‘Vil’s phone buzzes, and he takes it out. Someone’s sent a video of the baby. He plays it with the sound muted. Irina just seems to be waving and throwing toys across the floor. The corners of Vil’s mouth quirk into a smile for about ten seconds before his face returns to its resting state. He pockets his phone.
“Who’s with her?”
“A bodyguard and Trick’s sister.”
“The younger one?”
“Baby G,” Anvil says with a shrug of his brows.
So Trick’s let ‘Vil in on the nickname. ‘Vil had already heard the details of the standoff, but since Trick’s sister hadn’t fired the weapon that day, ‘Vil wouldn’t have known about her proficiency until Trick let him in on it. Guess the married guys are talking outside work these days.
“Good babysitter,” ‘Vil adds. “Irina likes her.”
“Keeping it in the C Crue family,” I say with a smile.
I glance around at the throngs of people and then spot Rachel emerge from an area that leads backstage. Dressed in a long black lace dress and high heels, she hurries over to greet us. She hugs Trick and Laurelyn who she encounters first. Then she gets to Anvil and me and gives me a hug as well. My gaze slides Anvil’s way. Apparently he’s relaxed his possessiveness tonight because he doesn’t take a step toward us or pull her his way.
“Sold out on opening night,” I say. “Congratulations.”
Rachel beams up at me. “That’s thanks in part to C Crue money that paid for extra PR. Thank you, C.”
I nod. It wasn’t C Crue money. It was mine. I’d arranged to fund the hiring of an expensive PR company before Zoe left, but I paid the bill after. She sent me a handwritten thank you card, which was nice. It would’ve been nicer if she’d been grateful in person.
Trick was surprised when I said I was coming tonight. The rest of the crue came in today on a private flight from Boston, but I was already in town. I’m guessing that in my place, Trick would’ve blown off the show. When he and Laurelyn broke up years ago, he avoided seeing her or even mentioning her name. That’s a smart play when the loss is raw and fresh. Tough to resist the dark urges. There were nights when I came close to having Zoe brought to me. But it’s been a few weeks now. I won’t lose control.
Rachel moves closer to Anvil as she looks around the theater. She holds out her small hands toward him, and his giant mitts swallow them up.
“I have to go warm up,” she whispers. “I wanted to see you first.”
He kisses one of her hands, then lets go. “I won’t say good luck, because you don’t need it.”
“You’re not supposed to say good luck anyway. You’re supposed to say break a leg.”
“Hmm.”
She smiles. “Not going to say that?”
“No.”
That makes Rachel chuckle and seems to relax her.
“Have you seen any of the rehearsals?” I ask Anvil.
“No, but I’ve heard the music.”
‘Vil and I have each experienced a piece of what’s to come. I watched Zoe practice as she created the show’s choreography.I’m curious about how it’ll look with all the other performers on stage. The other performers… I frown. As much as I love watching Z dance, that’s not my only reason for being here tonight. I’ve got it in my head that by now she’s fucking some other guy, and I want to know if that’s changed things between us.
I glance at Anvil. He’s been zero use to me in the information department where Zoe’s concerned. He either doesn’t know what she’s doing, or he doesn’t care to pass it on. Before Trick got married, he’d have been all over this thing. I wouldn’t have needed to ask a question. Now his own life is keeping him busy.
“The director invited me to the after party,” I say. That’s one advantage of bankrolling a specialized public relations firm. It makes me a patron of the production and confers VIP status. The director and the production’s money manager invited me to rehearsals and a couple other functions. Not interested. I want an invitation directly from Zoe. I’m making an exception tonight because a party’s a different animal. Z won’t be working. She’ll be celebrating, and we’re good at doing that together.
Heads turn toward me.
Rachel’s brows draw together. “The party will be mostly cast, C.”
“Hmm.” I say. I study her face, which tells me she’s concerned. That means the odds are good that Zoe’s with a guy in the show. Anyone but the director’s safe. The director seems all right, but if he invited me to a party to see my ex who he’s fucking, that’s a dick move and I won’t let it slide. Anyone else though, gets a pass. Unless he’s a dick. I almost smirk at myself. I’m looking for an excuse. No violence, I remind myself. That would be counterproductive.
“Okay, I really need to go,” Rachel tells Anvil.
