left is the fiddly last-minute stuff. And I’m sure we can find someone to handle that, if you don’t want to. Rose and Will would understand. I’ll call up an agency or something.’
Agency staff. Another stranger in their home all the time, taking responsibility for the biggest concert in The Screaming Lemons’ calendar. Someone who had absolutely no reason to care if things went perfectly or just well enough to get paid.
Violet risked a glance at Tom. She could almost read the story writing itself behind his tired eyes. Thoughtless wild child celebrity daughter disappears on eve of major charity event after whirlwind romance, leaving benefit concert in chaos. Sex Tape Twin decides she’d rather pick flowers than take on the job.
Almost as bad a start as her scene in the coffee shop.
‘No. I can do it. We don’t need to call the agency. I’ll take care of the concert. I’ve seen Rose do it, and I’m sure she’s left really good notes. I can do it. I’d like to.’
A complete lie. The last thing she wanted to do, when she should be keeping an eye on Tom, was take on a high profile project that would put her in the public eye and require speaking to all the people she’d been happily avoiding for eight years. But sometimes proving a point—especially to someone like Tom Buckley—required sacrifice.
‘Are you sure, darling?’ Her mother’s perfect face crinkled up into a frown. ‘It doesn’t really seem like...well, like your sort of thing.’
Of course it didn’t. As much as she might have moaned about her parents calling Rose in to organise their wedding, she knew exactly why they’d done it. To spare Violet the misery of having to brave the public and the publicity again. It was bad enough doing so as a guest at endless charity functions, or just appearing at the benefit concert. Anywhere there were cameras, her nerves started to tremble. And this...this would mean liaising with pop stars, working with celebrities.
There were going to be a lot of cameras. Her fingers felt shaky just thinking about it.
‘I’m sure,’ she said as firmly as she could. ‘The Benefit Concert is important. I want to make sure everything goes just as well as it would if Rose was here.’
Maybe she could just pretend to be Rose. Maybe no one would notice that she was actually the other twin. You know the one.
‘Well, honey, if you’re sure.’ Rick’s forehead had matching creases. Then he broke into a smile and clapped Tom on the back. ‘Hey, maybe Tom here can give you a hand!’
TOM COULDN’T BE sure if it was the sleep deprivation or if he really was missing something in the conversation going on around him. It felt as if there were actually two discussions taking place—one with words and one entirely conducted through concerned eyebrow gestures.
Still, he was pretty sure he didn’t stand a chance of understanding the eyebrow conversation until he got some actual sleep. In fact, he was just plotting the best way to get shown to his room when Rick volunteered him.
‘Me?’ Tom wished that had come out slightly less squeakily. ‘Help with the Benefit Concert?’
Sherry clapped her hands together. ‘What a brilliant idea! I knew I married you for a reason.’ She planted another kiss on her husband.
Violet, Tom noticed, hadn’t responded at all. In fact, she looked as though she’d been sent into a state of severe shock and might need therapy to even deal with the idea.
God, he just had the best way with women, didn’t he?
‘Unless...Violet, darling, are you sure you really want to do this?’ Sherry’s eyebrows were doing the very concerned thing again, mirrored by Rick’s. Yeah, Tom was definitely missing something here.
But Violet shook off the shock, smiled widely and said, ‘Of course I do! And I’d appreciate any help that Tom is able to give me, in between the work he’s actually here to do.’ She even managed a sincere smile for him as she spoke, which Tom thought might be a first.
‘Well, that’s settled then.’ Rick clapped his hands together, but his eyebrows suggested that nothing was settled at all. Tom suspected there’d be some private family conversations going on once he’d finally found a bed to fall into.
Well, so be it. Despite Sherry’s enthusiastic welcome, he wasn’t actually family. He didn’t need to know all their tiny moments and their every word. He just wanted the stories. And, he’d admit it, the secrets. They were what would set his book apart from everything else ever written about Rick Cross and co.
And he was pretty sure he’d get them. Starting tomorrow.
‘Guys, if I’m going to be ready to start interviews, write a book and organise the best concert in the history of benefit concerts, I’d better get some sleep.’ Tom gave them all his friendliest all-in-this-together smile.
‘Oh, of course!’ Sherry immediately went into hostess mode, something Tom imagined she had honed and perfected over years of events, guests and parties. ‘Violet, why don’t you show Tom to his room, darling?’
Violet’s smile was starting to look a little fixed, but no one except Tom seemed to notice. ‘Of course. I might turn in myself.’ She kissed her parents on their cheeks. ‘It was a brilliant day. Here’s to many more happy years of marriage.’
Tom followed Violet away from the stage, across the gardens. The party had obviously started to wind down after the Lemons had left the stage. The fairy lights in the trees shone down on abandoned glasses and plates and grass-stained marquee floors. A few stragglers still loitered by the temporary bar, where the last remaining barmaid yawned expansively, but most people had already headed home to bed.
Tom applauded their sensible natures. Of course, it was gone 4:00 a.m., so maybe they weren’t that sensible.
Glancing over his shoulder, Tom saw Rick and Sherry making their way across to where the rest of the band sat with their partners or friends under the moonlight. Jez was strumming an acoustic guitar and laughter and conversation floated among the notes in the night air.
‘I don’t know how they’re still going,’ Violet said, following his gaze. ‘I’m knackered. But they’re always the last ones standing at a party. I think it’s a point of pride these days. And they always finish the night together, just the gang of them who’ve been there from the start.’
He should be over there, soaking up the moment. Taking in the atmosphere that would make his book authentic. Except...it was a private moment and he was new on the scene. He couldn’t force his way into that close-knit group. He had to earn his place, and that would take time and trust.
Violet was giving him an odd considering look. ‘You still want to go to bed?’ A slight flush of colour hit her cheeks in the pale lights, and he knew somehow that she was waiting for him to make a joke about whether that was an offer to join him. So he didn’t.
‘Alone, I mean. Not with me,’ Violet babbled, as if he had. She must get that a lot, although he’d expected her to just brush it off or turn it back on the joker to embarrass them. After her display in the airport café, he knew she had the confidence and the fire.
Except...here,
