Crew makes a call. “Liam, dude. It’s on again!” He tells Liam what station, then puts his phone on speaker. We sit and listen to our song. When it’s over, the guys whoop loudly.
“We’re fucking famous!” Garrett yells.
I get back on the road again. We stay on the call, listening to them rave about it until Crew and I arrive at the barn. We run inside, and lots of hugging ensues.
The barn door opens, and Dirk comes in. “You kids hear your song on the radio?”
Garrett and Brad run over to him, and they shake hands, talking jubilantly about it. Liam and Crew, hang back, looking anything but excited. Liam really must despise Dirk, and Crew seems to be the only one who knows why.
“Bria,” Dirk says, coming over to kiss my cheek. “You sounded lovely, as always.”
“Thank you.”
“I told you things would happen.” He turns to Liam. “Didn’t I tell you?”
“Yeah, Dirk. You told me.”
He looks pissed. “Maybe you could show some fucking gratitude then.”
Crew steps between them. “We appreciate everything you’ve done for us, Dirk. None of this would be possible without you.”
“That’s more like it.” He shoots a glare at Liam. “Sylvia would like you all to join us for a celebration dinner tonight. I’ve invited influential people from the city. Show up at six with bells on.”
“Tonight?” I look down at my clothes: jeans and an old Aerosmith T-shirt.
“I’m sure you can find a pretty dress to wear, sweetheart. There’s a nice mall a few miles down the street.”
No one in the band protests, and I wonder if this is an example of what Crew meant by Dirk controlling everything. “I’m sure I can find something.”
“That’s the spirit,” Dirk says and leaves, repeating “Six o’clock” over his shoulder.
“Shit,” Garrett says. “The last thing I want to do is celebrate with a bunch of goddamned suits.”
“It’s a small price to pay for all he’s done for us, though, right?” Brad asks.
“Small price, my ass,” Liam mumbles, going over to turn on the amps. “Come on, let’s get to work.”
After practice, I ask Crew to point me in the direction of the mall.
“I’ll go with you,” he says.
“Thanks, but you don’t have to.”
“I’m going, Bria. Malls are cesspools of creepy guys.”
“I think you’re forgetting where I live.”
He shakes his head in disgust. “Not likely.”
“You really have a problem with my apartment, don’t you?”
“It’s not your apartment I have the problem with, it’s your street.”
“Whatever,” I say, walking to my car. “Are we going to do this or not?”
At the mall, Crew becomes more playful, even sneaking into the dressing room to ‘help’ me.
“Crew,” I say, peeking through the curtain. “We’ll get in trouble.”
“For what? Trying on clothes? Now take off your shirt.”
I pull it off. He stares at my chest, and I heat up under his perusal.
“Now the pants,” he commands.
I do what he says. He turns me so my back is to his front and locks eyes with me in the mirror. He wraps his arms around me and caresses my hips, stomach, and breasts.
“Who’s the creepy one now?” I tease.
Instantly his demeanor changes and he pulls away. “I was trying to have fun.” He picks a dress off a hanger and hands it to me. “Try this one. I’ll wait outside.” He shuts the curtain behind him leaving me confused once again.
“What’s the deal with Garrett?” I ask in the changing room.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve never met his family, and someone said something about a trust fund.”
“You won’t meet them. He doesn’t talk to them.”
“Why not?”
“Beats me.”
“And the trust fund? I assume that means the family he wants nothing to do with is rich.”
“All I know is he stands to get his hands on a shitload of money the day he turns twenty-five.”
I peek out. “There are a lot of secrets in this band, aren’t there?”
His brows are drawn. “Maybe there are good reasons to keep them that way.” There is an edge to his tone that tells me to stop prodding.
I pick my favorite dress of the four I tried on and take it to the counter. Crew hands over his card before I can give her mine.
“You’re not buying my clothes,” I say.
“I am, and the shoes, too. Every penny you save is a penny you can put toward your new place.”
