Play For Me

by Tam DeRudder Jackson

  After my severe private pep talk, I decided to wander around the party, see if I couldn’t find Annabelle and at least enjoy her little show as she tried to entice Dakota Perri into her panties. If she got anywhere near the man, I had no doubt she’d win her prize. However, he had a reputation for being a man whore, and she might have to wait her turn or share him. Even as wild as I knew Annabelle to be, I didn’t think either scenario would suit her. At any rate, it would certainly be fun watching.

  As I navigated my way around the clusters of people seated at tables at the edges of the party, I noticed several professional sports players from Denver-area teams. Since Harrison regularly sought out those guys as clients, I had a working knowledge of the men who played for the Nuggets basketball team, the Broncos football team, the Avalanche hockey team, and the Rapids soccer team. I nodded at a couple of basketball players I’d met at one of Harrison’s functions last summer as I walked past their table, but I wasn’t comfortable enough to stop to chat.

  Nearby, a buffet table nearly groaned aloud with all the food piled on top of it. The sight of acres of an eclectic array of snacks and appetizers rumbled my stomach, and I remembered I hadn’t eaten since lunch, which was almost a day ago. Shrimp cocktail, oysters on the half shell, fancy stuffed jalapeno canapés, fruit platters, vegetable platters, hot wings, onion rings, and trays of mini sliders were only the beginning of what was on offer. Trailing my eyes down the table, I noticed a pair of chefs carving slices off of some sort of stuffed meat roll and a party-sized prime rib.

  It occurred to me as I checked out the food that maybe I should eat something to soak up the alcohol in my system. As I joined the others lined up along the buffet, I noticed a gorgeous buff guy about my age, with intense dark eyes and tawny skin wearing a cutoff Balefire T-shirt and a beanie staring at me from across the table.

  “Hey, aren’t you Annabelle Stewart’s friend?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I replied hesitantly. “Do I know you?”

  “I’m Bailey Saunders.”

  “Hey Bailey.” I smiled. “Thanks for the VIP tickets to the concert and everything.” I nodded around at the party in full swing. “Annabelle said you were the one who gave them to us.”

  “You’re welcome. A friend of mine made it easy for me to do him a favor with those tickets.” He glanced behind me. “So, where is Annabelle? She made it to the party, didn’t she?”

  By this point in our conversation, we’d reached the chef station, so we had to pause our convo to make our requests. Bailey opted for a little of each. I only wanted the prime rib. With the chef station situated at the end of the buffet, Bailey motioned me to follow him to a pedestal table where we could set down our plates and drinks though we’d be enjoying our meal standing up.

  “What happened to Annabelle?”

  Something accusatory in his tone told me he and Annabelle hadn’t been on the same page when he’d given her those tickets. As bad as I felt for him, my loyalty lay with my friend.

  “She’s here somewhere. Somehow, I lost her in this crowd. Imagine that,” I replied with a playful grin as I waved my fork at the crush around us. “You’re a roadie with the band? How is it you’re at this party? Do you tear down tomorrow?” I asked, deliberately changing the subject.

  “Actually, I’m the head road engineer for all of Balefire’s live shows.”

  “I’m sorry. I guess I misunderstood what Annabelle told me.”

  His broad smile told me he took no offense at the way I’d inadvertently demoted him. “The road crew takes turns attending the after-parties. Tonight, most of the team will be here since we aren’t going back out on the road until the day after tomorrow.” He tipped up his bottle and swallowed some beer. “We’ll wait till morning to load the gear. Our next show’s in Phoenix on Monday.”

  “It’s cool you get to attend the parties. Are they always like this?”

  “You mean this big?” Bailey asked, looking around the room for a minute.

  “And the catering with the chefs and all the waitstaff and the drinks . . .” I trailed off as I caught his grin.

  “Nah, this one’s special since we’re home. The guys have tons of friends and family here, so they’re celebrating extra.”

  “That’s cool. I guess I didn’t think about that.”

