Dirty Games (A MFM Ménage Romance) (The Dirty Series Book 3)

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Dirty Games (A MFM Ménage Romance) (The Dirty Series Book 3) Page 8

by Tara Crescent


  I stay calm. So Chris knew what today’s meeting was about. “Yeah, that’s unfortunate, but we’ll live. No harm done.”

  Andy sounds unhappy. “I’m not so sure about that,” he says. “Chris can’t get to the four of us, but he still has another target.”

  Nina.

  Chris already thinks Nina’s the reason we didn’t bite at his Asia tour. The last time he talked to Nina, he lied to her, told her that we had extended our tour, and she’d left us. In the aftermath, Scott and I had been so shattered that we’d ended up doing what Chris wanted, too depressed to fight back.

  Chris doesn’t want us to stop touring; he definitely doesn’t want us to break up. Going after Nina worked once.

  “That’s why he’s not here,” I say aloud, as the pieces fall into place. Of course. While we’re in Manhattan, Chris is free to pour his poisonous words into Nina’s ear, to make her believe that the Evolving Whistle is more important than she is.

  We have to go back right away. Before it’s too late.

  17

  Nina:

  Scott and Zane spend Wednesday night at my place, but they leave early on Thursday. “We have to go to Manhattan,” Scott says, “but we should be back by the evening.”

  I wait for him to volunteer more information, but he doesn’t, and I don’t ask. Look, Nina, I lecture myself, they told you they want a second chance, and Scott told you he’s making an offer for your building. Things are good. You don’t want to be the kind of girlfriend that needs to know where her men are all the time, do you? Because that’s insane.

  “Have fun,” I tell them brightly. “I’ll be working this evening if you decide you want a drink when you get back.”

  Since I’m awake already, I head to the Merry Cockatoo. There’s always something to do when you run a bar. A keg from a new brewery was badly off; we had complaints about skunky beer from three different customers before we pulled the tap. I’ve been trying to call them to bitch about their quality control, but they never pick up their phone. I’m determined to track them down today.

  Then there’s the day-to-day stuff. Reagan needs to take some time off next week to shop for a used car. Patrick took a look at hers and pronounced it unsafe to drive, and I trust James’ father implicitly. I have to adjust staff hours, order food and drink, pay bills… the list is endless.

  The bar is empty when I get in. I head straight to my office and lose myself in work, not looking up until I hear a loud series of knocks on the door shortly after ten.

  Lucas must have forgotten his key, I think. That’s not like him. I get up to let him in, but when I unlock the front door and wrench it open, it isn’t Lucas standing there.

  It’s the last person I expected to see again.

  Chris Muller, the band manager of the Evolving Whistle, is standing in front of me, a serious expression on his face. “Nina,” he says, “we need to talk.”

  Wordlessly, I step aside, and he walks in. His gaze sweeps over the interior of the Merry Cockatoo. “Nice bar,” he says dismissively.

  The last thing in the world I want is to make small talk with this man, so I cut to the chase. “Why are you here, Chris?”

  “Because Zane and Scott are making a terrible mistake,” he responds. “They’re planning on moving to this stupid, dead-end town. They’re abandoning the band.” He glares at me. “Because of you.”

  My first, instinctive reaction is to feel guilty, but I stiffen my spine. “They’re adults,” I say coolly, “they’re capable of deciding what makes them happy.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Nina,” he snaps. “They’ve always had a blind spot for you. You give them a come-hither smile, you spread your legs, and bam.” He clicks his fingers together. “The only brains they’re thinking with right now is the one between their legs.”

  I wrap my arms around my chest. “I don’t care what your opinion of our relationship is, Chris.” It’s freezing in the bar. I should turn up the heat before we open. “I don’t understand why you’re here. If you have a problem with Scott and Zane, you should try talking to Scott and Zane.”

