Page 4 of Dirty Fantasy

“Two minutes,” someone said with a knock on the door.

“She’s ready,” Mick called.

Bill opened the door. “Let’s go, Tan.”

Tana lifted her chin, and Mick grinned at her.

“You’ve got this, girl.”

“Damn right I do. Let’s do this.”

By the time Tana hit the stage, she was half in love with Mick Vines for the kindness he’d shown her. That confidence carried her all the way through the opening chords and into the groove she needed and loved when she was performing. She was on fire.

She wasn’t about to let him down. Not if he was watching. She gave her set everything she had. And by the end of it, with the crowd cheering as she waved goodbye, she was thanking God that Mick Vines had noticed her.

And later, we’re getting a drink because he wants to know more about me.

As she walked offstage, she saw him leaning against some equipment.

“Nailed it, girl. Fucking awesome set. Got me right here.” He slapped his T-shirt-covered chest where it stretched over his pecs.

“Mick, tell Janelle I get to blow you tonight,” a voice came from a thin blonde strolling up to him. “She got to last night.”

Tana’s walk on cloud nine immediately ended as a blonde and a brunette shoved one another to get closer to Mick.

“Ladies, you know Mick can handle you both,” said a man beyond the equipment. “Just no fighting, or you’re banned from backstage.”

Mick didn’t even seem to notice them.

Tana shook her head with a humorless laugh. Right. Like he really cares about getting to know me when he has millions of women fighting to blow him.

“Thanks, Mr. Vines,” Tana said. “Have a great show. I appreciate this opportunity. I hope I did you right.”

His head tilted to the side to watch her as she marched by him.

When she made it back to her dressing room, she collapsed into her makeup chair.

Thank you, God. I dodged a bullet there.

The last thing she needed was to mix business and anything else. Besides, she had Ronnie at home, and that was enough for her.

How could she have forgotten his reputation? Every other week, there was another scandal about Mick Vines and his multitude of women on the front page of the supermarket tabloids.

The last thing I need is to get mixed up with him.

A knock came on the door to her dressing room.

“Come on in,” Tana called.

His giant frame filled the doorway, and Tana sat up straight as a jolt of surprise coursed through her.

“What are you doing here?”

“Told you, Mr. Vines was my daddy. I ain’t no mister to you, girl.”

“What?” Tana was so confused.

“You call me Mr. Vines again, and I’m gonna have to show you I’m just Mick to you.”