I roll my eyes, but I concede. He can afford the seventy-five dollars a lot more than I can.
On our way out, a young man approaches us. “You sing for Reckless Alibi, don’t you? I’ve seen you at least a dozen times. You guys rock.”
“Thanks,” we say at the same time.
“Chris Rewey, right?” He looks at me. “And you’re …?”
I open my mouth to tell him when Crew captures my elbow. “Leaving,” he says curtly. “We’re in a hurry.”
“Oh, okay. Bye.”
We reach the car and get in. “Kind of rude, don’t you think?”
“I wasn’t rude.”
“If that’s not you being rude, I hate to think what it looks like. We have to be nice to our fans. We don’t want to get a reputation for being arrogant.”
“We’re not arrogant.”
“But he doesn’t know that. What if he tells all his friends we are, and they stop coming to our gigs? It can snowball easily.”
“If they like our music, they’ll keep coming. He’ll probably tell his friends he met the singers from RA so he can look good.”
“We should be more accommodating.”
“Accommodating?” he says with disgust. “You want men following you? Touching you?”
He’s jealous again. Jealous of someone I don’t know. “Of course not. Just be nice. Do you think you can manage that?”
He blows out a breath in frustration. “Whatever.”
“So what are we doing the rest of the afternoon?” I ask. “Can we hang out at your place?”
“You want to go to my apartment?”
“Sure, why not?”
“Because it’s … dirty.”
I chuckle. “You should have seen Brett’s first apartment. I think I can handle it.”
He scrubs a hand across his jaw. “Okay.”
He gives me directions. It takes longer to get there than I thought it would. We pass the You Are Now Leaving Stamford sign.
“It’s these apartments,” he says. “Turn in up here.”
I try not to let my jaw drop. This complex must be fifty years old, maybe older. Paint is peeling off the siding. Dirt, not grass, lines the property. Cars as old as Crew’s fill the parking spaces.
“You were expecting the Ritz?”
“No, but—”
“I never said I was rich, Bria.” He points to a building. “That’s mine. Park over there.”
“I assumed—”
“You and everyone else.”
“But how can you be so against my place when you live here?”
“It’s different. You’re in the city, and you’re a—”
“Girl? It’s different because I’m a girl?”
“Yes.”
I snort my displeasure.
“Bria, I don’t make up the rules. The fact is it is different for girls. I’m not being sexist. Guys can protect themselves better than girls. We aren’t as vulnerable. We don’t get stalked.”
“Stalked? That’s ridiculous.”
“It’s not.”
“We’re not famous yet. Maybe then I could see it.”
“You think you have to be famous to get stalked?” He opens his door. “Forget it. Give me a few minutes, okay?”
“You forget I have a brother. I’ve seen it all.”
He shakes his head. “Wait five minutes and then come up.”
“Fine. Jeez, go hide your porn.”
He runs up the stairs two at a time and enters the first apartment on the right. Considering where he lives, I feel guilty letting him pay for my dress.
After five minutes, I get my things out of the backseat and go up. He left the door cracked for me. When I step inside, I see a mess on his couch. He darts across the room to pick up the dirty clothes and throw them into a closet.
“It’s not so bad.” A few old guitars hang on his walls. A keyboard and synthesizer are in one corner. There’s also an impressive collection of albums that would rival mine.
“It’s not as nice as your place,” he says.
“But it’s a lot bigger.”
He picks up one of his guitars, nervously strumming as I check out his separate kitchen and peek into his bedroom. He’s playing one of our songs. I stop snooping and watch him play.
“You’re as good as Liam, you know.”
“Don’t tell him that.”
He keeps a lot of rock memorabilia on his bookshelves. One shelf is dedicated to photos of friends and family. I recognize his mom and Gary in some of them. He’s with friends in others. I pick one up and smile. “Is this you and Liam? How old were you?”
“I think we were ten.”
