by A. M. Myers
“Are you planning on pre-cooking anything or will everything be cooked the day of? Do you have a plan to accommodate the thousand guests who have already RSVP’d yes?”
He nods and launches into his plan for the day of the event, explaining what things can be made early to save the kitchen some time and when he’s finished, I stand and hold my hand out to him.
“That sounds good, Chef. I look forward to tasting the dishes you’ve come up with.”
He shakes my hand and I check the time on my phone before turning back to Ronald.
“We should probably get back to the ballroom.”
He nods. “Of course, Miss Dawson.”
Ronald leads me back through the kitchen as my phone buzzes with another text from Jenna, letting me know that she just arrived at the hotel and I text her back to tell her that I’ll meet her in the ballroom. As Ronald and I turn down the hallway to the room, Jenna emerges on the other side, being led by a young man who must be Ronald’s assistant.
“Miss Bueachamp, how lovely to see you again,” Ronald says as we all stop at the entrance to the ballroom and she smiles.
“Hello, Ronald.” She turns to me. “Quinn.”
“Hi, Jenna. Shall we get started?”
Her eyes light up and she turns to the ballroom. “Yes, please. I can’t wait to see what you’ve come up.”
Ronald leads the three of us into the ballroom and over to the table I left my binder on earlier. As Jenna and I sit down, Ronald and his assistant step back to let us talk in private and I grab the binder, flipping it open to the first page so she can see the two themes I’ve come up with for the event.
“Now, I know you said you wanted something different from the usual “stuffy” charity events you see so I’ve come up with two different ideas for you but I will need your choice today so I can get everything prepped in time.”
She nods. “That won’t be a problem. Let’s see them.”
“This is the first,” I say, pointing to some reference photos I have for the roaring twenties theme I came up with.
“Ooh!” she exclaims. “I really like this.”
“And this is the second idea.” I flip the page to point to the photos for my second idea, a masquerade ball.
“Damn it, Quinn. You’re going to make a liar out of me! I don’t know how I’m ever going to choose.”
I laugh as I flip the next page. “You don’t have to decide quite yet. Just mull it over while we go over the rest of this.”
“Okay.”
“This,” I say, pointing to the page in front of her, “is the artwork I’ve been able to secure for the charity auction. We have about twenty pieces right now.”
“Oh my god. That’s amazing.”
I laugh, nodding. “Turns out, people are much more willing to help when you mention it’s for children.”
She laughs and I flip the page, pointing out each piece and its value before we go over the guest list. By the time we finish, the band I scheduled to audition walks in and Ronald leads them to the stage where they can set up.
“As for the music, we can either go with this band, The Renegades, or a DJ and I’ve got each coming to show you what they can do for you today.”
She nods, gazing up at the band as they set up. “Perfect. I’m so impressed with all you’ve been able to accomplish, Quinn.”
“I’m glad you’re happy with everything,” I tell her, pride welling up in my chest.
“Of course! Your reputation in this town is well deserved and I’ll be letting all my friends know about you. With any luck, you’ll be booked for the next year straight.”
I smile. “That would be amazing.”
“Miss Dawson, Miss Bueachamp,” Ronald says quietly as he approaches the table. “The band is ready.”
“Let them know they can start.”
Ronald nods and heads back toward the stage. He gives the band a thumbs up and the lead singer steps up to the microphone as a low beat pulses through the room. They start off with something a little more upbeat before transitioning into a slower song that will be perfect for slow dancing.
“What do you think?” I ask, turning to Jenna as she bobs her head along to the beat.
“They’re good and there’s just something about a live band, don’t you think?”
I nod. “I couldn’t agree more. We can even see if they would be willing to just do the instrumental bit if you didn’t want everyone focused on the band all night long.”
“Yeah,” she agrees. “That sounds like a good idea.”
I stand and hold my hand up to signal the band and the music slowly fades away. “Thank you for coming out today, y’all. Can we have a word with you over here?”
“Sure,” the lead singer says into the microphone, flashing me a panty-melting grin as he takes a step back and unplugs his guitar. All four band members walk across the ballroom to our table.
“You guys sounded great,” I tell them, ignoring the lingering gaze of the lead singer as it trails down my legs. “But we were wondering if you would be willing to just do instrumental versions of your songs and some covers on the night of the gala. This is a charity event for the children’s hospital and as fantastic as you all are, we need to keep the focus on the kids.”
Lead singer guy opens his mouth and I can tell from the pure disgust on his face that he’s going to reject that idea but the drummer steps forward and thrusts out his hand.
“That won’t be a problem at all.”
I smile and shake his hand. “Perfect. We have one more person to audition but I should have an answer for you all by the end of the day.”
“Thank you,” he murmurs before they all turn and head back to the stage to pack up their things. My new admirer turns halfway across the room and winks at me before turning back to the stage and I sigh as I sink into my chair.
“Well, someone’s certainly interested in you,” Jenna comments, her gaze on the stage and I fight the urge to roll my eyes.
“He seems like the type that’s interested in anything with a pair of tits.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. A blush creeps up my cheeks as Jenna turns to me with her lips parted in an “O” before she starts laughing.
