Chet slid in first then Griff motioned for me to go next. I liked the idea of being safely between Chet and Griff and went in quickly before he changed his mind.
“I’m Chet,” he told the others then nodded his head to me. “Sailor and Griff.”
Jazz smirked and reached for her drink. It looked like a tall glass of ice water. She said nothing though. I had been expecting something with the way she cut her gaze in our direction. It was probably best she remained silent. I didn’t picture her as the polite type.
“I don’t mean to interrupt but can I have your autograph?” a brunette asked, drawing everyone’s attention in her direction. She was petite, curvy and very large breasted. She had dressed to make sure everyone saw just how big her boobs were. The girl was also only interested in Creed’s autograph. She wasn’t looking at anyone else.
“You are interrupting,” Jazz drawled.
The girl blushed and glanced at her. “I’m sorry. I just really wanted Creed’s autograph. I know when the set is over he will be covered by fans.” She batted her eyelashes at him then.
“Got a pen?” he asked her.
She held out a black permanent marker to him.
“Paper?”
She shook her head and leaned closer and pointed at her cleavage. “Anywhere in this area,” she said.
This time I was the one blushing.
“Oh give me a break,” Jazz said and Wayne chuckled.
“I’ll sign those big titties too, love,” Dalm told her and winked. He had an accent, but I wasn’t sure where it was from.
The girl acted as if she hadn’t heard him. I found it interesting that she just wanted Creed’s autograph when he was the new addition to the band. He couldn’t have played many sets with them. He’d just moved in with Chet.
“I heard you play at Ringers this summer with Clayton. It was amazing,” the girl gushed. I realized then that Creed had a fan base outside of this band. And had she meant Clayton Moore? As in the country singer who opened for my dad on last year’s tour? Creed had played with him? I didn’t picture Creed playing or singing country music.
Creed gave her a delicious grin and she almost melted on the spot and then he signed her right boob. Ewww. That was just trashy or maybe I was a prude. I looked away from them and scanned the packed bar. I was still completely aware of the conversation going on around me. I couldn’t redirect my hearing like I could my vision.
“OHMYGOD! You’re Sailor Copeland! OHMYGOD!” The high pitched tone the girl had taken made me wince. The noise wasn’t as bad as the fact she was about to make a scene. I hated when this happened. I didn’t live a life interesting enough for the tabloids and the pictures they did post were always surrounded by lies. Then there were the photos of me at the CMA’s, Dad’s Grand Ole Opry induction and other events. It was enough to make my face recognizable to a country music fan.
I forced a tight smile and looked at the girl, but before I said anything, Creed spoke up. “She’s a dead ringer for sure but she’s not that lucky. Hell, she’s sitting at a college bar in Boston,” he chuckled, as if the idea of me being here was funny.
The girl didn’t look convinced. “Wow,” she finally said still studying me. “I swear you look just like her.”
I didn’t speak for fear she’d hear my accent and the lie Creed had told would be blown. Instead I smiled and shrugged. The girl kept standing there, looking at me and it was Jazz who said, “You got your autograph. Bye,” in a rude tone. I wasn’t a fan of Jazz, but at that moment, I owed her.
The girl blushed and nodded then hurried away. I felt a little sorry for her but I was still thankful she was gone. The other eyes at the table turned to me and I could feel each curious stare. Damn.
“So, you’re fucking Denver Copeland’s daughter,” Wayne said with a touch of amusement in his voice. Then he turned his attention to Creed. “Did you know that? You covered for her fast. Why didn’t you tell us?”
I felt the panic slam into my chest at the realization that Creed had just unintentionally revealed he knew me…before three days ago. We’d lied. I’d lied to Griff. Why had I lied? I hated lying.
“I recognized her when I met her. I knew her name. Clayton bragged about touring with her dad all the time and Sailor was mentioned. I saw pictures of her with her dad online,” he shrugged. “She wasn’t telling anyone who her dad was so I figured she was keeping it a secret.”
He was a much better liar and although that bothered me, the relief his lie brought me made it easier to breathe again. His words sank in and I wondered if he had looked me up online to see me now. Had he followed my dad’s career curious about me? I didn’t want to like that thought but I did.