Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
NICO
Marco and a tall Black man I didn’t know were waiting for us in the foyer of the Count Basie Theater when we arrived. Both men wore black pants with black polo shirts with the company logo—a pair of wings stitched in white—on the upper left pec. I hung back a little since I wasn’t entirely sure Marco was happy I was there. Gabe, however, wasn’t having any of that.
“Come on. He doesn’t bite.”
“Are you sure about that?” I asked.
Gabe snickered. “You’d have to ask Liam. I personally haven’t been on the receiving end of a bite from Marco D’Angelo.”
I couldn’t help myself. I snorted out a laugh that caught Marco’s attention. He glared at both of us. “Are you here to work or what?”
Gabe rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, Chief. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”
I shot a startled look at Gabe. Marco noticed and grumbled. “Don’t mind him, Nico. He’s always been insubordinate.”
That was when I noticed Marco had a bone frog tattoo on his left bicep with the same dates and initials as Gabe’s. “You two served together?”
“Yep,” Gabe replied. “Marco was my senior chief for five years. After he left, I finished out my contract and followed him to New Jersey.”
The other man stepped forward and held out his hand. “Hi, Nico. I’m Dante. It would be another ten minutes before one of these two got around to introducing me.”
I took his proffered hand. “Nice to meet you, Dante.” Although Dante was as tall as Marco and Gabe, he wasn’t as muscular or as broad through the shoulders. He was leaner, with more of a swimmer’s build. I knew better than to underestimate him just because he wasn’t as big as the other two. I’d seen guys his size whip up on bigger guys all the time. “Did you serve with them too?”
He shook his head. “Nah. They were SEAL Team Six. I was SEAL Team Eight. We had different missions.”
I’d heard of the famous SEAL Team Six. I glanced back at Gabe. “Well damn.”
Dante grinned. “Don’t inflate their egos any more than they already are.”
Gabe flipped him off. “Jealousy is so unattractive.”
“All right, you miscreants,” Marco grumbled. “We have a job to do.”
“Is Pete joining us?” Gabe asked.
Marco shook his head. “No. I gave him the night off since we had Nico coming in. He was happy because he’s going to take Andrea to dinner and a movie.”
“It’s about time,” Gabe said. “Those two have been circling each other for over a year.”
Marco shrugged. “You know the score. He had to go slow.” He looked at me. “Are you familiar with this theater?”
I nodded. “I’ve been here a few times for concerts and comedians. I’ve never been backstage or anything.”
“Okay. We’ll start with a tour of the place and then show you where you’ll be stationed.” Marco bent down and pulled a black polo shirt out of a backpack at his feet. He handed it to me. “I think I got the right size.”
I held up the shirt. It was identical to the ones Gabe, Marco, and Dante wore. I’d come dressed in black jeans and a plain black T-shirt. This felt like I mattered. My throat felt thick when I answered, “Thanks. This is perfect.”
“Good,” Marco replied. He pulled a small box out of the same backpack. “This is your earpiece. We’ll all be connected throughout the evening. Anything you think needs attention or looks off, you let us know.” He gave me the box. “Gabe will show you how to use it.”
“Will do, Chief,” Gabe said.
Marco picked up his backpack and led us through the glass doors leading into the lobby. Some staff were setting up the concessions while others were doing some last-minute vacuuming. I stopped by the men’s room to change into the company polo and Marco stuck my T-shirt in his bag.
We walked into the theater, where the band was doing a sound check, and the roadies were setting up the rest of the equipment on stage. Marco pointed out the stairs on either side of the stage. “We’ll have a man stationed at each set of stairs. One will be backstage, where the performers go in and out. And one will be stationed outside the dressing room to keep the weirdos out.”
I looked at him in surprise. “Is that a thing? I mean, these guys are pretty good, but they’re not the actual Beatles.”
“You’d be surprised,” Gabe said. “People get obsessed with the strangest things. We once had a guy stalking a street mime in New York City. He genuinely believed the man was a reincarnation of the famous mime Marcel Marceau.”
I blinked. “That’s…just bizarre.”
Marco continued down toward the stage. “Yep. That’s why we always take this seriously. You never know what kind of crazy is out there.”
