“That didn’t even feel like work.” I laugh because it’s been a long time since I deejayed, and I miss it. “I haven’t done it in forever.”
“Come do it again!” Hector pushes an impatient hand through the dark hair that keeps flopping into his eyes. “You know we’re opening a Pirouette here in LA in two weeks.”
“For real?” I take another swill of my drink. “You doing big things.”
“Be bigger if I had Mr. Number One spinning on opening night.” Hector’s already-impassioned expression brightens even more if that’s possible. “And you and Qwest could perform ‘Queen.’”
His VIP visit feels less spontaneous and more calculated with every idea he unpacks. I glance over at Qwest, but she’s so deep in conversation with my mom, she didn’t hear Hector’s proposition.
Great.
Now I’ll never convince Ma that Qwest and I aren’t planning weddings and baby showers.
“We’ll have to check Qwest’s schedule.” I take another look around our group. “I don’t see her manager Will right now, but I can put you in touch.”
“I hear Qwest’s people drive a hard bargain,” Hector says.
“Not as hard as Grip’s people do,” Bristol inserts, scooting down so she can hear the conversation.
“Well, hello there, mami.” Hector’s eyes touch every inch of Bristol from her bare shoulders to the heels stretching her already- long legs out even farther. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”
“Hector, this is my manager Bristol,” I say, my tone void of any warmth. I know Hector. I may not get to have Bristol, but there’s no way I’m letting a sleaze bag like Hector anywhere near her.
“Nice to meet you.” Bristol extends her hand, giving me an “is this guy for real” look when he lin
gers over her hand with a kiss. “When does your club open?”
“In two weeks.” Hector drops his glance to Bristol’s chest. She pretends not to notice but slides a few inches away from him and discreetly wipes her hand against the side of her pants.
“We’ll be just getting back from Dubai.” Bristol frowns and squints one eye. “But we may be able to make it work. I’ll talk with Will to check Qwest’s schedule.”
“Did I hear my name?” Qwest excuses herself from the conversation with my mom and Kai, heading over to our corner where she plops on my knee. On reflex my hands go to her hips, steadying her. Bristol’s eyes linger on my hands touching Qwest, but I refuse to read into it like I’ve done in the past. I refuse to think it bothers her.
“I have a few things I need to check.” Bristol stands, smoothing a few wrinkles from her pants. “I’ll reach out. Grip has your info, right?”
“He does, but I don’t have yours.” Hector’s glance slides from her breasts and over her hips and legs before crawling back up to her face.
“Like I said, I’ll reach out,” she says wryly before turning to walk away.
Hector leans back to watch her go.
“Damn, Grip,” he mutters, eyes still glued to Bristol crossing the room. “Your manager is fine as fuck. She like a little color in her life?”
He rubs his chin and waggles his eyebrows. “Like the color brown?”
“Not happening.” The words come out like pellets, and irritation tightens my hands on Qwest’s hips. She turns her head to study my face, which I know must look like a tundra.
Hector eyes Qwest in my lap.
“Seems to me you got your hands full, bruh.” He laughs. “If you ain’t hitting that, somebody needs to.”
“She’s got a man.” Qwest leans back on my chest so her head snuggles into my neck. “She’s dating Charles Parker. Right, Grip?”
Hector’s face lights up with a cocky grin. “I got something for her I bet he ain’t giving her.”
“The hell you do,” I snap. “Don’t even think about it, Hector. Keep your greasy hands and beady eyes to yourself.”
For a few seconds, our tight circle goes quiet. I feel Qwest studying me closely. The rein I’ve had on myself all night, all week, is slipping. I want to get out of here and take this face off. Take these reins off and just . . . rage in my loft playing something angry like Public Enemy at full blast. As much as I want to ignore it, forget about it, I’m still mad as hell that Bristol isn’t mine. And pretending I don’t care is wearing my ass out.