BY: JENNIFER HARTMANN
1 Chapter One
It was Beatlemania all over again.
Fans were crying, screaming, fainting, undressing, and pulling each other’s hair just to get closer to the four men on stage. The crowd consisted of hormonal college girls, soccer moms, grandmothers, men, and a pair of disabled women using their wheelchairs as weapons as they weaved through the masses. It was pure hysteria, and Chelsie Combs couldn't wait until the night was over.
The young cocktail waitress made her way over to a corner table, holding a tray of refreshments high above her head. The noise level at The Pit Stop bordered on painful, and Chelsie adjusted her handy ear plugs as she passed by a table of twenty-somethings.
A girl in a scandalous pink tube top squealed over the music. "Oh. My. God. He looked at me. Devon Sawyer just looked at me. You saw that, right?"
Her friend nodded with excitement. "He totally looked at you! Scratch that – he totally checked you out."
Both girls shared in a girl-bonding-giggle-fest and Chelsie held her tongue as she walked by the Scandalous Twins. She slapped a fake smile on her face and passed out drinks to another table of college girls. They handed her a tip, and Chelsie flashed them an award-winning smile. Her smile turned into a sour scowl as soon as she turned on her heel and headed towards the kitchen.
Chelsie hated her job. She hated the crowds. She hated the loud music. She hated everything from her four-inch stiletto heels to the crooked nametag pinned to her collared shirt.
"Hey, sweet cheeks!"
She hated even more that nobody bothered to read said nametag.
Chelsie pushed through the maze of sweaty bodies and trudged over to a pot-bellied man standing against the wall.
"What can I get for you, sir?" Her voice had barely penetrated Devon Sawyer's guitar solo.
"A kiss," he slurred, then puckered his lips at her.
Chelsie cringed and stormed away. That was nothing new. It was just another reason why she hated her job. When she reached the kitchen, Chelsie set down her empty tray and leaned against the counter with an embittered sigh.
"It's nuts out there, huh?"
Chelsie looked up at her friend and co-worker, Lisa, and forced a smile. "It's brutal. Can I go home yet?"
"Fat chance. Freeze Frame is only on their third song. And why would you want to? You're making bank in tips and these guys are amazing."
"Yeah, they're super. What is it with this band, anyway?” Chelsie crinkled her nose. “We’ve never had anyone this famous play here before."
Lisa pulled her scarlet curls back into a loose ponytail. "Jerry is friends with the band’s manager. He did him a solid. We’re just fortunate we were put on the schedule tonight."
"Ah, yes. I'm so privileged to be a part of this history in the making," Chelsie said with a theatrical eyeroll. She piled her tray high with beer and cheese fries.
Lisa whisked her trays through the double doors with a laugh. "You'll see. You’ll be telling your grandkids about this one day."
Chelsie snorted. Okay, so, these guys had a fanbase. Any decent-looking guy with a Facebook page had a fanbase these days. She picked up her tray of orders and followed Lisa out the door. Before she could exit, Jerry made a beeline in her direction.
What did she do wrong this time? Chelsie smoothed out her pencil skirt and checked to make sure her blouse was tucked in.
"Get those kids some more water, will you?" Jerry ordered.
"Huh? Me?" Chelsie glanced at the stage, then back to her boss. She was certain the phrase ‘deer-in-headlights’ did not begin to accurately convey the stunned look on her slender face. "The band?"
"Yes, you. Yes, the band. Get them water. Did I stutter?" Jerry snapped.
Chelsie shook her head. "No, sir. Just making sure."
She took a deep breath and turned back around towards the kitchen. She collected four water bottles from the refrigerator and tucked them under her arms.
"Lucky bitch!”
Chelsie looked over her shoulder to discover her other co-worker, Julia, sticking out her tongue. "It is what it is," Chelsie said with mock importance. "I'm just that cool."
"I would kill to get that close to those gorgeous boys," Julia sighed. "Every girl here would."
"Oh, please. It's just water. And you know I don't care."
Julia yanked her ponytail tighter and glanced at her ticket order. "Duh, that's why Scary Jerry chose you. You're not some swoony fangirl who's going to faint at the sight of them.”
