“You can keep fighting with me, but you’re not gonna win. I’m your publicist. You have to do what I say on this, remember?”
“I never agreed to that.”
I kind of did. But either way, I won.
Or did I?
After debating back and forth a few more times, we got a drink… at the bar near where Dylan was hanging out.
I knew what Angeline was up to.
Sure enough, soon as I’d bought her a drink, she wormed her way over to Dylan through the crowd and touched his arm. The path she’d cleared led straight to me and when he turned, he saw her and smiled; then he saw me over her shoulder and the smile cooled a fraction.
I inwardly rolled my eyes and went over. Angeline smiled at me. Fake or not, the girl was too cute to be pissed at for very long. Another thing that was annoying about her.
Amber was with Dylan, of course. I hadn’t seen her through the crowd. But at least she was turned away, talking to someone else.
“Dylan,” Angeline said gravely as I joined them, “this is my friend, Kung Fu Panda.”
“Hey,” I said, and we shook hands.
“Hey,” Dylan greeted me with a half-smirk. “Kung Fu…?”
“It’s a nickname. You know… little sisters.” I knew he had a few.
“Right,” Dylan said. “Thanks for coming.” No attitude. He was actually… friendly. He always had been, more for less, when I’d run into him.
Other than that one time when his fist met my face.
Although… considering how fast I’d almost punched a guy for touching Angeline, when she wasn’t even my girlfriend… maybe I did deserve it? From Dylan’s point of view, in that moment, I had my hands on his woman. Even if I was trying to help her out of the fray.
And anyway, that shit was years ago now.
“You guys did a great job,” I told him. “This place was due for a reno.”
“Thanks, man. It was all Summer, really. Woman’s a force of nature. Elle and I just hang on for the ride.”
“Right.” I smiled a bit, and it wasn’t even fake. Unfortunately, Angeline was right about Dylan. He had the kind of likable-guy reputation, well earned, that an asshole like myself could only dream of.
No one would ever guess thathepunchedmein the face, once upon a time, and not the other way around.
“It’s gonna be the hottest club in town, by miles,” Angeline gushed. She looked at Dylan like a cartoon puppy who’d just eaten a bag of magic mushrooms. If dopamine was airborne, we’d all be high right now.
Strangely, I couldn’t remember ever being so viscerally jealous of a guy over a woman. Ever.
I tried to ignore it, but the irritated fist was clenching in my gut again, a hot, nauseating ball of something like fury.
And I wasn’t even dating this woman. Or fucking her.
“I’m coming here,” she gushed on, “like, every weekend.”
Dylan smiled at her, then shot a look at me. Like,With who?
“Me, too,” I said casually. “When I’m not on tour.”
“How’s that going?” he asked. “You’re going into the studio on the new album soon, huh?” The way he asked, kind of cautiously, I knew he’d heard all the gossip.
But I had to be prepared for this.
