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48
ELLE
Shaking slightly, I come through the staff door and back onto the main floor. My parents saw me perform for the first time and, despite the emotional cocktail in my head of two parts anger and one part soul-shattering hurt, my damn heart can’t help but hope that they are proud. I’m stopped on my way across the bar by a multitude of people asking for photos, wanting to congratulate me on a great set, and generally chat.
I can feel my parents’ eyes on me as I get nearer the table. I didn’t change back into my jeans and jumper that I arrived in. I normally keep my stage clothes on for my obligatory meet and greet with the clientele, but this outfit with my midriff showing will annoy my parents, and I’m okay with that right now. I make a point of not going straight to their table where they sit with Lance. First, I go to the bar and wrap myself around Brent, plastering my front to his and snaking my arm around his neck. He presses me close with one hand squeezing my butt and the other cradling the back of my head, kissing me like we’re not in a room full of people.
“Princess,” he greets me when we both pull away panting.
“Hey, big guy.”
“You are fucking sexy when you sing,” he growls, tightening his grip on my arse cheek. We’re in front of where my parents sit, and I know they can see him touching me and hopefully the look of total adoration he’s giving me.
“Thanks,” I smirk at him. “Did you know about that?” I jerk my head back to indicate the table behind us.
“Not a fucking clue.”
“How about you?” I turn to Hayden, still held firm in Brent’s arms.
“Oh, you remembered I’m here, have you?” He teases me with a quirked brow and an amused smile on his lips. I smile at him and lean over to kiss him too. He seems completelyunbothered that his friend shows no intent on letting me go and he brushes his tongue against my lips. He tastes of rum and Hayden, one of my favourite mixers.
“Stop distracting me with your magic tongue, Pullman.” I go for a stern tone but it comes out breathy.
His smug grin should be illegal. “I have plenty of ways I can distract you with my magic tongue, baby.”
Hell yes. Focus, Elle. “Did you know Lance was bringing my parents here?”
He glances over to the table quickly and shakes his head. “Nope, this is all him. Likely he didn’t want to drag us into his schemes in case he blew a fuse and ended up killing your dad. Needed us to have deniability so we could look after you if he got jail time.” He shrugs and I gape. Throwing his head back on a snort, he pulls me from Brent to wrap his own arms around me. “I’m kidding, baby. Lance was pretty pissed at your dad for making you cry, but I’m ninety-three percent sure he wouldn’t kill him.” He winks at me.
“What’s the other seven percent?”
“He’s still a gangster, Elle. They can be highly unpredictable.”
Brent chuckles at our conversation and I narrow my eyes at both of them. “Well, best go face the music then,” I sigh. With another quick peck to each of their mouths, I turn around, heading over to the table that seats my past and one third of my future.
My dad stands as I approach, manners and decorum ingrained into him as strongly as his stiff upper lip. “Eleanor.”
“Byron,” I return with a bored inflection. I bend to gently kiss Lance on the lips.
“You were amazing tonight,” he murmurs against me, making my mouth stretch into a genuine smile.
“Thank you,” I tell him.
“Eleanor,” my mother says quietly, I barely hear her over the music that has faded to background noise until the DJ starts his next set. When I turn to face her with a neutral expression, she gives me a pained smile. “Can we talk?”
“Sure,” I say, slumping down in the chair next to Lance. He stretches his arm along the back of my chair and buries his face in my neck on the pretence of kissing me there.
“Do you want me to leave?” He asks against my skin, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine and goosebumps to the surface of my skin.
I turn to capture his lips with mine. “Never.”
He smiles and sits back in his chair, whiskey in hand, and nods to my parents as a signal to continue. My father stares at him for several moments, probably waiting for him to give us some privacy but when he realises that’s not going to happen, he doesn’t argue as I expect. Instead, he takes a deep breath and turns his hard stare to me.
“You were wonderful up there, Eleanor.”
Come again?I blink at my father, waiting for the punchline. It doesn’t come. I turn to Lance with a suspicious eye. “What did you do to my parents? Did you threaten him or something?”
He laughs and takes a sip of his whiskey but doesn’t answer.