“Tell me how you really feel, Quinn,” she sputters through her laughter and my blush deepens. God, it’s been so long since I’ve had a girlfriend to talk to that I blurted out exactly what I was thinking before I could stop myself.
“I’m so sorry. That was so unprofessional.”
She waves her hand through the air, dismissing my concern. “Don’t worry about it. Besides, I think you might be right.”
I glance up as the lead singer blows a kiss to one of the waitresses carrying trays of food across the room to our table.
Typical.
“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is one of the many reasons I’m single,” I mutter and Jenna laughs again.
“Girl, I hear you!”
I smile as Ronald stops at the edge of the table with three waitresses, each holding a tray of food.
“Ladies, Chef Thomas has prepared three different meal options for you to choose from. Enjoy!”
He steps back and the first waitress sets her tray down on the table, revealing the two domes underneath before setting one in front of each of us. We work our way through each tray, discussing what Jenna likes and what she doesn’t before we finally get the menu nailed down and move on to auditioning the DJ. Jenna and I agree that he’s talented but ultimately she decides to go with the band and I make a note to have Willa call them. After going over the guest list and a rough schedule of events for the evening, I grab my binder and slap it closed.
“So, do you have an answer for me on the theme?”
She purses her lips, gazing around the room like she’s trying to visualize the space. “I’m thinking with this venue, we have to go with the roaring twenties theme. It just fits this space so well.”
“I absolutely agree.”
“I’
m going to have to throw another event so I can use that masquerade theme though,” she replies, pointing her finger at me as she laughs. I nod with a wide grin on my face.
“Anytime.”
She claps her hands together with a bright smile. “I’m so excited! I can’t wait to see what you do with this event.”
“I suppose that means I should get back to the office and start working,” I answer as I stand up and grab my bag and binder. She joins me and Ronald approaches us.
“Ladies, can I escort you out?”
I nod. “Yes, please, Ronald. Thank you for all your help today.”
“Don’t mention it, ma’am. The two of you are always so pleasant to work with.”
We follow him out of the ballroom and I frown at the sight of the band’s lead singer leaning up against the wall, flicking through his phone. When we pass by him, he glances up and I turn away.
“Sweetheart,” he calls, his deep voice like melted caramel. I turn to look at him with a lifted brow.
“Do you really think it’s okay to call a woman you don’t know “sweetheart”?” I ask and he shrugs as he pushes off the wall and approaches us.
“Don’t know your name so what was I supposed to say to get your attention?”
Jenna scoffs next to me as I roll my eyes and take a step back from him. “Literally, anything else.”
He takes a step toward me and the hair on my arms stands on end. He’s too pushy and I don’t like it. When he flashes me that cocky smile I’m sure has worked for him almost every other time in his life, I hold my hand up.
“Your band got the gig and my assistant will call you tomorrow with all the details. You’ll need to make arrangements to come in and sign the contract but is there anything else I can do for you right now?”
He nods. “Yeah, how about your number?”
“Have a good evening, Mr…”
“You can just call me Nick, babe,” he replies.
“Have a good evening, Nick, and I’ll be in touch about the event,” I reply, turning away from him and nodding to Ronald to lead the way. He casts a wary glance over my shoulder before he turns away with a determined expression, leading Jenna and I toward the exit.
“He was so hot,” Jenna comments, fanning herself dramatically. “Why didn’t you give him your number?”
Shaking my head, I suck in a breath. “The answer to that question is complicated.”
“Isn’t it always?”
We reach the lobby and Ronald turns to us with a smile. “This is where I bid you adieu, ladies.”
“Thank you for all your help today, Ronald.”
“Of course, Miss Dawson. I notified the valets we were coming so your cars should be out front.” We shake hands with the promise to be in touch next week to go over details before Jenna and I walk out into the bright afternoon sunlight where our cars are waiting just as Ronald said. I check my phone and let out a sigh of relief when I see the time.
3:45 p.m.
Brooklyn’s only been in daycare for about forty-five minutes and it eases my guilt over her being there at all. If I had it my way, she wouldn’t ever leave my side no matter how unhealthy it is.
“Bye, Quinn,” Jenna calls as she opens her car door and I wave as I open the door to the Maxima and climb inside. The Night The Lights Went Out in Georgia by Reba McEntire is playing as I start the car and I start singing along as I pull away from the hotel and turn toward Brooklyn’s daycare, eager to see my baby girl again.
Chapter Two
Lucas
Gasping for air, I jerk forward in bed as my eyes fly open and sweat trickles down my cheek. Images from years ago flick through my mind and I pull my knees to my chest, squeezing my eyes shut until I see white dots dancing behind my eyelids. I try to fight back the memories but I’m assaulted from all angles and no matter how hard I try, I can’t forget. The smell of rain from that night is so strong that I would swear it was real if it wasn’t for the sunlight streaming in through the window and warming my skin. My stomach turns as I remember the clap of thunder that shook the walls of my bedroom just seconds before my whole life changed and I suck in a breath.
Fuck.
I can’t keep doing this.
Exhaling slowly, I let my legs fall back to the mattress and run a hand through my hair as I move to the edge of the bed and turn my focus to my phone on the bedside table. I grab it and pause when I notice the date in the corner.
