Safeword (36 page)

When he knew his time was almost up, he slowed it down with a cover of Motley Crüe’s “Home Sweet Home” that he’d written himself in a different key and tempo than the popular ‘80s song. To his astonishment, Moonshine sat at the piano across from him, found his key, and joined in, harmonizing with a strong voice he had no business being surprised by, given her throaty laugh. The amount of fun he had improvising with her brought a smile to his face, and he looked out to their invisible—save one—audience and imagined cell phones held aloft and swaying, couples dancing in each other’s arms, and a bunch of people standing along the back wall because the seats were all taken.

He could see it so clearly that when the outside door opened and a shard of sunlight speared the room, it startled him out of his reverie. He held the last note, Moonshine in harmony and eyeing him for the cue to stop. When he nodded and stopped, the silence reasserted itself and Duff looked anxiously at Brad.

The man’s face was still blank.

Oh my god, he hated it.

Duff watched Moonshine hurriedly greet whoever had entered as he reluctantly climbed down from the stage to face his fate. He approached Brad, holding his breath. The owner hadn’t moved, and the longer he studied Duff passively, the more nervous Duff became. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he willed his performance high to calm down. The man hadn’t thrown him out, and the worst he could say was, “Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Yeah, I’m here for the audition?” the guy talking to Moonshine said. She looked the guy up and down.

“Man, they just get younger and younger, don’t they Brad?” she called back to them, delaying Brad’s inevitable brush off a few more seconds. Duff blew out a breath.

Brad stood and turned, approaching his business partner and the newcomer. Brad stuck out his hand and said in his smooth, even-toned voice, “Thank you for coming in.” Duff gulped and followed, intending to thank Brad for his time and say he’d wait for a call, then hightailing it out the door. The words died when Brad spoke again to the newcomer. “I’m sorry, but the gig has been booked.”

The guy’s face fell as he looked Duff over and nodded. Moonshine clucked sympathetically, handed him a card for a free pitcher of the drink of his choice, and offered him luck finding something else while she shooed him to the door. As soon as the guy was gone, she came straight to Duff and linked arms again.

“He never hires this fast,” she whispered, then said aloud, “I get to keep you.” Her grin split her face, and Duff, ecstatic his job search was over, grabbed her around the waist and by the hand, then spun and dipped her while she laughed. He straightened and let her go when Brad spoke again.

“Be here by four tomorrow afternoon for your first night. You won’t be on until seven, but I want to show you around and introduce you to the others. I realize you’re here to perform, but occasionally we’ll ask you to stand in as a waiter if we’re short staffed. We’re a bar, not a restaurant, but we serve burgers and wings. Mostly, if you have to wait tables, you’ll be serving drinks.”

“Yes, sir,” Duff answered promptly. He was no stranger to waiting tables, though he hated it. But if he was only a backup, he could handle that.

“Call me Brad.” He stuck out his hand, which Duff immediately and enthusiastically shook. “Welcome to
Queers
, Duff.” Then he wheeled around and went back to his office, head down and shoulders tensed around his ears with his hands jammed in his jeans pockets.

“Wait!” Duff called. Brad turned expectantly. “Um, what’s the stage dress code? I don’t want to look like a whore or a nun compared to the other musicians.” Instantly, his cheeks colored with embarrassment.
Nice way to put it, jackass.
Beside him, Moonshine snickered.

For the first time, Brad’s face became thoughtful and he made no secret of looking Duff up and down, causing the young man’s face to heat further. He waggled his finger to indicate Duff’s current attire.

“That looks good.” Then he disappeared, leaving Duff to float out the door, excited to tell his best friend, Garrett, the good news.

§§§

“MY MY, Bradley,” Moonshine purred, flouncing into his office and draping herself across the couch on the far wall, careful to keep her stilettos off the cushions. “For a second, I thought you might throw Duff down and ravish him right there.”

Brad rolled his eyes at her sarcasm and clicked through the calendar he’d opened during his discussion with Duff. Double-clicking on several appointments, he noted names and numbers to call and cancel the scheduled auditions, completely ignoring his best friend and business partner.

“If you want, I could dig for the goods on him, see if he’s available.”

Shooting her a scathing look, he replied, “You know I don’t date employees.”

She snorted, sitting up straight and putting her hands under her chin with her elbows on her knees. “You don’t date, period.”

“And for good reason,” he snapped in warning. Once a week, she tried to break him out of his self-imposed social prison with the threat of fixing him up on a blind date, but today, his impatience for the subject was sharper, harder to swallow.

