“I really like this black and red invitation. It has that splash of color without being too cheesy, giving off that rocker chic vibe without trying too hard.” Danielle slid the seventieth card across the small table.
“Is that what you are calling the wedding? Rocker chic?” Holding the invite up, I wrinkled my nose at the bold lines and stripes.
“Actually, I really wanted to call it a hot southern mess royalty princess who apparently doesn’t realize what a mistake it is marrying an egotistical pussy chasing cheating bastard kinda ceremony, but hell, I’ll settle for rocker chic.” Danielle let out a little smirk before tossing the remnants of her shot glass back.
“Wow, tell me how you really feel,” I sneered, tossing the invite back on the table with the gazillion others.
“I’m honest with you, Molls. Who else would tell you when you are being stupid, emotional, or even just a plain bitch? Right now the entire world bends over and kisses your ass for just about anything. Someone needs to keep knocking your ass down some pegs.”
Fame and fortune were the last things that anyone had to worry about with me. I still had my job with NP, I was still acting manager for Political Drowning, and I had yet to end up pregnant carrying Reid’s love child like everyone had speculated when we got engaged. As much as his publicist whined when she found out Reid had proposed, it was nothing like the scandal that broke a couple weeks later.
“Danielle, I really don’t care what invites get sent out. Pick the one you think is going to be the best and run with it.” Pushing my chair back, I stood and sauntered over to the bar top. Yanking the top off the bottle of Jack, I poured another glass and let out a massive sigh. We were getting married in seven weeks, then a blissful honeymoon jaunt, and right back into promoting for BL’s new album launch. I had exactly seven weeks to get my shit together and come up with a game plan.
“If I hadn’t seen your hoo-ha so many freaking times, I would swear you are hiding a small penis in those tight pants. Most women dream of this kind of fairy tale. A massive rock star, tons of money at your disposal, and the only thing you care about is the band playing at the reception.”
“Oooh, don’t forget my little pigs in a blanket, too. Those fuckers are delicious.”
“There is something seriously wrong with you, Molly.” Shaking her head, Danielle laughed and picked up the black and red invite again. “This is my choice, and since you don’t give a shit what this wedding looks like, I’m making the decision to order these.”
“Finally, you have come to your senses and realized that I just don’t really care.”
Tipping my glass at Danielle, I tossed the rest of the liquid back and grimaced as it burned while sliding down my throat. I’d never been a huge drinker, but the last couple weeks I couldn’t seem to be far away from a bottle during the wedding planning process. Granted, everything up until today had been all talk. Today was the actual first day of so called planning. I bought the dress, picked the invites what more could we possibly need to do?
“Have you thought about where you want to have the wedding?”
“It’s a good thing you’re pretty and can put together clothing options that most people would chop off their right arm to own, but serious, Danielle. Your listening skills totally suck.”
“I told you, I don’t care. The only thing on my list of worries right now is getting the boys into the studio to start their sophomore album and have it not totally blow balls.” The sophomore slump was not only a curse in the industry, but something I feared greatly, knowing the boys in the band. One of them couldn’t seem to keep his dick in his pants, the other was having marital issues again, and the other two were proof that evolution could be wrong.
Grabbing her bag off the counter behind us, Danielle shook her head in disgust. “Will you at least come with me while looking at venues?”
“As long as it doesn’t interfere with work.” I shrugged. “But, isn’t it cutting it close for finding a location? I’m not skilled in wedding planning one-on-one, but shouldn’t that have been done, like, forever ago?”
“Sure, if you aren’t famous. I just feel bad for the poor souls who get bumped for our little soiree.”
“Cold hearted bitch.” I chuckled as she fluffed her long dark hair in the mirror, then reached for the doorknob.
“Eh, I’ve been called worse. Now, fucking eat something. You have drank enough for the both of us, and I’m not sending you to rehab before the wedding. Think of the PR mess that would make.” Danielle’s laughter could be heard even when the door closed.
