Without waiting for an answer, he stepped aside to reveal a familiar face. Hazel eyes bugged out as she spotted me standing across the room, and it took everything in me not to return the double bird she had given me earlier. She was cute, in a girl-next-door kind of way, and I wondered if this was who Ruby wanted me to be nice to.
“I have someone here I’d like you to meet.”
What was the name I heard the woman on the phone call her?
I watched her closely, cataloging the way she shifted on her feet. Her left index finger was ripping at the thumbnail on the same hand. Her eyes darted around the room, acknowledging my bandmates as James introduced them, but they kept coming back to me.
“…And, of course, Calix you know.”
What now?
Her smile froze. What had been a politely shy expression turned into one of panic.
This was interesting.
Why had she lied about our acquaintance?
An appealing shade of red crept up her throat as the silence stretched out until James finally triggered to a disturbance in the force.
“Was I misinformed?” he asked, glancing back at…
“Good to see you again, Tater-tots. How’s your Ma?” I smirked as the red breached her jawline and colored her face all the way up to the hairline.
That’s right. I was listening.
“She’s fine,” the girl gritted out between her teeth, plastic smile still in place. I had a random thought that I might like to see her smile for real.
Weird.
“Where’s Tobias?” James asked, as though he’d only just noticed the absence of the thinner, more decorated version of me.
“Ah…”
“He ducked across town to pick up some new sticks he wanted to try out. He’s hoping they’ll bring a new sound to something we’ve been working on. He’ll be back soon.” The lie slid from Otis’s mouth seamlessly, as though he had already prepared his answer ahead of time. Hell, he probably had. Our resident peacemaker was better at putting out fires for us than Marisa had ever been.
James looked at us each in turn, pretending he had a fucking clue about any of us beyond what our sound could net him in the charts, then grunted.
“Whatever. When he gets back, let him know that you have a new manager. Now, play nice together. I’m not finding you another one.”
The door on my attraction to the interloper slammed shut as I realized she was next in line to play snitch for the record label. At least this time I’d have a trump card. James strode from the room, slamming the door in the girl’s face when she tried to follow with a cursory “We’ll sort the paperwork later” as placation. I rummaged in my pocket and came out with a silver case. Otis groaned as I pulled out a red card with I.O.U. spelled out in bold print on one side.
“Hey Tater-tots, you got a pen?” I asked, holding the card out to her.
Her gaze locked on mine as she reached blindly into her purse and retrieved what I asked for. I arched a brow at her, patientlyholding the card out until she broke our stare down and accepted the thing.
“Don’t call me that. My name is Tatum.”
“Dude, no. Veto. Why are you getting those things out?” Otis protested, setting aside his bass to come and stand at her side.
In my peripherals, I could see Harvey watching everything play out. His eyes swept over Tatum as though trying to devise a plan to get her alone and naked as quickly as humanly possible. Hell, she had tits and a heartbeat, so that was exactly what he was thinking, no doubt about it. No matter how many times we told him not to shit where we ate, he wouldn’t listen, and he invariably fucked things up for all of us when things went south.
Nothing we could do about the inevitability, but I could get my insurance secured first.
“Sign it,” I growled, lifting my chin at the card.
“No.”
Interesting.
