Kiss Me Goodnight (20 page)

I had a whole list of calls to return about the band, and I seriously wondered whether I had a duty to do it or not. Some were callbacks from venues I’d been trying to reach to book dates. Others were likely new inquiries. Two were from music company executives who wanted to arrange a date and time to see the band perform. They were very close to landing a recording contract.

It had been a tense two days. Ice formed in a room whenever both Dylan and I were present. The band members were reluctant to get further involved or choose sides, and I didn’t blame them. They were a unit, a team, and they’d been friends since long before I entered their lives.

But I’d brought opportunities they wouldn’t have had without me, thanks to the contacts I got through Thomas’s friend—and my tenacity, of course. I’m sure things would have eventually worked out for them, but I don’t deny that my presence expedited the process.

Sunday in Ann Arbor was the closing date for the mini-tour. Kiss Me Goodnight had left the stage, and the crowd thumped around the headliners. Now that it was safe, I headed to the bar to have a drink. Luma and Jane were somewhere in the throng, enjoying a band they liked. I’d touched base with them before the performance, though I hadn’t told them anything about that fucking song or my resignation as the band’s manager.

“Is this seat taken?”

I looked up from my brooding to find Thomas standing next to me. My troubles slid away, and I launched myself into his arms. He kissed me tenderly and held me close. After this weekend from hell, I needed him more than I ever had.

He guided me back to the stool I’d abandoned at the counter and took the seat next to me. The bar would be packed after the performance, but right now the concertgoers had abandoned it.

“I missed you too.”

“You didn’t tell me you were flying in. I would have met you at the airport.” This gig was close enough to home that I didn’t need to be here, which made me wonder why I’d stayed for the performance. Am I a glutton for punishment?

He signaled the bartender and gave his order before turning back to me. “I wanted to surprise you. And I kind of wanted to see this band you’re spending all this time managing.”

My jaw dropped. “You were here for the performance?”

The bartender delivered his drink. Thomas nodded and sipped. “They’re good. Damn good. I’m not a huge fan of alternative music, but I can see the crossover appeal. With the right management, they could get some mainstream play. That song—I think it’s called ‘Wrong Name’—is priceless. It’s ironic and irreverent, catchy without being annoying. They have some good slow songs too. Whoever writes the lyrics must’ve had his heart broken more than once.”

Shoot me in the head. Now, please. I can’t take much more of this. I officially hate that song. “Yeah, well, I wish them loads of luck with their next manager.”

Thomas frowned. With that goatee, the expression only made him look cuter. “Next manager? Are you quitting? You can’t quit. They’re good enough to be the next big thing. You’ve only been with them a short while, but you’re the one making that happen.”

I shook my head. “I couldn’t do any of this without those contacts and Patrick’s name. He’s your friend, and you’re the one who made this possible.”

He snorted. “Don’t sell yourself short. Patrick didn’t give you anything precious. The phone numbers of radio stations and concert venues aren’t hard to find. He saved you some legwork, sure, but that’s all.”

I was poised to disagree, but he barreled on.

“Can you honestly tell me dropping Patrick’s name has made a difference? People don’t know the names of those who work behind the scenes.”

Truthfully, I hadn’t used Patrick’s name. I’d been sending emails with the band’s signature song attached and following up with phone calls and visits. I was pedaling Kiss Me Goodnight like a pharmaceutical rep pedals drugs. And I was also selling liquor at record rates. My two jobs were truly complementary. As it stood, I was scoping out this bar as a possible new client.

Thomas took my silence for agreement. “I thought not. It’s you, Lacey. You’re an amazing woman. I keep telling you that, and one day you’ll finally realize how right I am.”

He grinned and smooched my cheek.

“I’m still quitting. I’m not getting along with the lead singer. I punched him a couple of nights ago. That’s not good.”

Thomas’s grin faded, and an ominous light came into his eyes, rendering them a deep, dark brown. “What happened? I thought you two were friends.”

“We were. We aren’t anymore.” I didn’t want to say anything else. How could I tell Thomas we’d fought about him, I’d come close to sleeping with Dylan, and then Dylan had written a nasty song about me because he was mad I turned him down? On the other hand, I didn’t want to lie to Thomas. I’d begun our relationship like that, but I was determined to be truthful with him.

So I told him everything. Almost everything. I did not tell him I’d intended to sleep with Dylan, though I did admit to the kissing parts. Mostly I focused on how Dylan thought I would wait for him while he spent who knew how many years sorting through his feelings for his deceased wife.

Thomas regarded me soberly. “Do you want to be with him?”

I shook my head. “It was a mistake. He and I are not compatible. I realized that before I ever texted you the photo of those test results. I’m with you because I want to be with you. He just thinks because there was once a bit of ‘maybe’ between us, he’s entitled to having me whenever he decides it’s time.”

“Wow. When you decide to tell the truth, you really lay it out there, don’t you?” He ran his thumb along his jaw as wheels seemed to churn in his head. Thomas is a smart man. He was no doubt reading between the lines and arriving at conclusions. Finally, he closed his hand over mine. “Lacey, you and I are just getting started. Neither of us has stopped dabbling in other options. We’ve purposely kept things casual because we didn’t want to rush. I think the time has come for us to have a serious talk about where we’re headed.”

“Probably, but I don’t want to have it in a bar.” I went to slide from my stool. We could go to my place to have this serious talk.

Thomas stopped me. “Wait. I just remembered something Patrick said about working with creative types. Most of them behave like spoiled brats. They’re the personality type that seeks the spotlight. They’re full of themselves, and they feed on the adoration of fans. But if they weren’t like that, they wouldn’t work so hard to achieve fame. Don’t quit. Give it time. Dylan will move on as soon as he meets another beautiful woman. With his career choice, that won’t be long.”

