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
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