We walked up the stairs on the left side of the stage while the band was taking a break so Marco could introduce the team to the musicians and the backstage workers. I got the side-eye from a couple of the guys, but the lead singer smiled and said, “Nice tattoos.”
We continued into the wings backstage, where the musicians entered and exited, and then through a short hallway and down a set of stairs to a long, narrow hallway with several closed doors along each side. Marco opened the one with a cheesy gold star on it. “This is where the musicians change and hang out during the intermission. Someone will be outside this door at all times to make sure their belongings are secure and nobody tries to sneak in.”
We went back upstairs to check in with the house manager to let her know we were there and make sure she knew where we would be stationed. Once that was done, Marco pulled something that looked like a radio out of the backpack. “Running a comms check,” he said.
Gabe took my case from me and helped me fit the earbud in. “It’s open to all four of us,” Gabe said. “You just have to speak, and someone will hear you.”
Marco turned on the radio unit. “Comms check.”
I heard him in my earpiece. Gabe and Dante both said, “Copy that,” so I followed suit. Once we were sure the comms worked all over the building, Marco said, “The doors open in an hour. Let’s go up the street and grab some food at the Dublin House.”
We walked the two blocks to the large old Victorian mansion that housed the Irish pub and restaurant. We were seated right away and got our orders in pretty quickly. I’d thought I’d feel out of place with three former military guys, but they made sure to include me in their conversation. I never felt left out. The burgers were as good as I remembered and the walk back to the theater was full of teasing and laughter.
After checking with Marco, Gabe assigned me to watch the dressing room door for the duration of the concert. He reasoned it would have the least activity and zero crowds because no one was allowed down there except the performers and staff.
His brow was furrowed with concern. “Are you going to be okay down here? It’ll get pretty boring with no one to talk to.”
Warmth filled me. It was nice that he cared enough to check in with me. “I’ll be fine. I can always talk to you all on the comms. Besides, I’m used to spending a lot of time alone. It’s all good.”
He didn’t look entirely convinced, but Marco came on the comms and said, “Gabe. Get your ass backstage.”
“Yes, Chief,” Gabe mumbled. He squeezed my shoulder. “I’ll see you at intermission. Call me if you need anything.”
I nodded. “Got it.”
The band members greeted me when they left their dressing room to go on stage. Occasionally, a staff member would come downstairs to get something out of the utility closet across from the dressing room. I listened to the team banter over the comms and added my two cents every once in a while.
During intermission, the whole team came downstairs with snacks and a soda for me. We all chatted until it was time for the band to go back on stage. I found myself smiling more than I had in a very long time. It felt good to be part of a team.
It was about halfway through the band’s second set when I heard a door close from somewhere down the hall and heavy footsteps headed my way. Whoever it was, they were coming from the opposite direction the staff usually came from. I stepped closer to the dressing room door, my gut telling me this might be trouble.
A tall man with short blond hair came into view. He was big but not very muscular. He wore all black like he was part of the security team, which I knew he wasn’t. He stopped when he saw me standing there, like he hadn’t expected me to be there. I crossed my arms over my chest and waited. His brow furrowed. “Uh, I’m here to see Danny.”
Danny was the lead singer, an openly gay silver fox. “Mr. Gable is not seeing any fans in the dressing room. There’s a VIP meet-and-greet in the upstairs lobby after the show.”
He sneered and stepped closer to me. “I have a special invitation from Mr. Gable to meet him down here.”
“I doubt that,” I challenged. “He would have told the security team if he was expecting you.”
He moved into my personal space. “Listen, you little shit. I don’t have the money to spend on some fancy meet-and-greet where I’ll see him for a minute and then get ignored the rest of the night. I wrote him an email telling him I would meet him here.”
My heart was hammering. I clenched my fists and kept my arms at my sides to prevent myself from punching the guy in the face. “Please step back, sir. No one is allowed in the dressing room except the performers.”
He shoved me back against the door. “Fuck you, asshole. I have a right to be here. It’s a free country.”
Oh, hell no. He did not put his hands on me. I grabbed his T-shirt and drew my free hand back, ready to knock his ass out. “Let go of me!” he shouted. “I’ll have you arrested for assault!”
