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I’d ordered a car service to pick Devyn up for rehearsal today because we didn’t want the paparazzi to get her license plate number and go from there. They could be relentless when they smelled fresh meat, and after this morning’s official announcement, the parking lot was jam-packed with reporters. Normally, I loved the press and nothing made me happier than being the center of attention.
Not today.
Today I wanted to get inside and make sure Devyn was handling everything okay. And that our interlude last night hadn’t freaked her out. If I’d scared her away, the rest of the band would never forgive me.
“Hey.” I nodded at Z and Tommy, who were doing something on their phones. “Devyn here yet?”
Z shook his head. “Not yet, no. And Kel’s running late. Something about his alarm not going off.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, right.”
“We’ve got three journalists coming at one,” Z said. “Dorian ordered lunch so we can feed them, talk to them, and then let them hear a few songs before we kick them out.”
“The parking lot is already a zoo,” Tommy said. “We called Westfield & Curruthers for some extra security today. They’re sending Grim with a team.”
I nodded. We used Westfield & Carruthers whenever we needed extra back-up. We had a security team on the payroll for when we toured, but they had other gigs when we were home, and I’d known Chains, the owner of Westfield & Carruthers, for a long time.
My phone buzzed and I saw Devyn was texting me.
DEVYN: Help. What do I do? We just pulled up and a bunch of reporters are surrounding the car.
KINGSTON: Hang tight.
I turned to Tommy and Z. “Devyn’s here and they’ve already spotted her. The car’s surrounded.”
“Shit.” Z shook his head. “Let me get Grim on it.”
Grim was a big, burly retired Marine who kicked ass and took names. I loved when he worked with us and wished I could make him head of security on tour. While we could afford him individually for situations like this, the amount the band would have to pay him to bring him on permanently wasn’t cost-effective. He was that good and always in demand, according to Chains.
“I’ll take care of Devyn,” Grim called as he walked toward the door. “I’ve got guys by both the front door and the emergency exit out back, so we’ll have this place sealed up tight as soon as everyone is here.”
I nodded. “Thanks, Grim.”
“How was she last night?” Tommy asked after a moment. “Did you guys hang out after you got to your place?”
Christ, could they tell I had thing for her or was this a simple question of genuine curiosity?
“She was fine,” I replied smoothly. “A little worried about whether or not she’s going to turn into some kind of gimmick as the only woman in the band, but otherwise, she wasn’t upset or anything. More worried about Greatty than anything else.”
“She needs that security system put in sooner rather than later.”
I nodded. “I made a call this morning and set it up for Monday. I’m going to go ahead and pay for it so she doesn’t have to worry about that part of it.”
Z eyed me. “You’re paying for it personally?”
I hesitated, frowning. “Yeah. Why?”
He shrugged. “This is band business. Isn’t it?”
“Yes and no. Technically, it is, but Devyn isn’t in a position to put money up for this kind of stuff, and we’re talking about an eighty-one-year-old woman who’s going to be alone for two months while we tour. And, I mean, come on—it’s not like I can’t afford it.”
Z narrowed his eyes. “You better not be thinking what I think you’re thinking.”
I lifted my hands, palms up, and scowled. “What are you talking about? I didn’t even understand that sentence.”
“Don’t play coy, Knight.” Z using my last name was the equivalent of someone’s mom using their middle name. “She’s not a groupie, and if word gets out you’re bangin’ the new bass player, it’s going to be a shit show.”
“I’m not bangin’ anybody!” I snapped.
