Kiera

Score: As It Was - Harry Styles

"When she finds out, you're as good as dead, you know that, right?" Tony's face looks genuinely worried, peeking from the screen of my phone as we FaceTime. "She was looking forward to spending some time with you. You seem to be working non-stop lately, Kiki, and she needs you, you know? Now, more than ever, she needs her best friend..." Tony's voice breaks off, as an inhumane shriek comes echoing through the phone. His and Lisa's baby girl, Phoebe, has been having a particularly bad teething episode lately, and both Tony and Lisa haven't had a proper night's sleep in a week.

"I know, Tony, and I'm sorry, I really am, but this is an amazing opportunity! This is the biggest job I've ever been offered, and this is really going to open some doors for me," I say to Tony and Lisa's fridge door, as Tony bends over to pick up Phoebe from the floor. I know that his phone is propped on a stand on their dining table so that his hands are free to pick up Phoebe while we FaceTime. His head pops up into the screen once more, and Phoebe's round, pink face emerges right under his chin.

"Hi, Phoebe," I say, smiling and waving to my little Goddaughter-to-be. "Oh, my God, Tony, she's grown so much! And, she's become even cuter!"

"I know, right? Once these damn canines come out, she'd be even more adorable."

"Are you supposed to say "damn" in front of her?"

"If you don't tell Lisa I swore in front of the baby, I won't tell her that you're ditching her on her birthday. Again."

"Hey, that's not fair! There's no way she'll find out that you swore if I don't tell her, but she'll definitely notice I'm not there on her birthday, don't you think?"

"Anyway, you better think of something really special to make it up to her. She'll go mental. What is this so very important job, anyway"

"Yeah, about that. I can't tell you. It's top secret."

It's been two weeks since I took the assignment, and I feel like I've been dragged into this crazy new world, where I have to do fucking PR training, set up some new security systems on my computer, and sign non-disclosure agreements on every step of the way, and I haven't even met my new client yet. I had a couple of phone calls with Jeanine from Hologram Entertainment, and I'm still trying to figure out what exactly her role is, but what has been made clear, time and again, is that I should keep my mouth shut about what I'm doing. Even if I'm not quite sure what I'm doing yet.

"Top secret? Kiki, I love you, but, seriously? You're selling hospitality packages for a group of luxury hotels to the bourgie versions of Contiki. What can possibly be considered top secret, are you turning Buckingham Palace into one of your hotels or something?"

I bite my lower lip. He's right. I'm not working on a new nuclear power reactor, or a cure for cancer, for fuck's sake. Yet, I signed a non-disclosure agreement. Several, to be more precise.

"I'm sorry, Tony, I really can't tell right now."

"And when are you flying out?"

"On Lisa's birthday," I mumble reluctantly.

"Oh, Kiki. Kiki, Kiki, Kiki...You should really think of the fastest way to leave the country, once Lisa finds out, and when she finds out that you won't even tell what this is all about..."

I cringe at the thought of having this conversation with my best friend. She's going to fucking flip! I doubt that any birthday present in the world would appease her. She's been so stressed lately, with returning to work early from her maternity leave, planning the wedding, and looking after Phoebe, and I know that she was really looking forward to spending some time together. I was very much looking forward to spending time together, too, but, here we are.

If only there was a way for me to do something nice for her...Like, take her on a holiday, or something, like in the good old days, before I took the job at Lavet Hotels and before Phoebe was born, and we would go away for the weekends together, and sometimes nobody else would know where we were for days. Even Tony. He had been getting pissed off at first, of course, but when Lisa explained to him that this was her way of recharging and blowing off some steam, he reluctantly agreed to our little trips, under a couple of conditions. First, we should always be safe, of course. Second, we should always have a means of contacting him. And third, no other men. Or women.

But he never had to worry about that. Lisa is and always has been madly in love with him. Usually, we'd just book a cheap flight to somewhere in Europe, and a hotel room, and go shopping, and have brunches, possibly go see a show or something...

The idea strikes me before I finish that thought.

"Hey, Tony," I say, trying to get his attention, as he is trying to put Phoebe's shoes on." Do you think you can watch the baby alone for a weekend or so?" I ask, striking him with a bribing grin.