Chelsie chuckled at the thought. "God, could you picture that? Me – actually showing interest in a man."
"You know you have to jump back into the dating pool eventually, Chels. Not every guy out there is like –”
"Chelsie!"
Chelsie spun around to find Jerry glaring daggers at her. "S – Sorry, I'm coming," she called back. Then she turned to Julia and held up a water bottle in playful victory.
Julia flipped her the bird in response. "I hope you fall on your ass up there," she said with a laugh.
"Chelsie!"
Chelsie jolted into action. "I'm coming!”
"You're really starting to piss me off," Jerry said, shaking his head with disapproval.
Chelsie rushed past him, her eyes facing straight ahead, and sauntered toward the staircase leading up to the stage. The security guards moved aside to let her pass, and Chelsie couldn't help but succumb to the faint feeling of self-importance as she trotted up the stairs. She clutched the water bottles tightly, her sweaty palms betraying her proclaimed indifference. She could feel the crowd's eyes on her as she neared the band. Chelsie knew every person in that room wanted to be her. Don’t fall on your ass. Don’t fall on your ass.
What Chelsie didn't expect, were the eyes of one incredibly good-looking lead singer to be boring holes into her as she approached. Her stomach fluttered in response.
What was that all about?
Chelsie held out a bottle of water to the shaggy-haired rock star and offered him a warm smile. "Here you go," she said. She was trying to ooze confidence, but her trembling hand portrayed otherwise.
He smiled back. And oh, did he smile back. Chelsie could almost feel her eyeballs turn into animated, cartoon hearts. And was that a cupid flying over her head with an arrow pointing at one unsuspecting Devon Sawyer?
Get a grip! Chelsie pried her eyes away from the lead singer and passed out the remaining water bottles. The drummer and bassist nodded their thanks. The guitarist snatched the water out of her hand with a sneer and refused to look at her. Chelsie frowned, but said nothing. She turned to walk off the stage, when a silky, strangely titillating voice made her stop in her clumsy tracks.
"Hey – thanks again, uh..."
Chelsie turned around, her heart beating comically out of her chest. Lead Singer Guy was staring at her, another melt-worthy smile on his face. "M – My name's Chelsie," she said. She cursed herself for stuttering like a lovestruck fool.
"Thanks, Chelsie,” he replied with a flirtatious wink.
She pushed her hair behind her ear and returned Devon’s smile with not nearly as much charm and bewitchery, and then almost tripped on one of the steps leading off the stage. Chelsie could practically hear Julia laughing at her as she pulled herself together and continued her trek back down to the lounge.
Sure enough, Julia was peering through the kitchen doors with a smirk on her face.
"You slut!" Julia shouted as Chelsie approached.
"What? How am I a slut?"
"You were totally eye-fucking Devon up there. Look, you're even blushing!"
Chelsie felt her cheeks grow hotter than Death Valley in the middle of July. She raised her hands to her face to hid
e the evidence. "I was not. He's not even my type."
Julia laughed, her raven ponytail swaying back and forth as she shook her head with pity. "Chels, you just found your type and apparently it's the most lusted after male in the country."
Crap. Chelsie ducked her head with equal parts mortification and infatuation. "He was... attractive, maybe, but it takes a lot more for me to –”
"Melt into a pile of girly-goo and almost trip over your own two feet in front of hundreds of people?"
"So, you did see that?" Chelsie asked in dismay. She raised a hand to her neck as the heat from her cheeks traveled down to her chest.
"Every minute of your wanton flirting," Julia admitted.
"Okay, first of all, that was not flirting. That was –"
"Eye fucking. We established this."
"Please stop incorrectly finishing my sentences.” Chelsie’s voice was laced with playful teasing.
Julia sighed in resignation. "Fine. Whatever. You were completely unaffected by his charms."
Chelsie lowered her eyes and let a smile slip. "I never said unaffected." Well, maybe she was a little more than unaffected. Chelsie Combs was utterly and completely under the spell of Devon Sawyer.
Lisa came barreling into the kitchen, tossing her empty tray onto the counter with a clatter. "Chelsie, I hate you!" she squealed. "Oh, but I love you. Tell me everything!"
