Always (7 page)

Ash nodded. “Okay.” And then a beat later, “Why should I come?”

“I’m thinking they should open for us on the tour.”

Ash paused and then whistled through his teeth. “You’re serious about them.”

“Not the band, really,” Dillon waved a dismissive hand in the air. “The band is boring. It’s Justine. She’s the talent there.”

“Justine,” Ash rolled her name around on his tongue, considering, and Dillon wanted to smack that half-formed leer right off his face. He punched Ash’s arm and Ash laughed, curling away and taking a swig off his bottle.

“Ash… I’m serious. It’s not about that. Not for me and not for you, either. I just want you to come watch the band again and see what you think. I saw them the other night and she rocked. But it’s your decision, too.”

“Of course I’ll come, but Dillon, I trust you. There’s nobody I trust more than you.”

Dillon was humbled by Ash’s blind faith in him, faith he felt he didn’t always earn. “Just come see them with me tomorrow and then tell me that.”

Hooking her arm through David’s, Justine tugged him towards the green room door.

“Come on, Grumpy, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Who?” David asked as she propelled him down the hallway towards the front of the club.

Behind them, Paolo snickered. “Justine’s new boyfriend.”

“What?” David asked, freezing in place. “Who?’

“What are you, Paolo,
nine
? Just come on. It’s important for the band, okay?”

David scowled but he didn’t protest further as she led them through the packed house back towards the bar. Like the first time they’d come, she spotted Ash’s blond hair first, a full head taller than anyone. Her eyes darted to his right and found Dillon just where she expected him.

Also just where she expected them to be were two girls chatting them up.

“Figures,” David muttered.

“What?”

“You really want to join their little harem?”

“As if I’d ever,” Justine growled. She tilted her chin up and stiffened her spine, employing all five feet nine inches plus three more inches of high heels to intimidate the groupies. When she sailed up, still dragging a surly David at her side, both girls threw her bitchy back-off glares. She ignored them, turning her most dazzling smile first on Ash, then on Dillon.

“Hi boys. Thanks for coming tonight.”

Ash took a swaggering step forward into her personal space and reached for her free hand.

“Hey, pretty girl. You kicked ass up there.” He stroked a thumb across the back of her hand, one of his smooth moves that made Justine laugh. He was just so blatant with his deadly Lothario act. She couldn’t believe it worked on the barflies, but judging from the glares they were still shooting her, it did.

Dillon gave Ash a shove, and although she hadn’t spent much time with the two of them together, she felt like she could read that shove. It meant “Back off and behave”. Ash seemed to get it, too, backing up a step and raising his hands in defense.

“You were great, Justine,” Dillon said. The smile she turned on him was less calculated, less dazzling, and a thousand times more genuine than the one she’d given Ash. She could feel it, and she knew she needed to get it under control, but she just couldn’t help it. She heard David let out a bored sigh.

David cleared his throat and she remembered herself. “Dillon, Ash, I don’t think you guys met the rest of the band on New Year’s Eve. This is David, Eddie and—” she glanced around behind herself. “Where’s Paolo?”

“He met some girl,” Eddie offered.

The boys all shook hands and exchanged greetings. “Solid performance tonight,” Dillon told David as he shook his hand. To her relief, David left off his surly attitude to return a polite response, even if it was a long way from friendly. As they started exchanging small talk about the set, the venue and the crowd, the girls seemed to sense they were now shut out of the conversation. With one last bitter glance at Justine, they slid away down the bar in search of more promising prospects.

“I seem to have scared off your fan club,” Justine observed.

Ash threw an absent glance over his shoulder. “Oh, them? Nothing special. Plenty more where they came from.”

“Hmmm,” she hummed, “I’ll just
bet
. As thick as fleas on a dog. Probably just about as smart, too.”

Ash let out a bark of laughter. “You’re a sharp one, aren’t you?”

She shrugged. “I’m not interested in playing dumb to get the boys to like me.”

Ash gave her a long, appraising stare, as if she was finally coming into focus in his brain. “I get it,” he murmured. Then he glanced at Dillon. “You were right.”

