“I’m already a capitalist. The problem is I’m also a realist. Hardly anyone gets rich on documentaries. I want to do what I want to do and fuck them if they don’t get it.”

He starts to laugh and my temper explodes, but I wrestle it into check because I’ve gotten what I want and I don’t want him to take it away.

“Look on the bright side, Kaley. You’ll probably be more successful than Michael Moore in this. You come by your talent and your attitude naturally.”

“I hate it when you laugh at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you, Kaley. I’m laughing at me.”

What does that mean?

“Right, so anyway, can I start filming now?”

“Film away.”

I almost go back to my seat, but I stop. “We’re different, you and me. Do you get that?”

“Yes, I get that,” my dad replies heavily.

“Then don’t think you know me because we share some obscure genetic link. You don’t know me at all. And you paying for USC doesn’t make us even. Not even close. It’s not that easy. We’re not a fucking Maury Povich show. We don’t live happily ever after once the DNA results are shared. No one does. They just don’t show the ‘after’ on camera.”

Those great black eyes fix on me, shrewd and probing. “Is that why you want to film? To show the ‘after’?”

No, because Graham Carson said I don’t know you and the camera never lies. And in all fairness, I’m not sure he’s wrong.

My jaw tightens. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

“I hope you’ll explain it to me once you know.”

“Fuck, it’s your job to explain things to me,” I hiss, springing to my feet and hurrying back to my seat.

I’ve gotten what I want.

If I verbally fence with Alan any more today, he might take it away and, fuck, I don’t want that.

*  *  *

Landing gear touches earth. The plane stops. And everything around me gets too busy, moves too fast for me to film anything.

I climb from my seat, put my cross-body strap over my head, and hold out my hands for my brothers. The cabin doors open. The steps are fixed to the plane. Security moves in front of me toward the door.

I hold Ethan on one side of me and Eric on the other. “Come on, guys. I’ll walk with you to the car. There’s nothing to get freaked out about. It’s just like with Mom. OK?”

They nod and we move together toward the door.

Graham stops me. “Kaley, you’ve got to wait. Security first. Then your dad. Then you kids. That’s going to be the order from now on. It’s how we’re going to roll for the rest of the tour.”

I roll my eyes.

“I’ve done this before a thousand times. Will you just let me get my brothers into the car? They hate this crap. It’s too much for them. They’re only six. Mom sends me ahead with the boys. That’s my job. It’s how we roll.”

“In Mumbai?”

“No.”

His eyes burn into me. “Then you listen to what we say when we say it. My job is to keep you safe.”

He turns away from me, and I can hear the security team chatter back and forth through their headsets.

I smile down at Ethan and Eric. “It’s OK. We just have to wait for Alan.”

I exhale and face the people moving toward the front of the plane. Where are Alan and Krystal? Fuck, I see everyone but them. Who the hell is that hideous old prune closing in on me?

She stops next to me, giving me a cool glance from head to toe, then crosses her arms looking centurion-like and official. “I’m Mrs. Barton. Are you one of the children?”

Internally, I shudder.

Really, Alan?

A nanny?

I’ve spent most of my life taking care of my brothers and sisters. Mom has never had more than Lourdes except for brief moments of necessity. You’ve got us for four months, Alan, and you hire help—ghastly help, at that.

I ignore her and wait for my dad.

Finally.

Alan stops in front of me with Krystal.

Prune Face extends her hand to my dad. “Hello, I’m Mrs. Barton. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am a big fan.”

What a suck-up. Like hell you’re a fan. Your music died with the dinosaurs.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, but even I can tell that fails the sincerity test. “These are my daughters, Kaley and Krystal. Those are my sons, Ethan and Eric. Eric is the one with the tiny birthmark beneath his left ear. It’s the only way I can tell them apart for sure. Collect the boys. The girls can manage on their own.”

She stares like there’s something wrong with us. Hell no, I’m turning my brothers over to her. I’ve had enough. I start moving toward the metal steps with Eric and Ethan.

“Stop,” Alan orders.

Crap. I turn back from the open door.

“Same routine as last time,” he says. “We walk off the plane. Say nothing to anyone and climb into the car they direct you to.”

OK, this shit has got to stop.

Everyone is telling us different shit.

“We already know this,” I snap. “You don’t have to repeat everything a thousand times. This is nothing new. We’ve traveled with Mom. You keep telling us exactly what she makes us do.”

Alan’s eyes go wide. “Good. I won’t do it again.”

Krystal nods.

Way to suck up, baby girl.

I step off the plane with my brothers. Cameras explode in every direction. Ethan’s fingers tighten around mine, but Eric looks like he’s enjoying it.

I spot Graham on the tarmac waiting and a row of microphones lined with press. And fuck, why are they calling my name? That’s never happened with Mom before.

When my feet touch earth we’re surrounded by security.

“This way,” Graham instructs.

I shut out the flashing cameras, the shouting voices and the screaming by focusing on getting my brothers into the waiting SUV.

I hang back after they’re in the car, watching my dad sprint down to the tarmac with Krystal in his arms. He’s smiling and waving and moves quickly past the rest of the band already at the microphones. Good, he’s not making the press stop. Maybe we’ll get to the hotel before Ethan and Eric melt down.

Oh shit, who’s that?

Why is she stopping in front of Alan?

Fuck, I don’t like the way she stares at my dad while she talks to him.

“Kaley, climb into the car,” Graham orders.

I shift my gaze to him. “Who is that with my dad?”

Graham looks over his shoulder. “Jen. Our resident courtesan.”

Courtesan?

My lids fly wide. “You mean my dad travels with a girlfriend? Is that what you mean by courtesan?”

Grahams grimaces. “Oh crap, I shouldn’t have said that. And no, she’s works for your dad. She’s PR with the promotion team and a giant pain in the ass. I just don’t like Jen. She gets in the way. Makes it hard to do my job.”

My gaze narrows on her.

In the way, huh?

Oh, I bet she gets in the way.

I shake my head. “Don’t be like the rest of them, lying about everything to me to cover his ass.”

Graham’s eyes flash with surprise. “I wouldn’t do that. And I’m not now. The cornerstone of a good security team is trust. You have to trust me if I’m going to do my job well.”

I lift my brows. “Then don’t ever lie to me and we’ll get along just fine.”

He grins and I feel something stir in my veins.

“Who says I want to get along with you?” he murmurs. “Something tells me you’re trouble. I should keep us adversarial.”

A little tingle comes out of nowhere.

Did Graham Carson just flirt with me?

I bite my lip. “If you want me to believe that you need to stop looking at me the way you do.”

He steps back and smiles. “And you, Kaley, need to get into the car.”

Nice change of direction.

OK, he’s sort of cool.

And definitely good-looking.

I climb in, scan the already crowded SUV, and decide to sit in the second row, I’m guessing behind where Alan will sit since there’s no one on the bench seat in front of me.

I look at my brothers. “You guys OK?”

They nod.

I put in my earbuds, blast the music, close my eyes and try to will myself not to think.