Rock My Christmas (FlameSmith in Love Book 1) (6 page)

Chapter Seven

A flight attendant tapped Burn’s leg, waking him. “We’ll be landing in an hour and a half, sir. You should both eat or going through immigration will be rough.”

“Of course.” He gave Kendel a gentle rub on her back. “Get up, gorgeous.”

“Will you be eating here, sir?”

He shook his head, needing his aide’s weight off of his full bladder. They’d slept nine hours. He hoped his feet hadn’t swollen too badly. Last time he’d slept so hard on a long flight, he couldn’t get his shoes on.

“Are we there yet?” Kendel asked, her voice lazy and light. She rubbed her knuckles across her eyelashes then pushed to a sit and slowly blinked.

The attendant offered an indulgent smile then left.

“Nearly. Eat a full meal then use the loo to freshen up. We’ll be on the ground in no time.” He stood, bending to keep the luggage overhead from braining him.

“Where are you going?”

Her shy smile tugged at him, and he forced an exasperated huff to hide how badly he wanted to caress her porcelain cheek. “To have a waz then fill my stomach. See you later.”

Her brow furrowed, but he ignored it as he slid past. He couldn’t let her get comfortable around him. It helped that Marty lifted her eyebrows in his direction. He shot her the bird, and she returned the gesture with a bitchy squint.

Kendel wrapped long, cool fingers around his before he had a chance to head for first class. “Thank you.”

He tried to scowl at her but suspected he failed. “For what?”

“For thinking of me during the turbulence. For caring enough to come and help me. I was really afraid.”

He feigned boredom and shrugged. Heaven help him if she discovered how much her thanks touched him. “I’m going to need you in top form today. Couldn’t have you breaking down.”

A shadow passed over her gaze and she released him. “Well, thank you, anyway.”

He had an urge to kiss her forehead. It startled him so sharply that he jerked. Without a word, he forced his feet away from her. He should’ve let her quit. She’d have stayed behind and vacated before he returned. The more time he spent with her, the more he realized she could cause a great deal of damage.

She came across as genuine and endearing. As much as he wanted to believe it an act, he began to fall for it. The minute he stopped considering her capable of treachery, she would own him. Then he’d be buggered. He couldn’t do it again.

Glad his band mates didn’t witness his return, he moved through the first class cabin and used the restroom at the front. They’d give him shit for spending the flight in coach with his PA.

After washing his face with cold, refreshing water, he sank into the privacy of his walled seat. He gave his meal order to the pretty, middle-aged attendant then propped his feet high. They hadn’t swelled as much as he expected, but they’d cause problems if he couldn’t reduce their size.

Between eating, getting clean, and changing clothes, he managed to stay busy through the last of their flight. To his relief, his feet fit perfectly into his boots.

The pilot announced their descent, and the attendants moved about, stowing loose items in preparation for landing. Burn buckled his restraint, and when his mind went to Kendel, he shoved her aside. He and his mates had a busy day ahead. He had to stay focused.

A high-pitched giggle came from somewhere in first class, and he grimaced. If V brought a scrumpet on this trip, they’d have hotel drama tonight. The lead singer treated women like disposable sex toys. Once he’d had his way, he bored and went hunting for the next one. Any chick who made the mistake of boarding the airplane on his arm would discover she had no place to stay unless she paid for her own room. She’d ride alone in the tail section on their return. V had done it more than once.

They landed smoothly, and he smiled, glad Kendel didn’t have to suffer another fright.

Damn it! She’d won a place in his thoughts. He had to control this and fast.

*    *    *

Marty helped Kendel maneuver through immigration at the airport. The form confused her, but she had nothing to declare, so the officer simply took her picture, stamped her passport, and wrote something in Korean on her form before waving her through.

She admired the stamp in her book. She vowed, “This is the first of many.”

The Goth woman rushed past. “Let’s go! It’s a race to midnight, Blaze.”

Gripping her carry-on, she ran beside Dan’s assistant.

“You’d think they’d never seen someone like me. Every fuckin’ time.”

“What happened?”

They approached the other assistants and crew who jogged, and passed them at an all-out run.

Marty shifted her duffle further onto her back and slowed. Taking a luggage cart by two hands, she breathlessly said, “Made me remove my piercings before they’d take my picture. For a second, I thought they were going to pull me aside. First time I came here, they did that. The tour manager had to come and personally rescue me. That sucked.”

They jogged through an enormous baggage claim area, passing ten carousels, and Kendel began to break a sweat. “How do you know where to go?”

“Private flight.” She parked the cart and pointed to a sign written in both Korean and English. “Put your carry-on on the cart and get Burn’s stuff.”

She collapsed her bag’s handle then laid it next to the duffle. One of Burn’s huge black suitcases lumbered around the carousel’s rounded end, and she heaved it off. Her back muscles protested, and pain shot into her shoulders. “Good Lord! What’s he got in here?”

“None of our business.” Marty grunted as she hauled one of Dan’s silver cases onto the cart.

Kendel caught the handle of Burn’s second bag and leaned backward to drag it off the carousel. She somehow powered his luggage onto the cart while the other assistant fetched the remaining suitcase. She helped her load it as the rest of their group arrived.

“Come on.” Marty shoved the cart toward the nearby airport exit.

“We’re going to the hotel?”

“Yeah.”

Outside, organized chaos reigned. Flurries dusted the air, but nobody seemed to notice the chill. A bus ticket office had lines. Buses parked at angles as far as she could see. At the platform’s end, transport vans and taxis loaded another line of luggage-laden passengers.

Marty didn’t head for a line, however. She started onto a crosswalk as though oblivious to the buses and cars streaming along the multiple lanes. Kendel took hold of the other side of the cart and helped her push it across.

