“But there might be. We won’t know until we look.”
He chuckled. “I suppose you’re right.”
She peered around Derek’s waist at Jo. “Who’s that?”
“Annie, I told you not to run so far ahead.” An exhausted-looking woman in high-waisted, tailored jeans and a designer sweater emerged from the crowd, a pink PrincessPeach backpack slung over her shoulder and a small rolling suitcase dragging behind her. Even tired and annoyed, she was gorgeous.
“Hey, sugar.” Derek reached for the bags and dropped a kiss on the woman’s cheek. “How’s your mom?”
“Still in critical condition, but she’s stable. Thank you for this. I know it’s not ideal.” Chelsea adjusted her tortoise-shell glasses and spoke matter-of-factly as she handed off the backpack. The tiny pink bag looked ridiculous hanging from Derek’s broad shoulder.
“We’ll make it work. Won’t we, peanut?”
His daughter had yet to loosen her grip on his waist despite keeping her gaze locked on Jo. The wary expression was so like her father’s that Jo had to stifle a laugh.
“I asked my assistant to send over the names of some reputable nannying agencies in the San Diego area—” Chelsea began.
“No need.”
“Derek, you can’t bring her to all the band’s events this week. I know she likes tagging along, and I know the guys are great with her, but they also have a job to do. You’re going to need someone to watch her.”
“That’s why Jo is coming with us.”
Chelsea frowned. “Jo?”
Jo lost the staring contest with Annie to turn her attention to the stunning ex-wife of the man she’d slept with the night before. Not that she was thinking about that. She was too busy being professional.
“Joelle Baker.” She stepped forward and extended her hand towards Chelsea. “Annie and I are going to have an awesome time together. I have excellent references. I’d be happy to send them to your assistant if you’d like.”
Chelsea shook Jo’s hand as she eyed her, assessing. Jo could practically hear the litany of objections running through her head as she took in Jo’s leggings and cropped t-shirt, the thin purple zip-up she’d thrown on at the last minute. Jo hadn’t had time to fix her makeup properly, not the way she would have liked to, and what she’d managed to do in the car wasn’t good enough for this kind of scrutiny. Without the armor of her eyeliner and contour, she might as well have been naked.
To her credit, Chelsea kept any criticism to herself.
“I’m sure Derek has done his due diligence,” she said, shooting him a meaningful glance. Then, pulling their daughter into a hug, “Have so much fun this week. Call me every night and take lots of pictures to show me, okay?”
Annie and Derek said their goodbyes and they all made it through security with minimal frustration once the TSA agent realized the oddly shaped metal object in Annie’s backpack was a mini metal detector.
If they hadn’t been sure which gate was theirs, the crowd of women in their thirties jostling for position around Jackson, Zach, and Nico would have given it away. At the edge of the mob, Logan and Beckett were deep in conversation with a group of fans, one of whom clutched a copy of the same romance novel by AK Wild that Beckett was holding. Jo focused her phone on the interaction, zooming in andsnapping a quick shot of the boys animatedly discussing dragon shifters with their fans. She added a gif of a dragon flying across the image before posting it, tagging the band and the author.
“Did you—” Derek broke off, pointing between the band and Jo’s phone.
Jo shrugged. “Logan and Beckett asked me to post some of my pictures after their first show at the Bay Breeze. I’ve been doing it ever since.”
“You have?”
“Someone has to post authentic content. Have you seen their official pages? It’s all staged photos and overly designed graphics.”
“As opposed to...”
"Literally anything else. The trick is to make it feel like your followers have unfiltered access. And these guys don’t need an hour in hair and makeup. With a few filters,” she said as she tapped on her phone, flipping the screen around so he could see, “you can have airbrushed perfection and the bedhead look all in one delicious package.” She sighed, glancing at the image before darkening her screen and tucking her phone back into her purse. “What I wouldn’t give for Nico’s flawless skin.”
Derek looked like he wanted to say something, but Annie pulled his attention away from whatever concerns he had about Jo’s social media posts and the band’s impromptu book club. “Daddy, why is Jackson writing on that lady’s belly?”
“That’s a good question,” he said. At the other side of the crowd, Jackson was indeed signing a woman’s stomach alongthe waistband of her jeans. “Jackson,” he barked.
The pop star bolted upright. “Just greeting the fans, bossman.”
“Is that Princess Annie?” Nico called out with a wide grin. He made his way around the group of fans to scoop Annie up and spin her around. “Are you coming with us to California?”