  “Do you know where they are right now, Nina?” Chris correctly interprets my blank look, and the sneer on his face grows. “No, of course not. They’re in Manhattan, having brunch with an acquisitions executive at Sony. They’ve been offered a three-album deal. They’ll have a week to make up their minds, but you know what Zane told me? No matter what Andy wants, no matter what Jeremy wants, he’s going to turn it down. Because of you.”

  No. They can’t do that. Zane’s voice sounds in my head. As much as I want a record deal, I’m not holding my breath. I’d have better odds winning the lottery.

  I can’t let them pass this up. Not for me. I can’t live with that hanging over my head. One day, they’re going to look at me, and they’re going to realize that I was never worth the fuss, and I can’t face that look in their eyes. I can’t face their regret.

  The front door swings open, and Lucas walks in. When he catches sight of my expression, his eyes turn concerned. “Nina, is everything okay?”

  “Yeah.” My voice is barely a whisper. “Everything’s fine.”

  “Think about what I said, Nina.” Chris rises to his feet. “Break it off with them. You know it’s the right thing to do.”

  Chris Muller is a slimeball who’s never done anything unless it benefited him in some way. The reason he’s here is for his cut of this three-record deal, not because he cares about Zane and Scott.

  It doesn’t matter because he’s right.

  There is only one thing to do, and that’s to end it with Scott and Zane. Tonight.

  18

  Scott:

  If I get my hands on Chris Muller, so help me God, I will wrap my fingers around his throat and squeeze until he stops breathing.

  “This is my fault,” Zane says bleakly as we speed back to New Summit. “I wanted to tell Chris in person, not over the phone. I suggested brunch at Lafayette. I played right into his hands.”

  “Are we playing the blame game?” I ask, passing a slow-moving Buick that’s hogging the left lane. “I’m the one who didn’t tell Nina where we were going. I’m the one who wanted our meeting with Chris to be a surprise.” Nina seems happy, but underneath, I sense she’s still a little uneasy. I thought it was because we hadn’t talked to our manager. My lips curl into a bitter smile. “Some fucking surprise it’s turning out to be.”

  “No, that’s bullshit.” Zane dials Nina’s phone number again, his face etched with frustration. We’ve tried calling her ever since we barreled out of Lafayette, but she won’t answer her phone. A cold shiver trickles down my spine. When it’s truly important, Nina doesn’t fight back. She retreats.

  She’s retreating now. I can sense it.

  “This isn’t our fault, not this time,” Zane continues. “No, this is on Chris. We are going to find Nina, we are going to explain what happened, and then, we’re going to fire the bastard for this stunt. We are going to fix this mess.”

  I hope so, buddy. I really hope you’re right.

  It’s three in the afternoon by the time we get back to New Summit. We head straight to the Merry Cockatoo, where Nina was planning on spending most of the day, but she’s nowhere to be seen. The bar’s almost empty. Only one table is occupied, by two women, their heads bent in conversation. Lucas is behind the bar, his head bent over his phone.

  He looks up when we walk in, and his expression turns hostile. “You two,” he says disgustedly. “What do you want?”

  “Where’s Nina?” I snap. I’m not in the mood for this guy’s bullshit.

  “Fuck off, buddy,” he retorts. “The way I see it, ever since you guys walked into Nina’s life, you’ve done nothing but make her miserable. You and your friends.”

  “Wait,” Zane says sharply. “What friend?”

  The bartender seems to wage an internal war with himself, but then he relents. “Blond guy,” he says. “Slicked back hair. Dressed in a suit and tie.”r />
  That’s our manager.

  “He talked to Nina?” My voice is urgent. “Did you hear what he said? We drove by her house, and her car wasn’t in the driveway. She’s not picking up her phone. Where is she?”

  “If she doesn’t want to talk to you, I’m not going to tell you where she is.” Lucas crosses his arms over his chest, a stubborn expression on his face. “I’ve told you enough.”

  “For fuck’s sake,” Zane bursts out. “We are not the bad guys here. We love Nina. This is all a stupid misunderstanding caused by our manager, and as soon as we find Nina and tell her the truth, we’re going to fire his lying ass.”

