by Meg Ripley
“How long have you been up?”
“Since about two,” she replied sheepishly. “What time is it?”
“A little after seven. Maybe you should lay off the coffee and go back to bed. You’ve got a long day ahead of you.” Damien opened the fridge, trying to decide what to make for himself and Stephanie.
Brianna let out a sigh. “I can’t. I’ve got too many things to do. I still haven’t decided exactly what I want to wear. Mitch took me shopping last night after rehearsal.”
“Oh?” Damien suppressed the surge of jealousy that shot up from the pit of his stomach. It made sense that the other guys in the band would want her to look her best. “That was nice of him.”
“It was.” She came around the breakfast bar to pour herself another cup of coffee, a wistful smile curling her lips. “He said he knew some great places for the right kinds of clothes. Not the Rodeo Drive sort of thing, but little underground, out of the way shops that sell one-of-a-kind pieces. One of the places is owned by a dragoness, and some of her vintage garments actually go centuries back.”
“Interesting. Well, I hope you stayed in the decent neighborhoods. It only takes a block or two in the wrong direction to end up in trouble.” He sounded like such a dad, but it was true. And he didn’t know anything about Mitch except that he was a great drummer—and human. Would he be able to keep Brianna safe?
“We were fine,” came her vague reply, “and I ended up with several outfits. I figured I might as well get more than one, since I would probably need them. But it’s so hard to decide. Could you take a look at them for me later? Give me your professional opinion?”
As Damien retrieved the milk and reached for a sippy cup for Stephanie, he started to nod automatically. It was part of his job to make sure that his signees did well that night. But then a lucid vision came across his mind, one where he stood in Brianna’s room while she modeled the outfits for him. She hadn’t asked for anything that intimate. She could just bring them down on the hangers to the kitchen. But he could practically hear himself saying, “No, you need to put them on. They don’t look the same on the rack.” And that implied her changing clothes and him openly examining her body. He couldn’t do it; not without taunting his inner beast. “I’m sure whatever you pick will be fine. You have good taste.”
She frowned slightly and returned to the table. “I hope you’re right. I’ve looked through every magazine I can get my hands on and I’ve watched every music video they’ve played on MTV. I’m trying to figure out what really makes the right look for a lead singer, but everyone is just so different.”
Damien set a bowl of Lucky Charms in front of Stephanie and came around to lean on the other side of the table. “Well, that’s just it.”
“What?” She looked up at him, confused and almost alarmed.
“You don’t want to be like everyone else. You want to be you. That’s what everyone is going to love. Don’t worry about fashion or what other singers are doing. You’ve got a natural talent, and it completely takes over you when you’re behind the mic. Rely on that, and just wear what makes you happy.” He didn’t know exactly where the words had come from. It was probably a mix of years of pep talks to clients and his true feelings about just how good Brianna was.
Still, she seemed to take it just as sincerely as he meant it. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”
“No, that’s just the truth. Now, then. Have you had breakfast?” He headed back toward the fridge, relieved he could look away from that gorgeous face of hers for a moment.
“I haven’t. I’m too nervous.”
“Too bad,” Damien replied. “If you insist on being up, then you at least have to be fed. I can’t have my newest talent passing out on stage during her first concert. I’m no gourmet chef, but I think there are some frozen pancakes in here, and I can whip up a few scrambled eggs to go with them.”
“You’re very kind.” That soft lilt in her voice was evident even when she only spoke a few words, and it made him weak in the knees. It went away as soon as she started singing, which happened with many vocalists. It made him feel as though her real voice was a secret that just the two of them shared, even though he knew that wasn’t true.
“Don’t say that until you’ve actually eaten my cooking,” he warned. “Now tell me: what are those papers you’re studying so intensely? You’re going to put wrinkles in your forehead before you’re thirty.”
“Just the song lyrics,” she replied, and he could hear the shuffle of the stack as he cracked an egg into a bowl.
“You’ve been practicing for several weeks. I’m sure you know them by now.” He mixed a little milk into the eggs, followed by salt, pepper and garlic. It wasn’t going to be anything fancy, but he knew Brianna wouldn’t mind. She wasn’t a high-maintenance woman like everyone else in the area.
She sighed again. “I do. I’m just so afraid of what might happen when we’re actually in front of an audience. It’s one thing to sing in the studio; I’ve gotten to the point where I really like that. But nobody is watching me there but Mike, and he usually looks like he’s about to fall asleep.”
Damien had to laugh at that. “True, but you’ll be fine. I know you will, or I wouldn’t have arranged this whole thing. I’ve been in this business a long time, and I like to think that I know what I’m doing. Get yourself lost in the song, and nothing else will matter. Breakfast is ready.”
As he turned around to hand her plate to her, he found that she had already come around into the food prep area. Those sapphire eyes were liquid as she looked at him, accepting the plate without looking. “I hope you’re right.”