Puzzled, she looked back and forth between them. “Right about what?”

“Nothing,” Ash said, turning on his charming smile again. “Your talent. Dillon was right about your talent, that’s all. And you know Dillon is never wrong.”

They both turned to look at him, but his attention was once more on David. “No, I bet he never is,” she murmured.

“Dillon saved my life, you know.”

“Did he? That sounds like an interesting story.”

“It is. But not for tonight. Tonight’s for us all to get to know each other. If Dillon has his way, we’ll be spending a lot more time together from here on out.”

Justine blinked at Ash, trying to figure out what he was alluding to. “And does Dillon always get his way?”

“He does, unless I mess it up for him.”

“Do you do that a lot?”

Ash laughed and shook his head, “All the time. C’mon, Justine, let me buy you a drink. You and I are about to become new best friends.”

“We are, huh?”

Ash raised a hand to flag the bartender. “We’d better become friends, don’t you think? After all, we share him now.” He tipped his chin in Dillon’s direction and she turned to look. As she did, Dillon glanced over and smiled at the two of them. And Justine knew Ash was right. Whatever this was with Dillon, he was her friend, they were connected. Not as long as he and Ash, and not as deeply, but it was certainly something. Regardless, she was staying put in his life as long as he’d let her.

“Yes, I guess we do share him now.”

Mark Bennett sighed and pressed his fingertips into his eye sockets. It was supposed to be a quick meeting, just cleaning up some tour details with the label’s new darlings. He should have known nothing was ever easy with these guys.

“Are you crazy? They’re not even signed.” As soon as he’d come in, Dillon had slapped a CD of some no-name band into his hand and said he’d found the band that would open for Outlaw Rovers on the tour.

“So they’ll be cheap. You guys should like that, right?”

“Dillon,” he sighed. “I appreciate that you’re a big fan or whatever, but this is not how it’s done. We’ll cull a roster of potential acts and discuss the options with you—”

“Or we can stop wasting everyone’s time and offer it to Failsafe.”

Dillon crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at Mark, who he’d never really liked. The guy was the worst kind of corporate shill, glossed over with a thin sheen of musical respectability. There wasn’t a single genuine thing about the guy.

“No one even knows who they are!” Mark snapped.

“They should! Trust me, the audience will thank us when they hear Justine sing.”

“With all due respect, that’s not your call to make. We have acts in mind, bands we’re cultivating and would like to advance in the right circumstances. We’ll be looking to position one of those acts with you on the road. Not some untried local band no one’s ever heard of.”

Dillon let out a huff of frustration and spun away, stalking across the green room. Now he
knew
he hated Mark. Who the fuck used expressions like “with all due respect” when they were talking about rock? He liked Jon Verlaine, their Artists and Repertoire man at Nightfall. They’d been wined and dined by a line of slick A&R guys from all the major labels, but Jon was the first one to talk about music like a musician, the first one who seemed to really get what they were trying to do. Jon didn’t take them to dinner at the hottest new French restaurant, he took them to an underground club to hear the hottest new indie band. That won over Dillon and they’d signed with Nightfall. But so far, every other person he’d met there had been a complete asshole, right up to Mark Bennett.

Dillon thought he had it all laid out. He was sure once he played the CD, once they heard Justine sing, there’d be no argument. He’d forgotten this world didn’t work that way. There were corporate plans in place that had nothing to do with talent or even what the band wanted. He gritted his teeth at having to take orders from a weasel like Mark.

“So, can I assume this issue is resolved?” Mark said after a moment.

JD cleared his throat and Rocky reached up to rub the back of his neck, neither one willing to wade into the dispute.

“Not quite.” Ash unfolded himself from the armchair in the corner. He’d been laying back, seeming to barely pay attention to the argument happening over his head. Now he straightened up to his full height and shook back his hair. His chin was up and his eyes were sharp, focused only on Mark. Even Dillon was a little intimidated and he’d known Ash all his life. Mark certainly sat up straighter. Ash pointed a finger at the CD that Mark still held, although he seemed to have forgotten it. “That’s the band opening for us,” he said.

