Finding Joy (The Joy Series) (Volume 2) (19 page)

I nodded resolutely. “It will help. You’re a nervous wreck.”

“Not the Patron. The Patron is the best idea anyone’s had all night. I was talking about actually getting up on stage and making an ass of myself.”

The bartender slid four shots in front of us, and I tossed him my credit card. Might as well start a tab. We were going to be here all night. “You are
not
going to make an ass of yourself. You’re going to be great up there,” I said, handing her the first shot with the other. She licked the salt off the rim, slammed it back, and sucked on the accompanying lime. I followed suit.

“I hope so,” she said, already reaching for the second shot. “Because if I fuck this up, I’ll never hear the end of it from Burke. NEVER.”

We took the last two shots. “Want another?” I asked.

“Nah. That should get the job done. I had two glasses of wine getting ready, and Barnacle bought me that beer when I got here. Surely, all of that and the tequila will get the job done.”

I looked at her in shock. Crap. That was a lot of alcohol. And not the types that should be mixed together. “Just remember one thing when you get up there,” I said, as we turned away from the bar to head back to the boys. “We throw down. Not up.”

Carly laughed and moved back across the room. I followed behind her and couldn’t help but giggle at Carly’s swagger. “What?” she asked, turning back around.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You’re walking like you just got off a horse. Please tell me Burke didn’t do that to you.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “Please. Hell no. I worked out for like 12 minutes yesterday morning. I’m so sore I can barely move. That Jillian Michaels is a bitch.”

I laughed and followed her to where the boys were congregating near the side of the stage. “Well, let’s hope that the tequila kicks in so that you don’t have to walk up on stage like that.”

“I think it already is working,” she giggled. Maybe two shots had been one shot too many.

Burke looked up from the cord he was coiling. “What? You ladies talking about the fact that Carl can barely walk. Yeah, I did that.”

“Riiiiiiigggghhhttt,” Carly muttered under her breath.

“Seriously, I did. I tried this new move on her …” he said before being cut off by the slap of Carly’s hand across his arm.

“You’ve got some moves, all right,” she said, grinning at him.

“I do. You know who else has some moves?” Burke said. “That stupid ass dog of hers. He is a worthless piece of shit. Completely and totally untrainable.”

Adam started chuckling into his bottle of Shiner. “So are you ready to call the bet then? Because I’ve got video evidence that Rubber Cat has already won.”

“Are you kidding?” Burke said. “You’ve seriously trained that cat to shit in the toilet?”

“It’s a done deal,” I said. “Rubber Cat is fully domesticated. Is Mr. Big not cooperating?”

“Hell, no. That dog is so confused now he doesn’t have the first clue where to go. The other day he made it into the bathroom, but lifted his leg and peed right on an electrical socket. Electrocuted himself and shorted out the breaker.”

“Oh, my God,” I gasped. “Is he okay?”

“He walked backwards for a couple of hours afterward and is still running into walls and doorways, but he’s fine … the little useless piece of shit.”

Adam was laughing hard at this point. “I can’t wait for New Year’s. Do you have a show lined up yet?” he asked.

“Yeah, I think so, but I’m still working out the details,” Burke said, shaking his head in defeat.

“You’re playing in chaps,” Adam said with a grin.

“Whatever, man,” Burke conceded. “I’ll rock those chaps. In fact, I may start wearing chaps to every gig. It will be like my trademark or whatever. Just don’t make me wear that,” he said, pointing to Adam’s shirt. Without turning back, he wandered off to find out when the show was going to start.

“What’s wrong with my shirt?” Adam asked. Carly and I both stared at the orange t-shirt. A beaver danced across his chest with the phrase ‘Dam It’ printed below.

“Not a thing,” I said. “I like your beaver.”

Adam reached over and pulled me into his side. “Not as much as I like your beaver,” he said, causing Carly to groan.

“Bad dum chhhh,” she said.

When the band took the stage a few minutes later, Carly hung back with Adam and me. Burke had said that they would be playing for about 45 minutes. After that, they would take a break, and then Carly would come in for the first song.

She continued to sip on the beer that Burke had handed her before he had taken to the stage, but she’d stopped drinking as if she was on a mission. The band played one familiar song after another, and we were all soon completely absorbed in the music. Most of the songs were the band’s originals. The regular fans of the Dirty Crows sang along. To pull in the rest of the crowd, they occasionally threw in some of the band’s favorite cover songs.

