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“He’s probably just some bellboy they forced into the position for the night.” I shrugged. “The kids likely won’t notice, though. All they’ll see is the suit and the beard.”
And I was correct, of course. Abigail and Chloe were first in line, and they never seemed to care that their Santa wasn’t a carbon copy of the ones on the TV specials they watched. Abigail went first, and Andi got an absolutely adorable picture of her on Santa’s lap. Chloe had an unexpected fit of shyness and tears when she was next to go up. I asked her if she wanted to skip her turn, and she said yes at first — until Lincoln, behind her, said he wanted to go. Suddenly, Chloe ran up and stood next to Santa, claiming him like he was her territory. She wouldn’t sit on his lap, but when Andi coached her and repeated Santa’s question about what she wanted for Christmas, she murmured an answer that he pretended to hear.
The other youngsters went after, one by one, and I took pictures of them all, as did the other moms. I was feeling a little nostalgic, to tell the truth. At eleven years old, Wyatt and Kendall had definitely aged out of the believing-in-Santa phase. That had been such a sweet, innocent time. I missed it. My mind went back to my conversation with Grey from last night, about whether we should think about having another child.
I wasn’t sure where the question had come from, exactly. I hadn’t planned to ask it. And then all of a sudden, it just burst from me.
And ever since, I hadn’t stopped thinking about it.
I hadn’t brought it up with Grey again, though. I wasn’t sure how to, or whether I even should. He didn’t seem exactly thrilled at the idea. And I couldn’t imagine trying to force him into it. For one thing, no one ever forced Greyson Stone to do anything he didn’t want to. And for another, I certainly didn’t want to have a child with a father who wasn’t one-hundred percent on board with it.
All of which meant, I had no idea whether the topic would ever come up again. And that made me suddenly, unbearably sad.
Once all the kids who wanted to had gone through the Santa line, Mr. Claus was invited to stick around and have some food and drink. He didn’t talk much, but he did grab a plate and fill it as high as if he really was the rotund Jolly Old Elf. When he had finished his massive plate, he disappeared, probably to go back to whatever his hotel job was.
Not too long after that, Carter, the rhythm guitarist for Hard Candy, let out a shrill whistle. “Hey, band! We need to leave for the sound check,” he called.
Kai, Emmy, and Ash, the other band members, moved toward the exit, along with the band’s tour manager and a few other people associated with them. Andi set down her drink and prepared to follow them. She gathered up her daughters and pulled them into a hug.
“Bye, babies! Mommy will see you at the show, okay?”
The girls gave her kisses and squeezed her tight. Andi straightened and turned to me.“There will be three limos downstairs to take all of you to the arena for the show later. Rudy will have someone come up and get you when it’s time to leave. Until then, enjoy the space. If anyone needs some time away or a nap or anything, our penthouse is P1. You can have someone take you up there.”
“Sounds great, babe. Break a leg!” I gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“Thanks!” Andi flashed me her beautiful smile. “One more show, and then it’s off the road for this girl!”
4
GREY
“Icould get pretty damn used to this scene, brother,” Levi said to Cal, picking up another mini-bottle of booze from the pile on the coffee table in front of him.
The party room — or whatever this luxury fucking suite was called — was a lot less crowded once Andi’s band and their people had left for the sound check and the concert. Most of the kids had gone into the room where the Santa guy’s throne was, leaving the adults out in the main room. I could hear the muffled shouts and screams of their playing through the half-open door. Periodically, some hotel employees would come into the suite and refresh the steam trays and platters of food, or bring in some more booze for the bar.
My Stone Kings brothers and I were sprawled out on oversized leather couches and chairs by the floor-to-ceiling windows, relaxing and shooting the shit.
“Shit, this is the fuckin’ life,” Patch, our medic, said. “Prez, the MC needs to up our game to come up with the kind of scratch to afford this rich-ass lifestyle. How we gonna do that?”
“Shit, we don’t gotta do anything,” Moose, our enforced, joked. “We just gotta keep Cal around. Or rather, Cal’s old lady. That way we live like kings without payin’ for any of it.”
“You’ve seen how we live at home,” Cal pointed out. “This shit ain’t normal reality for us. Besides, the part of Andi’s tour that you don’t see is that they spend most of their time on a goddamn tour bus. It’s a nice fuckin’ bus, don’t get me wrong. But still. I’ve done that shit the last few weeks, and it ain’t great. It’s just basically being cooped up in a fancy-ass cage. It’s boring as shit, no fresh air, and bad food. This is not a representation of the touring lifestyle, trust me.”
“Yeah, but still. I’m talking about when you’re not on tour,” Moose insisted. “Andi and them rub elbows with the rich and famous all the time. Hell, theyarethe rich and famous.”
“Speaking of rubbing elbows and other parts,” our newest member, Frankenstein, cut in. “That keyboard player chick? Jesus Christ, she is hot as shit. Emmy, is that her name?” He shook his head. “I would rub any fuckin’ thing she asked me to against her.”
“She is damn good-looking,” Trig agreed. “Not that I noticed, of course.”
Levi snorted. “Eva ain’t even here, ya pussy. You don’t have to cover your ass.”
The old ladies had all gone upstairs to look at Andi’s penthouse suite about half an hour ago, taking Zoe and Kendall with them.
“You think Emmy would slum it with a guy like me?” Frankenstein pressed.
“Depends how drunk you can get her,” I said.
“I dunno, maybe Frankie’s got a shot,” Cal frowned. “Some chicks like ugly dudes.”
