by Hazel Jacobs
That, in itself, is enough of a reason for her not to take his flirting too seriously.
Sersha joins Dash as he mingles through the room.
“Where are Mikayla and Logan?” she asks as he sweeps through people, keeping her arm tight in the crook of his elbow so that she doesn’t get lost.
“Probably fucking in the bathroom,” Dash replies dryly. “Those two are like rabbits, I swear to God.”
He takes her around, shaking hands with people and smiling like he goes to these sorts of things all the time. Sersha is amazed. She thought that of all the men in the band, Dash would be the least likely to fit in at a charity gala. But Mikayla must have been right—they must have gotten good at faking it. He laughs at the jokes that are told to him, introduces Sersha as the band’s new lyricist, and makes the rounds before returning to the edge of the stage.
“So why did you join the band?” Sersha asks when they’re alone again. “I know the others were in school together.”
“I’m only a year younger,” Dash says. Then he grins. “I actually would never have been allowed in the band if Mom hadn’t told Logan to let me.”
“Really?”
Dash puts on a high, shrill voice, “Logan Todd, you let your brother play with you or I’ll take away the microphone and no one can be in a band!”
Sersha laughs as he finishes his impression. “Oh, your poor brother.”
“My poor brother she says,” he grumbles.
She’s about to ask how the Todd’s mother feels about the band’s success, before she remembers that she read an interview once where the boys talked about their mother. About the fact that she wasn’t around for most of their late teens. About how Logan had worked so that Dash could finish high school.
“So you wanted to be in the band, then?”
“Only because Logan wouldn’t let me,” Dash replies. “Then, I dunno, I kind of fell in love with it.” He shrugs. “Can’t imagine what I’d be doing if I weren’t doing this.”
“Professional hugging?”
“Professional whating?”
Tommy sidles up to them, sending an annoyed look to Sersha as she smiles brightly and explains the phenomenon of professional hugging.
“So you just… call these people, and they come to your house and hug you?” Dash says with a weird smile.
“Sounds like a front for hookers,” says Tommy, sipping his champagne.
“No, it’s a real thing. People get touch starved. You know? And when that happens they get depressed. Professional huggers just make them feel less lonely.”
“For a fee,” Tommy says.
“Well, a hugger has to eat.”
Dash finishes his champagne and leans over to let it sit on the stage. “I like it,” he says. “Professional hugger. Maybe when I retire.”
“I’m sure there are dozens of girls who would pay to hug you in your prime,” Tommy says slyly. “Why not throw up an ad on Craigslist and see what happens?”
“Don’t tempt me.”
The three of them laugh together. Out of the corner of her eye, Sersha can see Slate with two pretty waitresses—different waitresses from the ones he’d been talking to before. Mikayla and Logan are still MIA.
How long does a fuck in the bathroom take? She thinks.
A deep, throaty voice calls out from the crowd, “Tommy?”
The change in the man is so sudden that Sersha almost feels as though she has whiplash from the sight of it. Tommy goes from loose and relaxed to rigid. His back jerks and his hand clenches so hard on his champagne glass that Sersha wonders how he hasn’t broken the flute. Beside her, Dash tenses as well.
Both men turn toward the voice. Sersha turns as well. Walking toward them is a beautiful, dark-eyed woman with long black hair and a shy, unsure smile.
Tommy’s whole body shivers. Sersha can feel it in the arm he has pressed against her. He whispers a name so low that she almost doesn’t catch it over the sounds of people chatting and laughing around them.
“Danielle.”
Tommy and Dash are both frozen. Sersha feels herself starting to tense too, not aware of why but knowing that the two men are reacting against the woman striding toward them.
She’s wearing a long red dress that looks like she was poured into it, with her voluptuous curves fully on display, and her tanned skin looks like it was mixed with caramel and cream. Sersha has to refrain from reaching up to touch her own hair—the woman approaching them has hers done in elegant waves, the kinds of waves that Sersha could only ever dream of. As she walks toward them, Sersha catches sight of the impossibly high heels on her feet.