Standing, she came around the desk and kneaded his shoulders with her strong pianist’s hands. He couldn’t help the groan that escaped him as she milked the tension from his muscles, and he let his head fall back to rest against her torso. Exhaling, he tried to relax.

“I’m just glad to have found someone so fast.”

“I’m glad we found someone, too,” she returned sympathetically. “But I’ve never seen you snatch one up like that. What gives?”

Running his hands over his face, he shook his head. “I don’t really know. He came in and stared at me, and for a minute, it was.… I was looking at my past all over again, like Scott came back, plopped in that chair”―he pointed to where Duff had sat―“and started talking about his grand plans the way he used to, getting me all excited about our big, shiny future. I had to look away from Duff and remind myself that Scott’s gone just to get through the interview. But you should have heard him talk, Moonshine. He’s got the same spark Scott had. The same passion.”

“I noticed the resemblance between them the minute Duff walked in. You going to be able to handle that?”

Brad sat forward, his elbows on the desk, head hanging. When Moonshine leaned forward and rested her chin on his shoulder, her hands on his sides, he relished her support. Normally, he wasn’t touchy feely. Or he wasn’t anymore. The need for her proximity illustrated how unsettled he was.

“I don’t know, honestly. But I couldn’t watch him walk out the door without knowing he’d be back. It was all I could do to keep a straight face.”

“Yeah, you had the robot look down. That’s how I knew he got to you. And goddamn! He can play, sing, and improvise. He’s engaging. He’ll be a great addition to the crew. I can’t remember the last time we had someone that talented.”

Brad flinched.
I can think of someone.
She straightened abruptly and began to smooth her hands over his back. Though he couldn’t see her face, he could tell she hadn’t meant that last comment the way he’d taken it. He didn’t snarl at her like he would have a year ago. He covered one of her elegant hands and squeezed, a gesture she returned.

“What the fuck have I done, Moonshine?” Try as he might, the misery in his voice refused to be contained.

She pulled his chair backward, rounded it, and draped herself across his lap, her arms around his neck. “You, my good sir, are going to go with it. Your instincts may have cobwebs on them, but they’re still there.” She tapped his chest over his heart, softened her voice. “It’s been three years, Brad. You don’t think Scott would want you to go the rest of your life alone, do you?”

The urge to dump her on the floor, to shout in her face and curse at her surprised him in its strength. Instead, he gritted his teeth and spoke with a clenched jaw. “I don’t date employees. You don’t get to tell me when to move on.”

She stood, affecting an air of nonchalance. “So don’t date Duff. Don’t date anyone ever again. Let your dick wither from disuse and fall off, for all I care. Push everyone away so you won’t feel again.” She abruptly spun his chair so he faced her, her hands planted on the arms, her face right up in his, tone demanding. “But do
not
take your demons out on that sweet, talented kid. Don’t crush his dreams because you think yours are in a grave you’ve only had the courage to visit once. You may think you’re dead inside at thirty-one”―she flicked the end of his nose―“but you're not, and don't expect the rest of us to be.”

“Are you done?” he asked coldly.

Abruptly, Moonshine’s entire demeanor changed. She gave Brad a huge, fake smile and planted a loud, smacking kiss on his cheek, leaving a perfect impression in black lipstick. “Not by a long shot.”

“You’re schizophrenic,” he called after her as she sashayed out of his office. He glumly stared at the ceiling, hands folded across his stomach, trying simultaneously to remember and block out the image of Duff crooning “Home Sweet Home.”
Never feel left all alone, my ass,
he thought.

It began with a Halloween themed short story assignment from a second grade teacher, and from then on, AJ Rose fell head over heels in love with writing. Even an active social life through school, learning to play the piano in a passable imitation of proficient, and a daring cross country move couldn't stop the tall tales about imaginary people that refused to be ignored. With college experiences came a change in perspective to romance and passion. A propensity to slash favorite TV characters brought AJ to today, writing mostly M/M for publication. But don't be surprised if the occasional ghost still pops up.

AJ's work can be found at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and All Romance eBooks. AJ lurks at
https://www.facebook.com/aj.rose.5473,
tweets as @_AJRose and blogs at http://andrewjrose.wordpress.com. Keep an eye on http://voodoolilypress.wordpress.com/coming-soon or http://facebook.com/ajrosefiction for future titles by AJ and other talented authors.