"Um, yes, of course," he glares at me. " Why?"

"I can't tell you yet, but I might be able to save both Lisa's birthday, and my ass, if my plan works," I chirp happily through the phone.

"Wait, you know you can't take her away on her actual birthday, right? There's a party planned already, as you are very well aware."

"I am, yes, thanks for reminding me," I say, opening up the last email I got from that Jeanine lady, containing the concert dates and locations of the Flying Benjamins' world tour. "How about June 24th? That's next Friday. Three days after Lisa's birthday," I add with a smug smile.

That happens to be the first concert of the European leg of the tour, which is also going to be my official introduction to the team that I'm going to be working with for the next year or so. It'll be in Barcelona, and I think it'll be just...perfect.

"What about June 24th?" Tony frowns in confusion, as Phoebe keeps smacking him on the side of his head with her spoon.

"Does Lisa have any plans for then and can you watch Phoebe then, genius," I sigh. He should really get some sleep, bless him.

"Oh, um, right, yeah, that's fine. And I don't think Lisa has any plans then."

"OK, Tony, listen up," I say, opening another browser page on my computer. "I need you to pack her an overnight bag. Make sure you pack her passport and put something nice for her to wear in there, as well..."

"Wait, what?"

"Remember the good ol' days? "Stay safe, stay connected, and no men? Or women?""

"What?" Tony seems to have erased the rest of his vocabulary, his eyes so wide, that they look like they will pop out of their orbits.

"I need you to trust me, Tony, everything is going to be OK. Lisa will be in good hands. I will try and spend as much time as possible with her..."

"But, where are you taking her? When will you be picking her up? When would she return?"

"It'll be just the weekend, Tony. And I won't be able to pick her up, because I'd be out of the country already, remember? I'll need you to drop her off at the airport. Oh, and I'll need to call Anne and ask her to give Lisa leave of absence that day..."

"Whoa, slow down," Tony says, and turns his head to look at me, as he's trying to strap Phoebe inside her feeding chair. "I can't take her to the airport. Someone's got to watch Phoebe."

"Well, book her an Uber or something..." I sigh, but then another idea hits me. Jeez, I'm on fire today! "Never mind, I'll handle it..."

"You'll handle what, Kiki?!"

"I told you, Tony! Just trust me..."

One week later

"I'm going to fucking kill you, bitch!" Lisa's voice comes through the speaker.

Wow. Not exactly what I had been hoping to hear, when I booked her a town car to take her from her house to Heathrow Airport, managed to arrange leave of absence for her, not only for today, but also on Monday next week, got her to fly business class to Barcelona, and booked one of Lavet Brcelona's premium suites (the only one that hadn't been booked by the Flying Benjamins' team yet), as a surprise belated birthday present.

She doesn't know it yet, but I also got her an all-area-access pass for the first concert of the show, which is tonight.

Billed it all to the company as a business expense, of course.

"You fucking ghost me for two weeks, you wish me a Happy Birthday via text, and don't answer any of my calls or texts, then you fucking kidnap me and fly me out to Barcelona? You know I fucking hate surprises! Besides, Phoebe's been running a fever since last night, because of her back molars!"

Yeah, I might have done all of that. Any time Lisa called in the past two weeks, I was afraid to pick up the phone, because I was feeling horrible about not being there with her on her birthday, and for going away, again, when she had been needing me so much the past couple of months. I kind of hoped our little get-together over the weekend would make up for it.

I hope she doesn't mind that I'd be working most of the time, though.

I've been stationed in Barcelona for the past three days, working like crazy to have everything ready for the band and their team. Turns out that, as a precaution against fan violence (which I had no idea was a thing before I started working on this assignment), and for the sake of optimizing time on long tours, the band and their core team might not arrive at the venue for their concert until the actual day. And, this is exactly what is happening here. There are some folks from Hologram Entertainment and some other staff that have been here since Tuesday, mainly the technicians, assembling the stage, setting up the lights and the pyro effects, a lady from the promotion team, and Jack from Security.

