Guarding Her Heart
by Negeen Papehn
Copyright © 2022 by Negeen Papehn. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Chapter One
Niloo
“I’m so nervous.”
I glance through the open flap of the tent and catch a glimpse of Emmanuel riffling through the stack of papers before him. He scrubs his face, and my nerves make a mess of my insides. The longer he takes, the more erratically I bounce on my toes. As the manager of the Latin Rock band Ternura, the final vote on whether I get this position goes to him. Normally, the concert itself is reason enough to be here, but today, the job is the bigger draw.
I take a deep breath, shaking out my fingertips, and turn my face to the sun. It’s too hot, though, like the city has lost all concept of time and season and is stretching into an abnormally long summer.
“Stop fidgeting so much. You’re making me nervous, and I don’t even have a reason to be.” Mike grins, his perfectly shaped goatee framing plump lips, his thick dark lashes sweeping against newly groomed brows. A man really shouldn’t be this beautiful.
That being said, being the head of Ternura’s glam squad has his manicured appearance fitting the mold perfectly. “It’s Emmanuel for God’s sake. You know him. And he knows how badly I want you to be my road dog on this tour.”
“I know,” I whine. “But this is my first real job since getting out of cosmetology school, and if we’re honest, I’m being super ambitious.” Trying to join the hair and beauty team for a Grammy-winning, top-notch Latin rock band is reaching, even for me.
“Eh.” Mike brushes off my concerns. “You’re related to the lead singer. Anthony loves you. This is all just a formality.” When I don’t look convinced, he adds, “Trust me.”
I really hope he’s right. Getting this gig would look great on my resume.
Sure, it’s a bit complicated. I mean, I’m not entirely certain if being Anthony’s sister-in-law is hurtful to my cause. I’m sure some people will assume that’s the only reason I got this job.
Not to mention, he’d essentially be my boss. And Mike would be my superior.
They’re both basically like brothers to me, so I could understand if there are some concerns about putting me on payroll. Maybe Emmanuel is taking forever to decide because he’s realizing that having the lead singer married to my sister, Darya, makes for a sticky situation. Maybe he’s trying to figure out how to let me down easy?
On the other hand, if Mike’s right and this is just a technicality, it’s only the first hurdle I need to clear. Getting Darya on board is going to be a whole other battle.
My sister isn’t going to be happy when she finds out I went behind her back and applied for an apprenticeship with Ternura without telling her about it.
She’ll feel like I betrayed her. Especially since she’s already so nervous about Anthony going on tour while she’s pregnant. Telling her I’m going to go with him could get ugly.
If she’d just quit her day job at the ER and come with us, it would make things so much easier. Darya is stubborn, and despite no longer needing her doctor gig, she’s all about independence and being a working woman. Why should she be able to follow her dreams and I can’t?
Since Maman died of lung cancer a little over a year ago, Darya’s entire focus has shifted onto me. I love her, but it’s exhausting being the object of her worry and concern. Maman’s death has given her an irrational fear—as if unless she’s watching me every second and exerting some level of control over my life, I’ll disappear in a puff of smoke.
I haven’t even gotten this job yet and I’m already stressed. I shake my head.
This is a good thing, Niloo. You need this for your career.
I’m allowed to want to better my own life, aren’t I? Not all of us can snag the lead singer of a famous rock band and end up rich and happy. Even though I know I’m not doing anything wrong, I still feel like I’m about to get in trouble.
“Negaran nahbash.” Mike squeezes my hand. “You’ve got this.”
Laughter and cheers erupt through the crowd as Ternura’s “Cariño Extraño” starts blaring through the speakers. Someone yells, “How much longer?” to which the crowd rumbles with anticipation, and Mike’s attention is drawn in that direction. I follow his gaze.
“Is something wrong?”
“No…not yet,” he answers. Despite his light tone, he looks worried.
Ternura’s security team tightens their perimeter.
It’s a subtle shift in their position, and no one in line seems to notice. Their lead bodyguard, Travis, steps to the front and presses his finger to his ear. He scans the crowd, and his posture readjusts. His head lowers, his eyes narrow, and his body leans forward, reminding me of a cat ready to pounce.
