Tiffany crossed her arms and leaned further into the chair. “Well, I am glad to hear that because he is a snake.”
“No worries. Our ship to Happily Ever After sailed nine years ago when I started attending Harvard.”
Unlike everyone else in her life at that time who loved her and had wished her well on the life endeavor, which had been her dream since she was a child, Chad had been furious with her when she chose a school halfway across the country. Not because of the distance or their relationship. No. When Chelsie left for Harvard, she’d left the band. Her choice had inadvertently destroyed Chad’s dreams of recording contracts and fame and fortune. Without her, the band had floundered—that is, until three months ago when she’d returned to singing with them. They’d gone from gigs in seedy bars to playing in some of the best places in southern Louisiana once she again sang with Twisted Dixie.
Being a part of the band again fulfilled the artistic side of her life that had been missing for years. Chelsie thrived on sharing her talent with an audience who appreciated country music. However, getting through Chad’s thick head that her medical career came before the band was driving her crazy, but she didn’t have time to think about him or the band right now.
Tiffany was back on the Asa train. She was happily life-mated and apparently thought everyone else should be too.
“I still think you’re writing off Asa too easily. Apparently, you missed the way he was looking at you earlier.”
That pulled her out of her Chad-and-the-band ruminations. “What are you talking about?”
She hunched a shoulder. “He gave you the look. You know. The look.”
No, she didn’t know. Asa had always been cordial and friendly toward her, but he’d never attempted to flirt with her. “You’re going to have to be more specific because I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Tiffany rolled her eyes. “Shit, you are clueless. When you walked into the room, he stood and stared you down with his mouth agape and his eyes glued to your ta-tas. They vampire sparkled, too, like, ‘Man I’d like to bite into some of what’s happening underneath that lab coat.’ You know, the whole blood-lust look a vampire gets in his eyes when he’s thinking he’d like to taste what he’s beholding.”
Chelsie felt her face warm. She’d missed that completely, but Tiffany wouldn’t embellish something that huge. The news did give her self-esteem a huge bump. She didn’t just hate the way her body looked, she despised it for turning on her. “I guess I am clueless, because I didn’t catch that at all. To me he just looked curious, but then I wasn’t really paying attention. My plate was kind of full at that particular juncture with my impending bombshell about to be dropped.”
“Yes, that. When are you planning on telling Mom and the rest of the family?”
Chelsie stifled a groan. “If you and Christian agree to help me, then I guess this weekend. I’ll probably call Mom Sunday afternoon. So will you do this for me, Tiffany?” Chelsie knew her sister worried, but she had to press the issue on a date for her turning. The headaches and nausea had become so bad, it was all she could do some days to crawl out of bed and get to the V clinic. She had a monster of a headache presently, and tonight the band played at Cajun Refugees. She loved to sing, but if this headache didn’t abate, she was going to have one miserable night ahead of her.
“Are you going to do this for me, Tiffany?”
The serious look on her sister’s face grew more intense as she studied her. “If Christian agrees to conduct the turning, I’ll donate my blood. But you still got shot down by Asa and Noah. You won’t be able to use the V clinic for this. So I don’t really know where this leaves you.”
“As long as you’re on my side and you’ll give me your blood, I’m still in the driver’s seat. Christian will find a way to help me do this safely. He won’t let me down and neither will you. But two weeks, T.J. I won’t wait a month. I’ve waited long enough.”
“You’re stubborn as hell.”
“Who isn’t when they want something bad enough and they know they’re right?”
“Whatever. What time is the band starting tonight?”
“Nine. You and Christian are still planning on being there, I hope?”
“Of course. Cajun Refugees is one hell of a gig. That place packs in some of the best country artists in the world, and my sister is now one of them. I’m proud of you, Chels. Are you sure you don’t want to do this for a living? You could you know. I’ve never met anyone with a set of pipes like yours.”
“I appreciate that, but I’m quite happy being a doctor. As much as I love singing, it’s still just a hobby.” She adjusted her glasses. Chelsie was very nervous about tonight—not just because she would be singing in front of nearly a thousand people in a rowdy bar, but because she was afraid she might not be able to rely on her body to get her through the night. Occasionally, when she exerted herself, she had fainting spells. Preforming demanded extreme exertion, and today had not been one of her good days physically.
