Bad Things(87)
I turned away quickly, not wanting to look at Tristan, or notice all of the women waiting to get the band’s attention.
I counted to ten, not letting myself look at him again.
“Does the casino have a magic act?” I asked James, a devil getting ahold of my tongue.
“Excuse me?” he asked, looking amused but baffled.
“Tristan, the lead singer. You said he was an attention grabber. You’re right. He is. He’s a great singer, but that’s not even his biggest talent.”
“Really? Do tell.”
“He does card tricks. Sleight of hand that you wouldn’t believe. I can’t even describe it, it’s so good. You should ask him about it. And you should think about getting a fresh, young magic act. There’s enough old men with too much plastic surgery dominating that field. You should do something different.”
James didn’t blow off my suggestion, as I’d more than half assumed he would.
“That’s a solid idea. Our current act is a walking heart attack, so I’ll have to ask Tristan about this sometime. Ah, here he is. Tristan, Danika’s been telling me…”
James trailed off as a hand grabbed my arm from behind.
“Excuse me,” I heard an achingly familiar voice growl right before I was being dragged out of the room by a big hand that was attached to the person that I least wanted to see in the world.
TRISTAN
It was even worse than I’d anticipated, when I laid eyes on her again. One glance at her and I was lost.
We weren’t alone, in fact it felt like everyone I’d ever met was crowded into the room with us. She was standing close to Frankie, their sides nearly touching. She was thinner than the other woman, but she towered over her, especially in those f*ck-me heels.
Both of them had black hair, but that was about all they had in common, looks wise. Still, they were a striking sight, standing side by side. Danika looked like a supermodel, her lithe curves hugged perfectly in that tiny white dress that drove me out of my mind crazy, and Frankie could have been a pinup model, with her half-shirt exposing huge amounts of toned, inked up skin.
They were talking to James, in fact they’d gone directly to him, as though no one else was in the room. But of course, that wasn’t the worst of it…
The part that made my gut twist hard was that she barely looked at me, just one quick glance and she looked pointedly away, as though she was afraid to meet my eyes, as though she didn’t think I’d be happy to see her there.
That killed me, but I couldn’t blame her. I’d been a bastard. Not only had I not called her for weeks, I hadn’t even been the one to invite her here, hadn’t even tried to reach out when I knew she was coming.
She was saying something to James that had her eyes flashing, her hands moving in small gestures to emphasize her point.
She was doing that adorable thing she did where she got so passionate about a subject that it turned into a rant. I loved it when she did that, and now she was doing it for James Cavendish.
And worse, James looked fascinated by her, interrupting her impassioned little tirade occasionally, his smile warm.
The guys had all been worried that our pink-haired opening act would blow our shot at a record deal, but I realized that I was about to do that, when I choked out James f*cking Cavendish.
I was moving to them, approaching Danika from behind, before I could stop myself.
I overheard the last bit of what Danika was saying to Cavendish as I walked up.
“Tristan, the lead singer. You said he was an attention grabber. You’re right. He is. He’s a great singer, but that’s not even his biggest talent.”
“Really? Do tell.”
“He does card tricks. Sleight of hand that you wouldn’t believe. I can’t even describe it, it’s so good. You should ask him about it. And you should think about getting a fresh, young, hot magic act. There’s enough old men with too much plastic surgery dominating the game. You should do something different.”
My chest ached, my vision going a bit blurry.
Cavendish smiled at her like she’d just said something brilliant. He looked up, said something in my general direction, but I barely heard him, I was so floored by the revelation that, while I’d been a complete bastard to her, she was promoting me like she was my damned cheerleader.
I didn’t think, I just moved, striding to her, grabbing her arm, and dragging her with me out of the room.