Without warning, he launches into the line, and I hold my breath, trying to see what the commotion is all about. There’s a shuffle of bodies, and another one of his team members materializes beside him. When they emerge out of the crowd, each has the back of a concertgoer’s shirt fisted in their fingers as they drag them toward the exit.
“Pretty badass, right?”
I nod. Superhero speed is definitely badass. And a little unnerving, to be honest. Mike’s grinning, completely unaffected. Is this a normal occurrence at these things?
The crowd has grown from the twenty or so people when I got here to at least a hundred in the time Mike and I have been waiting outside the tent. They’re packed in line like restless sardines, waiting for a meet and greet with their favorite band. If there are this many VIPs, how many people will be at the actual concert? My stomach rolls, half filled with anticipation, half filled with uneasiness about what going on tour will actually look like.
“Is it always this chaotic?” I’ve dropped in on Ternura’s concerts before with my sister, but by then, it’s usually call time and the band’s singing while we hang out backstage. I’ve never seen a meet and greet before a show. Judging from the number of bodies continuing to increase as we speak, I can tell that this is a different beast entirely.
“Yup,” Mike answers. I must look concerned. “You’ll get used to it.”
He grabs my hand and leads me toward a set of tables sitting at the far end of the lot, currently empty. The energy of the crowd pulses like a whirling fireball ready to launch. They’re all vibrating in unison.
A wall of bodyguards is stationed in front of the empty seats, each man with hands clasped behind his back, thick corded muscles stretched beneath his T-shirt, ready to lunge at the first sight of mayhem. Their expressionless faces are intimidating, even to me, and I know them. I’m not surprised as the fans cower beneath their silent warnings. I wouldn’t mess with any of them, either.
Suddenly, the noise erupts all around us.
“What the hell?”
Before I get a chance to figure out what the newest bout of commotion is about, two strong arms wrap around my waist and spin me around in a circle. I scream at first, until I hear Mateo’s familiar laughter fill my ears.
“Put me down!” I bat at his arm and giggle. When he finally returns me to the ground, I have to hang on to his forearms to keep from falling over.
“Hey, little one,” Mateo says. His smile is big and bright and envelops me in warmth. As I gaze up into his big green eyes, his light brown hair, a mess of curls sweeping his forehead, I can see why so many people are head over heels in love with Ternura’s drummer.
“My turn,” Hugo interjects, pulling me into him for a bear hug. The leather strap of his bass guitar presses into my chest as he squeezes me so tight I can hardly breathe.
I’m not going to lie—I wish everyone greeted me with this much enthusiasm. I kind of love being the center of their attention. It’s exactly what my tired, battered heart needs.
It’s been a rough year after losing Maman and trying to figure out how to piece our lives back together without her in it. Add Darya’s pregnancy and her sudden need to keep me close, and it’s been hard to learn how to navigate. Anthony has really stepped up and been not only Darya’s but my rock as well.
These guys have been the icing on the cake. They’ve adopted me as their little sister, and I’m beyond excited at the possibility of going on tour with them. How fun to mess around and be silly like this every day.
Suddenly, a group of young girls, all wearing shirts with the bandmates’ faces on them, start screaming for their attention. Mateo and Hugo both smile and wave as more people join in. A few of them even burst into tears.
“They don’t even know these guys,” I whisper to Mike.
“I know. I always find it so bizarre when people react that way to them. But I guess object of affection and all that jazz.” He shrugs.
“We heard the good news.” Mateo’s attention returns to me, and he gives me a high five.
“Oh say it isn’t so.” Carlos breaks through our little circle. “Hermanita is going to be joining us this time around? I don’t know if my heart is strong enough to take another Zameeni sister on.” He clasps his hand over his chest in mock exasperation. I swat at him.
“The eldest Zameeni woman discovered your arrhythmia, bro. So if you ask me, these Zameeni women are good for your health.” Mateo grins.
Carlos throws his arm around my neck, and I lean in. He’s a head and a half taller than me, so my cheek rests against his chest. “Can’t argue with that.”
“Carlos! We love you!!!” Screams come from the fans, and Carlos raises his hand and waves into the crowd, jet-black hair swaying at his shoulders.
I shake my head and giggle.
“What can I say? The ladies love hot, Latin guitarists.”
