stage costumes to see her smiling at him.

“That was incredible,” he said, and she laughed, obviously on an adrenaline high.

“What a great crowd!” Grabbing a towel lying over the back of a chair, she started blotting at her damp, sweaty face with it, checking in the mirror to ensure her makeup was still intact, or so he assumed.

“Grab a chair, if you like. I’ve really only got a few minutes before the record company executives start knocking on the door. ”

“I know.” He’d already figured that, just like him after a match when the media and sponsors and VIP ticket holders were baying to talk to him, Myst’s time after a concert wouldn’t be her own. “I wish I didn’t have to go, but I do, and we’re flying to Edinburgh in the morning.”

“Yes, I’m off to Manchester myself.” Her eyes met his in the mirror, eyes the pale blue of a winter sky, startling in their brightness. “I looked at your schedule. We’ll be in London at the same time, in two weeks.”

“We are?” He felt hope surge in his chest. “I have limited free time, though.”

“So do I.” Myst turned to face him as she discarded the towel, her smile rueful. “Here’s the thing, though. The timing’s never going to be good for us. Is it?”

“No.” He felt something inside him break. “You’re saying there’s no point in trying, right?”

“No!” She took a step forward, reaching out towards him.

“I’m saying that if we’re going to try, we need to accept right from the outset that it’ll never be easy.

I probably get to dictate my schedule a little more than you do because I can play the diva card sometimes, because without me, there’s no show; but we both have commitments, things we can’t change or delay no matter what our personal preferences might be. ”

She understood . A flood of relief washed over George and he nodded gratefully. “I want to,” he said, trying to encompass everything he wanted in a few simple words. “I want to try and make it work.”

“So do I, but before we even commit to trying, can we make a couple of really simple rules? If you decide you don’t want to try any more, I want to be the first to know.

I don’t want to go online one day and discover you’ve blocked me on social media, or wake up to photos of you with someone else in the tabloid press. ”

“I think you’re more likely to be a tabloid target than I am,” George pointed out.

“True, unfortunately. I’ve already been featured on CelebNation supposedly dating at least three different men I’ve never even met.“ She made a face. “Don’t believe anything you read on that website.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever heard of it,” he admitted.

“Probably for the best.” She tilted her head a little, those winter-sky eyes studying his face. “So, do we have a deal? Anything real happens, either of us decide we don’t want to try this any more, we’re honest about it, upfront?”

“Absolutely.” He held his hand out to shake, and when she put hers in it, said “I wasn’t looking for you. I’m definitely not looking for anyone else.”

Her smile filled the room with sunshine. “Me neither.”

“Myst!” A bang on the door interrupted them.

Myst grimaced. “I’m so sorry, but I have to go. Can you stay a little while?”

“I could, but it might raise some questions we’re not ready to answer.”

She shrugged, her smile reappearing. “Not really. We’re both high-profile Australians in Dublin. It’s not totally outside the realm of possibility that we’re already acquainted, that you came along to the concert to show your support after I sang the anthem yesterday… that we’re friends.”

“That’s all very plausible, or it would be if I didn’t think I’ll do a really crappy job of looking at you in a merely platonically friendly way.” George spread his hands ruefully, and Myst laughed.

“Me, too. I want to spend all night just staring, soaking you in. Taking in every detail of your face, your expressions.” Reaching out, she linked her fingers with his briefly, squeezed. “We’ll have time. We’ll make time, right? In London?”

“London,” he promised.

“Myst, seriously!” The banging on the door resumed, and Myst groaned, letting go of his hand.

“I’m sorry…”

“You don’t have to be. If we’re going to work on this thing, there’ll be times when it’s my turn to say I’m sorry because there’s something I have to do which I have no choice about.”

“You get it.” Her expression was relieved as she gazed up at him. “You really do get it.”

“I really do.” He stroked his thumb over the backs of her fingers lightly. “I can’t promise I’ll never feel mad and frustrated because stuff happens and we can’t see each other, but I can promise I’ll never blame you for it.”

“And I’ll promise the same.”

“ Myst! ”

“I’m coming!” she called in response to the frantic screech, and George let go of her hand.

“Go,” he told her. “I’ll wait a bit before following you.”

“Thank you!” She hurried to the door, looking back over her shoulder to flash him another heart-stopping smile, and he stood with his hand over his heart for several moments. He had the curious sensation of waking up from a dream, as though she hadn’t quite been real.

The door opened again to reveal a different young woman standing there; the one who’d escorted him to Myst’s dressing room.

Jessie, he thought her name was, and looking at her closely now, he wondered if she and Myst were related.

Jessie had the same pale blue eyes, the same waifish build, though she was a couple of inches taller, and her dark hair was cut in an edgy pixie style with a bright blue stripe in the front.

Jessie folded her arms and stared at him, taking him in. George had the uneasy feeling that he was being weighed and measured, and quite possibly found wanting.

