Brek still hadn’t shown up.
“You’re doing great,” Jase whispered in her ear.
“Do you think Brek’s okay?” Velma glanced to the slice of strawberry crumb cake on her dessert plate.
“Sometimes his job gets so crazy he can’t keep a schedule. It’s always been this way. What time was his meeting?” Jase raised his voice over his siblings who were arguing about something in Russian. Velma really hoped they weren’t fighting about hiring her.
“He was supposed to be done three hours ago.” The Dimefront guys agreed to play tonight in Denver at one of the clubs. Brek said it’d remind them why they do the gigs, keep themselves clean. It was a huge breakthrough for Brek.
Before the set, they were getting together for drinks and then he swore on his…manhood…that he’d meet Velma at the Dvornakovs’ as soon as he got them settled. She’d been a nervous wreck preparing for the evening.
Velma lined up her dessert fork with the plate. “I’m starting to worry.”
“Tellin’ ya, relax. He’s fine. Have some vodka.” He topped off the glass she had barely touched. “Takes all the worries away.”
She pushed the drink toward him. “Can’t. I’m driving.”
“Velma, relax. We don’t bite,” Anna hollered over the mayhem. Of the four Dvornakov children, Anna was the eldest—in charge of the Colorado Springs shops and extremely enthusiastic to have Velma managing their finances.
Of course, relax, relax, relax. Velma drew in a deep breath and let it out.
“She lies. Anna bites. I have the scars to prove it,” Zak, the youngest brother, chimed in. He leaned his arms across the width of the table, tapping at a small scar.
Jase grabbed the forearm and studied the puckered mark. “Pretty sure he got that at a brothel in Belgium.”
Velma shifted in her seat. Brek would know what to say to something like that. Her? Well, nothing came to mind. She glanced at the clock on the wall and back to the empty chair next to her—an exclamation point to the evening, since they were already at the dessert course.
She dismissed her disappointment and shoved up the long sleeves of her striped dress, pointing to a small crescent-shaped scar on her elbow. “My twin sister bit me when I was ten. Three stitches.”
“Sisters are the worst,” Zak agreed, tossing a smirk to Anna.
“Badass. I hope you bit her back.” Jase raised his hand to give Velma a high five.
She lightly tapped her palm to his.
Her fingers itched to check her phone again, but that would be rude. She had looked at it ten minutes ago when she’d slipped off to the bathroom—for the third time in an hour. Brek hadn’t reached out, and he wasn’t answering her calls and texts.
“Can I just point out how much I love that Jase got a financial planner who shows her scars at dinner?” Anna raised her glass in a toast. “To Velma. I think it’s fair to say we’re all on board for working with you.”
“Velma, ven is the vedding?” Babushka rasped in her thick accent. She sat across the table as she spooned strawberry sauce onto her plate.
“Sorry?” Velma asked, scooting in so she could hear the old woman better.
“You and our Jason, you vill be married soon, yes?” Babushka raised a bushy eyebrow.
Velma frowned. She must have misheard.
“And then the grandchildren vill come.” Babushka clapped her hands and stood, raising her glass. She tapped a spoon against the side. The rowdy table went silent.
“A toast, to my future granddaughter. May she and Jason be happy forever and have many babies.” She smiled a toothy grin and beamed at Velma.
Jase choked on a bit of cake and grabbed Velma’s vodka, downing it in three gulps and banging on his chest. Velma glanced around the table at the shocked faces.
“You’re a couple?” Jase’s father asked, confusion marking his expression.
“Velma’s not my girlfriend,” Jase said on a wheeze.
“We’re not together.” Velma shook her head against the sudden urge to climb under the tablecloth and hide. “I’m seeing Brek.”
“She’s Brek’s girl, Babushka.” Anna laid a hand on the elderly woman’s shoulder.
“No,” Babushka replied, pointing a crooked finger at Velma and giving her a good once-over. “You are not girl for Brek.” She gestured to Jase. “She is girl for you.”
Jase scrubbed a hand over his face. “Babushka—”
“She’s not exactly Brek’s type.” Anna wiped her lips with her napkin.
