Christmas With Us (A Nucci Securities Novel, #1.2) by Debra Presley

Author:Debra Presley [Presley, Debra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Debra Presley
Published: 2016-11-13T22:00:00+00:00

Enjoy Chapter One of Finding Us

(A Nucci Securities Novel)

THE HOUSE LIGHTS went on, and Abby Murphy took in the full stadium. They were cheering for her to give them one more song. Some held signs that read “I love you, Abby!” Others tried to hold on to the memories of the night by taking pictures and recording the show with their phones.

She’d spent the last two hours entertaining her fans with an elaborate show that included dancers, pyrotechnics, jugglers, acrobats, and circus animals. She wasn’t a fan of all the glitz and glamour, but she wasn’t the ringmaster of this show.

As much as she disliked the politics of her career, she hated disappointing her fans even more. “You want more?” She smiled and waved, and the audience roared. The noise gave her goose bumps up and down her arms. She signaled to the drummer, and he pounded out the intro to her next single “Beg Me.” It seemed appropriate since the audience was doing exactly that. Her dancers jumped out from the openings in the stage floor. They flanked Abby, and she gave her fans a performance they’d never forget. Sweat dripped from her face and poured down her body as she sang her last few notes. Finally, fireworks exploded around her.

The show was over.

“Thank you, Vegas!” she shouted. “I love you. Good night.”

They cheered, and with one last wave, Abby moved downstage. She stopped by her guitarist, Sean Haken, and gave him a quick kiss and then ran behind the curtain to her security detail. They whisked her off to her dressing room.

Once there, Abby sighed. The room was packed with staff, media, and random groupies, all vying for her attention. She hated this part of the night, and the high she got from the stage was lost as soon as she glanced around the room. The only thing she wanted after hours under the spotlights was a private area where she could recover. Looked like that wasn’t going to happen. Again.

Her request for quiet never seemed to register with her mother, Vivien. All Abby needed was four walls, a door, and maybe a humidifier to keep her vocal folds healthy. But, no. Her mother insisted on a “pop star life,” so Abby was met at every venue with a private, over-the-top suite filled with unnecessary things and unnecessary people.

This one had lavender walls and soft lighting to help “set the mood.” The floors were cappuccino-colored hardwood, and an area rug that matched the walls was placed in the center of the room. A deep-purple sofa with accent pillows took up most of the space, and two cream-colored chairs with brown piping were on either side. A square, glass coffee table held freshly cut roses in various shades of pink. A humidifier was placed discreetly behind the furniture because Abby’s mother thought such things were ugly and didn’t match the décor. No matter that it was the only necessary thing in the room for Abby.

Her mother also insisted that

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