  Bailey didn’t mean to stick a knife in me with that remark, but I felt a stabbing pain in my chest all the same. I gave my total concentration to my food, which had been going down easily before but now stuck in my throat. Oblivious to my distress, he said, “Balefire’s based here in Denver, but being a big fan of theirs, I bet you already knew that.”

  I nodded as I downed the last of my drink and pushed my plate away, my previous hunger replaced by a churning in my stomach that echoed my churning emotions. Like I needed the reminder of Jack’s geographical proximity to me all this time. The emotional distance between us was planetary, which rendered our physical proximity meaningless. Still, he was somewhere in this room, and to my horror, I very much wanted to see him. Somehow, I thought, if I could see him up close and personal, I could loosen the hold he’d had on me since my sophomore year of high school.

  “Hey, hey, hey. We can’t have that,” Bailey chided me.

  Startled at what my face must have revealed, I tried to smile away his assumptions. “Oh, I—”

  “You’re out of champagne. That will never do.”

  He signaled a passing waiter and grabbed two fresh flutes of champagne from his tray, setting both in front of me. “This is a Balefire party, Clio. You can never be out of a drink.” He winked at me before he finished the last of the food on his plate.

  “You gonna finish that?” With his fork, he indicated an oyster and a couple of shrimp I’d left behind.

  “Help yourself.”

  He didn’t even bother to transfer the food to his own plate, instead eating directly off mine. I imagined the crew shared a lot of things, so helping himself to my leftovers would be completely natural for him, even if I found it a little strange.

  “You have any idea where in this crowd I might find Annabelle?”

  I shrugged. “You’re the after-party expert here, not me. I have yet to make a full circuit of the room.” I tipped back some champagne, more to divert an uncomfortable conversation than because I wanted more to drink.

  A local band started warming up on a dais opposite the doors into the room, and I leaned across the table so he could hear me over the additional noise. “If there’s a band playing, chances are pretty good Annabelle will be dancing. You might start there,” I said. “Thanks for sharing dinner with me, Bailey. It was nice to meet you. And thanks again for the tickets to the concert.”

  “My pleasure. Nice to meet you too Clio. Maybe I’ll see you around later.”

  “Sure,” I said and downed one glass of champagne before grabbing the other and wandering off toward the sounds of the band. Maybe I could lose myself and my memories on the dance floor—or find myself staring up into a pair of seafoam-green eyes that had haunted me for five long years.

  Chapter Five

  Jack

  Clio stood to the side of the dance floor, sipping a flute of champagne and looking so stunning she nearly broke my heart—again.

  I wanted to study her, take all of her in for a few minutes before I broke the spell and actually talked to her. What do you say to the only person who ever really mattered after you dumped her with no explanation whatsoever? After the way she dropped on her ass when I caught her attention at the concert, I had to wonder how she was going to react to talking to me.

  Then again, maybe she went down because of the booze she’d been drinking. I barely took my eyes off her from the moment I spotted her in the front row at the show, so I saw how she finished her flask then finished off her friend’s. Now she had a half-full glass of champagne in her hand, and I couldn’t tell if she was swaying to the music or trying to remain upright.

  Jesus, tipsy or not, her beauty stunned me. That dr
ess she had on wore me out. All that delicate lace hinted at her pretty curves and showed off her legs, which her sexy sandals emphasized. I couldn’t guess the length of her hair since she was wearing it up, but I was glad she apparently hadn’t cut it. The style exposed the neck I’d loved touching and kissing, making her shiver and snuggle closer to me for more. As the memories washed over me, I smiled before I heard Dakota talking from somewhere behind me.

  “Oh, yeah, I’d like to tap that,” he said, and I wondered which girl would be the starter for his evening. Then he boiled my blood. “That redhead in the blue lace dress is one seriously sexy woman.”

  “I think she’s spoken for, dude. You’re going to have to look somewhere else,” Tron said as he materialized next to me.

  “Just ’cause there’s a goalie doesn’t mean you can’t score,” Dakota said with a laugh.