“All right then. Christian and I will be there to cheer you on. In fact, I may ride with you. I’d like to help you get ready for tonight. You are still planning on wearing that red dress I bought you for this gig?”
Chelsie bit back a groan. “Tiffany, it’s too tight. I’d feel far more comfortable in jeans.”
Her jaw dropped, and her expression turned incredulous. “I just agreed to help you turn into a vampire—a decision I don’t feel good about—and you can’t wear a dress I spent a small fortune on?”
“Fine! I’ll wear it. But if I’m going to get to the club in time, I have to go home and get ready right away.”
“Then go. I’ll meet you at your place in a few. If Christian is still here, I’m going to tell him to meet us at Cajun Refugees.” She stood.
“Tell Christian I said thanks.” Chelsie winked.
Tiffany snorted then headed for the door. “Tell him yourself tonight.”
***
Asa turned off the conference room lights and locked the door. With his destination being his office, he headed down the maze of hallways. He’d just made a right turn when he ran into Tiffany—literally. “Whoa, Missy Lou. Are you okay?”
She laughed and brushed a stray curl out of her face. “I’m fine. Actually, I was looking for you.”
Asa arched a brow. “Why? If you’re here to plead your sister’s cause, there’s no need. Christian won’t leave her hanging if she’s determined to do this. Our stance remains the same. We all disagree with Chelsie’s decision, but none of us will allow her to risk her life with some shoddy, medically-unsupervised procedure. You should be trying to talk her out of this, you know, but from that guilty look you’re sporting, I’m guessing your sister got her way with you.”
“Yeah. I tried to reason with her, Asa, but she’s solid on this. Why, I don’t know, but I guess I can see her point. Now that I’m vampire, I do appreciate the fact I won’t need Botox for a couple centuries.”
He laughed. “It will probably be off the market for those purposes by then. I’m surprised it isn’t already. Women and their vanity, I suppose.”
“Speaking of women, I bet there’s something you don’t know about my sister.”
That piqued his interest because there was much he didn’t know about Chelsie and much he’d like to learn—like if she was dating. “Oh? Such as?”
Tiffany had a brown leather handbag slung over her shoulder. She pulled it off and began rifling through the thing. A few seconds later she produced what appeared to be a ticket for some sort of event. She handed it to him and said, “Like Chelsie is an up-and-coming country artist. She’s playing tonight at Cajun Refugees with her band, Twisted Dixie. Wanna come watch? Of course Christian and I will be there.”
Asa’s jaw dropped. There were many things Tiffany could have told him about Chelsie, but never in a million years would he have guessed this little deep dark secret she’d kept from him. Obviously, this band was a big thing. Cajun Refugees was the swa
nkest country/Cajun bar in the city.
He looked at the ticket, which indeed had the name Twisted Dixie and lead female vocalist, Chelsie Peebles embossed across the front and the date: 10/02/2029. There were other band member names he didn’t recognize. Asa was impressed. “Wow. She really sings in a band, huh? No, I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Is she any good?”
Tiffany snorted. “She’s playing at Cajun Refugees, Asa. Of course she’s good. The band started when she was back in high school. When she was in college, the band got offered a recording contract, but she turned it down for Harvard. Her decision broke up the band, but they’re back together now, better than ever.”
“Huh. Really?”
“Really.”
“Well, count me there. What time?”
“The band starts at nine, but you’d better get there early. I have no doubt it will be elbows and assholes at that place tonight. Standing room only.”
Asa laughed. He still couldn’t fathom Chelsie in a band. She was so quiet and controlled, but cute as hell. Chelsie singing on stage in a country band? He wasn’t going to miss that.
He could more easily imagine Tiffany as a country-western singer, because she was bottled up energy, a true-blue country girl, and a perfect match for his best friend and partner, Christian. Both he and Christian were from Texas originally. Ninety years of practicing vampire medicine kept them moving around a lot though. Uprooting one’s life when you were vampires went with the territory due to the aging aspect.
