“He’s handsome,” Claudette noted. “And well-built. If he has a good voice, that could tip him over the edge into very attractive territory.”
Ronan had found Teller’s website quickly, which was how he learned the man was scheduled to perform from four to seven, Monday through Wednesday. He played later in the evening at another bar on Fridays and Saturdays. Teller listed his regular gigs as “residencies” and otherwise did a passable job of inflating his qualifications and performance history. He also had links to his music on streaming platforms and media store apps, which Ronan had used to hear a sample of his talent, which he’d say was pedestrian. He was a better guitarist than a singer.
“His woman’s attractive enough,” Jules said.
“Enough for what?” Claudette queried. “Non, don’t answer. I don’t want to know.”
Teller took a minute to give Gail a rather raunchy kiss before getting to work setting up for his set. Gail sauntered over to the bar and began chatting with the bartender.
“How long do you think we’ll be here?” Jules asked, smiling at the group of women, some of whom were eyeing him appreciatively.
“Well, I’d like to hear him play at least a song,” Claudette said, “since we’re here.”
A very tanned brunette in a yellow sundress entered the bar on short-heeled sandals, pushing her sunglasses atop her head as she stepped inside. She carried a large white tote bag, wore her hair in a sleek bob, and looked overall too classy to patronize a sleezy joint like the one they were in.
She looked immediately at the stage and Teller, who was crouching to set out a basket with a sign that read, “Tips.”
“Excuse me,” she said, walking up to the musician. “You wouldn’t happen to be Graham Teller, would you?”
Teller looked up and flashed a big, cocky smile. “Who’s asking?”
“I’m meeting a friend of mine at a bar that she says has a great singer named—you guessed it, Graham Teller.” She returned his grin. “And I’m just not sure I’m in the right place.”
“You found the place,” he told her with a roguish wink. “And the singer.”
“Oh, that’s great!” She thrust her hand into the tote bag on her shoulder and withdrew a large envelope covered in pink hearts. She handed it to him, and when he took it from her, she said, “You’ve been served.”
She was out the door as quickly as she’d walked in.
Jules huffed out a laugh and jumped to his feet. “I like her,” he pronounced, and quickly left the bar in pursuit of her.
“Ah, mesye!” Claudette muttered, looking at Ronan. “Did you know this was going to happen?”
He shook his head without taking his eyes off Teller. When he felt Claudette’s gaze remain trained on his face, he glanced at her. “Non,” he reiterated.
Frowning at the envelope, Teller stood and opened it, pulling out a sheaf of papers stapled together. As he read, his expression turned into a scowl. “What the fuck is this?”
“I don’t like this,” Claudette murmured, leaning toward Ronan.
Gail returned from the bar with two lowball glasses filled with a clear liquid and blocks of ice. “What’s that, baby?”
“It’s…” His eyes darted back and forth as he read. “It’s from Gideon Cross. It says, ‘notice of breach.’ Whatever the fuck that means.”
Ronan whistled to himself. With everything Cross had to manage at once, that something so relatively small hadn’t escaped his attention was, frankly, very impressive. Ronanwas reminded that hischer’s brother was not a man to be underestimated or trifled with.
Gail thrust one of the glasses toward him. “Here, take your drink and let me see that.”
Ignoring her, Teller kept reading. “It says that going to the Vidal Hotel voided the agreement. What the hell? I don’t remember anything like that.”
“Give it here,” she said again.
“And I can’t discuss it publicly, because if I do,Iowehimmoney!”
She sighed heavily. “Take a drink. Relax.”
“Relax?” Teller snapped, crushing the papers in his fist. “Vidal isn’t going to distribute my demos! I told you it was a stupid idea to go to the hotel! You wouldn’t fucking listen. You just had to see if you could get Ireland to show up, and now the whole idiotic plan was a total waste!”
Tapping her foot, Gail flashed him a contradictory bright smile. “It was a brilliant plan. It worked, didn’t it? And I told you to stay home, babe, but you insisted on coming along.”