“Now, Ash—”

“No, Mark. You’re not understanding me. That’s the band. And do you know why?” Ash paused for dramatic effect, but Mark was too intimidated to say anything. “Because Dillon here has better taste in music in his pinkie fingernail than you do in your entire worthless brain. So if he says this is the band, do you know what you say?” Another pause, during which Mark didn’t make a sound. “You say thank you, because I can guarantee you’d never stumble on that kind of musical revelation on your own. Are we clear?”

Mark was silent for another moment, and then he cleared his throat. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“No, what you’ll do is make sure they’re booked. Now are we clear?”

Mark sighed. “Ash—”

“Are we clear?”
Ash’s voice, the bombastic low register he only unleashed on stage, nearly shook the framed posters on the wall.

“Yeah, we’re clear. The label won’t be happy. You should know that.”

“The label can kiss my ass.” Ash said, turning away dismissively.

Mark ran a hand through his hair, then shoved to his feet and stormed out of the room.

Rocky was the first one to speak into the silence. “The label can kiss my ass, Ash?”

“Well, they can!” he shouted. “And that asshole can get on his knees and pucker up first.”

Rocky raised his eyebrows. “True, he is a dick.”

“Here’s to sticking it to the assholes,” JD said, raising his beer in a toast. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Dillon.”

Dillon opened his mouth, but Ash cut him off. “He does. Dillon always knows. And he’s always right.”

Dillon smiled. “Thanks, Ash. Thanks for going to bat for me.”

“Anything for you, my brother.”

That was why. No matter how much shit Ash dragged him into, or how many times he had to bail him out of trouble, when it mattered, Ash would always go to the mat for him. And was always there for Ash, too. As long as they had each other’s backs, they could handle anything this new world threw at them.

“Justine?”

“Hey, Dillon.” Justine pinned the phone under her cheek as she turned back to the mirror, finishing her mascara. Next to her reflection, she could see David look up from his phone, his expression dark and unreadable.

“You playing tonight?”

“In just a few minutes. What’s up?”

“Look, you’re going to get the call from management tomorrow, but I wanted to give you the news first.”

She scowled at herself in confusion. “What news?”

“We want you guys to open for us on the tour.”

She made a little choked sound and then swallowed to clear her throat. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, dead serious.”

She paused before she asked the next question, not wanting to, but needing to. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have made them do it if I wasn’t.”

Leaning forward on her elbow, she pressed her fingers against her forehead and lowered her head, blocking David and the boys out of her peripheral vision. “It’s just… I know you’re not exactly… that you don’t necessarily think… shit.”

He chuckled. “You mean I don’t think your band is half as talented as you are?”

“Yeah, that.”

“They’re not
un
talented. And believe me, you’ll more than make up for what they lack.”

She smiled. “Well, okay then. As long as you’re sure.”

“I am.”

“So they’ll call tomorrow?”

“Yeah, they’ll give you all the details. I’m really excited about this, Justine.”

“Me, too. And Dillon? Thank you. You have no idea what this means to us.”

After she’d said goodbye, she spun around to face the boys, barely able to contain her excitement.

“Guess what?”

“You’re going to be Miss February,” Eddie deadpanned without looking up from his phone.

“Shut up, asshole. And we’ve talked about this. It’s Playmate of the Year or nothing.”

Eddie laughed and she slapped at his thigh.

David sighed. “So what’s the news?”

“We’re going on tour.”

“Excuse me?”

“Opening for Outlaw Rovers. That was Dillon. The management person is calling tomorrow.” She waited for the explosion, the excitement, the joy. Instead, they all looked at her blankly. David finally spoke, his voice almost a snarl.

“He’s
hiring
you?”

Justine’s enthusiasm rapidly drained away, replaced instead with outrage. “No. His
management
is booking
us
.”

There was a long silent moment as Justine glared at David and David glared at her. Eddie and Paolo glanced nervously back and forth between them, waiting to see who would start shouting or throwing things first. Instead, David let out a humorless laugh and shook his head.

“Well, that’s… convenient.”