The band and their management team should have already landed and should be arriving at the hotel any minute now, so both Jack and I have been up and running since five a.m. this morning, testing the cameras and working on the Security Protocols, which he has extensively been teaching the hotel staff since Wednesday. Jack's even set up a secret entry route for the band, as, according to him, our VIP entrance is "a disaster waiting to happen". Therefore, the band and their manager should be coming through the back doors of the kitchen in approximately thirteen minutes. Just about the time Lisa should be here.

I squint my eyes at the bright sunshine, bathing the nearby Jardins De La Maternitat, as I step through the flying door of the lobby and outside at the top of the front stairs. It is a beautiful, bright morning, and it's already hot as hell, but I don't have time to notice the heat. I search the street in front of the hotel with my eyes, but there's still no trace of Lisa's car.

Great. Just. Great. I wouldn't even be here to meet her when the car drops her off. And she's already pissed off at me.

"I love you, too, by the way," I say, squinting my eyes again, as I imagine Lisa's face when she arrives and I'm nowhere to be seen until late in the evening. I haven't even had the chance to review the folder with the band members' resumes and requirements yet. I've been too busy setting up a restricted access area across the whole seventh floor, making sure only the team's key cards are programmed to stop the elevator on the seventh floor and to access the hallways, and also, oddly specific, I've been assigned the task of arranging a practically bottomless supply of Lagavulin at the hotel bar and in the boys' suites. Seems these guys are really into living the rockstar lifestyle. But Lagavulin? Ugh!

A flashback from that night at Lavet Paris and Strange Hot Guy drinking Lagavulin ignites briefly in my mind, but I quickly put it out. I don't have time for that now. Also, Strange Hot Guy seems to have completely forgotten about my existence. He hasn't reached out to me ever since our little exchange of texts before I got on my flight to London two weeks ago. I'm not gonna lie, I've been tempted to reach out to him myself, now that I have his number, but every time I've tried to message him, a little voice in my head pops up, telling me that it's not worth it, that I will probably never see him again and I shouldn't nourish a stupid fantasy stops me from hitting "Send". Besides, I've been too busy to have time for that. Whatever that means.

"Come on, babe! In my defense, I had no way of knowing that Phoebe would be running a fever all night. Didn't her canines come out already?"

"If you had been listening more attentively, you would know that this time it's the molars, as I already told you!"

Jeez, how many teeth do babies have?

"Oh, come on, Lisa! IIt'sgonna be so much fun, babe! Like in good old times, remember?"

"Yes, but it's not good old times anymore, Kiki! I have a child now, and a wedding to plan!"

The way she says it makes my heart wrench. Lisa's not one to usually be discussing my life choices, and she's the best wingwoman a girl can ask for, but ever since she gave birth to Phoebe, something changed. She's been a lot more dismissive of my short-lived heartaches, in the rare occasions there've been any, and just doesn't have the time to listen to my complaints about the few disastrous dates that random Tinder chat-ups have taken me on.

I get it, though. She doesn't have time to wash her hair sometimes for over a week, and sleep has been scarce in the last couple of months. That's why I've been trying to be as supportive as possible and not to talk to her about my problems.

I haven't even told her about Strange Hot Guy...

Here we go again. I've already thought about him twice today. I close my eyes and shake my head.

"I know! And I'm sorry, I just really wanted to make it up to you for all the times I haven't been around lately. And I have a huge surprise for you, once you get here..."

"Hate surprises, remember," she huffs and I can practically see her rolling her eyes, but her tone has softened and I think I can finally sense the faintest hint of curiosity in her voice.

My work phone rings in my other hand. I lift it to my eyes and look at the screen. It's Jack.

"Sorry, babe, I gotta go. I'll have someone take you to your room. OK, love you, bye!" I say, my pulse accelerating, because I know that Jack calling can mean only one thing: Issues.

"Are you fucking kidding me..." But Lisa's sentence is cut short, as I shove my personal phone in the back pocket of my jeans and pick up my work phone. I'll deal with her later.

"Hi, Jack, what's up?" I say, as I turn on my heels and start walking back towards the lobby.

His voice comes booming through the speaker.

"They're here."

Oh, my God! Shit just got real!