Chelsie giggled and began to speak, when Jerry stormed through the doors.
"What the hell is this?" he blared. All three girls flinched. "There are customers out there waiting. This is our busiest goddamn day, and you three are having a hormone-infused pow-pow in the kitchen! I should fire you all on the spot."
The three friends shuffled to collect their orders.
"Sorry, sir," Chelsie muttered.
Lisa and Julia squeaked out an apology and hurried out of the kitchen.
"Hey." Jerry blocked Chelsie’s path before she could make her swift exit. "I expect a little more professionalism in the future.” He stormed away and pushed through the kitchen doors, muttering profanities under his breath.
Chelsie could feel the sting of tears threatening her eyes. Jerry was never lacking in the insult department, but he had never once called her unprofessional. Chelsie prided herself on her responsible nature and everyone around her knew it. They respected her for it.
Taking a deep breath, Chelsie lifted her head and went back out there to do her job.
Ten o'clock rolled around and Freeze Frame was on their final song. Chelsie had never worked so hard in her life. Her ankles were swollen, and her ears were ringing with reverb from the bass guitar. She had spent the evening carrying heavy trays over her head and cleaning spilled drinks and barbecue drippings, while simultaneously trying to dodge the lusty looks Devon Sawyer had been throwing in her direction. The first time their eyes had locked, Chelsie thought her knees would give out and her drink orders would topple onto table number four. Why had this superstar set his sights on her when the room was filled with glamorous women? What made her so special?
Once upon a time, Chelsie may have considered herself special. Unfortunately, Ian Masterson had successfully crushed her spirit and self-esteem a long time ago.
Glancing at her watch, Chelsie passed out a round of martinis to a crowded table and handed them the bill. When she turned around, she almost collided with a beefy security guard.
"Oh! I'm sorry, sir," she apologized.
"Miss Chelsie?"
She crossed her arms over her chest with a quizzical frown. "Am I in trouble?"
The guard let out a hearty laugh, his authoritative demeanor quickly dissolving. "Quite the contrary. Mr. Sawyer sent me over here to give you a private invitation to a V.I.P. event tonight with the band."
Chelsie's eyes widened. "Mr. Sawyer? As in..." Her voice trailed off and she looked over at the stage. Devon’s t-shirt was currently plastered to his sweaty torso, his well-defined abs undoubtedly taunting her. She gulped.
"Yes, ma'am – that Mr. Sawyer. They will be at Marley's tonight after the show. He'd like you to be there."
Chelsie was speechless. How was she supposed to respond?
"We'll be there!"
Julia had snuck up behind her and wrapped her arm around Chelsie's shoulder. Chelsie groaned. "Julia, I don't want to go."
Her friend ignored her and grinned brightly at the security guard. "Tell him we'll be there. Our shift is up at eleven."
Julia grabbed Chelsie by the hand and dragged her away before she could protest further.
"Jules, that wasn't cool. I have zero interest in being a musician’s one-night-stand,” Chelsie huffed, yanking her arm away.
"You'll thank me for it one day,” Julia said with a shrug.
Julia was one of those fortunate females who could reel any guy in with her long, obsidian hair, bedroom eyes, and ample cleavage. Chelsie was perfectly willing to pass off Devon Sawyer to her more experienced friend.
Devon would only find disappointment and bloody battle wounds beneath the layers of Chelsie Combs.
2 Chapter Two
The last hour of their shift dragged by, but the three friends were soon freshening up in the lounge bathroom.
"You are such a mirror hog, Lis," Julia snapped, pushing the redhead out of the way with her hip.
"Hey, straightening this mop takes time. Not all of us were blessed with shampoo-commercial hair."
"Are you two almost ready?” Chelsie tapped her foot against the laminate flooring. "I'm already getting tired."
Chelsie was exhausted and Marley's was not her scene. She was the kind of girl who liked to curl up with her cat and a good book after work, and then call it a night. Julia and Lisa were constantly trying to get her to party more often, but Chelsie would always decline. What was so appealing about getting drunk and trying to impress unworthy men? She enjoyed a cocktail every now and then, but overall, the night life was not her scene.
“Ready,” Julia said, popping the cap back on her cherry lipstick. “How do I look?”