“I know I am,” he replied slowly. Time stopped for a moment as he drank in the sight of her. She had been stellar in some of the new outfits she had bought, and she really knew how to do her hair and makeup to flatter her natural beauty. But even in her pajamas and a robe with no makeup or hairspray, she was a goddess. He had been worshiping at the altar of her beauty since he had first picked her up at the airport, but he had tried to deny his religion so many times. Just kiss her, he thought. Just knock the plate aside, wrap your arms around her waist, and plant one on her. Let her know what you feel now, right now while she’s standing here looking so normal and innocent, before she makes it big and thinks you’re only riding along on her coattails. Because she’s about to disappear out of your life, and you’re going to regret it.
And he could see himself doing that so easily. But in his fantasy, she instantly kissed him back, her passion just as deep as his. There was no guarantee that she would reciprocate like that, and he couldn’t ruin that night for her. Maybe he could tell her some other time, but not now.
He turned away to pour himself a cup of coffee from the pot she had made. It was going to be a long day.
* * *
Later that night, Damien pulled up to the back entrance of Bliss Nightclub, one of the premier spots for small concerts. Everyone wanted to play there, from acts just starting out and trying to get noticed to big-time groups who enjoyed more intimate venues. Fortunately, it was also owned by Damien’s good friend Jackson, which gave Damien the chance to not only try out his newly-signed bands, but discover new talent that hadn’t been picked up yet.
He knocked on the door, and a bouncer let them in immediately, his golden reptilian eyes on high alert, giving them both the once over. “Just remember that I know the owner,” Damien said as he guided her to the green room. “If there’s anything you need, all you have to do is ask. If you want a bottle of water or a can of hairspray, whatever. It’ll all get charged to the studio, so don’t worry about money.”
“Anything else I should know before we go on? Any tips for stage fright?”
He paused in front of the door lounge. She stood with her back to it, looking at him expectantly. Brianna had spent almost two hours getting ready, and it showed. Her hair had been curled and sprayed into place, with most of it flipped over to the right side to give it an asymmetrical lo
ok. Green leggings and a crop top matched the deep green of her eyeshadow, and a denim jacket over the outfit kept it just a little on the modest side while still showing off that amazing body of hers. For someone who had been so nervous about how she would dress, she had pulled it off without a hitch. It was a completely different look than he had ever seen her wear around the house. He started to tell her so as a compliment, but decided against it.
“Just be yourself. That’s already worked before.” Once again, his dragon begged to kiss her.
But the door behind her opened, revealing Mitch. “Hey, there’s the girl of the hour!” he shouted as she turned to him. The drummer put his arm around her waist in a manner that looked all too familiar to Damien and guided her into the green room. “You look great, by the way.”
Instantly, Damien felt as though he was no longer a part of this thing he had created. He had introduced Brianna to the band, and they had taken her from him. It was a process that he was only assisting, and it couldn’t be stopped now. Like someone had already pushed the big red button that would launch the nuclear weapon, he couldn’t do anything but stand by and watch.
He cleared his throat. “I’ll be out front with Jackson. If you need me, just let one of the stage hands know.”
“Thanks!” Mitch replied for her as he waved Brianna to an open seat on the couch.
Empty inside, Damien turned and threaded his way through the building. The backstage area was crowded with the bands who would be playing that night. The Mixups were scheduled to play at the busiest hour of the night, but Jackson always had as many acts crammed in to his schedule as he could. As he stepped out into the dining area, he could see the place was already hopping. The crush of bodies was suppressive, and he had a difficult time getting around to the bar.
Jackson was standing behind it, his arms folded across his chest as he had a discussion with his bartender about the temperature of the beer cooler. “I’ll get someone in here to look at it as soon as I can. For right now, I think it’s staying just cold enough to get us through the night. Damien! I was hoping you would come.”
Damien shook his hand, glad to see his old friend again. People came and went in the industry, but Jackson had always been steady as a rock. As a shifter himself, Jackson had a loyalty to his fellow dragons that ran deep. “You know I wouldn’t miss a performance by one of my own.”
“I hear it’s even more than that.” Jackson raised an eyebrow as he turned to pick up a drink he had set down behind the bar. With his wavy hair and the perfect amount of stubble on his chin, he looked every bit the debonair proprietor of an exclusive nightclub.
Helping himself to a bottle of water from the mini fridge, Damien knew what was coming. It was the only thing that anyone wanted to talk about anymore, and it was starting to drive him crazy. “I know what you’re going to say, but it’s not like that.”
“You sure about that?” Jackson asked skeptically. He pointed at one of the promotional posters that had been printed up for the concert. They had been pasted all over town, and this one sat in a frame on an easel near the door. “I’ve seen her photo. If she’s half as good looking in real life, then she must be irresistible.”
Damien pulled in a breath. “Jack, you ought to know me better than that. I’ve always been professional about these sorts of things. I see beautiful women all the time. Some have literally thrown themselves at me, just hoping for the chance to sing. I’ve never succumbed to any of them before, so why should I now?” It was a question he had asked himself a few times over the last several weeks.
Jackson polished off the last of his drink and set the glass down on the counter. “Don’t ask me. I’m just telling you what I see and what others have seen.”
“I don’t like the sound of that. I guess I’ve been a victim of the rumor mill?”
