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She shook her head. “Look, I did you another favor, letting you see how everyone reacts to the song we wrote. You got to sing for a crowd. Be happy with that.”
“You get to play whenever you want.” The bitterness dimmed his excitement.
“I own the bar,” she reminded him.
He perked up. “Which means you say who gets on stage.”
“Exactly. I let you have a turn. Now the bandI’m payingwill finish out their set before closing.”
The enthusiastic vibe disappeared under a wave of anger she could feel coming off him. “You really get off on giving just a little, then shutting me down.”
Anger pressed her lips tight, then she let it out. “It’s no small thing to get to play for a packed bar when you’re a no-name artist to them. It’s also no small thing for me to rearrange my schedule today to write with you. But if you don’t appreciate those things, there’s the door.” She pointed to the entrance wherethe bouncer kept watch on who was coming in and anyone who needed to go out.
He backed off, but she knew he only masked the anger simmering inside him. “I guess I owe you a thank-you.”
Yet he didn’t actually thank her. She let it go, because what was the point with him. “Enjoy the rest of your night.” She walked away and headed for the one place he couldn’t follow her. The restroom had a line, so she backtracked to the kitchen, out the back door, and up to her place.
When she reached the landing and went for the doorknob, she stopped, her fingertips an inch from the busted handle and lock. The frame had some splintered wood, and the door stood open about six inches.
Motherfucker.
She pushed the door open wide and stared into the dark interior making out little at the back of her place, but seeing the disarray and destruction littering the floor in front of her.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
One good thing about owning a bar, she had the cops on speed dial.
“Hey, Lyric. Trouble at the bar?” Officer Bowers always sounded ready to help. He was a good cop and a nice guy, not one of those people who’d gotten jaded by dealing with the worst in society day after day. He cared.
“Not the bar, but my place upstairs. Someone broke in and wrecked everything. Mind coming and taking a look? I’ll explain more when you get here. And if you don’t mind coming around the back, instead of through the bar, I’d appreciate it.”
“You don’t want me to spoil everyone’s good time.”
No, she didn’t. “I appreciate the understanding.”
“On my way. Be there in a few, unless I get an emergency call.”
“Thanks, Officer Bowers.” She hung up and ran downstairs and back into the bar.
She found Aria in the back office. “Hey. I thought you were going to play with the band? Where’d you go?”
“Upstairs to pee. Someone broke in and trashed my place.”
Aria’s gaze sharpened. “Rick?”
She shrugged. “Don’t know. But that’s my guess.” Especially after he’d left her those text messages last night. Because she’d showered and changed at the ranch this morning, then worked with Rick and in the kitchen, she hadn’t been up to her place all day. “Bowers is on his way to check it out. I don’t want to go inside until he gets here. Can I borrow a jacket? It’s frickin’ cold out.”
Aria notched her chin toward the jacket hanging on the peg on the wall by the door. “Let me know what he finds.”
“Everything broken and trashed.”
Aria frowned. “It’s that bad?”
“Someone is really pissed at me.”
“Maybe they trashed the place to cover up what they stole? At least until you inventory?”
“But if they were looking for quick cash, why not wait until the end of the night and rob the bar? There’s a lot more money in here than upstairs.”