“Tommy,” she says again, once she’s close enough to speak in a normal voice instead of shouting over the people around them. Her dark eyes are wide and hopeful as she looks at the bass player. “It’s good to see you again.”
Tommy’s hand is clenched so tightly on his champagne flute that Sersha really is worried that he’ll break it. She reaches over to pluck it out of his hand, setting it down on the stage behind them.
The woman’s eyes turn to Sersha. “I don’t think we’ve met,” she says. There’s an edge to her voice. Though Sersha isn’t sure what, exactly, it is an edge off.
“I’m Sersha Walsh,” Sersha replies. “I’m… ah… I’m Tommy’s assistant lyricist.”
She holds out her hand but she doesn’t accept it. “Danielle Dawson,” she says.
Sersha lets her hand hang in the air for a moment longer before allowing it to fall to her side. “So how do you all know each other?” she asks. She keeps her voice determinedly light, even though she’s burning with curiosity and a little bit concerned for Tommy. The color is rising in his cheeks, and there’s something lost in his expression as he looks from Danielle to his shoes to the crowd around him.
Sersha’s voice seems to jolt Dash out of his haze. He reaches around to put a hand on Sersha’s back, as though she’s an anchor keeping him grounded, and when he speaks his voice is breathy and hoarse.
“Danielle was our PA before Mik,” he tells Sersha. His face suddenly goes stern. His eyebrows draw together and his lips trail into a thin line. Sersha blinks dumbly when she see it, it’s an expression she’d never have expected on Dash Todd’s face. Pure anger doesn’t suit him. “How much money did you end up stealing from us, Danielle? Logan never actually gave me a number.”
Danielle looks taken aback. “He said that he wouldn’t mention it if I left,” she says. Then she grimaces like she hadn’t meant to say it. “I mean—”
“No, tell me more about the deal you and Logan struck,” Dash snaps.
Sersha feels Tommy’s breath hitch. She doesn’t want to look directly at him. She doesn’t want to draw attention to whatever he’s feeling, to make a spectacle of him when he’s clearly distressed. Instead, she slides just a little bit to the right so that her arm is in front of him. It isn’t quite a shield. She can’t shield him without making it obvious that it’s what she’s doing. But she hopes that he recognizes the gesture.
“Dash…” Danielle says, leaning forward and ducking her head in a submissive gesture. “I’m sorry you had to find out like that. There were circumstances—”
“Bullshit,” Dash says harshly.
Sersha isn’t sure that she likes this side of the guitarist. She prefers the happy-go-lucky, slightly immature man to the bitter, cold one on her left.
Danielle sighs as though she was expecting this reaction, as though she’s being victimized. “Tommy,” she says, turning her attention to him and ignoring Dash. “I understand if you’re angry. Especially if Logan told you… well… can I at least tell you my side of the story?”
Tommy blinks at the woman. All around them, people are talking and laughing, showing off their bright jewels and lipstick, oblivious to the tension in the group by the stage. Sersha catches sight of Slate on the other side of the room and when he makes eye contact with her, she jerks her head toward Danielle. Slate squints at the back of the woman’s h
ead. Then his eyes go wide. He excuses himself from the two women he’d been speaking to and disappears into the crowd. Sersha doesn’t have the chance to wonder where he’s going.
Tommy is speaking, drawing her attention back. “Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of Dash.”
“And your little ‘assistant’?” Danielle asks. Danielle’s voice drips with sarcasm. Sersha can practically hear the air quotes. “Does she get to hear about our business?”
“She’ll be hearing about it soon enough,” Tommy says. His lips are dipped down again, more pronounced now, and there’s a shadow behind his eyes that makes him look tired and drained. “As soon as you’re gone, Dash will fill her in.” Sersha glances at Dash and he sends her a nod. “Of course, he’ll need Logan to help with some parts. We’re all still not sure of the entire story.”
“And why do you think that is?” asks Danielle. She holds her hands out, palms up. “Don’t you think it’s strange that he hasn’t told you the whole story?”
Tommy sighs. “He hasn’t told me the whole story because I asked him not to,” he says. “I didn’t want to know. I still don’t.”
