The girls had all gone after saying good-bye.
Brett was out back waiting for me in his town car.
Sylvester was outside the dressing room, waiting to escort me to the town car.
And the warmth of the good-bye from the girls meaning I had them back was receding.
Because I was looking at my texts.
It started with:
You’re right. You’ve always been
right. We really need to talk.
I hate that went bad this morning.
Let me know when a good time is
for you.
I’m on at the club tonight. But any
other time, I’m yours.
Just let me know.
After rehearsal and before going out to a late lunch with the girls to catch up on life, it was:
OK. I’m sensing you’re really mad
at me. And you have a right to be.
I’m sorry. I should have called you first
when that stalker phoned me.
I’m about to go out to lunch with
the girls. I apologized to Lottie and she’s
cool with me.
I’d love a chance to apologize to you too.
Will you let me?
He didn’t reply.
So after Sly and I went with Ryn to check out her flip (which was crazy fabulous, even Sly was impressed) …
And before going home to tidy breakfast dishes, make a grocery list, go to my father’s and feed him (in order not to have to explain things to my dad, I made Sly stay outside, and he did not demur, saying, “Good call. You don’t want me anywhere near a man who called you a whore. Especially if that asshole is your father.”—seemed Brett had a type when recruiting henchmen) …
I sent:
Message is coming through loud
and clear.
But just so you know, I’m in to
do the work.
Now it was 2:23 in the morning.
And Axl still hadn’t replied.
It was a bitter pill to swallow, tasting my own medicine.
Dejected, I walked out of the dressing rooms and avoided Sly’s eyes after catching him giving me a narrow look.
We weren’t even at the back door when he repeated his question of earlier.
“Everything cool?”
“Everything’s great,” I lied, still avoiding his eyes.
He escorted me to the town car.
But before he opened the back door to let me in, he said, “You’re a great dancer.”
I looked up at him. “Pardon?”
“Best I’ve ever seen. I should have been watching the crowd, but I couldn’t take my eyes off you, because you were that good.”
Oh man.
I was in danger of crying again.
“Thanks, Sly,” I whispered.
“Just tellin’ you the truth,” he said, and opened the door.
I folded in.
After I did, Sly bent down and exchanged a look with Brett I couldn’t decipher before he closed the door.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Brett greeted.
“Hey, Brett,” I replied.
The car started gliding away.
“It go good tonight?” he asked.
“I worked things out with the girls,” I told him.
“Yeah, Ryn texted me,” he muttered.
Seriously, those two seemed tight.
We had so much to catch up on at lunch, and Evie had joined us, so I didn’t get around to asking about that with Ryn.
The good news of the day, I could call her or text her or talk to her about it tomorrow.
I’d fixed that.
I had my friends back.
The other good news, the day was done.
That was all the good news.
“What about Pantera?” Brett asked after the bad news.
I looked out the side window. “I think he’s still mad.”
“Why do you think that?”
“I’ve texted three times, apologized, he hasn’t texted back.” I turned to him, but only to glance at him before I looked back out the side window. “He’s entitled. I did the same to him.”
“Mm,” Brett hummed.
He then fell silent.
So I looked forward and asked, “How was your day?”
“Interesting.”
He said no more.
“Well, that’s good, I guess,” I mumbled.
“You didn’t freak,” he stated bizarrely.
I again turned to him. “What?”
“When I told you some of the specifics about what Pantera does for a living. You didn’t know it, but when you heard it, you didn’t freak.”
This was confusing.
“Why would I freak?”
He hesitated for a second before he said, “If you don’t know, not sure I should tell you.”
“No, tell me.” I twisted fully to him. “Why would I freak?”
“The man doesn’t ride a desk, Hattie,” he replied carefully.
“I know,” I told him. “I also know he barely knew Ryn, he heard her scream when your guys took her …”
Brett’s face tightened with remorse in the streetlights.
I carried on.
“ … and he raced after her and got in a firefight to save her.”
“My men were under orders, no collateral damage,” he declared. I shook my head. “That’s not the point I’m making. The point I’m making is, he’s the type of man who, split second, charges in to save a woman from something he doesn’t even know the fullness of what was happening. Just that she screamed. He doesn’t have the job he has because he’s a man who has the skills and experience for that job. He got the skills and experience to get that job because he’s the man he is.”