It wasn’t long before the first half of the set was over. During the short break, the band pounded a few beers themselves, and then they returned to the stage with Carly in tow. While Dirk and Brian slung their guitars around their bodies and Barnacle got situated behind the drums, Carly stood awkwardly in the middle of the stage.

Burke set a mic stand in front of her and then spoke into his own. “Again, thanks for having us here tonight. You guys have been great. This is Carly. She’s my girl, and this is her first time on the stage so be kind to her.” The crowd whooped and hollered, and he nodded at her reassuringly.

The boys strummed and beat out the first few bars of the song I didn’t recognize it. More metal than alternative, it was a sound I wasn’t used to hearing from the Dirty Crows.

I threw a glance at Adam. His big chocolaty eyes gleamed. “Best love song of all time,” he said under his breath.

“What is this?” I leaned in and whispered.

Adam chuckled. “Lita Ford and Ozzy Osbourne?”

I shook my head. “I got nothing.”

“Just listen.” He gave me a fierce look and then silently mouthed “Close your eyes. Close your eyes. You gotta close your eyes for meeeeeee.” He did this just as Carly belted out the opening line. “Baby, I get so scared inside and I don’t really understand ...”

 This was definitely no Spice Girls, but Carly looked unfazed and took no time finding her groove. She swayed and moved to the music. Surprisingly, Burke stepped back and let her shine, not even stepping forward during his parts.

And shine she did. Barnacle had been right. Carly had no business waiting tables. She was a natural performer. Even if there wasn’t a permanent spot for her in the Dirty Crows, she needed to be in front of an audience.

The song was over too soon. With her moment in the spotlight over, she bounced off the stage and made her way to us. “That was so much fun,” she screamed at me over the band’s next song. Adam handed her another beer while I bounced next to her.

“Ozzy Osbourne?” I asked, laughing.

“I know, right?” she said. “Burke wouldn’t hear of anything else. I thought it might be a little too much for my first go around.”

“It wasn’t. You were so awesome,” I gushed all over her.

Carly blushed and nodded her head frantically. “Don’t tell Burke,” she whispered in my ear. “But I loved it. I freaking loved it.”

Adam wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into his side. “You were awesome, Carl.”

Carly looked at him with a wicked gleam in her eye. “I was, wasn’t I?”

“You were,” he said, grinning back at her.

She smiled happily into her beer and then looked back at the band wistfully. We watched the rest of the set, and 30 minutes later the boys left the stage and joined us by the bar.

Burke captured Carly in a hug and murmured something in her ear. The shit-eating grin on her face told me that he’d complimented her performance. This whole thing was going to have her floating on cloud nine for days.

The drinks were flowing and spirits were high. Eventually, the boys congregated at one end of the bar while Carly, Krista, and I huddled together at the other.

We’d just finished a round of shots, toasting Carly’s first singing success when a guy wandered up and leaned on the bar next to her. I wasn’t in the market for a new man. Not even close. None of us were. But it would have been impossible not to notice that he was a good looking guy. In fact, he was a
very
good looking guy. Krista, who was in agreement, waggled her eyebrows at me.

His blond hair was cut short. Though it was untucked and the sleeves were rolled up, his preppy button-up was a dead giveaway as to how he spent his days. I was well acquainted with his type. In fact, his type had once been my specialty. However, Mr. Wall Street had nothing in common with Adam and was the furthest thing from Burke.

Mr. Hot-And-Tempting gestured to the bartender to get his attention and then flashed Carly a panty-melting smile. When the bartender came over to take his order, he ordered four shots of Patron. The bartender delivered, and he kept one for himself and slid the other three in our direction. “Ladies,” our benefactor said to the group, though his eyes never left Carly. “This round is on me.”

Carly giggled and might have even hiccupped just a little. She’d had too much to drink and probably had no business taking any more shots. “Thanks. But we can’t take those,” she said, surprising me. Maybe she wasn’t too far gone yet after all. Krista, who already had her fingers wrapped around hers, looked at Carly questioningly.

