by K. A. Linde
“ContraBand!” Hollis called. He shook Miller’s hand, fist-bumped McAvoy and Vin, and then clapped me on the back. “Glad you showed.”
“Bet you are,” I muttered under my breath.
“Guys, this is Mia Lu. She’s a face I hope you’re going to get to know around here. She’s our PR rep from Pacific. She keeps your ass in line.”
Mia gave him a thin-lipped smile of disapproval. She didn’t exactly look like the kind of chick I’d expect to work PR for a record company. She clearly had a fucking stick up her ass. I wondered if she liked it up the ass. In my experience, the girls who pretended to be prudes were usually total fucking freaks.
“So nice to meet you boys. I truly hope once you’re a part of the Pacific team, you won’t need my assistance as much as Hollis insinuates.” Her forced smile turned into a flat-out glare before she disappeared.
What the fuck was that about?
And they were awfully fucking sure that we were going to sign with them. By looking at my bros’ eager faces, maybe they had a reason to be. I wasn’t even sure I could convince my bandmates to give this up.
But if I needed to, I’d make a fucking effort.
Hollis gestured for us to follow him, and then we entered The Drift’s room backstage. As the door opened, a cloud of smoke billowed out.
The first thought I had when I entered the room was, Ari was going to fucking kill me.
If she had been pissed about what the backstage looked like at the Poconos music festival with The Drift, she’d fucking blow a gasket here.
Half-naked groupies littered the room. If I squinted through the smoke-filled room, I even recognized some of them. Jaci and someone…Jennifer maybe, were two of the girls who had been at Donovan’s penthouse party where I’d decked him.
I picked out the other guys in the band in different stages of inebriation. Ridley had his head in his hands, looking as if he might puke. Nic and Joey were cutting cocaine into a straight line in front of a blonde who had her tits out. Trevor was making out with some chick against the back wall. The only person I didn’t see was Donovan.
Then, he walked in from a door across the room—shirtless and zipping his fucking jeans.
In that moment, all I could picture was Donovan getting anywhere near my girl. Anger boiled through me, and McAvoy and Miller grabbed me before I’d even realized I started storming across the room.
Hollis laughed like an idiot next to me. He’d known this was going to happen. I could see it on his face. I was really fucking glad I hadn’t told Ari that I was coming up here with the guys tonight. She would never have been okay with me walking into this kind of shitstorm. I couldn’t tell her until I had everything figured out.
“Why don’t you guys grab a beer and relax? The set starts soon for the opener, and Drift will have a short meet-and-greet. No rush,” Hollis said.
“Actually,” I snapped, taking point and ignoring Miller’s exasperation, “I’d like to get this shit over with, Hollis. You dragged us out here. Let’s fucking talk.”
Hollis had a moment of anger blaze in his eyes before attempting to smother the initial reaction. It worked about as well as cheap cologne covering the smell of a men’s locker room.
“We can stay and have a beer first,” Miller said. “Right, guys?”
“You know I’m fucking down!” Vin said.
“No. McDermott is right,” Donovan chimed from across the room. He still hadn’t bothered with a shirt. “You should finish your business here and then get the fuck out.”
A chorus of laughter followed his outburst, and Miller tightened his grip on my arm. It was a silent plea to not fuck this up.
“With pleasure,” I growled.
“Now, now,” Hollis said. “We’re all adults here.” He sounded like a condescending parent. “If this all works out, then you guys will be working together.”
Donovan let out a short laugh that sounded more like a bark. “You’re going to need to fucking pay me more for that, Hollis.”
“You’ll get every penny you earned and not one more than that. Now, go put on a fucking shirt and meet your fans who paid to see you.”
As Donovan turned around, grumbling about not being able to find his shirt, Hollis directed us out of the room.
He led the guys into another room down the hallway, but then he pulled me aside. He spoke low so only I could hear, “Look, whatever went down between you and Donovan is in the past. This animosity needs to end. I believe in ContraBand, Grant. I want you in the studio. I want to release an album. I want you on the road with them. I want you headlining in the future. Work with him, and make everyone’s lives easier.”
I was momentarily shocked by his candid behavior, but then reality crept back in. Hollis would use anything and everything he could to get what he wanted. The truth was, he didn’t know what the fuck had gone down between Donovan and me. He was trying to get me to spill by offering me everything he thought I fucking wanted.
I shrugged away from him. He would have to try better than that. I gave him credit for realizing I was going to be the hardest sell but not that much credit.
“Let’s get this over with,” I grumbled.
Hollis grabbed my leather jacket and pulled me in close again. “I don’t fucking get you. When we first met, I thought I’d found exactly what I was looking for—the right band, the right sound, the right vibe. I’d thought Frank Boseley had been an idiot for passing on the whole group and just going for you because I saw it from the beginning. You only shine amid your guys. I get it. I know someone just fucking like that. His name is Donovan Jenkins, and he’s about to play for a sold-out show in New York City. His album debuted in the Top Ten of the Billboard charts. So, what the fuck is your problem? Don’t you fucking want that?”
“Yeah, man, I want that,” I told him without hesitation.