  I flexed my fists as I considered clocking him when Tron put a restraining hand on my arm. Clenching my jaw, I didn’t turn my head to look at him, but I uncoiled slightly. Of the three other guys in the band, I was closest to Tron. He was steady and levelheaded, and he didn’t mind at all that I didn’t drink much and never spent private time with the army of groupies who followed Balefire like it was their job.

  “She belongs to the monk, Dakota. That’s one goalie you don’t want to mess with.”

  “The monk has a girl? How did I not know this?” Dakota turned a wide-eyed stare on me.

  “With any luck, I’ll have that girl, so back off,” I growled.

  “You haven’t made a move yet? That makes her fair game.” Dakota took a step in Clio’s direction.

  “I invited her to this party, so no, she’s not fair game. If you don’t want me to mess up your pretty face, back the fuck off,” I gritted out, staring him down.

  Dakota raised his hands in surrender. “Whoa, man. No need to get your shorts in a knot over a woman. The room is full of ’em.” His eyes wandered the room and all the ladies on offer. “Why, there’s another sweet little number walking over to talk to Red. The brunette off-limits too?”

  “Knock yourself out. I’ll even introduce you,” I said. Maybe with the buffer of other people, I could survive this initial reconnection with Clio.

  Then again, maybe it was a much bigger deal to me than it would be to her. For all I knew, Harrison Barnes had fed her a truckload of shit about me, and now she couldn’t give a flying fuck if I talked to her or not.

  “You’ve been stirred up about seeing her again since you found her friend and set up this opportunity, dude. Probably better do something about it now that you have the chance,” Tron said quietly into my ear.

  I nodded and turned to Dakota. “Let’s go talk to some nice girls for a change.”

  “Seriously? What fun will that be?”

  The stricken look on Dakota’s face cracked me up, and I felt lighter than I had all night. “God, you’re such a fuck boy. If Clio’s friend is too nice for you, I’m sure you can find the girl who belongs with the red bra you kept from the show.”

  “You saw that, did you?” A grin broke over his face.

  “Bet her phone number is written in great big digits over the inside of the cups.”

  “Nah, they’re all lace.”

  I raised a brow and waited for the punch line.

  “It’s written along the straps. Since all the VIPs in the front row got invited to this little soiree of ours, I know she’s here somewhere. But first, the angel in the naughty black leather dress.”

  I burst out laughing at the melodramatic villain way he rubbed his hands together, and we were all right again.

  Glancing back to where Clio and her friend stood, I sucked in a breath, squared my shoulders, and willed my feet to move. Walking beside me, Tron snorted out a laugh. “Jesus, dude, she’s a beautiful woman, not a firing squad. Relax already.”

  Inclining my head in Tron’s direction, I didn’t have to look at his face to see his smirk. With Dakota and Tron dogging me, I couldn’t falter, couldn’t slow down. I was within two steps of her before Annabelle noticed us, her face lighting up with a hundred-watt smile. Judging from the rigid way she held herself, Clio had noticed me sooner and chosen not to let on. Funny how after so many years apart, I could still read her.

  “Oh my God, Clio! It’s the whole band,” Annabelle squealed.

  At long last, Clio turned her head to acknowledge me. The pain in her eyes arrowed directly into my solar plexus.

  “Hello, Clio,” I choked out, my voice harsh to my ears.

  “Hello, Jack.” Like a balm, her soft voice washed over me.

  “You do know her. I thought you were fuckin’ with us, man,” Dakota said. “Dakota Perri. Very”—he dragged the word out—“pleased to meet you. Quite honestly, we thought the monk here didn’t know any girls, let alone two such fine women as yourselves.”

  The way Dakota stared at Clio’s breasts had me balling my fists again, something Tron must have noticed too.

  “Adam Tron, but I go by Tron. I don’t think I caught your names,” he said as he extended his hand across to Annabelle, cutting off Dakota’s view of Clio.

  “Annabelle Stewart, and this is Clio Barnes.” Annabelle shook Tron’s hand. “But you knew that already,” she said, addressing me and turning to Clio. “You’ve been holding out on me, sister. You never let on for one second that you actually knew Jack Whitehorse.”

