Chapter 17
VAN
It was two hours until showtime, and nerves were running high.
The power shut down several times. Usually, only for a minute or two, and then we were good to go again.
I got on the phone with building management to rail them out about the issue, but there was not much they could do at this point.
We’d roll the dice and see what happened.
Some of our equipment was missing or misplaced, which had Ace in a state of near meltdown.
And I was inundated with more press requests. Many of whom were about to arrive shortly.
The band was dressed up, made up, and scarfing down dinner before greeting the VIPs.
But Brodie’s “date” had yet to arrive.
Part of me wished the guy would be a no-show, even though I knew that was ridiculous. It would anger Greg, and the last thing I needed was that stress on top of everything else. I was having a hard enough time concentrating as it was.
My phone buzzed, and I mentally prepared myself to put out another fire.
Colm: I’m here.
Shit.
I’m heading out.
I made my way through the maze of narrow hallways at the back of the building until I reached the entrance. I nodded at our security folk at the door and glanced outside.
There was Colm, dressed up in a tattered black tuxedo, his face painted with an elaborate skull design, not that different from Brodie and the rest of the band.
The only thing I recognized from his headshots was his copper hair.
He had a bowler hat in one hand and a walking stick in the other, like a Halloween version of Fred Astaire.
I stepped outside and waved him over.
“Colm, come on in.”
“Hey, Ivan! Sorry, I’m late. I had to drive from Lockport, and the traffic was crazy.”
Now that he was standing near me, and despite the makeup, I noticed Colm’s perfect smile, big blue eyes, and chiseled profile.
He rushed over and shook my hand. “Is my costume okay?”
“You look great. And call me Van,” I replied as we headed back inside. “You hungry? The guys are having a bite.”
“I don’t know about food; I’m suddenly really nervous. I need some liquid courage for sure.”
“Just be yourself, and you’ll be fine. Trust me, the guys are down to earth. You’re gonna have a great time.”
“Good to hear.”
The rest of our walk was made in silence. Well, except for my phone constantly buzzing.
We’d set up the space behind the stage as the VIP room with catering and security. I motioned for Colm to enter.
Brodie and the rest of the guys were done eating and were now downing shots. The real party was finally getting started.
“Guys, this is Colm McDade. He’s Brodie’s date for the evening,” I announced.
I felt weird as fuck saying that.
Jeers and whistles rang out.
And I didn’t enjoy the appreciative looks sent Colm’s way.
Not that Brodie seemed to be giving the model the slow once over like Holls or Ronin, but still, a hot guy was a hot guy. Anyone would notice Colm, makeup, costume, or not.
“I’ll let you guys get acquainted. If you need me, I’ll be in the dressing room downstairs.”
Far away from Brodie and his “date.”
Maybe that was me being stupid because I knew this was all for show, but I was vulnerable now that I’d finally admitted how I was feeling about him. Exposed in a way I rarely was.
I needed my protective layer of work around me.
“You need to stay here, Van. Eat, have a drink with us,” Brodie insisted after he greeted Colm with a handshake.
I shook my head. “I’ve got guests and then reporters to corral.”
Brodie gently gripped my arm and pulled me in close to him.
Touching me right now was not a good idea. I needed all my brain cells focused on the job.
“Van—”
“Dee, do your thing and get to know Colm. Sell the date to the press.”
The rest of the guys were chatting up Colm and not paying us any attention, so I placed my hand over Brodie’s.
“I’ll see you on stage in two hours. If I don’t get stage fright,” I quipped.
“I can’t fucking wait,” Brodie replied and squeezed my fingers.
Someone in the room laughed, and I looked over. Holloway’s gaze locked on me and Brodie, his eyes comically wide.
Shit.
I pulled my hand back and headed for the exit.
Regan was standing just outside the door, tapping away on her phone.
“The VIPs are starting to arrive. Once they pass the security check, do you want me to hold them there, or can we let them in the room?”
“Send them on back.”
I waited in the hallway as guests started to file in. I greeted each one and had a quick look inside the room again to make sure the guys did the same. Soon, the room swelled to just over fifty people. It was small compared to our stadium tours when we had VIP groups of five hundred.
One of the last VIPs to arrive was the man I recognized from the party last night—the one who’d offered his card to Brodie.
I had a mind to kick him out of the building for no reason other than I was jealous as hell.
Instead, I shoved my caveman ideas away and put on my practiced smile. I greeted him as warmly as everyone else. Once he was inside, I took some satisfaction in watching the man’s face fall as Brodie introduced him to Colm.
Maybe this fake date thing wasn’t so bad after all.
I prepped my notes for the post-concert interviews, and then I wandered over to the stage to make sure everything was set as it should be.