“I’ll be there. Save me a spot.” Asa tucked the ticket into the front pocket of his lab coat.
“Will do. Later.” She closed her purse and took off down the hall, headed toward the front of the building.
Once she was out of vampire earshot—which was quite a ways because their kind’s hearing was nearly as sharp as their stellar sense of smell—he let out a low whistle. Cajun Refugees was a nice gig for any band, and Asa had a feeling Chelsie would be dressed for the occasion. He let his mind wander to a vision of her ass bursting the seams of a tight pair of jeans and an equally tight V-necked shirt of some sort revealing ample cleavage.
Yeah, he’d be there all right. With bells on.
Chapter 3
Chelsie and Tiffany arrived at Cajun Refugees right on time at eight thirty. They used the alley entrance, manned by Josh, to get inside.
“Hi, Chelsie. You look great tonight,” the bouncer said as he opened the door for the two women.
“Thanks, Josh.” Chelsie glanced over at Tiffany walking beside her. Her sister wore a proud grin that rankled Chelsie’s ire.
They’d driven to the bar together, because for the last two hours, Tiffany had been painting her face and messing with her hair. She supposed she looked good. The results weren’t overkill, but she could have done without the hair sparkles and her contacts. She hated the things because they irritated her eyes, but Tiffany hadn’t let up until she had agreed to wear them.
Chelsie’s new cowboy boots, bright red to match the silly dress Tiffany had insisted she wear, made a clopping noise as she strode up the metal steps onto the stage. Chad and the rest of the band were already there getting set up for tonight’s performance.
“Woo hoo! Look at you, Chels,” Randy said then left his drums and approached her and Tiffany. “You look great tonight.”
“Thanks,” Chelsie muttered and tugged at the bottom of her dress which hit her a little above mid-thigh. She pursed her lips in frustration because the action caused the low-cut top of the dress to slide further down her chest. It was a skimpy, off-the-shoulder thing that she would have never chosen for herself. She couldn’t imagine Tiffany wearing such a thing either. Maybe their sister Dannie would wear something like this. Of the three of them, she was the one with the true eye for fashion.
What had Tiffany been thinking? Most likely that her normal attire for gigs—jeans and a western shirt—was too retro for a place as popular with today’s youth as Cajun Refugees. She was probably right. This was the first time Twisted Dixie had played at Cajun’s on a weekend night. From the stage, Chelsie glanced over the enormous crowd, noticing most were indeed college age.
Randy gave her another once over then smiled at Tiffany, who was dressed like Chelsie wished she was, in jeans, a T-shirt, and Ropers. “It’s been a long time, Tiffany. How ya doing? Heard you got hitched.”
Randy was the same age as Tiffany. They’d graduated the same year from the little Missouri high school they had all attended.
“Doing great. How’s Abby and your little boy? Sorry, what’s his name?”
Before he could answer, Chad joined their threesome. He snaked his arm around Chelsie’s waist, leaned down, and tried to kiss her. His black cowboy hat bumped her forehead, affording her the opportunity to avoid the unwanted lip lock.
He stepped back and grinned. “Wow. What happened to you?” Male appreciation glimmered in his cornflower blue eyes, his gaze settling on her chest.
Chelsie pulled away and folded her arms. “Apparently, Tiffany is going through some post-marital psychosis, and I have become her latest victim.”
Chad threw his head back and laughed then said to Tiffany, “Well, if this is your result of crazy, I hope you go there more often, T.J. You really look good, too, by the way. So where’s your new husband?”
Tiffany scanned the bar, which was teaming with rowdy patrons. “He’s not here yet, but I’ll introduce you to him later on when y’all break. So how have you been, Chad?”
“Great. Better since I got my Chels back.” This time he pulled off his hat as he leaned down to give her a kiss.
She allowed it in order to not make a scene in front of paying guests, who were ready and waiting for them to play. What she really wanted to do was spit and wipe her mouth with the back of her hand like Tweety Bird did when Sylvester the cat gave him a kiss.
