Pop glared back and Connor refocused his attention on Phillip.
“The danger to Lyric is more specific,” Phillip admitted.
And Connor hadn’t thought this could get worse. “Care to explain what you mean by that?”
“We’ve received what we believe to be credible threats. I pay a team a hell of a lot of money to discern whether a threat is merely someone mouthing off and wanting attention or whether it’s something we need to pursue.
“Mostly it’s the former and we nip it in the bud. People aren’t terribly smart and the trail back to them is usually easy to follow.”
“You’re getting threats you can’t trace back to an identifiable source.”
Phillip nodded. “Exactly. What concerns me is that whoever is doing them is delivering them in person. It started five shows ago and he’s followed her from city to city.”
Connor raised an eyebrow. “He?”
“We assume it’s a he.”
“An obsessed fan?”
Phillip frowned. “I’m not sure. Typically when you have some fan who’s obsessed or fancies themselves in love with a star, there’s a courting stage and then anger because their feelings aren’t acknowledged or reciprocated. This . . . this is just plain weird and unsettling.”
“Tell me.”
“He always leaves a note. Where varies. Once, it was taped to the bus. Once, it was on her guitar case. Another time it was in her dressing room.”
“No wonder you fired her security,” Connor muttered. “No one should be getting that close to her.”
Phillip nodded. “One of the many reasons. I also couldn’t be certain it wasn’t one of them. I got rid of everyone I had the power to fire. Unfortunately, Pete and Repete, her two pet bodyguards, are hers. She hired them. But I want you to keep an eye on them. I don’t trust them.”
“Lyric didn’t mention any of this when we met last night,” Connor said. “She mentioned that it had gotten harder to keep a distance from the fans and that she’d made a mistake in making herself too available.”
Phillip shifted uncomfortably in his chair and glanced over at Pop. Pop grunted. “You may as well tell him. You should have told us all this from the beginning. Last thing he needs is to go in blind.”
Jesus. What now?
“Lyric doesn’t know,” Phillip said. “I’ve kept a tight lid on it.”
“You want to say that again?” Connor asked.
“She doesn’t know.”
Connor shook his head in disbelief. Pop was right about one thing. People in show business had no common sense.
“What could you possibly hope to gain by keeping this from her? She has to be careful, which means she has to be aware of the potential threat to her. She can’t do that if no one tells her that some creep is stalking her. I don’t understand why you haven’t canceled her show or at least her appearance at the music store. Are you just trying to get her killed?”
Phillip’s lips pressed together. Connor hadn’t come out and said, You’re a dumbass, but his tone certainly implied it. Phillip didn’t look happy, but if the shoe fit . . .
“Lyric is her own worst enemy at times,” Phillip said. “If she knew some weirdo was leaving notes for her, there’s no telling what she’d do. She’s not the type to be cautious and play it safe. And we can’t go around canceling events every time some whack job starts threatening her. If we did that, we’d be out of business.”
“It seems to me, whether there’s a threat or not, she does whatever the hell she wants and damn the consequences.”
“Yeah,” Phillip said wearily. “Something like that.”
“So if she’s doing it either way, it makes no sense not to tell her what’s going on. At least then she might adopt a little self-preservation. Especially if you aren’t going to cancel a public appearance that most definitely puts her at risk.”
Phillip’s eyes narrowed. “Look, you don’t know Lyric—”
Connor held up his hand. “You’re right. I don’t know her. I don’t have a desire to get to know her. But if I’m going to take this job, I’m not coddling her, which means I’m going to be straight with her from the start. She’s going to be briefed on everything. And then she’s going to do what I tell her, when I tell her, or I walk. It’s as simple as that.”
“She’s never going to go for such heavy-handed treatment.”
Connor shrugged. “It seems to me you need me a hell of a lot more than I need you. I’d love nothing more than for her to fire me.”
“You work for me,” Phillip was quick to say. “She doesn’t have a choice.”
“Then I guess she better get used to a heavy hand. She’s too used to having her ass kissed.”
Phillip surprised Connor by laughing. “I suppose to you that’s the way it looks. When someone makes your label as much money as she has, you do whatever’s necessary to keep her happy. That’s business.”
“It’s not my job to make her happy,” Connor said evenly. “It’s my job to keep her safe.”
Phillip smiled broadly. “You know what, son? I think I’m sorry I’m going back to L.A. It might be worth being a fly on the wall for the next two weeks. I’m not sure Lyric’s ever met someone she couldn’t steamroll in two seconds flat.”
“Well, now she has.”
Lyric tapped her finger on the steering wheel of the BMW and glanced over at the GPS guidance system. She was just a block away from the place she was supposed to meet Connor Malone. It was tempting to show up late, just because, but to be honest, she wanted to get the whole thing over with as soon as possible.
She could have showed up in a limo and made an entrance, but Connor would probably be expecting that—he did seem to expect the worst—and while she’d normally enjoy feeding it to him with a silver spoon, she preferred to be perverse and surprise him.
How pathetic did it make her that she’d actually spent an inordinate amount of time analyzing what he would expect and therefore go the opposite direction?
She glanced at her manicured nails as she turned into the parking lot, relieved that she’d gone an entire day without breaking one—a new record.