Velma’s heart sank. Of course she knew this. She didn’t need it rubbed in.
“Too much sophisticated for him.” Babushka shoved a forkful of cake in her mouth.
“I’ve seen some of Brek’s hookups. They’re nothing like you,” Anna assured.
“They’re hella fun to look at, though,” Zak replied. “There was this one time he came to the shop with—”
“Shut up, idiot.” Jase reached across the table to smack Zak across the head.
Velma caught her breath. She so didn’t want to think about Brek’s type or the girls he used to sleep with.
“You’re not one of his hookups. It’s a good thing. Have more dessert.” Anna scooted the strawberry cake toward Velma.
“This girl, she does not deny. Jason, you will buy her kol’tso and make children for me to spoil.” Babushka nodded.
“I’m not buying her a ring.” Jase dropped his forehead to his hand. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Mama, leave the kids alone. This is a business dinner,” Jase’s father boomed.
Babushka snorted in reply and went back to stabbing at her cake.
Velma poked at a berry on her plate with a fork, her chest heavy. Brek said he loved her, so the words from a confused old woman and Jase’s sister shouldn’t have had any impact.
Only they struck close to home because these people knew Brek way better than Velma did. She probably was strung too tight for someone like him. That didn’t matter, though. They were figuring things out. Maybe. If he would just show up, already.
“If you’d bring a girl home more often, you wouldn’t confuse her,” Anna stage-whispered across the table to Jase, scrunching her forehead.
“If he brought girls home more often, he’d just confuse her more,” Zak replied, slicing another piece of cake. “We’d have a wedding every week.”
“The vedding is next veek?” Babuska asked Jase. “This is fast. Fast is best.”
“Yup, next week. Why wait when you’ve met the perfect girl?” Jase nodded to Velma and poured more vodka.
Velma’s jaw dropped to her toenails. “Stop,” she muttered and snatched the bottle, setting it beside Brek’s unused plate.
“Where did you propose?” Babushka’s eyes lit with joy.
“At the shop, yesterday. We’re all very excited,” Jase said, deadpan.
Velma stomped on his foot under the table. “Stop.”
“Jason,” his mother said in what had to be her best listen-to-your-mother tone.
“What?” He shoved another bite into his mouth. “She thinks we’re together. Might as well play along. Right, Sugar Lips?”
Velma stared at him, unable to close her mouth.
“She’ll forget tomorrow, anyway.” He shrugged. “Toss me more vodka so I can forget, too.”
“No more alcohol for you. And, seriously, ‘Sugar Lips’?” Velma pinched her not-sugary lips together.
“Tastes just like strawberries.” He winked at her.
She blinked, her cheeks burning. “What?”
Brek wouldn’t have told anyone what she’d done on the couch.
“Strawberries. Sugar Lips. Tell me I’m not the only one who gets that?” He held up his fork with a strawberry stabbed in the tines.
Velma opened her mouth and closed it again. Her phone vibrated in her purse. Thank goodness… It had to be Brek.
“Would you excuse me?” She grabbed her bag and pushed out her chair.
“Not a
problem, Sweet Potato.” Jase grinned up at her as she stood.
She pulled out her phone and clicked it on without checking the screen as she headed toward the sitting room. “Hello?”
“Velma? It’s Pam.”
Velma’s heart stopped. She gripped the back of the sofa. Had something happened to Brek?
“Is Brek okay?” she asked, gripping the upholstery harder.
“I was hoping you could tell me,” his mother said, exasperated. “I’ve been trying to reach him for hours. Aspen’s water broke. We’re at the hospital. They say it shouldn’t be long now, and I figured he’d want to meet his nephew.”
Velma’s breaths went shallow. Brek had said a couple of days ago it was still too early. “Is she okay? Is the baby okay?”
“Everyone’s fine. Baby’s got the all clear to come. I thought Brek was with you?”
Velma shifted her phone to the other ear. “No, he had a meeting tonight. But I’ll go find him and make sure he gets there. Are you at St. Luke’s?”