“I see,” Tiffany said, a ghost of a grin hovering on her lips as she glanced between them.
Chelsie didn’t need a blood bond with her sister to read her mind. She obviously thought the same thing Chelsie was thinking, that Chad was still Chad, living in his own world. Believing what he wanted to believe.
Fifteen people could witness a train wreck and all tell the same story, but if Chad was one of them, his would be completely different and embellished. He’d always been an amazing storyteller with a great sense of humor and a larger-than-life personality. She’d always liked that about Chad. It was his pushiness that drove her nuts—that and his inability to listen. She’d told him emphatically over a dozen times they were not back together, but he just ignored her and pretended that they’d taken up where they’d left off well over a decade ago. God, he drove her nuts!
He was gorgeous though; she’d give him that. He sported thick black hair, a close-cropped beard, a deep tan—which he had paid for—and he was tall and well built. No wonder women flocked to him like flies to a milk barn. Years ago, that fact really bothered her. Now she wished he’d pick one of them and stick with that unfortunate woman.
“So what happened with Rose?” Tiffany asked Chad.
“Things didn’t work out.”
Chelsie bit back a grin when Chad gave Tiffany an aggravated look. Everyone knew what had happened between them. Rose Fairmont had replaced Chelsie as the lead female vocalist for Twisted Dixie shortly after Chelsie left for med school. She’d also replaced her as girlfriend to Chad for almost ten years. Apparently, she’d gotten fed up with Chad’s cheating too. She’d quit him and the band, which is why six months ago Chad called her, pleading with her to be their female singer again. She had told him he was crazy; she wasn’t about to move back to Missouri. Her medical career had just gotten under way. So Chad had come up with the idea to move the band to NOLA. With that factored into the equation, Chelsie had agreed to sing again as long as the gigs remained in New Orleans and surrounding cities.
Tiffany nodded then said, “Weren’t you and Rose together for around ten years?”
“Yeah.
So?”
“Ten years is a long time for a relationship, Chad. Sorry to hear about your breakup. I’m surprised in all that time the two of you never got hitched yourselves.”
“Like I said, things just didn’t work out,” he replied, his tone terse.
“Why not?”
Tiffany was really pushing his buttons, Chelsie observed, because a tick started in Chad’s right jaw. Good for you, T.J.
“She and I had different views on things, lots of things, which made me realize we weren’t right for each other.”
Tiffany gave him a snide little smile. “Yeah, different views. That’s gotta suck. I guess women these days just don’t put up with liars and cheats like they used to, huh?”
Chelsie couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing. So did Randy. Chad’s expression darkened, then he turned and walked back across the stage to the sound system he’d been setting up prior to their arrival. Randy bid Tiffany goodbye then went back to his drums.
She winked at her sister, a nonverbal “thank you” for the dig. It was 100 percent true, but Chad wasn’t going to admit even to himself that he was absolutely non-datable for any woman who possessed an ounce of self-respect and decency.
Tiffany lifted her head and sniffed, then her gaze cut to the front doors of the bar, a normal scenting gesture for a vampire. Chelsie followed her line of sight to Christian, who had just walked inside. When Chelsie saw who accompanied him, her eyes bulged and her stomach took a perilous nosedive. Oh, dear God, no! It was Asa!
She pinned Tiffany with a mutinous look. “You…you…traitor! You set me up!”
Tiffany chuckled wickedly. “Yep. Vampire blood don’t come cheap, girl.”
“What in the heck do you mean by that? Are you trying to blackmail me or something?” Chelsie demanded.
“Maybe. Let’s just call this a social experiment for my satisfaction. You have a thing for Asa. I just wanted to see if, in a social setting, he takes a shine to you.”
“You’re insufferable, you know that?”
She flashed a smug grin. “I have a feeling you may not be thinking that way by night’s end, based on the way Asa’s staring at you.” Her gaze slid across the massive building to the front entrance. Christian and Asa were in line to pay the cover charge for the event, and Asa was, indeed, staring at her.
Deadly Secrets (Forever and a Night Book 3) Page 3