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Present day—Southern Brick Studios, Nashville
Ilook up from my notes when Dad opens the door of the studio and I see Tristan and Jesse walking in after him. Fuck. The boys are busy recording when all three men stop behind me, watching the band finish the song.
“Honey,” Jesse says, taking me into his arms as I stand. “I’ve missed you.” He kisses my cheek.
“Missed you too, Jesse,” I tell him.
“How are my sons doing?” he asks, looking at Navarone and Sterling with a proud grin on his face. Rone is singing harmony with Sterling, Paulie, Denver, and George, while Wyatt plays piano.
“Hey, Squirrel,” Tristan says, hugging me.
My fingers move over the controls, adjusting the sound here and there, before I give Dad a look he ignores. Traitor.
“Guys, we have two visitors,” Dad says with a sly smile on his face, leaning into the microphone. The boys stop playing and their faces light up when Tristan waves, Jesse already walking into the live room of the studio.
“Dad!” Rone beams, setting his guitar down and running up to Jesse before taking him in a bear hug. He’s followed by Sterling and the guys.
Tristan shakes hands with all of them.
I have a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach that this is all going to bite me in the ass.
“Dad?” I hiss under my breath.
He shrugs and grins. “This little scheme was going to blow up in your face one way or the other. You should have told Navarone a long time ago that you asked Tristan to check out their showcase at The Basement,” he says, his voice serious. “It’s been two years. You’ve gotten away with it long enough.”
“Don’t you dare, Dad,” I warn.
He chuckles, sitting back in his chair to enjoy the show.
I watch the boys talking to Tristan and Jesse, laughing about something Tristan says. Okay, no worries. My fears slowly subside.
It all goes to shit when Tristan points his finger in my direction. All the guys turn and laugh; Wyatt holds up his thumb. Navarone’s eyes darken, anger radiates off him even through the glass separating us. He shakes his head, politely smiling at whatever Tristan is telling him while shooting daggers my way. He keeps looking at me, his forehead creasing.
Ducking out like the coward I am, I hide myself in my office and leave Dad, Jesse, and Tristan alone in the control room. Navarone catches me off guard when I’m answering a couple of emails and he storms in, electric with rage, before slamming the door behind him and leaning against it.
“What do you want?” I ask, my voice sounding harder than I mean it to.
He narrows his eyes, holding his head a little to the side. “To have this out.”
“We’re working,” I tell him.
“I know you have been avoiding me since Tristan walked in.”
“Then talk,” I say, sitting back, focusing on the posters from Axl’s tours.
Rone stands there for a moment rubbing an awkward hand through his hair, the loose strands falling in front of his eyes. He grabs hold of the edge of my desk, his knuckles turning white. He blows out hard through his nose before gazing into my eyes again.
“Allie, I ...” he begins. Sterling knocks on the window, opening the door of my office and we both look up from our staring contest.
“You got a minute?” Sterling asks, his eyes darting between the two of us. He takes a step back, probably picking up on the hostile vibe in the room.
“Yeah man, what’s up?” Navarone’s voice is hard when he turns to his brother.
“We’re heading out to dinner with all the guys,” Sterling says, hesitating a little. “You coming, Allie?” he asks, turning to me. His smile falls when he registers the angry scowl on Rone’s face.
“No that’s okay, have a boys’ night out. I’m going to stay here. I need to answer some emails.” I open my laptop, avoiding Rone’s dark eyes.
Navarone shakes his head and swears under his breath before leaving with Sterling down the hallway.
