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“Reed.”
I nod as I take a Sharpie to the poster he hands me next.
Reed,
Never stop rocking.
Chaser Adams.
Yeah, it’s a little clichéd but I haven’t come up with anything better yet.
Reed’s hyper-speed mouth goes on lock down when his gaze lands on Mallory.
“Would you like me to sign one?” Mallory taps the ‘Candy Jar’ posters. His jaw drops and he slowly nods, tongue wagging in the breeze.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. “You’re so pretty. I, wow. You’re so beautiful,” he keeps repeating, his favorite guitar player completely forgotten.
Sweeter than candy, Mallory smiles and thanks him. She taps her Sharpie against the poster for a few beats before writing,
Reed,
Always follow your dreams.
Love,
Mallory
Clearly Mallory’s better at this than I am. Pale-faced and slack-jawed, he stares at the message for a few seconds. Poor kid’s gonna faint. Finally, a guy I’m assuming is his father nudges him down the line.
Mallory can’t stop grinning. “He was so adorable,” she whispers.
“He’d probably die of embarrassment if he heard you say that.”
“Aw, hey, man. Will you sign this?” Someone tosses a piece of paper in front of me. I glance up and instantly peg the meathead in front of us for a douche. We get these types a lot. Guys itching to pick a fight. Whether it’s jealousy, small dick syndrome, or pure assholery, I’ve never figured out. It’s better not to engage.
“Sure,” I answer in a bland tone. “How you doin’?”
He shrugs. “Cool.” His gaze slides to Mallory and I brace myself. While I don’t give a fuck if he’s rude to me, disrespecting my girl is a line he better not cross.
“Mallory Dove. I’d kill to slide my hand in your candy jar.” He slowly winks as if he just uttered the most brilliant come-on ever.
Mallory flicks an indifferent glance at him.
“Take ya a while to come up with that one?” I ask, slipping an arm around Mallory’s shoulders.
He shrugs. “It’s a lame fuckin’ song but she was hot in the video.”
“Thanks for stoppin’ by.” I sweep my arm in front of me in a move-it-along gesture and he finally shuffles away.
Mallory scrunches her nose at his back. “What a jerk,” she whispers to me.
“We get guys like that all the time.”
She glares down the table at him where he’s busy hassling Alvin. Good luck to him. Alvin has even less patience than I do for that bullshit.
“He’s probably a failed musician,” she says under her breath.
“Maybe. Best not to give them the reaction they’re seeking. It annoys them more if they can’t get a rise out of you.”
“Sure. Otherwise, you hand him a great story to tell for the rest of his life. ‘This one time, Chaser Adams punched me.’”
I shake with laughter and squeeze her closer. “Pretty much.”
Unfortunately, he’s not our last asshole of the day. No, a much bigger dickweed steps up to us next. In his preppy polo shirt, neatly tucked into a pair of pleated pants, he sticks out like a preacher at an orgy.
“Vasily. Good to see ya, buddy.” I flash a big ol’ grin at him. “Got something for me to autograph?”
Ignoring me, he glances down at Mallory. “You are joking, right?” He thrusts his hand in my direction. “This is what you chose?”
I stand and place my hands on the table, leaning in between him and Mallory. “Don’t look at her. You have something to say, say it to me. Those were the terms of our arrangement, right?” I say in a lower voice, reminding him Mallory’s untouchable and under my club’s protection.
His ice-cold eyes meet mine and he sneers. “She would have been better off with me.”
“I doubt that. Now, unless there’s business you need me to bring back to my club, or you want my autograph, it’s time for you to leave.”
He hesitates, then pulls something out of his pocket. His asshole attitude vanishes. “Anatoly’s lawyer is working on the appeal. He wants to speak with Mallory but no one knew how to reach her.” He hands me the card. “We want to get him home as soon as possible.” He stares at me as if he has more to say, then seems to realize we’re in a record store full of people and maybe it’s not the best place to discuss family business.
