Mama Said (2 page)

Gabriella mulled over the scenario. It made sense. “He does look more like a detective than a bar owner. But you’d think he’d at least try to be friendly.”

“As long as you’re here when you’re supposed to be, he’s fine. Besides, both Shane and Garrett make themselves scarce. Neither one sticks around past eight or so. For the most part, they leave things up to Mack.”

“If he hates being here so much, why doesn’t he sell it?”

“They’ve got it up for sale, but no takers yet.” Donna adjusted her seat behind the keyboard. “Most of the popular bars are a little further south, closer to Lincoln Park or Wrigleyville. This place has some potential, but it’s off the beaten path.” She smiled and her whole face lit up. “With your amazing voice, I have a feeling things might change around here for the better.”

“I’ll only be here a month.”

“A lot can happen in a month.”

CHAPTER TWO

Curious, Shane stayed longer than he normally would have and played bartender, relegating Mack to gofer duties. Based on the contemptuous look on his face, Mack didn’t like it too much. Tough.

Shane didn’t like owning a place that ran in the red every month, but he had no choice other than putting up with it for the time being. Considering that the employees of the Blues Stop currently outnumbered the customers, he had a good idea why Walt had so easily offered up this place as collateral. It was a money pit.

He tamped down his frustration and took a gulp of water. Leaning against the back of the bar, he watched as Ms. Trouble got ready for her first set. A hint of nerves played out in her fidgety movements. If she had so much experience, why was she acting like a rookie?

Now he regretted not listening to the demo tape she’d sent in. He hated paying for a singer in the first place. But if she sucked, he’d be really pissed. Forget lust, he’d have no choice but to fire her and pay off the contract.

* * *

He was making her nervous. And he knew it. And unless she missed her guess, he was getting a vicarious thrill out of it.

Music had been a part of Gabriella’s life for as far back as she could remember. Despite that, for perhaps the first time ever, a hint of stage fright seeped inside, shaking her confidence. No doubt Mr. Cranky Pants was responsible.

A trickle of sweat traversed her spinal column. Fanning herself with a piece of paper, she wished somebody would lower the air conditioning about ten degrees. But considering that might cost a few extra dollars, fat chance that would happen.

Instead, she made do, drew the hair away from her neck, and held a sliver of ice to the skin. It didn’t work all that well, especially when Shane glowered at her with that scowl firmly affixed to his face.

After the initial crankiness, he seemed to have settled into a perpetual state of anger. While he didn’t say much, his piercing eyes told the story. He didn’t want her here, didn’t think he needed her, and was hatching a plan to get rid of her as soon as possible.

Which was a new phenomenon for her. She wasn’t accustomed to men wanting to get rid of her. Little did he know she had a stubborn streak a mile long, especially when it came to proving a point.

To show Shane she couldn’t be intimidated, she scowled back at him before adjusting the microphone. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I’m Gabriella Santos, brought here by the very generous owner of the Blues Stop,” she stopped to give him a game-on wink, “all the way from Florida.” Smiling, she tried to keep her nerves at bay. “Based on the weather outside, I feel right at home.”

“You should try being here in January,” a man shouted from the audience.

Her flirtatious side kick-started to life. “I’m a hot-blooded woman, but even I can’t generate enough heat to counteract a thirty-below wind chill.” He responded with a chuckle, and she continued, “With the help of Donna, my accompanist, we’ll weave our way through the greats—Billie Holiday, Dinah Washington, Ella Fitzgerald, and some Koko Taylor. Being in a blues town like Chicago, I have some big shoes to fill, but I’m going to try. Hopefully you’ll think I do them justice.”

At that point, she got down to business and did what she did best. Any nervousness she had experienced earlier melted away as quickly as it had come. Before she knew it, she had the first set of the evening under her belt.

* * *

She was good. Really good. And sexier than a woman had a right to be.

But what was she doing strutting toward Shane with an enormous grin on her face? No doubt she expected him to eat his words and fill her with compliments.

No way. Even if every time she moved, his libido inched closer to the danger zone.

