“Never mind.” She released his hand, smoothing her skirt. “Wish me luck?”
“You’re the most talented actress I’ve ever met,” he whispered, meaning the words.
The woman could say the name Sergio a thousand different ways, and each way was better than the next.
She had this audition in the bag.
“There are legit big names trying for this role.” She shook her head. “At least I got an audition, and there’s always that potential for luck.”
“You don’t need luck,” he said. “You’re going to go in there, get up on that stage, and break both your legs.”
That bought him a grin. “You’re pretty awesome, Jeremy Dillion.”
“You are, too,” he said as her door opened. “Go get ’em, Noodle Cup.”
“You’re so weird.” She winked, grinned, and went off to chase her dreams.
Unfortunately, that left him alone in the back of an SUV headed to a mansion where he’d live by himself, to a life he didn’t realize was so empty until Irina slid out of the car and into her own world.
Alone didn’t have to suck, though. There were lots of things he could do by himself.
For example, he could call his buddies and make them come hang out with him.
That’s what he’d do.
He dropped a call to Linx first, because Linx was the one most likely to not be asleep at one in the afternoon.
This was mostly because he didn’t have a newborn keeping him up at odd hours, like Bax, and his wife worked normal hours during the day, so he putzed around until she came back in the late afternoon.
“S’up,” Linx said. “You need bailed out of jail?”
Knox snort-laughed. One time. That happened one time. “Nah, I’m back in Denver.”
He gave the rundown of Irina’s audition, his mom’s appearance in Los Angeles, and their quick trip home.
Linx drew an audible breath at the mention of Knox’s mom, because he knew how she pushed all of Knox’s buttons.
The thing Knox did not mention was that he’d seen a random cervix ten thousand feet in the air, or that he’d had the chance to try the slippery baby hold they talked about in his EMT course. Good news about that, it totally worked.
“I’m feeling the need to hit up Brek’s Bar,” Linx announced. “Meet there?”
“I was gonna go home first,” Knox said.
“Why, because you’re like ninety-five and you need to check the mail?” Linx snorted at his own joke even though it wasn’t that funny.
“I don’t need to check my mail. I just wanted to check the progress and ensure the foreman is getting shit done.”
“Do it after a beer?”
Fine. Knox grinned. “See you at Brek’s.”
“I’ll track Bax’s ass down and bring him, too,” Linx added. “It’ll be the three of us tying one on, just like the old days.”
“Except you’ve got a wife to get to home to by five, and Bax has a wife and a kid to get home to, and I’ve got to check that the paint dried.”
“True story,” Linx conceded. “Which means we have about three and a half hours to make it count.”
See? Being alone didn’t totally suck. If he wasn’t alone he couldn’t call his bandmates and plan afternoon shenanigans.
