Captivated (11 page)

To her surprise, Zander
handed it over.
“Better text him or he’ll keep calling.”

“I will.” She sent a text
informing him the band was safe and she’d talk to him in the morning. Dom’s
hand shifted from the back of the chair to her shoulder, gently kneading.
Inhaling his scent, she nestled into his embrace. Then he smiled at her and her
stress melted away.

Frowning, Zander eyed
their position.
“Just how friendly are you two, anyway?”

“Friendly enough.” Dom’s
voice held an edge of challenge.

Her brother leaned
forward, voice low.
“You seem like you care about my sister,
and so far, I like you. But if you do anything to hurt her…”

“Understood.” The hand on
her arm rubbed in a soft caress.

“Zander…” The word a
warning. He cared and was overcompensating. But she wasn’t ready to tell Dom
about what had happened with Oliver.

Jayne walked into the
waiting room. Irisa welcomed the shift in attention. A small square bandage
covered her friend
’s left temple, and she carried a sheet of
paper. “I’m cleared to go home.”

“What did they say?”
Zander craned his neck to read the sheet. “Concussion aftercare?”

“Just as a precaution.
The doctor told me to take it easy for the next twenty-four hours. It’s good we
don’t have a show tomorrow night.”

His fingers gripped the
paper.
“This
also says someone’s supposed to wake you regularly throughout the night.”

Irisa glanced at Dom. As
much as she wanted to be with him, her friend needed someone looking after her.
“Jayne
can stay with me tonight.”

Relief filled her Jayne
’s
pale features. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“It’s the least I can
do.” She doubted she’d be able to sleep anyway. Not with the dread of dealing
with damage control hanging over her head.

After
a long night spent at the ER, Dom woke exhausted, out of sorts, and reaching
for Irisa. The dream version of her faded away, replaced by sunlight streaming
in the window at the wrong angle. A glance at the alarm clock confirmed he
’d
forgotten to set it. Late. He didn’t like to waver from normal routine on game
days. Rushing through his shower, breakfast, and feeding and walking Champ
helped make up some time.

When he arrived at the
stadium, Tim, the facility
’s longtime security guard, stopped
him in the hall. “Mr. Sanchez wants to see you.”

A summons to the GM
’s
office usually wasn’t a good thing. He could only guess it had to do with what
happened at the bar. “Did Ramon say why?”

“No one tells me
anything.”

“Right. Which is why you
know everything that goes on around here.”

Tim leaned in closer.
“Dusty’s
in there with him. That’s all I know.”

A meeting with the
manager
and
the GM. Really not good.
“Thanks, man.” He
strolled through the halls and nodded at the GM’s secretary. She waved him in.

Both men looked up when
he entered the office. Ramon spoke first.
“We need to talk, Dom.”

Dom closed the door
behind him.
“What’s going on?”

“Pictures surface of you
in a bar fight and you ask us what’s going on?” He angled his computer screen
toward Dom. A photo of him and Big Lou, face to face in the parking lot in what
looked like a stare-down before a showdown.

“Believe it or not, that
guy is a fan. We didn’t fight. It wasn’t as bad as it looks.”

“Well, it looks pretty
bad,” Ramon continued. “You’re a veteran. You’re supposed to set an example.”

“I didn’t know anything
was going to go down.”

“You shouldn’t be putting
yourself in these types of situations. Confrontations at bars…” Dusty’s voice
grated on Dom’s nerves. The old man only saw things as black and white—
his
version of black and white.

Dom
’s
muscles burned and his hands locked into fists. Not for the first time, he
wished for his old manager, for someone who understood the players, and
listened to them. Forget Dusty. He turned to address his appeal to Ramon and
spoke through gritted teeth. “You’ve known me for five years. I’d think that
would count for something.”

“Regardless, this conduct
is detrimental to the team. You’re suspended for the weekend series, starting
with tonight’s game against Milwaukee. You’re also fined twenty grand. We’re
only a month removed from your last on-field altercation. You better lay low
and keep a clean profile for the rest of the season.”

What the hell?
“Look
at every picture. I’m not fighting in any of them. I told you the truth about
that biker. Pull up any other photo or video and I’ll explain what was going
on.”