“Could I have some water, no ice, with a slice of lemon?”

When she spoke, her sultry voice sent a shiver of pure lust rocketing through his system. Instead of letting her know he found her the least bit attractive, he motioned toward Mack who was walking up to join them. “He could have gotten that for you and brought it to your dressing room.”

Mack slid into the seat next to her. “Incredible voice, Gabriella. Sounds even better than on your demo tapes.”

“Thanks. That’s sweet of you to say.”

Shane grumbled. The woman already had a big head. No sense adding to it. “If you’re not too busy feeding our star’s ego, Mack, maybe you could re-stock the beer case. We’re running a little low.”

Looking irritated, Gabriella drummed her fingers along the bar top and glanced around. “You should play music between sets. Some people might want to dance.”

“When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it.” Music? What was the matter with her? Was she trying to turn this dive into a dance hall or something?

“Are you always this personable, or is it me?”

He rocked back on his heels and folded his arms across his chest. “Let’s get this straight. I don’t like being railroaded.”

“I didn’t railroad you,” she huffed. “I know you’re new to this bar owning thing, but I’ve been popping in and out of them all of my life, even before I was legal. People need more than a singer. Even a good one. They need ambiance. They need fun.” She shook her head. “And I’m not getting that vibe here.”

He stared at her. “I don’t do fun.”

“I kinda got that.” With that, she took her glass of water and walked away.

Damn, she was irritating. But why did he find himself fascinated by the fact that she hadn’t backed down from him?

* * *

The man brought irritating to a whole other level. She should have known it would be futile to expect anything but surliness. Annoyed, she went into the back room and vented to Donna before the next set started.

“I thought you said Shane usually left by eight. It’s nearly nine-thirty and it looks like he’s settled in for the night.”

She shrugged. “He’s probably going to stick around and see how you do.”

Of course. Mr. Cranky Pants was a major control freak. “He said something about moving me from the hotel once the bar closes. But I’d hoped he’d make himself scarce until then.”

“Believe me, his bark is much worse than his bite. He’s mad because Mack made the decision to hire a new singer without consulting him. He’ll get over it.”

“But in the meantime, he’s taking it out on me,” she grumbled as they made their way back onstage.

Quickly, one set slid into the next and then the night was finished.

Which was good news and bad. She’d gotten through her first night in what she would consider passable fashion, even with the meager crowd. The bad news was that now she was going to be stuck with him. She racked her brain to think of an excuse to avoid it, but he didn’t seem to be the type to back down once he decided to do something.

After escorting Donna to her car, Shane came back inside and folded his arms across his chest. “You’re better than I thought you’d be.”

“Don’t start giving me compliments, I might get a big head.” It was about time he said something nice to her.

She perched her butt on one of the unoccupied bar stools and sipped a glass of water. Tapping her polished red nails against the bar, she tried to think of something else to say as the silence stretched between them. Typically she wasn’t at a loss for words, but somehow with him it felt as if she had to measure each and every syllable before opening her mouth.

He spoke after what seemed at least a year or more of unending silence. “I’ll let Mack finish up so we can get you settled in that apartment.”

“It’s kind of silly to pay for a hotel room for the night and not at least wait until check-out time. It’s not like the Holiday Inn is one of those four-hour-nap places.” Her attempt at humor didn’t even rate a smile from him.

“You’d be surprised at the number of married men and women I’ve nabbed doing exactly that. Nice hotel, fancy security, they let their guard down.”

Something about the look that crossed his face made her believe he got a vicarious thrill out of catching people engaged in illicit affairs. She wondered why. Had a girlfriend cheated on him? Was he a cheater himself? Even though she was curious, she didn’t dare pursue it—especially now that he was being almost civil.

Instead, she nodded in agreement, as if they’d had this same conversation a million times before. “That’s right, you’re a detective and only a bar owner by default.”

“I hope to rectify that soon.” He pulled keys from his pocket. “We’d better get going.”