“Whether or not you’re a victim just depends on how you feel about the rumor, I suppose. Last year, someone saw me out on a date with a blonde and thought she was Daryl Hannah. She wasn’t, but the next thing I knew I had more people coming to Bliss than I’d ever seen before. My guess is they were all hoping to get a glimpse of a celebrity. It didn’t bother me, because they were paying the cover charge and buying drinks while they looked for her.” He grinned and looked out over the floor, clearly pleased that his luck continued.
“Since Brianna isn’t anything close to being a celebrity yet, I’m not sure why everyone cares. I’m not dating her, and I’m sure as hell not sleeping with her. She works for me, and now I’m screwing myself out of a good nanny by giving her and the band a recording contract. It’s purely professional. As a matter of fact, I think she might have something going on with the drummer.” It pained him a little to admit that out loud, but it was better to make amends with the idea now. He took a drink of water, wishing he had grabbed something a little stronger. It was usually his policy to stay sober when he came to concerts. He wanted to be able to handle any situation that might arise, but he wasn’t sure it would be wise for him on that particular night.
Jackson nodded. “I get that, and I believe you. But I’m telling you, people are talking. Gordon was just in here the other night talking about what a sweet piece of ass you were keeping at your house and how you told him you’d been fucking her long before Linda ever moved out. Bringing her on as a nanny was just an excuse to have her around all the time.”
“Great. Another one of Linda’s lies.” He crunched his free hand into a fist as a fine tendril of smoke escaped from one nostril. “I knew Gordon was a prick, but I didn’t think even he would go that far. For the record, that’s the complete opposite of what I told him. I ought to go track him down and rip his throat out.”
“Easy there, tiger.” Jackson clapped him on the shoulder. “I know it sucks, but people like Gordon and Linda don’t really matter. It’ll all blow over. People get bored quickly around here, and they’ll find someone else to talk about.”
“You’re right. Anything you need me to do before the concert starts?” It made Damien antsy to stand around doing nothing. There was little left to do, considering the stagehands would be setting up all the mics and instruments and someone was already taking tickets at the door.
“Not really. Well…” Jackson paused, his nose tipping slightly into the air as he looked around the room.
“What is it?”
The nightclub owner shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t quite explain it. It’s like there’s this tense feeling in the air tonight. I thought it was just because there’s been so much buzz about your band; you’ve done a great job promoting them, by the way. But it’s something else.”
Damien didn’t reply right away, looking out over the crowd and waiting for an indication of that same tension to come across his senses. He noticed it right away, and he wanted to kick himself for not realizing it until Jackson had said something. But he had been distracted by Brianna when he’d come in, and then he had only been further distracted by talk of her. He was going to have to find a way to get her off his mind. “Yeah. I see what you mean. What do you think it is?”
“I’m not sure, but it’s really been bugging me. You have to be careful in this business. A good night can turn into a horrible one in no time. If I get some asshole in here who wants to start a fight with a guy for looking at him the wrong way, it can break out into a major brawl. I don’t do well when people come in here and get hurt.” He scanned the joint slowly.
“Have you had any issues lately? Some pissed off worker who missed out on a promotion? Or maybe a band who was angry when you didn’t book them?” Damien knew Jackson treated his workers well. In fact, he was probably one of the more generous proprietors in the club business, since so many of them mistreated their staff. But it was still possible. Damien had received death threats at his office more than once when someone didn’t get a recording contract.
Jackson shrugged. “Not that I know of. I went ahead and ordered extra security, a great group of young shifters wit
h good heads on their shoulders. They’re big guys, and they’ve got great instincts. You probably saw one of them at the back door.”
“I did. Congratulations.”
“What about your girl? Is she a shifter, too?”
Damien nodded. “She is.”
“You ever see her as a dragon? I’m sorry, I know you don’t like people talking about what your relationship with her might be, and I don’t mean it like that. But it’s occurred to me lately that even though Hollywood and Beverly Hills are full of shifters, you almost never see them shift. What’s the point if you’re staying in human form all the time?”
“Not a bad question,” Damien agreed with a bob of his head to the side. “First of all, I’ve only ever seen her as a human. The only reason I even know she’s a dragon is because I could just sense it, but I’ve not seen so much as a claw or a scale. As for the rest of it, I think it’s just about confidence and power. We know we can do anything we want to, and that creates a certain energy that’s just unmistakable.” He didn’t even think about his own reptilian qualities very often unless he was particularly angry and his body threatened to morph. He wondered what Brianna would look like in her other form; probably just as stunning.
Jackson gestured toward the stage, where a hair metal band was just coming out with their guitars. “Looks like the show is about to start. I’m heading upstairs to my private table on the balcony. Want to join me?”
He was tempted to slip backstage one more time to check on Brianna, but he knew he would be no use to her. “Sure, especially since I know it’s the best seat in the house and the drinks are free,” he replied with a forced smile.
Chapter Ten
Brianna took a deep, trembling breath. She and the guys could hear the band that was currently onstage. Were the Mixups that good, or would they completely bomb in front of a live audience? Either way, at least she knew she had made some great friends. She had grown close to the guys over the last few weeks, and it was comforting to know she wasn’t in this alone.