I fucking hated the dude, but maybe Hollis actually did understand. The only problem was, he didn’t get what Ari meant to me one bit.
“But if you ever interfere with my girl again, I’ll fucking end you,” I growled.
Hollis stuck his hand out. “Deal.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, but I don’t want to see The Drift.”
Translation: I don’t want to get anywhere near Donovan Jenkins or that fucking creep Hollis Tift.
“You don’t like them? I thought every girl liked them with that one song playing on repeat on the radio,” Henry said.
“‘Tell It Like It Is,’” I filled in for him.
“So, you do know it.”
“I think everyone knows that song.”
“Well, good. It’s not Paris, but it’ll have to do…for now,” he said like that closed the discussion.
I just rolled my eyes. Henry might have met me when I was depressed about Grant, so I had been slightly malleable, but under no circumstances would I consider myself that otherwise. And he was about to see it firsthand.
“I’m not going to The Drift concert. I don’t like them or their music. In fact, I despise their lead singer. He’s an asshole.”
“You speak as if you know him personally.” Henry looked over at me with interest.
“Whatever. Just tell me why you’re doing all of this.”
“It’s your birthday weekend. I like Jim, and I want to take care of his daughter tonight.”
The way he said that made me question exactly how he wanted to take care of me. I knew what Grant would be thinking in this moment even though I wasn’t sure if he was exactly an accurate representation of the male population. But the way Henry’s eyes seemed to be laughing at his own implications, I was sure he was talking about having sex with me.
“Do I need to reiterate that I have a boyfriend?”
“Of course not,” he said mockingly. “He comes up every time we’re alone.”
“I’m glad you got the memo then. So, let’s turn this cab around. I want to sleep.”
“I didn’t realize you were in such a hurry.” He arched an ey
ebrow in question and leaned toward me. He was visibly holding himself back from touching me.
“I’m in a hurry to get some sleep. Just sleep. Plus, I have homework to do.” I would have all day tomorrow to do it, but that didn’t matter. I’d been working my ass off to make up for that bad grade in O-chem, and I needed to keep it up. I wanted any excuse to get away from Henry.
“Well, we’re celebrating my promotion, too, and I want to take you to this concert, so we’re going. I can be as stubborn as you are.”
Apparently, that really was the end of the conversation because he didn’t take to any of the other attempts I’d made at trying to change his mind. He just sent me a devilish smile and cast his deep blue eyes over my face. I gave up, crossing my arms over my chest and sinking back into the deflated cushion.
Soon enough, the cab pulled up in front of Beacon Theatre. Henry handed over a few bills before helping me out of the vehicle. I reluctantly walked into the building. Our tickets were scanned, and the attendant let us know the opening band had already started playing—as if it wasn’t obvious by the noise coming from the theater.
And it really was noise. The Drift needed a better opener than this. What were they thinking?
I was so lost in my thoughts about the opening band that I didn’t realize Henry wasn’t walking us into the auditorium seating, but toward a roped-off door.
“Box seats?” I asked, confused. I wasn’t familiar with Beacon Theatre, and I didn’t know the layout.
“Better.”
It wasn’t until I was already backstage, staring at the dwindling line of squealing teen girls, that I fully comprehended what Henry had meant by better.
I stopped dead in my tracks. “No.”
Henry gave me a perplexed look. “Come on. Backstage passes,” he said, flashing the shiny passes he’d held back from view until that moment.
“Don’t care.”
I turned to go, but Henry latched on to my arm. “What’s with you?”
“I said no,” I spat at him. “Are you fucking deaf? I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to see the band. I don’t want to meet them. Now, let me go and stop this ridiculous charade. We both know why you’re doing all of this, and it’s not going to work.”
Then, I heard his laugh from over my shoulder. I could practically feel his green eyes boring into my back. When I turned around, Donovan was smiling as if he’d just won the lottery, and I was the cash prize.
I groaned as Donovan abandoned the group of girls vying for his attention and strolled over to me. “Now, that is a face I’ve missed seeing.” His eyes flickered to Henry and then back to me. He arched an eyebrow. I knew he was enjoying this. “New beau, beautiful?”
Henry looked stunned, which was the only good part about this entire ordeal.
“Hello, Donovan.”
“Did you miss me?”
“Hardly. We were just leaving, weren’t we?”
“You know the lead singer personally?” Henry asked.
“Astute deductive reasoning skills. I’m going to give you an award for your brilliance,” I said dryly.
“How do you know him?” Henry asked.
“Well, there was this time over New Year’s—” Donovan began.
I slapped him on the chest. “Do not finish that sentence.” I glowered at him.
Henry stared between Donovan and me as realization seemed to cross his face. “So, when you said he was an asshole, you meant because you guys were together,” he guessed.
I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Yes, I’m a total groupie slut. Obviously. That’s how I know everyone. Let me call up Adam Levine and John Mayer. We’re like besties.” The sarcasm dripped off of every single word. I couldn’t hold back my disdain and disbelief that this was happening.
“Oh, come on,” Donovan said, laughter in his eyes. “An asshole is all you’ve got? I distinctly remember you comparing me to the wolf in ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ and something about acting as if I were from the sixteenth century or something. I know you have better comebacks.”