“Everything I have is unpacked. It will take me a while to pack it all back up again.” Translation: Her hotel room looked like a disaster area since she’d gone through her entire wardrobe trying to figure out what to wear for opening night. It would take hours to get everything re-organized, re-packed, and ready to go.

The last thing she needed was to have him watch her while she gathered her things. No doubt he’d be tapping his foot in irritation with his patented scowl firmly in place the entire time.

Pulling out a BlackBerry from his pocket, he retrieved the data he needed. “It can’t wait until tomorrow. I’m booked until after check-out time.”

“Will paying for an extra day break the bank?” She liked living in hotels. That way she didn’t have to cook or clean. Everything she needed or wanted was close by twenty-four/seven. Normally, she didn’t have to explain she was a high-maintenance kind of gal. Either this guy was dense—which she highly doubted—or he didn’t care about her creature comfort.

“It might. Mack is paying you twice as much as the last singer, plus expenses.” He shrugged. “This place is leaking money. I’m trying to minimize the damage.”

“You need more people to fill the place up.”

“Brilliant,” he grumbled, putting away the BlackBerry and turning to straighten some of the bottles in back.

The last thing she wanted to do was sit in a car with this man. Geez, she was feeling cranky just being around him. “I could take a cab back to the hotel tonight and move out in the morning on my own. That way, I wouldn’t put you out.” And she wouldn’t have to endure his less-than-stellar company. A definite bonus.

He eyed her for a second or two, clearly doubting her sincerity, then shrugged. “No big deal. It shouldn’t take long.” Without giving her an opportunity to give him an answer, he walked toward the door and held it open. “Don’t worry. The upside is Mack and Donna both know you’re getting a ride with me, so if you end up dead, the police will know where to look.”

Wow, he’d actually made a joke, as evidenced by the cheeky half-smile he gave her as she walked past him out the door. “Now I feel much better,” she mumbled, not quite sure how else to respond.

Every tap of her heels against the sidewalk seemed to echo as the quiet of night settled around them. Walking on the north side of Chicago at 2
A.M.
on a Wednesday wasn’t quite like walking the lively streets of South Beach at the same time. A few cars passed and in the distance she heard a siren. Otherwise, a heavy silence.

The temperature was different, too. Instead of the suffocating humidity of an August night in Miami, a cool breeze whispered against her exposed skin.

His car was parked about a block away on the opposite side of the street. After pressing the remote, he walked around to the passenger side and opened the door for her. Once she got settled inside, he closed the door and walked around to his side.

Despite the perpetual bad vibe emanating from him, she felt more relaxed than she would have expected. Stretching out in the seat, she allowed her legs to reach their full extension.

“Why Chicago?”

Although part of her had expected the question at some point, it still caught her off guard. She’d figured he’d remain quiet during their short ride, but, no doubt suspicious by nature, he couldn’t resist the opportunity to probe.

How did she know what was going through his head? Because he was like her brothers, except they used charm to cover up their suspicious natures. Shane wouldn’t know charm if it slapped him upside the head.

“Why not? I needed a change of scenery. When this gig came up, I jumped at the opportunity.”

“Bull.” He shifted gears and glanced at her. “There’s more to your story than that. You’ve lived in Florida your whole life. Your family is there. Your support. Why come all this way for a change of scenery?”

“I don’t know if it’ll make you feel any better to know this, but I’ve had a series of bad relationships, bad karma, and bad luck. I needed a place to shake off the stink, as it were.” Oversimplification, but it might be enough information to satisfy him. She had a bad feeling he wouldn’t stop until he got the answer he sought.

Shane chewed on that for a few minutes before he spoke again. “I’ll buy that’s part of it, but there’s more you’re not saying.”

“Florida can be a nasty place this time of year. Coming up north seemed like a welcome relief.” She didn’t need to tell him everything. He didn’t need to know that she’d had a no-good manager. And he definitely didn’t need to know that despite exuding confidence, she still fell for every line of crap a guy gave her. Her naiveté rivaled that of her five-year-old niece at times. She wasn’t going to get into the gory details of a life that caused her family to question her judgment ninety percent of the time.