Bound to Please (29 page)

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Authors: Lilli Feisty

BOOK: Bound to Please
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The room was full of potential high-end clients, and they were all looking at her, waiting for her to produce the Riders out of her ass.


They’re not coming
,” she wanted to say. “
And yeah, it’s all my fault. It’s all my fault because I trusted a fucking musician!

Instead Ruby smiled at the guests as James led her to a leather sofa. Sitting next to her, he said, “I know it’s not your fault the band didn’t show up.”

“I take full responsibility for this, James. Consider this party compliments of Umbrella Events.” She nearly cringed when she said the words; the catering bill was more than she’d earned all month. But she felt she owed it to James. After all, he’d paid for a preparty with the Riders, and she hadn’t produced them.

He shook his head. “No way I’m letting you foot the bill. Besides, I’m still enjoying myself. Very much.” He smiled, and even if it didn’t melt her insides the way Mark’s smile did, it was a nice smile nonetheless.

“Well, I’m just sorry about this, but rest assured. They’ll be at the party tonight.” Even if she had to track them down and drag their asses there herself.

“I’m not worried about it, gorgeous. I’m just enjoying sitting next to the most beautiful girl in the room.” With a grin that was getting cuter by the second, he plucked two glasses from a passing server and handed her some champagne. “Now, don’t worry. Everyone here will get their chance to meet the Riders later, right?”

Ruby nodded and tried to ignore the feeling of dread that was creeping through her body.

Later, at the venue, Ruby managed to avoid Mark. She was too angry to speak with him, or any of the band, so she went about her job, letting Meg deal with any stage issues that arose.

Now, Ruby watched from the upper balcony as the Riders finished their fourth song of the night. They’d arrived on time, and if the band held any resentment over playing the private party, they didn’t show it. They performed with all the enthusiasm and passion she’d seen in them that first night, and the audience’s excitement seemed to only rev them up.

From her second-floor perch, Ruby watched. She wasn’t hiding, not exactly. But she didn’t think she could handle talking to Mark. He was leaving in just a few hours, and she couldn’t believe she’d been about to take him up on his offer of trying something long-distance. On one level she was glad he’d blown her off; it had only helped her dodge another bullet.

Now, the band was on a break and dessert was being served. Every seat was occupied, every wineglass was full. The excited cacophony of guests talking filled the space. Everyone was waiting eagerly for the Riders to get back onstage, and the anticipation was nearly palpable.

“You did a wonderful job.”

She jerked her head to find James Cleaver standing beside her. She hadn’t heard him approach.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m pleased with this part of the night, at least.” The room looked like a modern spring wonderland. She’d gone through a case of spray paint, but it was worth it. Now, golden branches and white lights twinkled everywhere, from the ceiling and walls and floor. Little flowers were scattered throughout the entire space, and it was like walking through a storm of petals. The vintage backdrop of the theater gave a perfect, almost medieval charm to the whole thing. Everything was modern yet ethereal. Exactly what she’d had in mind from the start.

“Beautiful.”

But when she turned to James, he was looking at her. “Are you seeing him?”

“Who? Mark?”

He nodded.

“No.”
Not anymore.
Just then Mark, Yvette, and Jake walked back onto the stage, and she soon heard the disharmonious notes of them checking their instruments.

James stepped closer and took her hand. Why didn’t he make her pulse jump as Mark did whenever he got this close? “Would you like to dance with me, Ruby?”

Such a gentleman. How could she say no?

Why did she want to? She wasn’t going to let Mark ruin her night. In fact, let him see her having fun. Maybe the cocky bastard would see that he wasn’t the center of the universe.

“Let’s go,” she said.

He took her hand and led her around the upper terrace, to the back of the theater where a large staircase wound down to the main floor.

As they walked to the front of the stage, the sound of one of Mark’s unique compositions began to fill the room. Something in her blood immediately started to hum; it was funny how her body responded to his music. This tune sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

The crowd parted, and Ruby had to smile. If she wasn’t so upset, she would have felt like a princess. She’d even dressed the part. She was wearing an emerald organza dress. It draped over one shoulder, falling to the floor in petals and petals of whispery fabric. It seemed to flow as she walked, and it was so beautiful, just wearing the dress made her feel elegant and sexy.

The gold twigs and colorful flowers seemed to float all around, and as she walked toward the stage she saw Mark was looking right at her. Her heart started to pound.

When they reached the dance floor they were the only couple on it. This was a slower song, and Mark’s eyes burned into her as James took her in his arms and began to sway.

“I want to see you again, Ruby.”

“Yes, of course,” she murmured, wishing Mark would stop staring at her. She was getting hot everywhere, and with a burst of frustration she realized it had nothing to do with the man who held her in his arms.

“But I’m not sure what’s going on with you and Mark St. Crow.”

“He means nothing to me. Absolutely nothing.” But her voice sounded weak, even to her.

James pulled back, and his eyes were full of sympathy as he said, “Are you sure?”

She glanced up to see Mark lean into a microphone. He wore a white T-shirt that showed off the strong body she’d gotten to know so well. The body she’d had between her thighs, just last night.

“Yes, I’m sure,” she whispered. But her heart was pounding in her ears, and just meeting Mark’s gaze caused her legs to tremble.

Then he started to sing.

She doesn’t know what she does to me
I fell the second she teased me
Tie me in jasmine
Eyes that glitter like her ocean
Tying you in knots
You tie me in knots
But I don’t wanna be free
If freedom means you’ll ever say good-bye
Good-bye is not forever
Just a fleck of time

Her heart felt like it had jumped into her throat when he hit the chorus, and instantly she recognized the song—it was the one he’d been composing that night at her house. Her gaze was locked on his as she listened.