Earlier mishaps were now under control.
I headed back to the VIP room and noticed the guys from Killmine had arrived.
They were dressed up as characters from the Wizard of Oz, with Nate as Dorothy, right down to the pigtails and the ruby slippers.
And judging by how they were joking and laughing with Brodie and the rest of the group, as well as the VIPs, they were having a great time.
Some bands hated the promo stuff, but it was part of the biz. If you wanted to go big, you had to do it.
Bandit was always on the lookout for the next hot thing, and Greg wanted my opinion on the group.
Based on what I saw of their previous performances, they had the makings of a band that could go far in this business.
Greg was going to offer them a contract and the opportunity to open for Wayward Lane’s next world tour.
It was a good deal and one I hoped they would take.
“Van!” Nate yelled out and worked his way through the crowd to greet me.
“Hey Nate, cool costume.”
He laughed. “Thanks, but I didn’t think through the shoes. These heels are fucking killing me already.”
“The price of beauty and fame. You ready?”
“Ready to puke my guts out. Never been so nervous to perform in my life,” he replied and took another gulp of his drink. “You got a moment to talk?”
“Yeah, of course.”
Nate motioned to the corner of the room. I glanced around, my eyes inevitably snagging on Brodie as he charmed the VIP crowd.
Forcing my gaze away, I followed Nate.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Greg Haddley reached out to me today. He’s offered us a contract.”
I smiled and reached out my hand. “I knew it was coming; congrats!”
Nate grinned in return and shook my hand.
“Merci, we’re over the fucking moon excited.
It doesn’t seem real yet. But I wanted to pick your brain about something.
Do we have to keep our manager in this case, or will Bandit assign a new one?
I haven’t seen the contract yet, but in confidence, we’ve had a lot of disagreements with our current rep.
Greg reached out to him twice, and he didn’t return the calls.
Thankfully, after that, Greg called me directly.
I nearly had a heart attack. I mean, this is our dream, right?
You don’t get offered a recording contract every day.
And you don’t ignore phone calls from the head of the biggest label. ”
“Did your manager give you an explanation?”
“Nope. He’s not replying to my texts. There’s another band he represents that I feel he’s favoring.
When the offer came in for tonight’s show, he didn’t want us to do it.
Said it would suit someone else. That’s a major red flag.
Who wouldn’t want to open for Wayward Lane?
Especially in our hometown. I had to push back and tell him to take it. ”
“I know it’s not easy to change managers, but sometimes it’s for the best. It sounds like this person doesn’t have your best interests in mind. Bandit has a roster, and they can assign one to you. Or I can refer you to a few independents who are reliable.”
Nate bit his lip. “That’s good to know. I just wanted to get your insight on it. You’ve been with Wayward since the beginning, and everyone in the band has nothing but mad respect for you. We want a rep who believes in us and will be our champion.”
“We’ll find you someone who does just that.”
“Awesome.”
I glanced at my phone and noticed the time.
“You’re on in twenty.”
“Thanks, Van.”
“Anytime. You guys have something special. I knew it, and so did Greg. You’re gonna do great.”
Nate nodded and downed the rest of his drink in one go.
“Am I interrupting?”
I turned to find Brodie behind me, his eyes full of fire.
“Not at all.”
“I wanted Van’s business input. Thanks again.”
Nate nodded and headed back over to his bandmates.
“You two seem awfully chummy,” Brodie muttered.
“It’s purely professional.”
“It better be. I’m not above staking my claim on you here and now, and fuck the record label, the press, and my so-called date.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “You can’t seriously be jealous.”
“Oh, no?”
“How’s Colm?” I asked as I raised one eyebrow.
Brodie bit his lip. “He seems like a great guy. Ronin’s about ready to make his move.”
I looked over, and sure enough, the bass player was standing extra close to the model.
Great.
“Tell Ronin to back off until the party is over tonight. Then he can do whatever the fuck he wants. As long as he’s discreet.”
“Don’t worry about it. Everyone’ll just assume we’re having a threesome. We’re rock stars, after all.”
I all but dragged Brodie to the farthest corner of the room.
“Have you… wait, that’s none of my business.”
What the hell was going on with me? I’d never been the possessive type before, and I was about to make an ass of myself.
I stepped around Brodie, but he held firm.
“Have I what? Slept with Ronin? Or anyone in the band? No. We made a promise to each other years ago, and we’ve stuck to it.”
The relief I felt was immediate.
“That’s not to say we haven’t enjoyed watching each other from time to time.”
That statement had me curious and curiously aroused.
“I’m gonna need a drink,” I bit out, and Brodie finally let go.
His laughter followed me out of the room.