Flipping the closed door off, I poured another glass of Jack and wandered over to the couch. I couldn’t say that drinking was numbing the pain of reality at the moment, but it sure took the damn edge of everything that was playing out for the tabloids. Why would I expect my life to be any different?
“It looks like a stationary store blew up on the kitchen table!” Megan yelled as she shut the door. Holding up my glass from the couch, I acknowledged what she said and continued to flip through the channels on the television.
“I take it today didn’t go very good?” Megan raised an eyebrow while pulling off her jacket and draping it over the back of the armchair.
“It was okay. I found a dress.”
“Oh, my, gosh! Seriously? What does it look like? How did you feel in it? Did you buy it?” she rambled quickly, scurrying around the armrest and taking a seat right next to me. “I need details, spill it.”
Setting my now empty glass on the coffee table, I let out a little snort and turned to smile at her. “Well, it’s like a cream white, long, sleek, and it fit good.”
“Did you take pictures?”
“No pictures. But if you want to come with me to one of the fittings, I’m totally game.” Reaching for my empty glass, I mentally contemplated pouring myself one more glass before calling for some take out and going to bed.
“Put the glass down, Molly. We are going out to celebrate. Get your smelly butt in the shower and be ready in, like, an hour.” Megan bounced off the couch like a damn jack rabbit on steroids, sprinting to her room and shutting the door quickly.
“No, that’s okay, Megan. I’d rather just stay home tonight if that’s okay with you. It is? Great, thanks for understanding that it was a long day. You are such a good friend.” Grumbling, I reluctantly pulled myself off the couch and wandered into the kitchen to put the glass in the sink.
“I heard that.” Megan’s head popped around her bedroom door.
“Great.” Flashing her a thumbs up, I sneered when she closed the bedroom door. I really just wanted to stay home tonight. Reid was in L.A till Friday, shooting new promo material for the album launch, and all I wanted to do was get in my scrubbiest sweats and tank top and curl up on the couch to watch another round of bad reality TV. Instead, I was being drug out of the comfy, safe confines of the apartment into the cruel world where everyone had something to say even when you didn’t want to hear it.
Groaning, I forced my feet to head to the bathroom door. Shoving myself under the hot shower was probably a good thing, maybe giving my now sluggish motions a kick in the pants. It was amazing at how unmotivated a person could become when they really didn’t want to do things.
Shutting the bathroom door, I scrolled through the music on my phone before settling on an older playlist. Setting the phone down on the counter, I waited for the Bluetooth to connect with the speaker, and slowly peeled off my clothing. Reaching into the shower, I cranked over the knob and waited patiently as the steam started to fill the room.
The small room filled quickly, and the smooth music started to blare through the speakers. My little shower was a far cry from the one Reid had connected to the bedroom, but for some reason the simplicity of having a flimsy shower curtain and my little Beats speaker on the counter kept me holding on to the person I worked so hard at becoming. It didn’t matter that who I was marrying had money, that being with him meant I had anything I ever wanted at my fingertips,
because at the end of the day, I was still Molly Anne. Sure, I grew up with privilege, but I never used that to get ahead in my life.
After spending what seemed like an eternity in the scorching hot water, I finally managed to turn it off and step out. The steam was so thick in the room, making it hard to get a deep breath in. Securing the towel tightly around my torso, I opened the door to get some fresh air into the small space. A shadow emerged from the other side of the door, causing me to jump and drop the towel.
“Nice rack, Molly.” Chance chuckled from the hallway while I scrambled to cover my nibbly bits with my scrawny arms and hands.
“Asshole!” I shrieked, quickly grabbing the doorknob and yanking it closed. “Damn you, Megan!” Yelling through the closed door, I rested my forehead against the fake wood panel and quietly swore to myself. She never mentioned Chance was coming with us tonight. It was not like I had to spend my entire working career with those baboons, but now my roommate happened to be dating the walking STD of the band.