  “We went to the same high school,” Clio said, noncommittally. “Nice to meet you Tron, Dakota.”

  She shook their hands, and Dakota jerked my chain again by holding Clio’s hand too long. About the time I thought I might have to damage his million-dollar fingers, he let go and reached for Annabelle. “Since these two are old friends, maybe you and I should wander off and let them catch up. Annabelle, tell me about your very fine self,” he said as he wrapped an arm around her waist and led her away from the group.

  Annabelle turned her head to wink at Clio, and I noticed she slipped an arm around Dakota as they walked away. When I returned my attention to Clio, she studiously avoided looking at me, instead directing her eyes to the people on the dance floor.

  Tron interrupted the awkward silence left in Dakota and Annabelle’s wake. “Hope you enjoy the party Clio. See you around.” Then he disappeared too, leaving Clio and me alone surrounded by strangers.

  “So—”

  “Look, Jack. When Annabelle invited me to your concert, she left out the part about backstage passes to your after-party. She, of course, had a mission, one I think she’s currently accomplishing. I wouldn’t have come along if I’d known there was a chance of finding myself here.”

  My heart might have dropped to my knees. Clio hated me.

  “Please don’t let me cramp your style. I’m only here as Annabelle’s wingwoman, and I’m used to entertaining myself at parties.” She tossed off the last of her champagne before she set her empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray and grabbed a fresh drink.

  She gave me no choice but to go all in. “I asked Annabelle to bring you.”

  “What?” she sputtered. “She acted like she didn’t know you and had no idea you and I knew each other.”

  I blew out a breath, then laid out all my cards. “Actually, I did just meet her. Our head road engineer, Bailey Saunders, went to a party once and met Annabelle. You were there too.” Clio shot me a look. “I saw you in the background of one of Bailey’s photos on his phone when he was telling me about a hot girl he met. So, I looked up your friend, saw you in lots of pictures on her Instagram page, and realized you hadn’t moved far away to go to college like I always thought you would.” I blew out a breath. “Anyway, I gave Bailey the tickets for Annabelle with the requirement that she bring you with her.”

  “Why do you want to see me now?” She fisted her hand on her hip. “It’s been five years, Jack.”

  I could tell she was trying to be tough, but I could also hear the hurt in her voice. It killed me. And it gave me hope. “Listen, can we go somewhere qui
et—and private—to talk about this?”

  “You engineered this whole evening to talk to me? You couldn’t, oh, I don’t know, pick up a phone, give me a call even once in all this time? Like when you were tired of me in high school and walked away?” She downed half the flute of champagne in her hand. “Jesus, Jack, I don’t know what I’m doing standing here still talking to you.”

  She was about to take another drink of her champagne, but I needed her sober, so I snagged the glass out of her hand and set it on a table. Before she could finish spitting her indignation, I grabbed her hand and started walking toward the side doors where I knew I could sneak us out. No doubt, it was a caveman move, my grip on Clio’s hand giving her no choice but to follow me. But I needed to talk to her, explain myself. Beg for a second chance.

  When we reached the hallway, she half-heartedly tried to pull away, but I didn’t let go.

  “Jack, you can’t force me to come with you. I’m not some groupie who can’t wait to share your bed.”

  “Who said anything about sharing a bed? I need to talk to you, and I don’t want to do it in front of an audience.” The idea of sharing a bed had definitely entered my head regularly over the past five years and probably ten or a hundred more times since I first set eyes on her at the concert tonight. But we needed to talk first.

  I pulled her along with me to the bank of elevators and punched in the number for the band’s reserved floor.

  “You still haven’t answered my question, Jack. Why now?”

  With the subdued ding of a bell, the elevator arrived, and I tugged Clio into it with me, crowding her toward the back of the car so she wouldn’t try to slip back out of it. That’s when I finally started talking. “I tried to see you three years ago at your high school graduation, but you left right after you gave your speech. I tried to call you, but your number didn’t work. I looked your number up online, but you’re not listed anywhere, and I think the last time you updated your Instagram page was in high school.”