“There are enough photos
that show you could have left before things became heated. You have a
responsibility to this team, whether you’re in uniform or out of it.”

“You should rethink the
company you keep, boy.” His manager’s disapproving tone accompanied a wagging
finger.

“The company I keep isn’t
responsible for what happened,” He snarled. Dusty’s suggestion ticked him off.
Then again, Irisa
had
charged into the fray,
which prompted him to charge in after her. But her brand of chaos was way
different to the tornado his ex had caused. Irisa wasn
’t
Natalie. Irisa wasn’t vengeful, spiteful, or self-serving. She was sweet, and
sexy, and passionate. Even so, maybe getting involved with someone while he
played wasn’t smart. Could he really tell her he needed to slow things down?

Dusty stood and lumbered
toward the door.
“You already have two strikes against you.
You know what happens when you reach three.”

You
’re
out.

Oliver
’s
call came while Irisa and Jayne ate lunch. Irisa set aside her sandwich and
answered the phone, and then hit the speaker button. “Yes.”

“Irisa, it seems your
band had some trouble last night.” Oliver’s voice filled the room.

Some trouble
…that
was one way to put it. “Tempers flared a bit, but order was quickly restored.”

“Not quickly enough to
avoid being caught on camera.”

For as much fighting as
they did among themselves, she was proud of the guys for banding together
around Luke.
“The videos make it look worse than it was.”

“Were any of the guys
hurt?” He wasn’t asking because he cared. He was worried about the company’s
investment.

“Nothing serious.”

“You need to keep control
of your band. We don’t want the tour to be marred by poor decisions.”

Rolling her eyes at Jayne,
she shook her head.
“You don’t have to tell me how to do my
job.”

Jayne opened her laptop,
then turned the screen toward Irisa. The latest sales figures for the new
album.

Mouthing
thank you
,
Irisa pulled the computer closer.
“Album sales are going well.”

“Are they? Well, the last
few venues we added haven’t sold out yet, and that’s disappointing. I hope the
bad press isn’t hurting us.”

“Right. I’m sure they’ll
sell out.” She ended the call and turned to Jayne. “How the hell did I ever
think he was a good idea?”

“It’s not your fault. He
didn’t show anyone his true self until he got what he wanted.” Jayne pulled the
laptop back. “Let’s not talk about him, it’ll ruin our digestion. How’s your
wrist feeling?”

“A little achy, but I’ll
live.” She’d take the slight sprain and wearing a bandage wrap over any amount
of time stuck in a cast with a break.

A little while later,
Irisa dropped Jayne off at her house with strict instructions not to do
anything except read books, watch TV, and rest. They
’d
made it through the night without any issues, and she wanted to keep it that
way.

She met the rest of the
band at Zander
’s house. They sprawled in different areas of the room
they used for practice, but no one held any instruments. “How’s everyone
feeling today?”

Zander shrugged.
“Fine.”

Brendan touched his ribs.
“Got
some bruises from last night, but nothing that’ll keep me from drumming.”

“I’m still icing, but
should be fine by tomorrow night.” Landry’s knuckles were raw and swollen.

Luke removed the ice pack
he
’d
held to his eye. The bruising around the eye area looked awful. “Now that we’ve
all determined everyone’s fine, what’s the word from Excite? Did you have to
assure them that their investment was fine?”

“Oliver did ask about
your condition, and yes, they’d like you guys to refrain from making poor
decisions.”

Her brother cracked a
smile.
“Really?
That’s what Oliver said?”

“I can’t believe Excite
keeps him around.” Replacing the pack, Luke laid his head on the back of the
couch.

How she wished Excite
wouldn
’t
keep Oliver around. Every time she had to deal with him was a reminder of how
naive she’d been. “Take the day off, no practice, just rest. Keeping icing
things. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You’re heading out? I’ll
walk you.” Her brother followed her from the room. When they reached his
kitchen, he stopped her. “How’s Jayne?”

“She’s okay. Nothing odd.
She’s back at her place now. I told her to rest all day, and to skip tomorrow’s
show if she needs to.”