  The women at the table look up at Zane’s outburst. I recognize one of them. She’s Nina’s friend, Maggie, the one who works in the only Chinese restaurant in this town. She fixes us with a stern look. “You love Nina?”

  “Yes,” I reply without hesitation.

  Her expression remains skeptical. “Then why didn’t you tell her about your record deal?” she asks pointedly. “You shouldn’t have kept it a secret from her.”

  “What record deal?” Zane asks blankly.

  “The one that you were in Manhattan to turn down,” she replies.

  I frown. “We went to Manhattan today,” I say slowly, “to tell our manager that we’re going to retire the band. We were due to meet him for brunch, but he never showed.”

  Maggie’s eyes go wide. “He was here,” she says. “He told Nina that it was her fault that you were turning down a three-record deal.”

  “He lied,” I say flatly. “It’s something of a trademark of his.”

  The two women exchange glances. “Fine,” Maggie says at last. “Don’t make me regret this. Nina’s on her way to my family cabin. It’s an hour away.” She gives me the address. “She only left thirty minutes ago,” she adds. “She’s probably taking the back roads, so you might even be able to catch her before she gets there.”

  “Thank you,” I say, my voice fervent with gratitude. “I promise you, you won’t regret this.”

  19

  Nina:

  For twenty minutes, I drive on autopilot, blinking tears from my eyes so that I can see the road. Scott and Zane have called my phone repeatedly, but I can’t talk to them, not yet.

  How can I let them turn down a three-record deal? I can’t do that. They might be okay with their decision today, but down the line, they’re going to watch some other band make it big, and they’re going to think—that could have been us.

  If Zane and Scott look at me with resentment in their eyes, I don’t think I could stand it. I’m not strong enough.

  They must have known that I would react this way. That’s why they didn’t tell me about the deal—they must have known that I’d want them to take it. That just makes me angrier. Had they told me about it, maybe we could have figured out what to do together. Instead, they made a decision for me, and I’m furious about their high-handedness.

  Umm Nina? My conscience prods me uncomfortably. Isn’t that a case of the pot calling the kettle black? Weren’t you going to do the same thing to Zane and Scott before Maggie yelled some sense into your head?

  The situation isn’t the same, I try to reason, but I know I’m making excuses. I thought Scott and Zane should focus on the band, so I was going to win the game and ask them to leave New Summit, without giving our relationship a chance.

  Scott and Zane are doing the same thing. They think they should focus on me, so they’re turning down a record deal instead of giving their band a chance.

  But I don’t want a relationship like that.

  You promised them you wouldn’t forget rule two, Nina.

  Twenty months ago, I ran away from them. I don’t want to run again; I want to fight. If I fail after trying, so be it, but I want to look back and say—I did everything I could.

  And so I do something I’ve never done before. I hit the brakes, and the car slides to a stop, and I crank the steering wheel, make a U-turn on the deserted country road, and head back to new Summit.

  This time, I’m going to face my fears.

  I’m ten minutes away from home when I see Scott’s car barreling toward me. He’s driving thirty miles over the speed limit, racing away in the opposite direction. I lean on my horn to get their attention, and the car screeches to a halt, before backing up.

  It’s a good thing there’s no one in sight. If Joe Laramie were here, Scott would be getting one hell of a speeding ticket.

  Scott pulls off into the shoulder, and the two of them get out. We stare at each other across the country road. “Nina?” Scott says hesitantly.

  “Chris lied,” Zane blurts out.

  “What?”

  “There’s no record deal,” Zane says. “That was just Chris trying to drive a wedge between us.”

  I know Chris likes to play fast and loose with the truth, but surely he couldn’t have thought that a lie of this magnitude would stay undiscovered. Then again, he would have counted on me running away.

  “He’s right, though.” I stay where I am, leaning against my car, on my side of the road. “I can’t ask you to give up your band for me. I can’t be that selfish.”

