ge area of the Lincoln Center. The room was a cha

hoved an earpiece into her ear. Her m

her, shoving a clipboard into her

arking orders, adjusting the structural set pieces and

r, wearing noise-canceling headphones, his

ck SUVs ignored the traffic cones and pull

ment. His face was a storm of dark fury. The flashing cameras of the papa

shed to clear a pr

venue. His eyes swept over the crowd of social

entrance to the backstage hallway, he caught a f

l Street executives and marc

sses stepped in front of the door, cr

rrowed into danger

under his stare, bu

Baird, please. The press is everywhere. If you force y

nched so hard a muscle ticked in his

chilling look, and turned toward the stai

oked the entire venue. He sat in the s

e heavy bass of the music shook t

e clothes. His eyes were g

oshua. Get me the backgroun

The head designer didn't come out

nouncer invited the VIP guests

justing his cuffs. He

door swung open from the outside. A sicke

g haute couture dress

ch turned. It wa