“Yes. Hang on.” Pam mumbled something in the background before returning. “Let me know when he’s on his way?”
“Of course. I’ll be in touch.” Muscles in Velma’s neck cinched tight.
“Thanks, dear.” Pam disconnected.
He’d mentioned offhand the name of the club—what was it?
Velma clicked off her phone and tried Brek. He didn’t answer. She shoved a hand through her hair as she waited for his voice mail. “Brek, it’s me. Aspen’s at St. Luke’s. Baby’s coming. I’m on my way to find you…call me.”
Velma tossed her phone in her bag and hurried back to Jase. “Aspen’s having the baby. I need to get to Brek to tell him. Can you help me find him?”
She’d already brought up the search engine on her phone to check social media for the club name.
Jase dabbed his napkin against his lips. “By all means, let’s go clubbing. Thanks for dinner, Mom. I’ve got to take my fiancée to find her boyfriend.”
“Nice to meet you. We’ll talk next week?” Anna rose and squeezed Velma in a hug. The Dvornakovs were loud, and they were huggers. Velma would have to get used to both.
“Perfect.” Velma turned to go, but Babushka waited behind her, arms wide. Velma leaned down to squeeze her.
“Grandbabies come soon, yes?” the old woman asked.
Velma glanced up to Jase and glared.
“Nah, we want to wait and get to know each other better.” Jase tugged Velma’s sleeve. “C’mon, Baby Cakes. You’re driving.”
“Because…vodka?”
“Yup,” he replied, heading toward the front door. “Whisk me away in your chariot.”
They ended up parking over four blocks away from the club. Apparently, word had spread quickly of Dimefront’s impromptu gig. Dozens of paparazzi hung out on the sidewalk in front of the expansive nightclub. The corded line to get inside wrapped all the way around the building.
People spilled into the alley and lounged on curbs while police lights flashed nearby. Velma’s stomach twisted itself into knots. How would she ever find Brek in this mess?
“Well, this is a cluster.” Jase zipped up his windbreaker jacket with The Flower Pot’s company logo across the back.
“We could try reasoning with the bouncer.” Velma nodded toward the hulky guy with the buzz cut standing guard at the entrance.
Jase squinted at the crowd that grew by the second. “Or you could flash your tits. That might work better.”
Velma’s cheeks burned. She refused to look at Jase. “This isn’t Mardi Gras.”
“Ahh…but it could be. See? I wouldn’t even peek at yours, because they belong to my buddy and that would be wrong.” He gave her a look like he was teaching a really important first-grade lesson. “The key is, you’ll start a trend. It’ll be like a wave at a stadium, but way better.”
“I can see why you and Brek are friends.” She refused to acknowledge his suggestion with anything more. Instead, she squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “I’m going in.”
“Right behind you,” Jase said, gesturing ahead of them.
Before her nerves took over, she looked both ways and hustled across the street. She stepped onto the curb and headed straight for the door, marching right up to the muscled bouncer, chin held high.
“Sorry, miss,” the deep baritone of the huge guy’s voice washed over her. “Line’s the other way.”
“Hi.” She nodded at him. Be brave.
“Hi,” he replied, his face a stone mask.
She raised her hands in front of her. “You probably think I’m here trying to meet that band.”
“Probably.” His expression didn’t change.
Ugh. He didn’t get it.
“I’m not. I assure you that I don’t even like their music. Seriously, it’s all overly loud nonsense and cussing.”
That cracked the mask. Bouncer dude squinted toward her.
“No, I’m looking for my boyfriend,” she continued. “He manages Dimefront. Brek? You probably know him. His sister’s having a baby, and he needs to go meet his nephew. So, I’m just going to sneak in, find him, tell him, and leave.” She nodded and moved to get past, reaching for the handle of the door.
“You’re Brek’s girlfriend?” He shifted to step in front of her.
“Yes.”
He looked her over top to bottom. “Not how this works. Nice story, though.”
“Hey, bitch? Get in line like the rest of us,” a teased-up groupie shouted from behind the velvet rope.
Velma ignored her and tried once more. “Please.”
“Please?” he asked. “So polite. Hang on. Hey, Jack?”