“Your boyfriend doesn’t seem to like that,” I tease, pointing at a now-scowling Mike.
“He’ll get over it.” Carlos throws his winning smile toward Mike, who tries to stay mad but doesn’t convince anyone. “It’s just business.” Carlos bats his lashes, turning up his charm, and Mike huffs.
“Whatever.” He rolls his eyes but doesn’t stop the smile from stretching across his lips. Carlos seems happy with Mike’s response because he turns his attention back to me.
“You excited to join us?”
“Nothing is for sure yet. Emmanuel has been staring at my resume and rec letters for way too long. Not sure that’s a good thing.” I glance over Mateo’s shoulder to see if Emmanuel is still in the tent, but the flaps are now closed. Disappointment sinks into my belly.
“Are you kidding?” Carlos answers. “There’s no way you’re not getting this job.” He juts his chin toward Mike. “This guy will totally quit if they don’t give it to you.” Carlos leans in as if he’s going to tell me a secret but doesn’t lower his voice. “I heard him threatening our manager last night. He even started throwing in Farsi cuss words.”
“First of all, I did not. And second, how would you know what I was saying?” Mike’s hands are on his hips, his head cocked in defiance.
“I may not speak the language, but I’ve been around you long enough to know when you’re chewing someone out.” Carlos chuckles.
Suddenly, I’m blinded by flashing lights.
I blink hard, trying to regain my vision as an arm pushes into me, shoving me to the left. Out of nowhere, a mob of people appears, swallowing the band.
I trip over my feet, stumbling as I get separated from them. I’m pushed around as more lights flash and the crowd thickens. I grab onto someone’s shirt, no idea who I’m yanking on but desperate to keep from falling over as a leg splays out before me.
Just when I think I’m regaining my footing, another elbow knocks into me, throwing me off-balance. This time, I feel my center of gravity shift and realize I’m about to fall flat on my ass. I slam my eyes shut and wait to hit the concrete.
But before I do, someone catches me.
Going on tour with mega-hot rock band Ternura is the opportunity Niloo Zameeni needs to kick-start her career as a high-end stylist. It also means defying the expectations she’s always struggled to live up to as the youngest daughter of a Persian family.
Niloo will do almost anything to make her glam-as-hell dream a reality, even going toe-to-toe with six-feet-plus, tattooed, former Marine Travis Collins, the band’s stoic, unmovable head of security.
My babysitter.
There’s nothing the rebellious Niloo loves more than getting under his skin. Teasing him. Watching his professional control slip, only to reveal raw hunger that takes her breath away.
Now she’s the one temptation he can’t resist—and she doesn’t want to be resisted. But Travis has rules for a reason, and distractions just might cost them everything they’ve ever wanted…
“This was a fun story. I liked the dynamic between the leads but also the friend group dynamic.” --Rebecca Rose
“In "Guarding Her Heart," readers are taken on another swoon-worthy tour with the ever-popular Latin rock band, Tenura, this time following the amorous behind the scenes adventures of Niloo and Travis.” --The Bookshelf Corner
“Every single bit of this book was enjoyable.” --MGB Grandma
“This is a fun book to read. The characters are funny and flirty and provide tons of entertainment.” --SIMATSU
“I absolutely love this book. It was such a great read for me.” --Wolf Girl 812
“I really enjoyed this one. Nihloo and Travis were great as a couple, their chemistry felt authentic.” --2 T Reads
“LOVED this book. Great representation, great storyline, and a quick read.” --Dannie Lynn Fountain
"An absolutely beautiful friends to lovers story.” --Rosee Reads
“[R]eally cute!” --Kait’s Reading Journey
Guarding Her Heart is a heartwarming romance with a happy ending. However, the story includes some elements that might not be suitable for every reader. Grief and grieving, death of a parent in character backstory, and suicide of a loved one are mentioned in the story. Readers who may be sensitive to these elements, please take note.
Negeen Papehn was born and raised in southern California, where she currently lives with her husband and two boys. She wasn’t always a writer. A graduate of USC dental school, Negeen spends half of her week with patients and the other half in front of her laptop. In the little time she finds in between, she loves to socialize, hang out with friends, throw parties, and relax with her family. She writes own voices contemporary romances where she strives to show her readers a glimpse into her Iranian heritage.
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