Chapter Three #2
Alex rolls her eyes, drinking back the last of her stout. “I’m getting more booze,” Alex murmurs, casually getting up and walking off to the bar. I watch her as she strolls off, her tiny frame wrapped in a business dress suit, doing nothing to match the way her hair and face portray her.
She’s a walking contradiction, and it’s only now, as she wriggles her ass from side to side purposefully, with a grin over her shoulder while staring at me, that I realize I was actually gawking at her ass. Blinking a few times as I shake my head, she laughs at me.
I take a deep breath, quickly looking away and back to Annabelle and Trish.
“Did you have something you wanted us to sign, Annabelle?” I ask, her name rolling off my tongue with ease.
She smiles, and I’m glad I’m sitting down because she really is drop-dead stunning.
“Ah, yeah, if you don’t mind. I have this book you could sign.
” I nod as she rifles through her handbag and pulls out what looks like an autograph book, and my stomach sinks even further.
The innocent vibe of Annabelle is diminishing, and the celebrity-chaser vibe is now becoming more and more evident.
Damn. Annabelle is a definite no-go zone.
She pulls out a pen from her expensive-looking handbag that looks especially suited for the book, and I’ve reached my limit. I exhale and take the pen from Annabelle, signing inside her book as she beams her dazzling fucking smile at me.
Alex comes back with another stout and three shots of something on a tray. As she sits back down, Alex grabs one of the shots and throws it down the hatch. I smirk at her because she doesn’t even wince. That woman is made of strong stuff.
“So, what’s it like having a twin? Are you guys physically connected and stuff?” Trish asks Nate, and he looks at me and chuckles.
“Um… not really, but we can sometimes sense each other’s emotional state. Shit like that.”
Trish moves in, smiling sultrily at Nate as she leans into his side. He tenses up completely, looking like a lost puppy, and she obviously lays the moves on him.
“That’s so cool,” she says, running her pointer finger up the middle of his chest. He tenses completely and opens his eyes wide.
Alex snorts through a stifled laugh and throws back another shot.
I raise my brow at her and take a deep breath.
It’s time for big brother Matt to step in and take control of the situation.
“Okay, it was really nice to meet you ladies, but we’re kinda in a work meeting. We’re reviewing Alex here on work standards, and we really need to get back to it. Sorry, but I’m sure you understand?”
They both straighten and look at me like they’re shocked I’d turn them away. Alex bites her lips, opens her eyes wide, and tries to hold back an all-out giggle while Nate looks at me, thanking me with his eyes.
“Oh, right, sorry. You’re with the band? What do you do?” Annabelle asks Alex.
Alex looks at me while tilting her head.
“I play the kazoo. It isn’t heard much in their songs, mainly in the background, but man, their songs would be fucking shit without me.
I make their music, really. I don’t even know why we’re having this review.
You guys know you need me. In fact, I want a pay rise,” she quips deadpan.
Nate smirks, and Annabelle and Trish both tense while looking uncomfortable. “Okay, we can see you need time to discuss business. Thank you for talking to us. It was great meeting you both,” Annabelle says while quickly standing along with Trish.
“Was great meeting you, too. Have a good night,” I say.
“Catch ya ’round. Thanks for being fans,” Nate remarks as they walk off toward the bar and toward some other unsuspecting men.
Alex throws back the last shot, and I chuckle. “The kazoo?” I ask, and she shrugs.
“And you’re a demanding co-worker, not to mention borderline alcoholic, little pixie. Wanna slow that down?” Nate questions.
She scoffs and picks up her second glass of Guinness. “I can handle my alcohol. Plus, I need it watching you two with your groupies.”
I slump in my chair.
That’s exactly what I don’t want.
It’s precisely the type of woman I’m trying to avoid.
And by having my list—groupies, sluts, super fans, and weirdos are the kinds of women I know I don’t want in my life anymore.
“Pfft, they were hardly groupies. That’s nothing, Alex,” Nate declares, and she smirks.
“So you were all fine and comfortable with Tittie Trishy then?” she fires back at him, and he grunts.
“Okay, so maybe I was slightly uncomfortable. But still, it’s kinda cool when people appreciate our music.”
“They appreciated the fact that you’re celebrities, Nate, nothing more,” Alex asserts, sipping at her beer.
Nate jolts back in surprise at Alex’s words. “That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?”
“Personally, I think she has a point,” I reply.
Nate curls his lip at me. “You do?”
Alex smiles and sits up a little taller.
“Yeah, I mean, she had an autograph book with a heap of signatures from all kinds of celebs in it. They’re not real Recoil fans. They’re celebrity chasers. Even I can see that.”
Nate sighs. “Yeah, that makes sense. Oh well, good riddance then.”
“In that case, cheers to twins and an awesome kazoo specialist,” Alex says, and she winks.
“Here, here,” I reply, grabbing my drink and clinking it with hers.
Nate picks up his glass and cheers us too. After we take a drink, the three of us go back to celebrating Nate’s great day at the gallery.
My ten out of ten isn’t here tonight, but I don’t need to find her right now. No, right now I’ll drink with my brother and Alex, who’s looking at me through her fucking amazing big doe eyes sideways with her frosty beer at her mouth.
What the hell is she thinking?