Another even hulkier guy ducked out from a stool near the doorway. Velma moved her head up, up, and up to meet his eyes.
“Seems this lady needs to find Brek because he needs to go meet his nephew. She said ‘please.’ You want to handle this for me?” Mr. Bouncer said.
Was she mistaken or did he flex his arm muscles? Whether he did or he didn’t, they rippled under his formfitting black Henley.
“His sister’s having the baby right now,” Velma added to drive her point home.
“That right?” Jack lifted his chin, his squint matching the other man’s.
Velma gripped her purse and adjusted the strap on her shoulder. “Yes.”
Thank goodness, they were finally getting somewhere. The burly dude could be reasonable. She tossed an I-told-you-so look to Jase.
“Follow me.” Jack jerked his chin toward the edge of the building.
“Thank you so much. You have no idea how important this is for him. His sister went into labor early. It was a whole thing. Everyone’s been so worried.” Velma dodged a wad of gum on the sidewalk as she scurried along after him. “Is this the way to the back entrance?”
Jack didn’t reply. They came up to a group of people and he stopped, pointing to a crack on the concrete. “Wait here.”
Gah, no.
“This is the end of the line.” Velma gestured to the group that wrapped around the building. There had to be over five hundred people standing in front of her.
“Sure your boyfriend won’t mind waiting to meet his nephew when he’s watching Dimefront play their set.” The way he said “boyfriend”…he didn’t believe her.
She deflated.
“Tell him I said congrats.” Jack moseyed back to the stool by the entrance. Velma glanced up at the never-ending mass of bodies. Her heart sank.
“Told you, you should have lifted up your shirt. If I had jugs, I’d do that all the time.” Jase stepped up beside her, his hands in his pockets. “I’d get the best parking spots, never have to wait in line…it’d be awesome.”
“Where were you?” she asked, her tone deep, her face hot.
“Right behind you.” Jase gestured to where the bouncers huddled.
“You didn’t even think to help?” She dug for her phone in the hope that Brek might have called.
Jase lifted a s
houlder. “Figured you had it covered. You were on a roll. That part where you said you didn’t even like Dimefront? Epic. Everybody likes them.”
“I don’t,” she muttered. After tonight’s outing, she liked them even less.
Velma glanced through the large windows of the club, searching for Brek. She stepped out of the line and mashed her palms to the cold glass, scanning the overflowing club. “Oh my gosh. There he is.”
He leaned against the side of a table, near the back of the room. A huge smile covered his face, and he tossed his head back because something was apparently hysterical in his bubble of life. Interesting, Velma wasn’t finding much funny out there on the chilly sidewalk.
Brek gestured wide with his hands, a beer dangling between his fingers. The woman next to him in a tight skirt, displaying an abundance of cleavage, burst into laughter. She gripped his biceps with her perfect red fingernails.
She squeezed.
Brek’s bicep.
Over his ever-present T-shirt. Velma didn’t need him to take it off to know the woman had squeezed right where the dragon’s tail blended into the tribal ink.
Velma actually felt her blood get hot and her eyes go wide.
He glanced to the tight-skirt lady. She went onto her tiptoes and whispered something into his ear.
Velma’s stomach turned, and her throat got thick. It didn’t take a degree in body language to know what the woman wanted.
“That’s not good,” Jase mumbled from behind Velma. “Danger, bud. Danger.”
Brek glanced to the man next to him and nodded, disentangling the woman’s fingertips gripping his arm. He said something to her, and she pouted her ridiculously overpainted lips. Then she tucked something into his hand.
Oh heck no. The hairs on the back of Velma’s neck prickled. That woman had no business passing her phone number to Brek.
“Toss the number,” Jase said under his breath. “C’mon. You’ve got an audience.”
Velma held her breath. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He was her Brek.
“Don’t worry. You’re way prettier than she is. She’s only pretty in the obvious way.” Jase crushed her to the glass as a group pushed past them. “Shit. They need some crowd control out here.”
Just the Tip of the Iceberg: Mile High Matched Books 1-3 Page 21