She led me through an expansive home that boasted open rooms, high ceilings, and picture windows that framed Los Angeles like a postcard. Along the way, I noticed a big man in black-serious black, including his suit, shirt, and tie, with some really dark sunglasses. Alejandro's bodyguard, no doubt. Arms folded tightly, he watched me from down the hallway. I forced myself not to think about what would happen if he found out who I was.

Karen opened a door and waved me into an empty room. "Alejandro is just finishing an interview and photo shoot with No Moss. You can wait here. He won't be long." She quickly left the room.

No Moss magazine was the premier destination for everything music-related. They had been one of the first media outlets to recognize Alejandro ten years ago, before anyone else had heard of him. So it amused me that he continued to be involved with them. Yes, even someone as well-known as Alejandro still needed to feed the fame machine.

As soon as Karen stepped into the hall, George Rawson walked by. She propped her hands on her hips and gave him a distinctly unpleasant look. "Your dealer is here." She said it like I was selling drugs. Then she walked away, heels tapping loudly on the tile floor. Good riddance to her-I didn't like her any more than she liked me.

But George was much more friendly and came right over to chat. "Deborah, hello again." We shook hands. "I'm sorry, but the No Moss shoot is running late. Ivory Doe is interviewing him for a ten-year retrospective, and she does love our boy. They've been at it for hours. Anyway, why don't you come to the pool and you can wait while they wrap up. I know he'll want to see this guitar." He led the way, and I nervously followed him onto the back deck.

This was getting to be very intense. First, I was meeting Alejandro, who made me all fluttery inside, and now I was also going to meet Ivory Doe. Ivory was a famous journalist who wrote in-depth stories about the world of rock and roll. Musicians knew they'd made it when she came to interview them. In Ivory's original coverage of Alejandro, she dubbed him "The Crown Prince of Rock and Roll." But by the time his fourth album came out, his popularity had grown so much that she upgraded him to be "The Lord of Rock and Roll," which became his unofficial title. When Ivory Doe laid down an epithet, it stuck.

The pool looked like the set of a movie. Camera tripods, photographer's umbrellas, and lighting reflectors were everywhere. People ran around the deck with clipboards, makeup kits, and cameras. In the middle of it all, sprawled out on a recliner wearing only a tight bathing suit, was Alejandro. Sex personified, seeing him like this made my jaw hit the floor.




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