Rock Chick Reckoning (Rock Chick #6)(68)

“Your what? ” Al y semi-yel ed, stil spluttering.

“Wel , he wasn’t my boyfriend but he was, kind of. We were seeing each other,” I explained.

“Were?” Indy asked.

“After Mace and I, erm,” I bit my lip and my eyes slid to Vance who was studying his boots then I looked back to Indy. “Did it, ” I whispered to the girls and then went on talking in my normal voice. “We al had a showdown, Mace, Eric and me. During the showdown, Mace told Eric he f**ked me. Bluntly. Eric didn’t appreciate that.”

“I bet he didn’t,” Shirleen muttered, making eyes at Daisy.

“Why didn’t you tel us about Eric?” Al y demanded to know.

I shrugged. “Wel , Eric and I were together but we weren’t. It’s hard to explain. Then I found out he was a Fed

–”

“What? ” It was Daisy’s turn to splutter through a defunct swal ow of beer.

“Yeah, a Fed. He’s investigating Sid too and got close to me to do it. But he said he fel for me. Told me straight out, right in front of Mace, right after Mace told him he f**ked me.” I paused, not wishing to share further because sharing meant reliving. I was stil nursing a mini-buzz and I needed to keep it going for the last set and reliving that particular memory would kil the buzz dead. “It’s complicated,” I finished.

“It ain’t complicated, it’s f**ked up. That’s what it is,” Shirleen commented and she was not wrong.

“I can’t believe Mace told him he f**ked you. Did he use those words?” Ava asked and at my nod, she went on.

“That’s just rude.”

“That’s just the Hot Bunch. They’re al straight-talkers,” Indy reminded her.

“Stil , this Eric guy has a thing for Stel a. He could at least try to be sensitive,” Ava continued.

This made Shirleen, Al y and Indy burst into gales of laughter and Daisy, Roxie and Jet started giggling.

Shirleen wiped an eye. “Mace? Sensitive? Ava, girl, you are too much.”

Ava gave Shirleen a look.

I gave Vance a look wondering what he thought of al this.

Jules, again, had passed on the night out with the Rock Chicks, preferring to stay home and keep herself and her unborn baby safe.

This, I thought, was a good decision.

Vance had given up on his study of his boots and was now wearing a shit-eating grin and watching me.

Apparently what Vance thought about al of this was that it was highly amusing.

I rol ed my eyes.

His grin got wide.

Whatever!

There came a knock at the door and Vance went tense.

“Scout,” Hector’s voice said from the other side of the door and it was my turn to go tense.

“Scout?” Roxie breathed, her huge eyes swinging to me and al the Rock Chicks swayed with the excitement fil ing the room.

“I’m unavailable,” I said to Vance quickly but he ignored me and opened the door.

Damn it!

Monk walked in with Hector and a balding, middle-aged man who stil managed, even thin on the top, to look cool wearing jeans, a light blue col ared shirt and black boots.

“Stel a, beautiful, you’re on fire tonight,” Monk raved, clenching his hands together like a greedy, maniacal banker in a bad movie.

I stood and murmured my thanks, my eyes on the scout.

My eyes being on the scout had the added benefit of al owing me to avoid Hector, Vance, Monk and the Rock Chicks.

I took a pul from my beer, swal owed and asked, “And you are?”

“Dixon Jones. A&R. Black Fat Records,” he answered.

Oh.

Wow.

I’d heard of Black Fat Records even though they hadn’t been around very long. They were smal and they were choosy. They found good talent, they took good care of them and they had a kil er marketing department.

If I’d ever wanted The Gypsies to be signed, it would be with an outfit like Black Fat Records.

“Enjoying the show?” I asked like I didn’t care, which I didn’t. Not real y.

But then again, I did.

What the ef was wrong with me?

Dixon Jones smiled at me, it was genuine and it threw me.

“You write the new material?” he asked and this threw me too.

I shook my head. “That’s Buzz, my bass player. He writes the music. And Leo, my rhythm guitar. He writes the lyrics.”

“Those songs were tight. It’s good to see you branching out of covers,” Dixon commented and this threw me most of al .

“You catch a gig before?” I asked, doing my damnedest to stay outwardly calm.

“Anytime I’m in Denver, The Gypsies are playing, I come,” Dixon replied.

Oh my Lord!

“So why haven’t you ever met my girl here?” Monk pushed in and clapped Dixon on the back. It gave me the creepy-crawlies to be referred to as Monk’s girl, so much so, even though I tried to stop it, my lip curled.

Dixon looked down his nose at Monk and replied,

“Except when they’re playing The Pal adium. I usual y avoid The Pal adium.”

Monk got a little pale and stepped back.

I couldn’t help myself, I smirked at Dixon Jones. Al of a sudden, I liked him.

“Couldn’t miss tonight,” he said, lifting a copy of USA Today I hadn’t noticed he was carrying. “Rock ‘n’ rol in the face of certain danger. I figured it’d be good but shit. Gotta tel you, Stel a, you and your boys delivered beyond expectation. Your set list is inspired.”