“I couldn’t get to her in
time.” He shook his head slowly. A muscle in his jaw jumped.

“What are you talking
about?”

“Last night, at the bar.
The fight started and some guy slammed into her. I saw her going headfirst into
the bar and it was like everything was suddenly in slow motion. If I’d been
five seconds faster, it wouldn’t have happened.”

His words reminded her of
Dom
’s.
“Is something going on between you two?”

“Something.” He shrugged
and tugged his hand through his hair. “I don’t know what to call it. She’s
different from the other women I’ve dated.”

A burgeoning romance
between her brother and her best friend could either be a dream come true or a
nightmare if things didn
’t work out. She didn’t need something new
to worry about. “Just be careful.”

“Don’t say anything to
her, okay? It’s too new. No one knows. I don’t want to upset her. Or scare her
off.” He looked far more concerned about Jayne than he’d seemed about anything
in a long time.

“I promise.” She patted
his shoulder. Her phone pinged. If it was Oliver again…

But the text was from
Dom.

The team gave me the
night off. Are you free?

Free to see him? Free to
pick up where they
’d left off? Free to take the next step?

This wasn
’t
a decision to be made in the heat of the moment, but with clear thought and
careful consideration. Her heartbeat pounded a staccato beat as she typed her
response.

Yes.

Dom
received Irisa
’s text at the dog park with Champ.

Yes.

A simple word, but
teeming with meaning. His body tightened. He hustled home. So much to do.
Shoveling dishes and dust out of the way, making his cave inviting, and maybe
giving Champ a bath
…

When he stepped into the
lobby, his past stared him in the face.

Blonde, blue-eyed, and
artificially enhanced, Natalie strode toward him.
“Dom.”

Champ growled and
strained forward, testing the leash
’s strength. Dom wanted
to growl, too. “What are you doing here?”

“I need a favor…”

Narrowing his gaze, he
shook his head. After the way they
’d parted, her asking for
a favor took a lot of nerve.

She shifted on her
mile-high shoes.
“I’ve seen you photographed with Irisa
Rostov.”

“And?”

“I thought I’d try my
hand at singing. I made a demo.” She held out an envelope. “I was hoping you’d
pass it along to her. You know, for old times’ sake.”

“You come at me out of
the blue and expect me to hand this over to her?” He shook his head. “Not
happening. Go through the proper channels like everyone else.”

She pouted.
“It’s
who
you know that gets you ahead in life. I might never get a response if I have to
submit it like everyone else.
”

“And you don’t know
anyone else in the music industry?” He found that hard to believe. She’d been a
model, a reality show contestant, and, as of their breakup, a B-movie starlet.

“Not anyone connected
with Excite Records.” She came closer, a practiced smile on her lips.

The dog growled and
tugged on his leash. Champ had never liked her.

Her brows lifted.
“Come
on. Please?”

Champ growled again. Dom
glanced over his shoulder. He didn
’t want Irisa walking
into the lobby and seeing him standing with Natalie. She might get the wrong
idea. “You should have called instead of just showing up. How did you even find
out where I was?”

“We still have some
mutual friends. I didn’t think you’d agree to see me if I called and told you
what I wanted.”

“You were right.”

“Dom.” She pouted again.
“Just because we didn’t work out isn’t any reason to hold a grudge.”

“You stole my college
championship ring and sold it to pay for your boob job and tummy tuck.” He’d
had to pay double to get his treasured ring back.

“Do this favor for me. I
won’t ask for another.”

The desperation in her
voice could have been real, but he couldn
’t trust anything
regarding her. He remembered Adam relaying Gemma’s troubles with breaking into
the acting business. But Natalie wasn’t Gemma. Gemma was sweet and supportive.
Under all the layers of trying too hard, Natalie was a calculating opportunist
who desperately wanted to be noticed. He just wanted her gone. “No.”

“What can I do to
convince you? I can stay here all day. I’ve got the time.” She would, too. What
if she ran into Irisa? He could see her sidling up, claiming to be his old
friend…

“I’ll think about it. No
promises.”

She squealed and threw
her arms around him, and her cloud of perfume nearly choked him. Squeezing him
tight, she pressed in close.
“Thank you.”