“Ah, Molls, it’s nothing that I haven’t seen before.” Chance called out from the other side of the door. Without even seeing the ass, I could envision his stupid smirk across that smug face of his. The way his lips would curl up into an evil smile tugged on his lip rings, making me want to open the door and snatch those stupid things right off his face. I was all for the colored hair, tattoos, and dirty rocker looks, but for some reason, facial piercings had never been my thing. I liked a rugged man, a little five ‘clock shadow gracing their face, and that was about it.
“I’m sure Reid would be thrilled to hear that.” Fucking douchebag.
Using my towel to wipe the fog off the mirror, I forced myself to continue to get ready. All Megan was getting tonight would be my blow-dried hair and maybe a little mascara and eyeliner. I was not about to get all dolled up to go out. I rarely did it when I was with Reid, so the odds were stacked against me doing it without him. I was going to go out, have a couple drinks, then come home and get naked. That was the order for the night, and there was no room for deviation in that solid plan.
Chapter 3
It’s like the Babysitters Club, only with condoms, STIs, and an unlimited supply of alcohol.
“I thought we were keeping it low key tonight?” Staring out the car window, my insides lurched when we started to pull up to the curb. Coming to the Pistol tonight was not the evening I had expected. I didn’t want the curb side drop off service, or the hundreds of people waiting behind the ropes to get in, all glaring at me while we strolled right past them and headed inside. I didn’t want my vision to be diminished by the stupid photogs and their flashy cameras, just hoping to catch me doing something stupid. I wanted a small dive bar, hell, I would have even settled for Applebees.
“It’s not that busy tonight, Molly!” Chance called over the stereo in the driver’s seat.
My horrible lack of judgment had led me to getting in the backseat of his car tonight, knowing damn well the man was a lunatic on the drum kit. Why I had ever given him the benefit of the doubt that he would be able to drive a vehicle, was a moral decision my brain and I would have to wager upon at a later date. But, we were already here.
There was no way to climb out of the backseat of a Mustang gracefully. It didn’t matter what size you were, ninety-nine percent of the time you would look like a complete fool trying to hobble out. Luckily, I had on a pair of skinny jeans and some comfy flats, thus minimizing the not so ballerina exit.
“Let’s get drunk,” Chance shouted while tossing open his car door open. Megan shots me a quick glance in the rearview mirror, a silent apology for this supposed low key drinking night, hijacked by some fool who could barely spell his own damn name.
“Yeah, great,” I muttered in the darkness.
Waiting for Chance to hit the button and slide the seat forward, I suddenly realized the thinking of anyone beyond himself was stupid, and I would be sitting in the damn car the entire night. It would probably be a better time than going into the bar, but alas, there was no alcohol in the vehicle. Pulling the seatbelt to the side, I flipped the button at the base of the seat and carefully pulled myself through the opening. Bracing one foot on the curb, I grabbed the open door and hauled myself out of the car.
Standing up straight, I let a small smirk spread across my face. I wasn’t missing any article of clothing, my hair didn’t get stuck in the seatbelt, and my face didn’t get to meet the concrete curbing tonight. I might not have looked the coolest exiting the vehicle, but at least they wouldn’t have anything to publish all over the tabloids tomorrow.
“Come on,” Megan said loudly, hooking her arm up with mine and pulling me toward the large black door. Chance’s name was being screamed by the girls in line, flashbulbs going off left and right, and I was pretty sure I heard a couple remarks about Reid, as we hurried inside. One would think since being with Reid I would eventually get used to the constant attention, but nope. I wanted nothing more than having a quiet evening with Reid at home, naked, and possibly stuck in the fornicating position forever.
Reaching for the door handle, I pulled it forward right as someone was apparently pushing it out, letting the hard black casing come crashing into my face.
“Son-of-a-bitch,” I cursed, instantly brining my hands up to cover whatever damage was done to my face. Megan’s hands grabbed the door and shoved me inside, before the press had any more of a field day with my mishap.