All I’m asking for is time
A hundred years or more would suit me fine
Don’t leave me in this darkness loving blind
I might leave, but I’ll always come back, girl
Sweetheart, doll, baby
Fuck ’em
Always come back to my Ruby Mine
Good-bye is not forever
Just a fleck of time

Everyone was looking at her. James was looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face. “He completely flaked off your preparty, Ruby. I like you too much not to warn you to be careful with that one.”

She turned away from him. The crowd blurred as she ran down the center aisle and pushed through the huge double doors. Images slammed into her head—of Mark, of all the things they’d done. A few weeks ago she’d known exactly what she wanted. Now confusion made her head spin, made her heart race as she burst outside and onto the sidewalk.

“Spare a quarter?”

A man sat on the cement, an upside-down hat next to him along with a small piece of cardboard, upon which was written in a messy scrawl,
Change Appreciated
.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t have my purse.”

“Then how about a pretty smile.” He gave her a gap-toothed grin.

It was cold and she started to shiver. “Sorry,” she said, walking away.

She heard the door open, slam shut, and then, “Ruby.”

She stopped but didn’t turn around. “Just leave me alone, Mark.”

He was in front of her in an instant, standing close. Too close. She could smell him. His unique scent, his sweat. Leather.

When he grabbed her, his hand was warm and damp on her bare shoulder. “I’m leaving tomorrow, Ruby. Talk to me.”

“I know you’re leaving, trust me. That’s the one thing I do know.”

“What’s wrong? Why were you dancing with that dickwad in front of me?”

She jerked back. “You made a fool of me tonight.”

He truly looked confused. “You mean the song?”

“No! You didn’t show for the preparty.” Humiliatingly, she felt her eyes start to burn. “This is my career you’re fucking with.”

She saw his eyes flash with anger. At himself. “Oh, fuck.” He ran a hand over his face. “Oh, baby—I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t help the twenty people who showed up tonight hoping to meet the Riders because
I
promised them it would happen!”

He reached for her, but she jerked away. “Just tell me why, Mark. What was so important you left me like that and couldn’t even bother to call?”

A few yards away, some guests were standing around, banned outside to smoke. Glancing at them, Mark said in a low voice, “Listen. I can explain. Let me take you somewhere private.”

“You mean you want to ditch the rest of your set? Typical!”

“Fine. Just promise me we’ll talk later so I can explain.
Promise me.

“When?” She slapped a tear from the corner of her eye. “You mean tomorrow? Oh, wait! You’ll be gone.”

“It doesn’t have to be like this. Just come inside and talk to me. We can work it out if you’ll just let me explain.” He took a step toward her. “Trust me.”

She jerked her chin up and ignored the plea she saw in his eyes. “I do trust you. With you, there’s something I can always trust you to do.”

His eyes went dark. “What’s that?”

“I can
always
trust you to leave.”

His jaw clenched, and she saw all the muscles in his arms bunch. For a second, she thought he might punch the brick wall behind them. He turned away, sucked in a breath, and then turned back to her. “Fine. I guess I’ll just say good-b—”

“Chihuahua!”

He looked baffled. “What?”

“Chihuahua. Isn’t that what I’m supposed to say when I can’t take it anymore?”

“Yeah, but this isn’t what I meant. That was for when you were in pain.”

“I
am
in pain!” She lifted her chin, wiped away some more damn tears. “At the very beginning, you wanted to know my limits. I told you no good-byes. You’re pushing me beyond my limits. So, Chihuahua.”

“Your limits are fucked up.”

“They may be, but they’re
my
limits. R-remember?” She was really shaking now; her teeth had started to chatter.

His brown eyes turned black as he stared at her. She could see the struggle going on in his mind, but, in the end, he finally took a step back. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

He looked ready to say more but finally just shook his head and walked away. She didn’t turn around until she heard the door to the theater slam shut.

Beside the door, the homeless man shook his head. “Don’t be scared.”

“What are you t-talking about?”

“You, my dear. You’re scared of love.”

“That is not t-true.” And why was she arguing with a delusional old man? But she didn’t want to go back inside the theater, not yet. She might run into Mark, and, if she did, she knew she’d break down and lose it totally. She refused to allow that to happen at one of her events.

“Anyway, he’s bad news,” she muttered.

“The good ones always are,” the man said. “I mean, Janis Joplin was a real wildcat in the sack, but it was worth every bruise and scratch.”

“Janis Joplin died of a drug overdose.”

“Exactly,” he said and gave a watery cough. “Imagine if I’d turned her down. I’d always have wondered what it would have been like.” His expression turned wistful.

“That makes no sense.” Did it? Her head was pounding. She put a finger to her temple and rubbed.

“Girl, you gotta take a chance! You gotta grab ’em by the horns!” He made a fist and swung his arm to illustrate his point. “And you need balls to get the horns, right? Everyone knows that!” His watery eyes gazed up at her, excited and expectant. “You got balls, don’t you, girl?”

“I have something better. A brain.” She unclasped the necklace around her neck and dropped it into the man’s hat, where it disappeared into a pile of mismatched change. “Thanks for the advice.”

Chapter
Twenty-Six

T
he next week Ruby was too busy to notice Mark’s absence.

Almost.

An article had appeared in the Sunday Society section about James Cleaver’s Spring Fling, and ever since, she’d been slammed with people wanting to hire Umbrella Events for weddings, grand openings, galas, and myriad other parties. If the mishap at the preparty was affecting her business, it wasn’t noticed.

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