Crew is “singing” into a broomstick, and Liam is playing air guitar. “You wanted to be a singer even then?”
He comes up behind me, wrapping me in his arms. “I was born to sing.”
I look at some of the other photos and notice two clean spots where pictures should be. He didn’t just want to tidy up. He came up first to hide her from me.
I want so badly to ask him again. But the way he’s holding me; he’d stop doing it if I did. And I decide I want him to hold me more than I want to ask about her.
I spin to face him. “You were a cute kid.”
He pulls me tightly against him. “What about now? Am I still cute?”
“Cute? No. Incredibly hot? Absolutely.”
“You think I’m hot?”
“Oh yeah,” I drawl.
“You’re not half-bad yourself.”
I stand on my toes and peck him on the cheek. He momentarily glances over at the photo shelf and then back at me. Then he kisses me hard, with tongue.
“Wow,” I say breathlessly. “What was that for?”
“I’ve wanted to do that since rehearsal. You were great today. You’re great every day, but today there was something more, if that makes any sense.”
“It’s amazing what a few orgasms can do for a lady.”
He laughs. “Why don’t I give you a tour of the place?”
“I’ve seen it.”
“Let me clarify. Bria, do you want to see my bed and maybe let me strip you naked and add to your orgasm count?”
My cheeks flush. “Lead the way.”
~ ~ ~
We drive to Dirk’s house. Correction, his mansion. “Holy crap. You didn’t tell me Liam’s uncle was a billionaire.”
“What did you expect? He owns a huge car dealership and half the city.”
I park to one side, embarrassed to be driving my old car. I get out. Among the vehicles in the massive driveway are a shiny red Porsche and a white SUV. “He invited Ronni and Jeremy?”
Crew shrugs.
A big black limousine pulls up to the front walk, and a man and women get out of the back.
“Who’s that?” I ask.
“Could be anyone. Dirk has lots of friends in high places.”
I look down at my dress. “I feel underdressed, like I should be wearing a tiara or the Hope diamond.”
He takes my hand. “You look amazing.”
“Thanks. So do you.”
Watching Crew get ready for this thing was nothing less than spectacular. Seeing him put on a suit was almost as fun as seeing him remove all his clothing before we have sex. I’ve never seen him wear anything other than ripped jeans and T-shirts. He’s gorgeous.
Crew nods to the end of the driveway. “Here come Brad and Garrett.” They park and join us. Crew walks to the door.
“What about Liam?” I ask. “Shouldn’t we wait for him?”
“He lives here.”
“But he hates his uncle.”
Garrett says, “Yeah, but not enough to pay rent on some dive instead of living in the damn White House.”
“Says the guy living in a dive instead of on his family’s estate,” Crew says.
Garrett shoots him a biting glance. “Whatever.”
Before we can ring the bell, the door opens, and someone who looks like a waiter greets us. “Welcome. Mayor Campbell and his guests are waiting in the salon.” He points us in the right direction.
“Oh, my God,” I whisper to Crew. “This house has a salon.”
“It’s a fancy word for another living room,” he says, clearly not as fascinated as I am with our surroundings, maybe because he’s been here so many times. I don’t care how often I come here, I’ll be impressed every time.
Dirk sees us and hurries over. “Ah, the guests of honor. Let me introduce you.”
Along with Liam, we are paraded around the room and introduced to lawyers, a Wall Street tycoon, the owner of the Knicks, and two politicians.
“All this for us?” I ask.
Liam snorts. “It’s not for us. We’re Dirk’s shiny new toy now that we’ve gotten airtime. He probably had this dinner planned for months, but he wants you to think otherwise.”
“But then why are Jeremy and Ronni here?” I ask.
“Not just them,” Liam says. “Ronni’s boss too. The head of IRL.”
“Really?” Crew says, suddenly interested.