“Are you okay?” Megan gushed, ripping my hands off my face while leaning in close to inspect the damage.
“Yeah, I don’t think I’m bleeding.” Sniffing the snot that started to drip out of my nose, I moved my face around in weird gestures to make sure nothing was damaged.
“That’s probably going to leave a mark.” Megan laughed to lighten the mood as the music of the club started to pound through my ears.
“Would I expect anything less?” I yelled back at her, shaking my head. I always had some weird bruise to explain on my body. Reid was used to my skilled gracefulness in situations like that, normally pointing out the new bruises even before I realized they were there.
Megan grabbed my wrist, pulling me down the dark hallway and into the perfectly set mood lights of the room. A dark cast glowed through the large bar, giving off the vibe of sex, scandal, and booze. It was the perfect rock star scene, complete with scantily clad women and loud booming music. If I enjoyed this kind of crowd, then it would have been kick ass. Sadly, I was already regretting my decision to shower in the first place, since this place was so bloody hot the devil himself would request they turn the A.C. up.
“Drink?” Megan mouthed, motioning her head toward the bar.
Nodding my head in return, I followed behind her as she pushed her way through the crowd. It didn’t surprise me that we had already lost Chance in the chaos of the sweaty bodies. How it didn’t bother Megan that her boyfriend was a complete man whore, who was probably all up on some club skank baffled my already throbbing head.
Cramming ourselves into the smallest opening at the bar, I grit my teeth while waiting for some service. It felt like forever before someone noticed us standing there, and then we only got a nod of the head, singling that they knew we were waiting.
“Want to head up to the VIP section? They have bottle service up there?” Megan asked loudly, pointing to the second level overlooking the crowded dance floor.
“We won’t get in without Chance.”
Megan tossed me a puzzled look, and then leaned in closer. “You do realize that everyone knows who you are here. You are Reid Chamber’s fiancé; pretty sure that constitutes being let into the VIP area.”
Shaking my head, I dismissed the comment Megan just made. Yes, I was marrying Reid, but that didn’t make me a celebrity.
“Come on, we are never going to get served down here.” Grabbing my hand once again, Megan yanked me across the packed dance floor, and over to the roped off staircase.
“This is insane!” I tried to yell over the musi
c as we stopped in front of the bouncers. The tallest one looked over at Megan, then let his eyes drift over to mine. Without a word uttered, he unhooked the clip on the rope and signaled for us to head on up the stairs. “Seriously?” Cocking my head to the side, I let out an amused snort, and followed behind Megan’s eagerness.
“Told you.”
“Yep, I’m totally a hot commodity right now.” Laughing at myself, I went to take the next step without realizing we were at the top of the landing. Tumbling into the crowd, I managed to stay upright and off the floor once again.
“Graceful,” a voice came from one of the couches.
My skin crawled once the words reached my ears, knowing damn well who was attached to the voice. Tonight was about celebrating that I bought a dress, not a night where I was forced to babysit the children.
“Brantley,” I managed to say sweetly. Why is it that my work constantly spilled into my personal life? Oh, wait. That’s because I no longer had a personal life. Welcome to living the life of a rock star. Fuck.
“So you do still have fun outside of the bedroom with Reid.” Brantley’s trademark smirk displayed across his face, something that most women fell for instantly. Sadly, I did too at one point. Then I pulled my head out of my ass and realized how big of a stupid nut dragon the asshole really was.
“Did your wife kick you out again?” I replied coldly, showing him no emotion to what was previously said.
There was still an awkward working relationship between the two of us. Yes, I had seen his pecker and it might have migrated south of my boarder a couple times too many, and technically, I was still his manager overseeing the band, but for some reason the whole truce and working on a friendship thing was harder than we thought. I still wanted to pummel the ass for doing that to me and his wife, but it would do no difference in that thick head of his. Brantley was a charmer, and it was easy to fall into his snare.
Invisible Crown Page 2