I didn’t agree with his assessment of Dylan, but I wasn’t going to argue the point. “I’ll think about it.” That’s all I would concede. “I have to find Luma and Jane. They want to meet you.”

Luma was difficult to peel away from the show until she realized what I wanted. Jane squealed loudly, but she pulled herself together before we made it back to the bar where I’d left Thomas.

He shook the hands of my friends with the enthusiasm of a man who’d spent almost a month hearing about them. I loved my friends more than anything, and Thomas respected their place in my life.

Jane leaned in and gave him a peck on the cheek. “We’ve heard some pretty spectacular things about you.”

He flashed a polite smile, the kind men get when they know they’ve been dissected by women but aren’t sure they want to hear the details. “I can say the same about you and Luma.”

I didn’t hear everything they said. The band was loud, and once Jane and Luma moved in, I wasn’t the closest person to Thomas. But I witnessed laughing and smiles. My friends were being nice, taking in the details of the man who’d flown me to three different cities for dates.

Before too long, Gavin appeared by my side. He’d been letting his hair grow for the first time in his life, and it hung down past his ears. I didn’t consider it long, but he did. I guess if you live with a buzz cut for so many years, you forget what it’s like to actually have hair. He had that gorgeous blond color with natural highlights for which women pay vast sums of money, and he truly did not appreciate his good fortune.

He hadn’t changed after the performance, but since he smelled more like perfume and body spray than manly sweat, I figured he’d been close to female fans. Perhaps Thomas had a point about Dylan; the band did seem to be accumulating groupies everywhere they went. Both Gavin and Levi were single now, so they’d begun to take advantage of their positions in the band.

Gavin slung his arm around my shoulders and pulled me so close his lips brushed against my ear. “Lacey, please don’t quit. We can’t do this without you.”

Politely as I could, I put some space between us. “You can too.”

“How about if we kick Dylan out of the band?”

I laughed, but it was a bitter imitation of amusement. “He’s your front man and your lyricist. You need him a lot more than you need me. Without me, you’ll have to do more work, but without Dylan, you don’t have a band.”

Thomas must have been shooting a speculative look our way, because Gavin suddenly stuck out his hand. “Gavin Reid. I play bass for Kiss Me Goodnight.”

Now that he knew who was hugging on me, Thomas relaxed. He shook Gavin’s hand. “Thomas Pritchett. Lacey has mentioned you.”

Gavin’s handshake stuttered as he no doubt realized he was greeting the man Dylan and I had been fighting about. But he recovered quickly. “Thomas, yes. Lacey says you’re the reason she’s been able to book us so many shows.”

Before Thomas could issue his denial, Gavin continued. “Of course, we all know it has more to do with her persistence and drive than anything else.”

The grin on Thomas’s face grew tenfold. “I keep trying to tell her that, but as you know, she’s stubborn.”

That cracked the ice, and the situation thawed considerably. Levi joined us next, and when Daisy and Dylan came our way, they found the six of us raucously conversing at a table on the other side of the bar. That part was abandoned because the stage was obscured from those seats. Lucky us. I can’t say I particularly liked the headlining act.

Daisy inserted a chair between Luma and Gavin. Levi and Jane scooted so Dylan could sit as far away from me as possible. That put him in prime position to glare. To be fair, he did split the malice evenly between Thomas and me.

That is, until Levi leaned over and said something short and sharp in his ear. Then Dylan looked everywhere but at me. No matter, I was determined not to let him spoil this unexpectedly good turn on a bad night. My friends had finally met Thomas, and he was charming them all.

Chapter Fourteen

T
HOMAS
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TAYED
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M
Y
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PARTMENT
for four days. Turns out he was in Michigan on business. He offered to get a hotel room, but I wouldn’t hear of it. I only had one bedroom and one bed, but I was more than willing to share it with him.

We did not have sex.

We also waited until the last morning to have that serious discussion about where our relationship was headed.

We’d stayed up late the night before, talking about tons of different things, and we’d slept in until the need for the bathroom had forced him from the bed. My bladder bowed under the power of my need for fifteen more minutes of sleep.

When I did drag my ass from beneath the covers, I found him eating breakfast. I’d cleared out a second spot at my table/desk for him to use. I think he liked having this evidence that I didn’t entertain men at my apartment. He enjoyed reading the newspaper on his tablet while he ate, and I found that habit annoying, so he’d learned to set it aside when I was with him.

The moment I sat down with my bowl of oatmeal, he shut down his tablet and kissed my cheek. “Good morning. You’re looking exceptionally lovely today.”

I glanced down at my body to see what might have triggered that comment. My boobs weren’t showing, but I was wearing a pair of pale gray yoga pants. My ass had probably earned that compliment.

“Thanks. Did you want to talk about where our relationship is headed, or are we going to let that topic alone for at least one more date?” No sense beating around the bush when I could shock him awake faster than coffee.

He laughed and broke his toasted bagel in half. I liked that he didn’t seem to feel defensive. I hated having to couch my questions and comments all the time.

“We can talk. Did you want to start?”

I shook my head. “No. You’re better at this. You go first.”

He cleared his throat, but not in an attempt to put anything off. The man put peanut butter on his bagel—that stuff was sticky. He took a swig of hot coffee to wash it down. “We’ve been on four dates.”

I liked that he didn’t count staying with me for four days as a date. He’d taken me, John, and Mom out to dinner the night after he’d arrived. Sharing a meal with my parents also did not count as a date, and he recognized that fact as well. Last night he took just me to a fancy restaurant, and then we spent some time throwing money away at a casino. That counted as a date.

“I think they’ve gone pretty well. I like spending time with you, and you seem to like spending time with me.”