“You know how you look,” Chelsie smiled sincerely.
It wasn’t long before the three women were on their way to Marley’s. It was a popular bar down the street from The Pit Stop, with a dance floor and a V.I.P. lounge upstairs. It was often occupied with beautiful and recognizable people. Chelsie had only been there once for Lisa’s mandatory 24th birthday party two years ago, and she had been unimpressed.
"This is unbelievable," Julia said. She bounced up and down in the backseat. "We're seriously going to hang out with Freeze Frame!"
Lisa nudged her friend in the ribcage as she drove through town. “And hopefully do more than hang out with them. Right, Chelsie?"
Chelsie scoffed at the absurdity of Lisa’s statement from the passenger’s seat. "We all know that's not happening. I'm sure the moment Devon sees you two I'll be a blip on his ever-growing radar."
Julia leaned forward with a melodramatic roll of her onyx eyes. "Stop selling yourself short, Chelsie. You’re gorgeous. Men are completely enamored with you and you refuse to believe it."
Chelsie shrugged off the compliment and shifted in her seat. She had believed that once. "You're sweet, Jules, but it's usually just the scary ones who hit on me."
"Or… hot lead singers,” Lisa said.
Julia threw her hands up. "Thank you!"
Chelsie buried her insecurities as Lisa pulled the car into a parking garage. She slung her purse over her shoulder, gripping the strap with a tinge of nervous excitement. Chelsie wasn’t sure why her heart was lub-dubbing wildly against its normally peaceful confinements. Maybe it was because Devon Sawyer was a legend in the making and Chelsie Combs was just a down-on-her-luck cocktail waitress with a tormented past. Or maybe it was the look he had given her when she’d traipsed up the stage steps with water bottles in her hands and forced indifference in her eyes. Or maybe it was the look he’d given her when she was re-filling cups of ice water and she’d accidentally zoned out and poured
a pint of it into a furious customer’s lap. Or maybe it was the look he’d given her when she was handing out plates of jalapeño poppers to the group of envious fraternity girls who had, in turn, stiffed her.
Chelsie took a moment to scold herself for documenting all of Devon’s provocative looks like a meticulously maintained Excel spreadsheet.
It was a short walk over to the upscale lounge. The entry line had to be a few blocks long. The three women pinned on their badges and marched their way up the sidewalk to the front of the building. A bouncer greeted them with a blank stare.
"Badges," he deadpanned.
They flashed their badges with pride and were swiftly let into the bar. The sounds of booing could be heard behind them as they breezed through the entrance.
"Suckers!" Julia shouted back. She inched down the neckline on her very revealing silver blouse. "Now, where are those yummy boys?"
Chelsie's heart continued to race as she scanned the crowd. The loud music reverberated through her as she linked arms with her friends. It wasn't long before they were smashed between dancing bodies and blinded by colorful DJ lights.
Julia's eyes lit up as she pointed to a staircase leading up to a private room. "Bingo," she grinned.
Before the girls could make their move, the guitarist of Freeze Frame ambled down the staircase, exuding an equal amount of sex appeal and surly nonchalance.
"Holy gorgeous," Julia swooned.
Chelsie crossed her arms and plastered a disinterested look on her face. "Don't get all excited. That guy is a dick."
"Uh-huh... sure..." Julia trailed off and pushed through the masses to approach him.
"Julia!" Chelsie called out. Her friend ignored her. "Shit."
Chelsie watched as Julia flirted with the cocky guitar player. Julia flipped her hair over her shoulder with a flirtatious grin and leaned into him as far as she could. He seemed to be charmed by her advances, but that was no surprise.
They both looked over in Chelsie’s direction. The guitarist nodded, his eyes dancing between herself and Julia. Chelsie maintained her look of apathy and sipped on her cocktail, unable to hear the conversation over the deafening music. Julia hadn't been lying when she'd called him gorgeous. He was good-looking, but in a different way from Devon. Devon’s hair was light and shaggy, where the guitarist had dark, sable hair, mussed with gel. He was tall and well-muscled, with a distinct edge about him. Chelsie could tell by the stubble across his jawline and a tattoo on his right forearm.
Aria (Duet Series Book 1) Page 1