Sersha wants to ask, but she knows that now is not the time. Whatever is going on here is clearly something deeply personal. Tommy presses against Sersha’s side, leaning in as though he needs her to hold himself up. She lets him, trying to stand as still as possible to give him something strong to hold onto. The movement isn’t lost on Danielle. She purses her lips and her dark eyes turn into slits as she stares at the spot where Tommy and Sersha’s bodies meet.
“Tommy,” she says, and now there’s a soft smile on her lips. “Tommy, I just want you to understand—”
“Understand?” Logan’s voice rings out.
Sersha feels herself relaxing. Logan and Slate are coming through the crowd, moving with as much haste as they can without drawing unnecessary attention. Slate looks grim, while Logan looks murderous. Neither are expressions that Sersha ever expected to see on their faces. She tries to stand on her tiptoes to see Mikayla, but she’s nowhere in sight.
Logan stands with Tommy. Slate stands with Dash, and Sersha is the very uncomfortable middle of the Black Lilith sandwich. She has never felt so remarkably out of place. She feels as though she ought to make herself scarce, but she worries that leaving now will just draw attention to the fact that she’s there. Besides—she’s curious. If nothing else, she wants to be available to give comfort if it’s needed.
Now that Logan and Slate are there, Tommy seems more relaxed. Dash’s lips are still set in an angry line, but he too seems to be less wound up. There’s strength in numbers and Black Lilith have been together so long that Sersha can feel the comfort coming off of Slate and Logan even though they haven’t said anything.
“Danielle,” Logan says, nodding to her.
Danielle’s lips curl. For a moment—the very briefest of flashes—she looks like she wants to hiss at Logan. Then her face smooths over into a placating smile.
“Logan.”
“Last I heard, you were in New Zealand.”
“I was,” she says. She straightens her back and pushes her breasts forward. None of the men look. “I’m working with a new band.”
“What are they called?” Logan asks. “I’ll tell them to keep an eye on their wallets.”
Danielle sighs in a long-suffering way. “They’re called Lost in Time.”
Both Logan, Slate, and Dash wince. Tommy doesn’t react.
“Lost in Time?” Logan demands. “As in the band that’ll be opening for us on our album release tour?”
Danielle smiles sweetly. Her teeth are so white that Sersha wonders if she should have sunglasses to look at them. Now that she’s looking properly, Sersha realizes that the thin necklace around the other woman’s neck seems to be made of tiny, clear stones. Diamonds, or what looks like them. Her ears are adorned with stones cut in the same style.
“Yes, they’re going to open for you on the tour,” she says. “It’s their first big show. They’re really excited.” Then she gives Logan a stern look. “I hope you’re not going to sabotage them because of what happened between us?”
Logan practically growls at her, “I’m not that kind of slimy, Danielle.”
“No, you’re the kind of slimy who tells me to dump my boyfriend and leave the country without even telling him why,” she snarls back. Her eyes fall back on Tommy and Sersha thinks she’s starting to understand what’s going on. Maybe. A little bit. There are still a few gaps in her understanding, though.
Logan doesn’t flinch. “Yeah, that was a dick move on my part. Mikayla says I need to work on my communication.”
“Who’s Mikayla?”
“That’d be me.”
Sersha is starting to wonder if the band practiced this. Both Logan and Mikayla seem to have perfect dramatic timing. Mikayla sweeps over with her hands on her hips and two guys in suits at her heels. Not Jack and Finn, the bodyguards, but two others—hired security for the venue if Sersha had to guess. They look scrawny and tired, but the Tasers on their belts look legit.
“I’m Black Lilith’s manager,” Mikayla says in a mock-sweet tone. “You’re not giving my boys a hard time, are you?”
“Why would I do that?” Danielle asks. Her tone changes to reflect Mikayla’s. She offers the other woman her hand, and the two of them shake. “I’m glad to get to meet you. Since we’ll be working together over the next month.”
“Yes… I saw your name on some emails, but I didn’t make the connection.”
