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The band was dressed up, made up, and scarfing down dinner before greeting the VIPs.
But Brodie’s “date” had yet to arrive.
Part of me wished the guy would be a no-show, even though I knew that was ridiculous. It would anger Greg, and the last thing I needed was that stress on top of everything else. I was having a hard enough time concentrating as it was.
My phone buzzed, and I mentally prepared myself to put out another fire.
Colm: I’m here.
Shit.
I’m heading out.
I made my way through the maze of narrow hallways at the back of the building until I reached the entrance. I nodded at our security folk at the door and glanced outside.
There was Colm, dressed up in a tattered black tuxedo, his face painted with an elaborate skull design, not that different from Brodie and the rest of the band. The only thing I recognized from his headshots was his copper hair. He had a bowler hat in one hand and a walking stick in the other, like a Halloween version of Fred Astaire.
I stepped outside and waved him over.
“Colm, come on in.”
“Hey, Ivan! Sorry, I’m late. I had to drive from Lockport, and the traffic was crazy.”
Now that he was standing near me, and despite the makeup, I noticed Colm’s perfect smile, big blue eyes, and chiseled profile.
He rushed over and shook my hand. “Is my costume okay?”
“You look great. And call me Van,” I replied as we headed back inside. “You hungry? The guys are having a bite.”
“I don’t know about food; I’m suddenly really nervous. I need some liquid courage for sure.”
“Just be yourself, and you’ll be fine. Trust me, the guys are down to earth. You’re gonna have a great time.”
“Good to hear.”
The rest of our walk was made in silence. Well, except for my phone constantly buzzing.
We’d set up the space behind the stage as the VIP room with catering and security. I motioned for Colm to enter.
Brodie and the rest of the guys were done eating and were now downing shots. The real party was finally getting started.
“Guys, this is Colm McDade. He’s Brodie’s date for the evening,” I announced.
I felt weird as fuck saying that.
Jeers and whistles rang out.
And I didn’t enjoy the appreciative looks sent Colm’s way.
Not that Brodie seemed to be giving the model the slow once over like Holls or Ronin, but still, a hot guy was a hot guy. Anyone would notice Colm, makeup, costume, or not.
“I’ll let you guys get acquainted. If you need me, I’ll be in the dressing room downstairs.”
Far away from Brodie and his “date.”
Maybe that was me being stupid because I knew this was all for show, but I was vulnerable now that I’d finally admitted how I was feeling about him. Exposed in a way I rarely was.
I needed my protective layer of work around me.