  “Did Chris say that? That you’re the reason we’re dissolving the band?” Zane shakes his head, a small smile playing about on his lips. “Nina, I love you, but if you think that we’re sacrificing our band and our careers for you, you have it totally wrong.”

  I gape at him, my mouth open. I’m not sure which part of that extraordinary sentence to focus on. Zane telling me he loves me, or the part about them not making the sacrifice for me.

  Zane continues talking. “Nina, do you know why we’re in New Summit?”

  “To sell your dad’s subdivision.”

  “But do you know why I’m here instead of my dad? Because after putting up with a lifetime of being married to a compulsive workaholic, my mom had enough. She left my father.”

  I can’t say I’m shocked by the news. I don’t think David Marshall has ever taken a vacation in his life, and Barbara Marshall is the most patient woman in the world.

  “And my dad,” Zane continues, “finally came to his senses and realized what’s important.” He gives me a steady look. “I don’t want to go more than thirty years to discover what truly matters to me, Nina. When you knocked on the door, yelled at us and told us to leave town, I knew what I’d lost.”

  He takes a step into the empty road. “I’m not taking a step back from the band because of you, Nina,” he says steadily. “I’m doing this for me. You make me happy, and I want to hold on to you. Call me selfish, but I want to love you for the rest of my life.”

  Without conscious thought, I inch forward.

  “For months after you left, Nina,” Scott says, “I lost the ability to make music. We had an album to produce, and I had no songs, no lyrics. I was empty.” He takes a deep breath. “When the three of us were together, Nina, I felt whole.” He takes a step into the road as well. “I don’t care if I never write another song again, Nina. Evolving Whistle is just a band. But losing you, Nina, will shatter me.”

  He takes another step forward. They’re both standing in the way of oncoming traffic, and I want to yell at them and tell them to stop being idiots, but my tongue is frozen. My feet, however, know what to do. They mirror Scott and Zane, and I step into the road as well, meeting them in the middle.

  “We were all unhappy,” Scott says softly. “But Chris kept us so busy we didn’t have time to realize that. No matter what happens between the three of us, I’m not going back to that life again. That isn’t the happy ending I want.”

  I take a deep breath and jump off the deep end, no safety net in sight. They’ll catch me.

  “The happy ending I want,” I whisper, “has both of you in it.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “We live in New Summit, and I run the Merry Cockatoo, and every night, I come home to the two of you. Because I love you.”

  “I like that happy ending,” Zane says. “One modi
fication. On the nights you’re working late, when you leave the bar and go outside, we’ll be there, because I worry about you driving home late at night.”

  I blink my eyes rapidly. Stupid tears.

  “Once I buy your building,” Scott adds, “I’ll pop into the Merry Cockatoo at lunch from time to time, thrilled because I just booked an amazing band. And we’ll call Zane, and the three of us will open a really good bottle of beer to celebrate.”

  The feeling of lightness in my chest expands, and my heart feels like it might burst. “That’s a good story.”

  Scott and Zane put their arms around me, and I hold tight to both of them. “It’s not a story, Nina,” Zane says. “It’s our future if we reach out and grab onto it.”

  Snowflakes flutter down from the sky. It’s freezing. We’re standing in the middle of the road, the visibility is absolutely terrible, and at any moment, a car could ram into the three of us.

  But in their arms, I’ve never felt warmer or safer in my life.

  “Tonight,” I whisper, “is the final night of the game.”

  “No, Nina,” Scott corrects me. “It’s the first night of the rest of our lives.”

  I grin at the two of them. “I like the way you think,” I tell Scott. “Let’s go home and make it memorable.”

  Epilogue

  Nina:

  Three months later…

  It’s spring in New Summit, and everything’s pretty damn perfect.

  “Well, well,” Zane says teasingly, “look who’s in a good mood today.”

  “The sun’s finally out,” I retort. Okay, I admit I might be a little crabby when it’s cold and dark all the time. “It’s been a long, miserable winter, and it’s warm outside. I’m so happy that I don’t even mind that I have to work.”

 

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