His words hit me like a bucket of ice water. I couldn’t hit him. If I hurt him, I’d go right back to prison. I couldn’t let that happen. My son needed me. I shoved him back and retook my place by the door.
“Keep your hands off me,” I growled.
“Do we need to call the police?” Gabe asked through the comms.
“Yeah,” I murmured.
“Roger that,” Gabe responded in my earpiece. “Copy that, Marco?”
“On it,” Marco responded.
A wave of relief washed over me. I had backup. My relief was short-lived when the asshole came up and pushed me again. “Get out of my way!”
I’d had just about enough of this guy, but I felt like my hands were tied. When he moved to push me again, I noticed the door to the utility closet was ajar. I stepped into his space, put my hands on his chest, and shoved him back. He stumbled but didn’t fall. He tried to resist my force, but even though he was bigger than me, I was much stronger.
I kept pushing, moving him step by step toward the utility closet until I had him close enough to the door that I could pull it all the way open. I gave him one more big shove to put him past the threshold and quickly slammed the door shut. I wouldn’t be able to keep him there for long because the door locked with a key I didn’t have, so all I could do was hold it closed by putting my back to it. Luckily my boots had rubber soles, or I’d have been screwed.
“A little help here,” I said in the comms.
“Almost there,” Gabe said.
“Let me out!” The guy I’d dubbed Asshole shouted.
A hand on my shoulder almost startled me into leaping away from the door. “Sorry,” Gabe said from beside me. After a pause, he asked, “Did you lock him in the closet?”
“I wish,” I growled. “I don’t have the key.” He snickered, and I heard a snort over the comms. “Yeah, you’re all hilarious,” I muttered.
Gabe stepped to the side a couple of feet. “On the count of three, step away from the door.”
“You want him to get out?” I whispered incredulously.
“Oh yeah,” he replied with a predatory grin.
“Okay.”
Gabe lifted his hand and made a silent count of three, two, one. I stepped aside, causing Asshole to fly through the door and fall flat on his face. Gabe was on him in seconds and had the guy’s arm jacked up and a knee in his back. No matter how much Asshole struggled, he couldn’t get free of Gabe’s hold.
“Let go!” he shouted. “Get your hands off me! I’ll sue!”
“You go right ahead and do that,” Gabe said. “Right after you get out of jail for assault. And we will be pressing charges.” With his free hand, he turned the man’s head and pointed at the ceiling. “See that? That’s a security camera. It’s all on video.”
All the fight went out of him after that. The police arrived soon after and arrested him. They took my and Gabe’s statements and got our information to call us if needed.
It was only after they left that I fell apart. My hands started shaking, and I had trouble catching my breath. I tried to hide it from Gabe, but he was too perceptive. “Nico? Are you okay?”
I tried to blow it off. “Yeah. I’m fine.” But my voice was strained and weak.
He came around to stand in front of me. “Hey. Talk to me. What’s going on?”
I swallowed hard. “I don’t know. I think I might be having a panic attack.”
He didn’t seem surprised or upset. He nodded and said, “Okay. I’m going to take hold of your hand and put it on my chest. Are you okay with that?”
“Yeah.”
He took my right hand and put it on the center of his broad chest. It was warm and solid. He covered my hand with his own and pointed to his hazel eyes. “Look up here. I want you to follow my breathing, okay?”
“Yeah,” I croaked.
We just stood there and breathed together. He spoke in a quiet, steady voice, asking me to notice things I could see, feel, hear, smell, and taste. After a few minutes, my heart stopped racing and I could breathe again. I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Thank you.”
He squeezed my hand once before letting it go. “Anytime.”
“Are we all good here?” Marco asked through the comms.
Holy shit. My boss had been listening to me have a panic attack. Gabe mouthed, “ It’s fine ,” before saying to Marco, “Yeah. All good.”
“All right. The show just ended, so the band will be down to change for the meet-and-greet. It’s all hands upstairs. Got it?”
“Got it,” we both said.
“Good work, Nico,” Marco added. “Especially for your first time out. But Gabe is going to give you some training in takedowns. Most places don’t have closets to shove people into.”
I heard Dante laugh and Gabe snorted. I couldn’t help but laugh myself. “Yes, Chief.”