Mom.
Gritting my teeth, I shake my head in an attempt to clear the memories and pain as I open my messages and let out a curse. The last three texts I sent my brother, Clay, remain unanswered and worry eats away at me as I grip the phone tighter and resist the urge to chuck it against the wall. Where the hell is he? My mind drifts to the last three places I’ve found him, each one worse than the one before and I wonder how long before I’ll be getting the one call I have been dreading for years. Anger floods my system, mixing with the fear that’s been a constant in my life lately and I toss my phone to the bed before dropping my head into my hands. My life is such a goddamn mess and I don’t have a clue how to fix it.
Yelling from downstairs grabs my attention and my head jerks up. I stare at the closed door of my bedroom for a second before throwing the covers off my legs and grabbing my jeans off the floor. The silence that follows is eerie and it makes every hair on my arm stand on end as I pull a shirt over my head and grab my gun from the dresser, inspecting it.
I first joined the Bayou Devils MC ten years ago when it was a true outlaw club, running guns, drugs, and anything else that would make us money. Carrying a piece back then was life or death. Looking back, it’s hard to believe that I used to be that guy but at the time, I didn’t care about anything but making as much money as I could. After everything I’d been through, I wanted that security. About seven years back, the club fell into chaos. Our president, Blaze, was shot and our brother, Henn, was arrested for selling drugs and is still locked up to this day. Everything changed after that. Blaze wanted to take the club in a different direction and I think in some ways, a lot of us were relieved to go legitimate after so many years of risking it all. But it still feels weird to not have a gun on me at all times.
Tucking the gun into my waistband, I grab my phone off the bed and open the door, scanning the empty hallway before stepping out. Voices drift up from downstairs and I follow them down the steps, stopping when I see everyone gathered in the bar. Moose is off to one side, leaning up against the wall and I join him, nodding my hello.
“What’s going on?” I whisper and he shakes his head before nodding to Detective Rodriguez as he sits in the middle of the room with his head in his hands.
“It’s Laney.”
The club first met Detective Rodriguez three years ago when he was a key player in a case we had a vested interest in and after some initial tension, we all realized that we could benefit from working together. We help him out when we can and he does the same for us when we need a little assistance. Most people balk at the idea of the police working with a group of bikers but with our new mission to help folks, it made sense to us and it’s served both sides well ever since. A few months ago, he called on us to help him keep watch over a woman who was being stalked. We only found out later that Laney, the woman, was someone Rodriguez was in a relationship with but that didn’t really matter to any of us. We helped her all the same and Rodriguez arrested her stalker only a month ago.
“What about her?”
Moose meets my eyes and from just a look, I know the news isn’t good. “She’s dead.”
Fuck.
“How? What happened?”
He shakes his head. “Don’t know. Rodriguez came home from work around eleven this morning and found her in a pool of blood in the kitchen.”
“Did Owen make bail?” I ask, referencing the man Rodriguez just arrested for stalking her. Moose shakes his head.
“Naw. He’s locked up tight.”
I blow out a breath. “Fuck.
”
Moose nods in agreement and we both turn as Rodriguez stands and kicks his chair behind him. It falls with a crash but no one moves.
“It doesn’t make sense! I got the guy. She should have been safe.”
Blaze steps forward and slaps a hand on his shoulder as Rodriguez braces his hands on the table in front of him. “Are you sure you got the right guy?”
“Yes,” Rodriguez snaps, meeting Blaze’s eyes with rage lighting up his gaze. Blaze nods.
“Okay. We’ll help you figure this out, Diego.”
Rodriguez sinks into a different chair and releases a breath as his whole body seems to deflate. He and Laney haven’t been seeing each other all that long but he seems to have really cared about her. He pulls in a stuttered breath as he shakes his head.
“I promised her I would keep her safe and now she’s gone.”
Storm sits across from him. “You couldn’t have known, man. This is just a fluke accident.”
“Don’t tell me you actually believe that,” he growls, glancing up at Storm, who shrugs.
“If you’re telling us that you are sure you’ve got the right guy locked up, what else am I supposed to think?”
Rodriguez shakes his head. “I don’t know what the fuck to think.”
“We’re here for you,” Chance adds, stepping forward in silent support. “But obsessing over it right now, when it’s still so fresh, isn’t going to do anyone any good.”
“It can’t wait,” Rodriguez answers, his voice on the verge of breaking and I blow out a breath. Chance is right. I remember pain like that and there’s no way Rodriguez is thinking clearly right now but I also know how that agony fuels the drive to find answers. It’s enough to drive you crazy if you let it.
“Storm, grab a bottle from behind the bar,” Blaze instructs and Storm stands as Blaze pulls another chair over to the table and sinks into it. “We’ll work this out.”
A few of the guys disperse as Storm and Fuzz gather around Rodriguez and throw back a shot in honor of Laney. Pushing off the wall, I check the time on my phone and shake my head. It’s damn near three in the afternoon so if Clay went out last night, he should be waking up right about now and I need to go look for him. Blaze glances up as I approach the table and I nod to him.
