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“You need to stay here, Van. Eat, have a drink with us,” Brodie insisted after he greeted Colm with a handshake.
I shook my head. “I’ve got guests and then reporters to corral.”
Brodie gently gripped my arm and pulled me in close to him.
Touching me right now was not a good idea. I needed all my brain cells focused on the job.
“Van—”
“Dee, do your thing and get to know Colm. Sell the date to the press.”
The rest of the guys were chatting up Colm and not paying us any attention, so I placed my hand over Brodie’s.
“I’ll see you on stage in two hours. If I don’t get stage fright,” I quipped.
“I can’t fucking wait,” Brodie replied and squeezed my fingers.
Someone in the room laughed, and I looked over. Holloway’s gaze locked on me and Brodie, his eyes comically wide.
Shit.
I pulled my hand back and headed for the exit.
Regan was standing just outside the door, tapping away on her phone.
“The VIPs are starting to arrive. Once they pass the security check, do you want me to hold them there, or can we let them in the room?”
“Send them on back.”
I waited in the hallway as guests started to file in. I greeted each one and had a quick look inside the room again to make sure the guys did the same. Soon, the room swelled to just over fifty people. It was small compared to our stadium tours when we had VIP groups of five hundred.
One of the last VIPs to arrive was the man I recognized from the party last night—the one who’d offered his card to Brodie.
I had a mind to kick him out of the building for no reason other than I was jealous as hell.
Instead, I shoved my caveman ideas away and put on my practiced smile. I greeted him as warmly as everyone else. Once he was inside, I took some satisfaction in watching the man’s face fall as Brodie introduced him to Colm.
Maybe this fake date thing wasn’t so bad after all.
I prepped my notes for the post-concert interviews, and then I wandered over to the stage to make sure everything was set as it should be.
Earlier mishaps were now under control.
I headed back to the VIP room and noticed the guys from Killmine had arrived. They were dressed up as characters from the Wizard of Oz, with Nate as Dorothy, right down to the pigtails and the ruby slippers. And judging by how they were joking and laughing with Brodie and the rest of the group, as well as the VIPs, they were having a great time.
Some bands hated the promo stuff, but it was part of the biz. If you wanted to go big, you had to do it.
Bandit was always on the lookout for the next hot thing, and Greg wanted my opinion on the group. Based on what I saw of their previous performances, they had the makings of a band that could go far in this business. Greg was going to offer them a contract and the opportunity to open for Wayward Lane’s next world tour. It was a good deal and one I hoped they would take.
“Van!” Nate yelled out and worked his way through the crowd to greet me.
“Hey Nate, cool costume.”
He laughed. “Thanks, but I didn’t think through the shoes. These heels are fucking killing me already.”
“The price of beauty and fame. You ready?”
“Ready to puke my guts out. Never been so nervous to perform in my life,” he replied and took another gulp of his drink. “You got a moment to talk?”
