Isabel stood in the center of the stage and looked out at the thousands of seats. She wasn’t filled with euphoria, nor was she thrilled by what was happening, probably because she was so scared. She still didn’t know if she had the courage to step on the stage and sing. Guess she would find out Friday, she thought a little hysterically.
By the time they finished going over everything, the adrenaline was fading, and Isabel felt as though she’d just run a marathon. Xavier put his arm around her and walked by her side back to his suite.
“Isabel, are you seeing anyone?”
The question surprised her. “No. Are you?”
He grinned. “No.”
She laughed. “Aren’t we a pair.”
“Maybe I could take you out sometime. It will involve a lot of planning,” he explained, and then he sighed. “Weeks of planning to go anywhere without a mob scene. It will be a hell of a challenge.”
“Maybe I could take you out sometime,” she countered. “To an island, and I promise there wouldn’t be a mob.”
“Nathan’s Bay.”
“Yes.”
“Will the FBI agents, the Justice attorney, the federal judge, and the chief of police be there?”
She laughed. “Jax told you.”
“I already knew about the Buchanan family. When do your stitches come out?”
She came to an abrupt stop. “You know about . . .”
He leaned down and whispered into her ear, “The shooting? Yes, I know. I watched the video.”
“But how . . .”
“I have ways of finding out things, Isabel,” he said with a smile.
Still stunned, she said, “The video didn’t identify me, how could you know . . .”
“Actually, I found out from one of my guards,” he admitted. “He’s an off-duty cop. He saw the video of you singing and connected it to the other one.”
“Oh,” she said. This was the last thing she wanted to hear today.
“Relax, Isabel. None of my staff knows, and if they did, none of them would leak it to the press.”
He shook his head and added, “That was one hell of a shot.”
He nudged her along. When they turned down the last hallway, there were four guards waiting.
While one of them stepped forward to speak to Xavier, Isabel walked into the suite to collect her purse and say good-bye to everyone.
“Amy, get a baseball cap or a scarf to put over Isabel’s head,” Xavier said. Turning to the guards, he instructed, “I don’t want anyone to see her or take photos, and I want all of you to block her in on all sides until you’ve got her in the car.”
“Is there a problem?” Isabel asked, knowing full well there was.
“Word got out that I’m here,” Xavier said. “There’s a crowd outside, front and back. Don’t worry.
You’ll be okay.”
He took both of her hands in his and kissed her cheek. “All your dreams are about to come true.
Tomorrow night you’re going to become a superstar. I hope you’re ready for it.”
He was wrong, but she didn’t tell him so. Being a superstar wasn’t her dream.
FOURTEEN
ISABEL GOT A TASTE OF XO MANIA WALKING THE GAUNTLET TO THE CAR. SHE LIKENED THE
crazed fans surrounding the guards on all sides to an angry swarm of bees. Following instructions, she kept her head down and stared at the pavement while her unflappable escorts moved as a single unit through the shrieking crowd. It was sheer bedlam and a little bit terrifying. By the time she dove into the backseat of the car, she was trembling.
Once they were on their way and Jax called, “All clear now,” she was able to breathe.
“Jax, I don’t understand why they were screaming at me. Couldn’t they see I wasn’t XO?”
“It’s impossible to understand the mindset of a mob. Maybe they figured you were a friend of Xavier’s. Who knows?” He added, “I’ll warn you now. This was nothing compared to what’s coming.”
“Oh my,” she whispered. What had she gotten herself into?
She had never been so happy to see the bridge that would take her back to the island, and when Jax finally pulled into the drive of the Buchanan house, she was weak with relief.
“Did Xavier go over the schedule with you for tomorrow?”
“Yes,” she said. “We tweaked it a little. He wanted me at the arena by one o’clock. I talked him into a later hour. The Hamilton Hotel is just fifteen minutes from The Garden. I wanted you to pick me up at six o’clock, but Xavier wouldn’t hear of it. He said traffic will be horrible, and if there was an accident . . . so we settled on you picking me up at the hotel at four o’clock. I won’t be late,” she promised.