Manaconda (Hammered #1)(4)

I laughed. “I wish I looked that good right out of bed.”

Indiana’s eyebrow spiked. Laugh lines fanned at the corners of her eyes and around her mouth. She had a wholesome outdoor look that was timeless. “Yeah, you’re definitely a PR person.”

I grinned. “Nah. I just wouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“Call me Indie.”

“Kennedy.”

She waved over at Patrick. “Sorry about that. Patrick was out with Hunter so he didn’t know about you yet.”

“No worries.”

A loud buzz came from Indie’s hip. She unholstered her phone, tapped back a reply to something and clipped it back before I could blink. “Donovan surprised me with that vid-call and I’ve been in crisis mode ever since. Actually, I shouldn’t have been surprised. Everyone is talking about Hunter lately. It’s only smart to do this.”

“I hope he thinks so.”

Indie tipped back a battered straw cowboy hat. “I can guarantee he will not.”

I swallowed a sigh. There were two kinds of people in my business. People who craved the attention and badgered me to get them more, or people who wanted to punch paparazzi. So far, I hadn’t read anything about him attacking the paps, but it was good to be prepared.

“Mr. Lewis definitely wants to use the attention to the band’s favor.”

“And Hunter understands that—mostly.”

I tapped my finger against the edge of my iPad. “But…”

“But he’s less than thrilled with the attention he’s getting, instead of the band.”

Wow. Okay, I hadn’t been expecting that answer. “Admirable, but in this era anything that sells albums is a good thing.”

“I agree. So, I’ll do whatever I can to make things easy for you.”

“Indie!”

We both turned to the petite blonde who poked her head out of the curtain. Lilac-tinted fringe framed her heart-shaped face. The people already seated went wild. Faith Keystone—more well known as Keys—waved to the fans. “Hi guys!”

Indie gripped my raspberry jacket and hauled me after her. “Might as well toss you right into the deep end.”

Keys frowned. “Who’s that?”

Indiana ignored her. “What’s wrong?”

Keys huffed out a long breath that fluttered her choppy bangs. “Hunter’s gone.”

“Dammit.” Indie groaned and dragged her hat off. “I’m gonna kill that kid.”

“Does he do this often?” I asked.

“It’s not unheard of.”

I could tell it pained her to tell me that, but I was relieved she was being straight with me. Managers were used to cleaning up messes for bands. I knew this. I’d been in her position before.

A guy who had to be well over six feet—actually, heading for six and a half, if I had to guess—rose from a purple velvet couch. “Did you have to tattle to Indie?”

“Yes,” Indie answered for Keys. “What happened?”

The tall drink of lean muscles was Hudson Wyatt—the drummer for Hammered. He was wearing a tailored gray sport jacket over a union   Jack T-shirt, with crisp black jeans. He was the kind of handsome that cameras and women chased after, but his amber eyes were shrewd. Not just a pretty-boy. Good to know.

He looked me over and pursed his lips before focusing on Indie. “He just needed a minute.”

“How long ago did he need this minute?” I asked.

He twirled a Sharpie through his fingers. “And you are?”

Keys snatched the marker from him. “She’s a suit. Can’t you tell?”

He hooked his thumbs into his belt loops. “So, suit—what are you doing here? And why do you give a shit where Hunter is?”

I tipped my head back to meet his gaze. Show no weakness. “Because it’s my job.”

His eyes flicked to Indie. “That true?”

“Mr. Lewis has hired Ms. McManus—”

“Kennedy,” I said. There was no way I was going to get in close to this group by being Ms. McManus. Sometimes that worked—depending on the client. Some needed that business side, some needed to know I was on their side. I went with instinct here.

“All right, Kennedy is here to capitalize on the press we’re getting because of Hunter.”

Keys rolled her eyes. “It used to be fun to bust his balls about the magazine, but now he just snarls.”

That was good to know. Unfortunate, but good to know. “He may hate the attention, but you guys want to use the spotlight for the album. That’s what matters. Any way to get ahead of the rest is a good thing.”

“Tell him that,” Keys muttered.

I couldn’t tell if the jealousy thing was going to be an issue yet. Right now, they just seemed protective. That, I could work with.

“So, where is he?” Indie asked. She took off her hat and swatted Hudson with it. “Wyatt, come on.”

He sighed. “You know where he is.”

Indie’s shoulders sagged. “Great.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

Keys grinned. “Check the kitchen.”

“The what?” The Ace Hotel was one of the largest establishments in the city. It had multiple bars, restaurants, not to mention hotel rooms.