On the other side, a hill led to a number of international hotels she recognized. She removed her band jacket, despite the chill. “Convenient to put the hotels in walking distance.”

“Ha! We’ll see if you think it’s so convenient after we get this beast to the top of the hill.”

She tossed the jacket onto one of Burn’s suitcases then helped push the cart up a sidewalk. By the time they reached the crest, she fought for breath and her heart pounded as if she’d run a mile. Her aching thighs promised soreness later. Great.

“Still think it’s convenient?”

She wiped a tickle of sweat from her temple. “Where are the guys, anyway?”

“Working, like us. Didn’t you get a copy of the itinerary?” The woman cast her an irritated glance.

“Burn sent it to my phone, but I’ve been busy.”

Marty pointed the cart toward the second hotel’s main entrance. “This is your
job
.”

“You’re right. There’s no excuse.” She panted.

She’d been in Korea an hour, and already she’d had a workout. Marty hadn’t kidded when she said they’d hit the ground running. This place was going to either tone her body or kill her.

A doorman stopped them, and in Korean and gestures, made it clear they couldn’t take the airport cart inside. A bellhop came and transferred their bags to a hotel cart then accompanied them inside.

A Christmas tree, lit and decorated, dominated a wall in the huge entryway. The place dripped luxury in rich wood and marble décor. A bank of clerks welcomed guests along a desk at the rear, and the buzz of conversation spilled from restaurants on the left.

Receptionists spoke English, and Kendel quickly discovered the record label had purchased a block of rooms for them. She had them swipe Burn’s card for incidentals then accepted two room keys.

When Marty headed for the exit, Kendel hesitated. “We’re not going to the rooms with the luggage?”

“No time.” Dan’s assistant didn’t wait, but went outside without her.

Her heart still racing, Kendel managed to communicate to the bellhop which rooms to place each suitcase. She spent a few seconds rummaging through Burn’s bags until she found the chocolate. He’d brought the milk chocolate. Smiling, she opened the package and put a few pieces in her jacket pocket. Instinct told her he might want some, and she planned to be as prepared as an inexperienced, know-nothing American in Korea could be.

Her hand brushed against something fuzzy as she shoved a protruding pair of jeans back inside the case. She pulled it out and grinned. A stuffed toy lion. Scary, edgy, rock-star Burn had a stuffed animal. She returned it and zipped the suitcase then waved her thanks to the bellhop.

She didn’t have any Korean money, so she offered him a five-dollar bill. He glanced at it then at her before shaking his head and heading for a bank of elevators. Had she offended him? She lunged to grab her jacket off the retreating cart then spun on her heel and raced for the door.

Outside, Marty waved wildly then climbed into a cab. Kendel pushed through a glass door and joined her. “Where to now?”

“The arena. You want to be the best assistant?”

“I do, actually.” She needed to show Burn he could rely on her.

“You have to learn to anticipate his needs. Learn what he likes and make it available. Be where he’s going before he gets there.”

The taxi reached the hill’s base and had to wait while the rest of their group crossed.

“And don’t be lazy like that bunch. They do as little as they think they can get away with.”

Kendel nodded to one, not liking the girl’s too-confident air. “Who’s the trashy-looking blonde?”

“That’s Justina. She’s a groupie. Probably came with V. He likes to keep a piece of ass at hand, but never does the same girl twice. Justina gets around it by never putting out. She’ll do anything but spread her legs.”

Disgusted, Kendel averted her eye from the tramp. “I feel bad for V’s assistant.”

“Tell me about it.” Marty settled back and fastened her seatbelt as the taxi entered heavy airport traffic. “He’s hardly more than a pimp. You’re going to want to buckle up. These Korean drivers push the boundaries of sanity.”

She fastened her restraint. “Do you think we could make time to stop at an exchange bank? I don’t have any Korean cash. What’s Korean money called?”

Marty shrugged. “I just use Dan’s credit card for everything.”

“Won,” said the driver, glancing at her in his rearview mirror.

“Won,” she repeated.

“Yes,” he said succinctly. “There is Korean exchange bank on way. You want stop?”

“Please.” She offered him a smile.

He didn’t return her smile but gave the road his attention as he merged onto a highway. A sign told drivers they could reach Seoul in forty-five kilometers.

“Wait a second,” she said to Dan’s assistant. “I thought we were in Seoul.”

“God knows, woman. Would you please read your itinerary?” Marty’s eyes went wild.

“Don’t have a stroke. Fine.” Kendel pulled her phone from her jeans’ front pocket and turned it on. Immediately it began roaming. She didn’t want to contemplate what her bill would cost if she spent two days roaming overseas. It’d probably bankrupt her.

She navigated to her cellular settings and switched off her data roaming. Accessing her archived emails, she located Burn’s message and read it. Incheon. They’d flown into the Incheon airport. The band currently recorded an interview for a late night talk show. They’d lunch at the studio then arrive at the arena for a sound check and mass media photo session.

The driver parked at a curb in front of a bank, and she hurried inside. She reached for a number tag, but a clerk wearing reindeer antlers and a friendly smile waved her to an available window. Keeping a twenty-dollar bill, she exchanged fifty then folded the money into the pocket that held her phone.

“Meddi Kudismas,” said the clerk with a bow.

Kendel hesitated until the sounds sunk in. She grinned. “Merry Christmas.”

In minutes, the driver whipped them through bustling traffic, narrowly missing trucks and buses. Even Marty squealed in fright at one point. When they arrived in front of the stadium, Kendel’s stomach fluttered.

Why? Because she would learn how to work a concert? No.