“You’re that guy. Bad Intentions? Right?”
“Guilty. So how about that drink?”
I roll my eyes as I hand my employee forms across the bar to Waylon who looks like he has better shit to do with his time than listen to the two of us. He places them under the bar and moves to get this guy his beer.
“So, you think because I recognized you that I’m what all the sudden going to change my mind?” I arch a brow at him.
“Well damn.” He shakes his head and takes his beer, chugging it.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Waylon.”
He nods.
I go to the backroom to retrieve my purse.
When I am coming back through the band is sitting at a booth and Cheryl is leaning down, whispering in the drummer’s ear. I laugh silently and make my way to the door. I should have asked for his autograph. I wonder how in the hell Holden got them to play here.
Just as I am moving to push the door open, Holden is pulling it from the other side. His eyes meet mine full of such intensity.
“Hey,” I say, trying to keep my cool, but my heart is about to thump right out of my chest.
“Conleigh,” he says coolly, walking on past me.
That’s it. No smartass remarks.
I start to ask him if he’s mad at me, but that seems stupid. I watch as he goes over to the booth and wraps an arm around Cheryl’s shoulder. My stomach tenses and I don’t know why I haven’t started walking to the apartment yet. I guess my curiosity is winning. The lead singer gets up and gives Holden one of those weird fist bump combos all guys seem to do.
He whispers something to Holden and then they are both looking at me, and I hurry out the door, embarrassed having been caught gawking at them.
I don’t turn back as I rush to make the walk to the apartment.
When I get there Ezra isn’t home yet. I am thankful for a few moments to myself but when I go to sit on the couch, I remember kissing Holden. The way he kissed me…thinking about It, I can’t help but smile. I move to the bedroom, but I see Holden’s door across the hall. I shake my head, I am not letting my mind go there right now.
I get on my computer and look up the band, Bad Intentions. I can’t help but wonder why they would book a gig at The Grill. Lead singer, Wren James has been arrested several times for possession and DUI. Numerous stints in rehab. And here I thought Holden was a bad boy. Wren James hmm. I wonder what his relation to Holden is. Looks like the band lost out on several endorsements when they canceled their last tour and have been on a break while Wren spent three months in court ordered rehabilitation. There are several photos of this Wren and a blonde bombshell playboy model type chick. Says that her name is Reese James, I guess she was his wife or maybe she still is. I feel dirty snooping on Holden and his friend or family member or whatever and end up erasing my browsing history and pretending I didn’t give in to the temptation. If he wants me to know he will tell me. It isn’t any of my business.
I haven’t heard from Ezra to know when he will arrive, and I have no idea what I will say to him when he does make an appearance. I think about working on my book, but I can’t get in the zone. I have too much on my mind. I haven’t heard from my mother today either. I figured she would have been harping on me to accept Ezra’s proposal. Not that her lecture would bear any weight on changing my mind.
Chapter 18
Conleigh
It’s another two hours before Ezra shows and when he comes in things are extremely tense and awkward.
He stares at me for a minute as I sit on the bed reading. I pretend not to notice his presence for a few minutes. I don’t know what to say to him. I’m terrified I will tell him about Holden and me simply to hurt him. He deserves it, but that isn’t who I am.
“Con, you think you can stop ignoring me and put the book down?” He snaps.
“Do you think you could travel back in time and not fuck your assistant?”
He sighs, loudly. Overly dramatic.
Sticking my bookmark in the crease, I close my book and place it on the nightstand.
“Truce? I just want to talk.”
“Fine. Truce,” I tell him tight lipped.
He runs his hand through his hair and I can tell by the lines on his forehead this isn’t a conversation I really want to have. He takes off his jacket and loosens his tie. I watch as he kicks off his shoes and then he sits down by my feet on the edge of the bed.