“I’ll make sure she calls him.” I hand Mallory the card and watch her tuck it away in her purse.
“Of course, I’ll call,” she promises.
She stands, pressing herself against my side and I slide an arm around her waist.
“Is he okay?” she asks him in a low voice.
Vasily’s gaze slides over Mallory’s body a little too long for my taste before answering. “You know your father. He is…making friends.”
“I expect nothing less.”
While I have plenty of reasons to dislike Vasily, that’s not the reason I want to put an end to this reunion. The last thing Mallory needs is word spreading that her mobster father’s in prison. The tabloids salivated over a non-existent love triangle when Andrew got shot. If they get wind of a scandal this juicy, they’ll be wolves gnawing on a goat.
Vasily stares down at the table as if noticing the promo material for the first time. He taps one of the ‘Candy Jar’ posters with a perfectly manicured finger. Jesus, is that clear nail polish?
“I cannot believe this is you.” It’s definitely not a compliment coming from his mouth.
Ignoring his disapproving tone, Mallory flashes her camera-ready smile. “Me either.”
“Your father will not approve.”
She shrugs. “He’ll get over it.”
He keeps staring at her as if he’s meeting Mallory for the first time. And I guess in a way he is. It doesn’t seem like anyone in her life ever bothered to get to know the real Mallory.
Anyone until me.
Chapter Twelve
Mallory
“I can’t believe he had the nerve to show up there!” I stare out our hotel room window after hanging up with my father’s attorney.
“What’d the lawyer say?” Chaser asks.
“Not much. I don’t know what he thought I could tell him that would be helpful.” I tap my lip, thinking over the conversation and Vasily’s appearance. “Maybe he used it as an excuse to come see us?”
“Let us know we were on his turf?”
“Yes.”
Chaser shrugs. “He left peacefully and as long as we don’t see his ugly face again, I really don’t care.” He seems to reconsider the day’s events. “I don’t want you out alone while we’re down here, though. You’re with me anytime we’re off the bus or outside. At the show, stick with Robbie, Alvin, or…” he pauses, his face twi
sting in annoyance, “…I hate saying it, Andrew. He’s a pain in the ass but if someone tried to mess with you, he’d fuck them up.”
“You think so?”
“I do.”
I slide over and wrap my arms around his middle, leaning against him. “I don’t plan to let you out of my sight, so it won’t be a problem.”
“Good.” He bends down and kisses the tip of my nose. “Exactly how I like it.”
“You really didn’t mind having me there today?”
“Nope. Felt good having you by my side.”
He says it without hesitation and that finally erases my doubts about the afternoon. Even the girl who so obviously showed up to bang my boyfriend is forgotten. “Did your father say when he’s arriving?”
“Early tomorrow afternoon. Half the club’s coming with him. Thom gave me all sorts of shit about finding backstage passes for everyone.”
I roll my eyes. “If they can magically come up with passes for groupies every night, he can find enough for family members.”
“That’s basically what I told him.”
Someone pounds against our hotel door. Intuition says it’s Andrew. I sigh as Chaser opens the door. I don’t have the energy for his crazy antics tonight.
“She left me. She really left and went home.”
“I’m sorry.” Chaser pats Andrew’s shoulder as he barrels into our room.
“Did you take her to the airport?” Andrew asks.
“No, Jacob did.”
“Did he fuck her?” Andrew’s eyes widen. “Be honest.”
Chaser slams the door shut. “I didn’t ask to sniff his dick. Settle down.”
“Sorry.” He glances up and finally seems to notice I’m in the room. “Hey, Mallory. I bet she told you all about it, didn’t she?”
“Just the highlights.” Please let my evasive answer be enough to escape this conversation.
“I’m such a stupid asshole,” he moans.
“Yeah,” I agree.
“Hey.” Chaser taps Andrew’s chest with the back of his hand. “Listen up. I need you to do me a favor tomorrow.”