“He probably couldn’t turn down an invite from someone as influential as my uncle. Hell, he probably didn’t even know we’d be here. But as much as I hate this mingling shit, if the head of the record label likes us, we’ll probably get some serious attention. It pains me to say this, but we should try to be on our best behavior.”
“You? Behave at a party?” Garrett jokes. “They’d better lock up all the alcohol.”
“Shut up,” Liam says. “And take your sticks out of your back pocket, dude. You’re wearing a damn suit.”
Garrett lays a protective hand over his drumsticks. “They go everywhere with me.”
Brad laughs. “I’ll bet you even take them to bed, don’t you?”
“Sometimes. They’re inspirational. We should all sleep next to something that inspires us.”
Crew and I share a smile.
We meet Niles Armentrout, Ronni’s boss. I play nice and don’t call her Veronica when she calls me Brianna. He barely gives us the time of day; maybe Liam was right, and he didn’t know we’d be here. I’m getting the feeling Dirk is the kind of guy who works every situation to his advantage.
All the bigwigs go off and talk politics. Liam leads us out of the room. “Let’s play pool until dinner. They won’t even miss us.”
He guides us through a maze of hallways to the billiard room.
“Wow, this is incredible,” I say. “I didn’t know you lived with your uncle.”
“Not for long,” he says. “As soon as I can afford it, Mom and I are getting out of here.”
“Your mom lives here too? I’d love to meet her.”
“She doesn’t come to these things.”
“Shame.”
Thirty minutes later, the same man who let us in the front door beckons us to dinner.
“How did he know where we were?” Brad asks. “This place is ginormous.”
Liam points to a small plastic dome in the ceiling. “Cameras.”
Brad stiffens. “I hope there isn’t one in the bathroom. I might have snooped through a closet.”
Crew slaps him on the back of the head. “Fucking tool.”
On our way to the dining room, we run into a woman stumbling out into the hall. Liam runs over to her. “Mom, let me help you
back to your room.” Steadying her, he escorts her into a different wing. When he returns, he doesn’t say a word about his mother almost doing a drunken face-plant in front of his friends.
Crew pats Liam on the back like he understands. The rest of us pretend nothing happened.
Over the course of the next few hours, Dirk manages to endear us to Niles, the head of IRL. I hope Liam’s right. If he decides we’re worth it, big things could happen.
When we leave, I ask Crew, “What’s in it for Liam’s uncle? Why go through all the trouble?”
“He’s a businessman. He can profit from this.”
“But I read all the contracts. His name isn’t mentioned. He won’t make money off us.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
“I am?”
“Yeah, big time.” He glances at the mansion. “He didn’t get this rich by inheriting money. He knows how to make it. And believe me if we make it big, he’ll profit. Maybe he’s got secret ties to IRL we don’t know about. Maybe he owns a radio station and will profit from advertising. Maybe he owns a clothing store, and we’ll end up promoting his product. Whatever it is, you can bet he’s thinking about it now. On the other hand, if Dirk Campbell thinks we have something, he’s rarely wrong, and though I don’t want to be, I’m excited he’s so into us right now.”
“Why don’t you want to be?”
“Dirk isn’t always what he seems. He’s not someone I want to be in bed with.”
I raise my eyebrows.
“It’s a figure of speech, Bria.”
Crew opens my car door. “Is there anyone you want to be in bed with?” I ask in a sultry voice.
His slow smile has all kind of promise in it. “Now I’m getting hard.”
I graze my hand seductively across the front of his pants. “What are we going to do about that?”
“Woman, you’re going to kill me.” He shuts my door and runs around to get in.
I giggle. “Yeah, but what a way to die.”
His smile vanishes and distant Crew is back. “It’s been a long day. You probably want to get back to the city.”
“Did I say something wrong?” I was secretly hoping we’d sleep together like last night. After all, it’s late and I have to be back here tomorrow anyway.
“No. Let’s get out of here. I think we both need to get some shuteye.”
Reckless Obsession (The Reckless Rockstar Series) Page 15