“She’s safe with me. I promise,” he said.

“Physically, I believe you.” Jessie nodded, still watching him intently. “Her heart? Not so sure. I’ve never seen her like this with anyone, and I’ve known her all her life.”

“Are you her sister?”

“Cousin.” Jessie’s smile was a brief thing, sharper and more cynical than Myst’s. “She’s three years younger. My earliest memories are of listening to her singing and playing the piano.”

“I’m glad she has someone to watch out for her who’s not just here for the money,” George said sincerely. “Who’s here because they love her.”

Jessie seemed to soften a little bit at his words. “I do love her, and trust me, if you break her heart I’ll destroy you.”

“I’m not planning on it. I’m not a player; I really wasn’t in the market for any kind of relationship, but when I saw her yesterday it was like someone flipped a switch. I had to meet her.”

“She said pretty much the same thing about you,” Jessie noted wryly.

“Well, if we’re doing this thing, you’d better give me a phone number where I can contact you direct.

That PA Zoe’s very nice, but we need to keep this as tightly held as possible if you don’t want the paps breathing down your neck. ”

George recited his phone number and saved the one she gave him in return. He also offered up a private email address he used on a messaging app, strictly with close friends and family.

“Gotcha.” Jessie entered it into her phone. “I’ll pass that on to Myst, and I’ll be in touch once we get to London, figure out a time when she can meet with you.”

“I’d like that. Thank you.”

She looked up from her phone to meet his gaze, nodded crisply.

“There’s a car waiting at the stage door for you, to take you back to your hotel.

Don’t thank me, thank Zoe,” she added when he began to thank her again.

“I’d take her into your confidence, if I were you, swear her to secrecy.

You’ll need at least one person in your camp who can cover for you and she seems both competent and capable of maintaining confidentiality. ”

“I’ll think about it,” George said. “She’s employed by the team management, rather than me, so if management asked her a question, I’m not sure if she would cover for me.”

“Hm. Maybe a team-mate you trust, then?” Jessie shrugged as though to say, your problem not mine .

“I’ll think about it,” George said again, but he knew she was right.

He did need somebody on his side who’d back up his cover story, because otherwise the gossip network would kick in real fast, and there were actual journalists travelling with the team, staying in the same hotels.

They were sports journalists, true, but some of them at least would have links with social and gossip correspondents, and the Australian team captain dating a pop princess was too juicy a tidbit to keep quiet.

He made it back to the team hotel with just a few minutes to spare before midnight, slipped into the lobby with a cheerful good evening from the assistant coach who was ticking off everyone as being present.

“Enjoy the concert, George?” the coach asked.

“Loved it. She was great, a real star performer. I’d love to go again sometime,” he said, hoping he was planting a seed when the coach smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, all the others have been saying they enjoyed it. G’night.”

His phone vibrated in his pocket as he reached his room; slipping it out, he smiled to see a message from Myst had popped up.

I’m sorry I didn’t have more time to spend with you tonight, I’d have loved to talk to you more.

Me too, George typed back. Tell me something.

Something?

Something about you not everybody knows. I’ll go first, if you like. I’m the youngest of five and the others are all girls. I have eleven nieces and nephews and I’m That Doting Uncle who does stupid stuff like buy them drum kits.

LOL! OK then. This is a deep, dark secret so you must never share it with anyone, but my real name is Joanna Jones.

I see why you took a stage name. Myst suits you better. Joanna Jones is ordinary and you’re anything but.

That means so much more coming from you than all the asskissers I had to deal with fawning over me tonight. Thank you.

They chatted for hours, discovering any number of things they had in common.

They’d lived in the same suburb of Sydney as kids, though attended different schools.

Myst was five years younger than George, but they still found a few shared acquaintances, favourite cafes and places they liked to visit.

It wasn’t until the first grey light of dawn began to filter past the blinds over the hotel room’s curtains that George looked at the time and realised to his horror that they’d been texting all night.

OMG. I should go. I’ve got to be on a bus to the airport in 2 hours.

Holy wow look at the time! I’m sorry. So hopped up on adrenaline I couldn’t sleep, and I’ve kept you up all night .

He smiled, reading that. I never noticed the time, enjoying chatting to you too much.

Me too. Hope you get some time today to nap. I’m not flying until tonight.

I’ll be fine. Safe travels, I’ll talk to you later.

A knock on his door made George start and drop the phone on the bed beside him. “Yes?” he called.

“Breakfast in thirty,” a voice called. “Look lively!”

“I’m moving.” He pushed himself off the bed with a sigh, heading for the shower.

He should be exhausted after being awake all night, but he didn’t feel too bad.

It’d probably hit him later, which at least would be a good excuse to go to bed early and would make team management happy that he was setting a good example.

Emerging from the shower, he found there was one more message on his app.

Looking forward to talking again soon.

He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face.