It’s the most civilized catfight Sersha has ever witnessed. The two women seem to be trying to work out who can out-professional the other. Sersha would put her life savings on Mikayla. So far, Mikayla hasn’t balked.
Sersha glances cautiously at Tommy, who’s staring at the ground right next to Danielle’s feet. He doesn’t seem to be actually seeing the hardwood floor, his focus appears to be internal. Sersha can only imagine what’s going on inside his head. She taps the back of his hand with her ring finger. He glances over to her, gives her a strained smile, and looks away almost immediately.
“It was lovely meeting you,” Danielle says to Mikayla. She looks back at the band. “And good to see all of you again.” She conspicuously ignores Sersha, which makes Sersha infinitely glad. Instead, Danielle’s eyes linger on Tommy. “I’ll be seeing you all around.”
And then she’s gone, disappearing into the crowd with a sweep of perfect hair and cinnamon perfume.
The bubbles have gone out of the room. The band takes a moment to stare after her. As one, they turn inward and start checking on Tommy, who looks shell-shocked.
“Tommy… man, are you okay?” Dash asks, leaning around Sersha.
Mikayla thanks the security guards and sends them back to wherever it was that she’d co-opted them from. She comes forward and puts her hand on Tommy’s shoulder. He looks up at her and Sersha is struck by the vulnerability in his gaze.
“I’m fine,” he says, perhaps a little more emphatically than necessary. “I’m fine, really. I never… I mean… of course I was going to see her again eventually.”
“We should get on the horn to Lost in Time,” Logan says, speaking to Mikayla even as his concerned gaze remains firmly fixed on Tommy. “Let them know what they’re dealing with.”
“Better yet, let’s talk to her production company—” Mikayla begins, but Tommy cuts her off.
“Don’t,” he says. He runs a hand over his hair. “Don’t… maybe it’s… I mean, maybe she’s learned her lesson.”
Slate and Dash both snort skeptically. Sersha feels herself frowning in response to his words, and sees her expression mirrored on Mikayla and Logan’s faces.
“Tommy…” Logan begins.
“Please,” Tommy says. “Can’t we just enjoy tonight and forget this ever happened? Can’t we put this behind us?”
Sersha’s heart breaks at the sight of his hopeful expression. The man is clearly upset, but he’s trying
really hard to look like he isn’t. After a moment, where he and Logan stare at each other as though they can speak without words, Logan nods.
“If that’s what you want,” he says.
Tommy lets out a breath. “Thanks,” he replies. Mikayla chews on her tongue but wisely says nothing. Tommy turns to Slate. “Slate, you want to introduce me to one of the girls you were talking to earlier?”
Sersha feels a pang of jealousy much stronger than she’d thought she would at those words. Slate’s eyes flicker toward her for a moment before he grins widely and claps Tommy on the back.
“You’re in luck, buddy!” he says. “The redhead is just your type.”
He pulls Tommy into the crowd, weaving through until he spots one of the waitresses. As Sersha and the rest of the group watch, Slate talks to her for a moment before one of her friends—a beautiful redhead—appears out of nowhere beside her. Tommy ducks his head and looks up at her through his floppy brown fringe, and Sersha can practically hear the woman’s heart fluttering.
Dash snorts. “So we’re gonna go ahead and tell Lost in Time what Danielle did, right?” he asks.
But Logan shakes his head. “Nah, we’re gonna take Tommy’s lead on this one.”
“But—”
“Leave it, Dash,” Logan says. He hooks his hand around Mikayla’s, pulling her close and kissing her on the temple. “Tommy should be allowed to decide.” Logan’s eyes fall on Sersha. “Sorry you had to see that—”
“Don’t worry about it,” she interrupts. “Just, you know, as long as everything is okay?”
“It will be.”
Logan pulls Mikayla back into the crowd. Mikayla throws a look over her shoulder at Sersha, promising her an explanation as she allows her boyfriend to pull her away. Sersha’s grateful that Mikayla is promising to tell her what’s going on, but she gets the feeling that she doesn’t need to rely on her. She probably won’t even need to wait a few minutes to have her curiosity sated.
