Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 112917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
First, that Zane wasn’t just a gorgeous face and a captivating voice. He was a decent person.
And second, that I might possibly have a little bit of trouble maintaining my professional distance… though I would. I obviously would.
Hubris whispered, Don’t be so sure, but I ignored it.
I spent the next few days escorting Zane from his home in Malibu to the recording studio while he worked long hours performing music for a new album. Each day, I expected the music to get old, for the songs to begin to sound the same, or for me to wish for silence.
None of those things happened.
I found myself falling into a strange and easy obsession with him. Somehow, in the span of three days, I turned into one of the singer’s rabid fans, only I had to hide it as my own horrifying and dirty secret.
Zee Barlo became my idol. He had the voice of a fallen angel and eyes that melted my fucking heart.
Okay, I told myself. So I like his music and think he’s one of the few people in the world who truly deserves to be as famous as he is. I maybe even have a small crush on him. So what?
It was a good thing I was pleasantly obsessed with his voice since I’d be hearing a nauseating amount of it as long as he was my principal. And my crush simply meant that I was more aware of him. Better able to do my job. It didn’t have to be a big deal.
Hubris said, Hold my beer.
On the fourth day of my “super-cushy” assignment, I realized Zane wasn’t just a good person… he was maybe the best person I’d ever met.
Zane didn’t have a full-time PA because it was “stressful” and made him feel like a diva. Instead, he had a house manager who kept his fridge stocked and his laundry done, and he had an assistant named Kenji, who was based in New York and seemed to run Zane’s financial and legal life. On this particular day, Kenji flew out in the corporate jet, seemingly for the sole purpose of getting Zane’s undivided attention while Zane traveled to Toronto for a meet and greet.
We were the only three people in the cabin with the exception of the flight attendant, who was busy doing something in the galley at the front of the jet. Since I was sitting behind the pair, I wondered if maybe they’d forgotten I was there because they began discussing financials using very specific and very large numbers.
Kenji’s voice was low and calm. “The original education fund in Barlo is growing faster than the fund manager expected. She wants you to consider splitting in two and possibly designating the second one as merit-based.”
“Instead of increasing the amount of need-based scholarships? I’m not sure, Kenji…”
“I told her you’d say that,” he said with a chuckle. “She said that the need-based applicants are fully covered at this time. But if you want to continue focusing on need-based kids, you can expand into the neighboring counties, or her team can research—”
“Can’t we do both?” Zane asked. “I mean, didn’t we already talk about expanding into Terrell and Mitchell counties?”
Kenji’s dark hair flashed between the seats as he nodded. “Those funds have already been established, and the one in south Fulton is still running strong, especially with the corporate matching programs we have there.”
As they continued to discuss the scholarship funds, I learned that these were scholarships for kids in his home state of Georgia who were living in poverty. Instead of college scholarships, they were scholarships that fully funded elementary through high school projects, helping teachers with supplies, learning assessments, technology, field trips, and even additional teaching staff. His funds covered hot meals for all kids in those schools regardless of need, and he even made plans to visit each school once a year for a quick meet and greet to give the kids bragging rights.
Once he and Kenji had gotten through the topic of his education projects, Kenji went over contributions to local foster care systems in the cities where he was playing concerts.
Chest tight, I remembered the intel in Violet’s client file. Zane had lost both his parents to addiction. His father had been convicted of drug-related violence before dying in prison when Zane was in elementary school, and his mother had died of an overdose only a few months later. After that, he’d been raised by his grandmother and various other extended family members in a tiny town in Georgia.
I’d also learned that the town of Barlo, Georgia, had been dirt-poor until only a couple of years ago when Zane had begun funneling serious money into the town to revitalize it and bring much-needed jobs to the people there. Even his choice to use Barlo in his stage name had contributed to the town getting an influx of tourism money.