“Seventeenth century. And you are an asshole, Donovan. I’m glad Grant got in a good hit. You deserved it.”
“Who is Grant?” Henry asked.
Donovan stuck a thumb out at Henry. “He doesn’t know about your boyfriend?”
“Stop! Both of you. This is enough. I’m leaving.” I spun on my heel and started for the door.
“Huh. Interesting,” Donovan mused.
I was not going to give in to him.
“I thought you were here to see him, and I just got to you first.”
My stomach twisted, and my heart thumped wildly in my chest. What was he talking about? No, he was baiting me. I wouldn’t ask. Regardless, my steps slowed.
“Now, I’m starting to wonder if you even know he’s signing.”
That stopped me short.
“Signing?” I asked. My voice came out breathy.
“He’s in there with Hollis right now.”
My mouth dropped open. Donovan was a liar. This couldn’t be true. Grant would never sign with Pacific without at least talking to me about it. I didn’t have any delusions that I would change his mind. This was everything the band wanted, but I wanted to be a part of the process. It was a life-altering decision after all.
An Asian woman came over and tapped Donovan’s shoulder before speaking softly in his ear.
“Well, I have a show to play right now. If it doesn’t work out, stick around. I’d be happy for a revenge fuck or, you know, whatever you’re into.” He threw out the suggestion so casually that I couldn’t even respond before he walked away.
“So, your boyfriend is in a band?” Henry asked with barely concealed humor. “No wonder you didn’t say anything else to your father.”
“I can’t talk about this right now.”
“Do you want to go?”
Yes, I really did. I didn’t want to stand here and wonder if Grant was backstage, talking to Hollis and signing a recording contract. I didn’t want to wonder why he had lied to me and held back information after our big blowup about communicating. He’d known I was coming into the city to meet my father for dinner. Had he used that as his excuse to get out of telling me about it?
This wasn’t exactly something he could hide. I’d find out what was going on one way or another. Eventually, ContraBand would record an album and go on tour. Why hide it?
My overactive brain raced through possibilities that I wanted nothing more than to ignore. I wouldn’t jump to conclusions. Maybe he was just here to talk to Hollis and find out what the fuck he wanted. Maybe it wasn’t a recording contract. Maybe Grant hadn’t come to a decision. Maybe…
Maybe I should leave.
But I couldn’t.
“No, I should stay. You should go.”
“I’m not leaving you here alone.”
“What part of go don’t you understand? I’m not a child. I can take care of myself.”
“You’re the boss’s daughter. I’m not abandoning you in New York City while backstage at a rock concert with some asshole lead singer and your supposed boyfriend. I’ll take my chances with those odds,” Henry said. Crossing his arms, he gave me a look that said arguing with him would be like trying to take down a brick wall with my bare hands.
I threw up my hands in defeat and wandered further backstage. I was stopped almost immediately by a staff member.
“I’m just looking for ContraBand.”
“Sorry. No ContraBand here,” he said. “This is The Drift show.”
“Yeah, I realize.” I tried to contain my sarcasm while I talked to this idiot. It was difficult with the mood I was in. “But another band came in here to talk to the manager for Pacific Entertainment. I’m looking for them.”
“Haven’t seen another band, and the meet-and-greet is over. So, you should probably get to your seats. The Drift will be playing shortly.”
I cursed under my breath and then walked back to Henry.
“No luck?” He gave me this sly smile that said everything I needed to know.
“I’m just going to wait here.”
“Suit yourself.”
Goddamn smug smile.
“Good doing business with you boys,” Hollis said, shaking our hands.
I couldn’t believe this was happening. After all this time, we were going to get signed. Our dreams were becoming a reality. Everything was fucking falling into place. It felt too good to be true. Victory showed on everyone’s faces.
Miller wanted to have a lawyer present before we signed, or we probably would have gone through with the whole thing tonight. The terms Hollis had suggested sounded fucking awesome. I didn’t know how it had happened, but in the space of a conversation, I was sold.
“I’ll be in contact when we have the contract in place.”
Vin was the first out the door, barreling through it like a bulldozer leveling a building. “Fuck yeah. We’re going to be on a fucking world tour soon. I’m going to get all sorts of foreign pussy.”
McAvoy laughed. “More likely, foreign dick.”
Vin punched him, but it was halfhearted. Even Vin couldn’t get upset right now, which was saying something.
I was on cloud nine. “Thanks for dragging me out here tonight,” I told Miller.
“Someone has to be the sane and rational one in the group.”
“Well, it’s not Vin.”
We both looked up at our friend and shook our heads.
“Definitely not.” Miller scratched the back of his head. “I hate to bring this up because I don’t want to burst your bubble. But…Ari?”
My steps slowed. “What about her?”
“You going to talk to her about this? I know it’s none of my fucking business, but I do like the sanity-inducing effect she has on your idiotic self. I don’t want this to come out of left field.”
“Let’s get a fucking drink!” Vin called as we exited the hallway.
“It won’t come out of left field. Ari gets it,” I confidently told him. “It’ll be fine.”