“Why not?” Mr. Panty-Melting-Smile asked. “I could’ve sworn that this was what you and your friend ordered earlier.” He sent a sly smile my direction, and I eyed him suspiciously. I hadn’t noticed anyone watching us earlier. Adam was constantly getting on to me for not being more aware of my surroundings. Maybe he was right.

Carly giggled again and explained. “Sorry, but we all have boyfriends,” she said as she glanced toward the other end of the bar. Our boys were absorbed in their own conversation and were paying no attention to us.

“I’m sure you do,” Mr. Throwing-His-Money-Away responded with a laugh. “I would expect nothing less from beautiful women like you. But I saw you sing, and you were great. You’ve earned these shots.”

Carly giggled for a third time. “Well, okay,” she said. “Thank you.”

Except for Krista who had accepted hers a long time ago, we all reached for our shots.

We tipped them back, and the warm liquid burned all the way down. I still had the lime in my mouth when Burke came barreling over.

“Who the fuck are you?” Burke asked, rudely eyeballing our host.

Mr. Screwed-And-Didn’t-Know-It smirked at Burke. “I take it this is your boyfriend?” he asked Carly, effectively dismissing Burke. I’d been around Burke enough and heard enough stories to know that this was not going to go over well with him. Showing a complete lack of judgment, Carly giggled again, and he glared at her.

“Your girlfriend did well up there,” Mr. Hot-But-Not-Too-Smart said. “I noticed she only sang one song. I hope you realize that she’s got some real talent, and you’re underutilizing her.”

Burke’s eyes narrowed, and he flexed his hands by his side. “Rest assured that I’m not underutilizing her in any way, shape, or form.” Burke was ready to kick the guy’s ass. It was written all over his face and emanated from his body.

I shot a warning glance at Adam as he sidled up next to Burke. He threw an arm around his friend’s shoulders. “What’s up, my man?” he asked, giving Burke a hard look.

“This guy is hitting on my fucking girl.”

“Oh, surely not. I think he was just leaving.” Adam tipped his head to the side as if to suggest that it was a good time for Mr. Doomed to make his exit.

His eyes danced around the group. Determining that he was outnumbered, he wisely stepped back and lifted his hands in surrender. “I meant no harm,” he said to Adam. “I was just buying the lady a congratulatory drink.”

Burke moved in Mr. Not-Moving-Fast-Enough’s direction, but Adam pulled him in tighter. “I’m sure they appreciate it, but you’d better move on now.”

Mr. Scared-Shitless-and-Running nodded in agreement and turned away. Even as he blended into the crowd in the middle of the room, Burke bristled, unable to let it go.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Carly barked in his face.

“What the fuck is wrong with
you
?” he flipped back at her as Adam released him ... a little too soon, in my opinion.

“Geez, Burke, he just bought me a drink. He thought I did a good job up there,” she said, gesturing to the empty stage.

“No,” Burke bellowed. “He wanted in your pants, Carl. I should know.”

We all stepped back a bit to give them some room. It wasn’t necessary though. Carly didn’t need more room. Instead, she got right in Burke’s face. “Do you really think I would let him?” she spit out.

“Maybe. I don’t know,” Burke said.

Carly gave him the most severe go-to-hell look I’d ever seen, turned on her heel, and stalked off. Krista chased after her, looking over her shoulder at us with a confused expression.

Burke threw his hands in the air and uttered a string of cuss words.

“Dude,” Barnacle muttered. “Rein yourself in before you say or do something else stupid.”

“Say something stupid?” Burke grunted. “I didn’t say anything stupid.”

Adam snorted in response.

“What?” Burke asked incredulously. “I know what he wanted from her. The same thing I want from her.”

I loved Burke but he could be incredibly dense sometimes. I grabbed his arm and gave it a squeeze and then narrowed my eyes at him. “Burke, you’re a real cockdonkey. Do you know that?”

He snorted at me. “A what?”

“A cockdonkey. I know you’re not trying to be a Neanderthal idiot, but you kind of are. She didn’t do anything wrong. He was just some random guy who wanted to buy her a drink because she was so great tonight.”

Burke looked thoughtful, and then a smirk took over his face. “She really was, wasn’t she?”

“She was,” I said. “And you pretty much told her you think she’s a whore.”

“I did not,” he protested.

 “Uhhh, Burke,” Adam interjected. “I think you’re finally getting a taste of your own medicine.”