Page 25 of Jet

“I’d like to think you won’t but I can’t imagine what was going through your mind when he called you out. Just knowing his fucking MO made me want to clock the fucker. Abby had to hold me back and she doesn’t know the half of it.”

“And let’s keep it that way, too, Lucas. I know she’s your woman and everything but it doesn’t give you the right to tell someone else’s story.”

“Bro, I wouldn’t do that and you know it.” Yeah, I do, but I needed to throw it out there. I just bump his shoulder as we all walk inside. Oh joy, we’re here.

Filing into that room is daunting since all eyes are on us. I’m not stupid. I hear some of them snickering and whispering as I pass by. Oh gee, I wonder why? I’d much rather be playing on stage in front of a thousand adoring fans than under the media’s scrutiny. They’ve all been warned ahead of time: no pictures before and during the conference. I know their fingers are itching to get a few in and I’m surprised they’re actually listening.

We all take a seat, and by the time Quinn walks into the room twenty minutes later I’m ready to walk out the fucking door.

* * *

QUINN

I’m hyperventilating afterCaleb handed me the list he compiled with all of the bands who have agreed to do the benefit concert for the homeless. I’m humbled that so many would come forward and give their time for such a worthy cause. Some are big-name bands that have been around for years. One of them beingRebel Riot, which is the reason I can’t catch my breath. My ex-husband’s band. It’s suspicious that they would bother with something of this nature, unless he found out that I’mThe Sinful Seven’sPR agent. Which he very well could have since it’s public knowledge. Hell, all anyone needs to do is pop my name in a search engine and it would be linked with theirs.

“You’re white as a ghost, is everything all right?” Caleb would have to point that out. Now all eyes are on me and I need to cover my tracks.

“Couldn’t be better. I’m just overwhelmed that so many bands are kind enough to help us out. Then again, I knew that the American Organization of Musicians would pull through. They always do.”

“Absolutely, and they also know that if the time ever came we would reciprocate. It’s how this community comes together. When someone has a call to action, they answer that call. Now, let’s get ready for the press conference, shall we?”

Folding up the list he gave me, I tuck it into my briefcase. I’m sure the band will be ecstatic when they see it, especially Jet. I won’t begrudge them their reactions either, it is a very good thing. I’ll just need to leave my feelings at the door and get through that night as best I can. Thankfully it’s going to be one of the last concerts for the event. Ending the tour in LA will give us plenty of time to get home and for me to recoup. If luck is on my side, I won’t have too much interaction with Zander Stone.

I paint a smile on as I walk into the conference room. The band is already sitting in wait of what’s to come and by the look on Jet’s face, he’s not happy. Well, it’s part of the job so he needs to take the bad with the good. Since there’s only one seat available and it’s next to him, I take it. The press has been warned, no pictures before the conference begins, and it looks like they’re adhering to the venue’s policy. Good. Leaning over, I say, “Everyone ready? We’re about to start.”

One by one they acknowledge me, except Jet. Okay, so is he still acting like we don’t get along? I don’t know, but now’s not the place to get into it. As soon as the wall clock strikes ten, the reporters’ hands go up and their cameras flash.

The first person I choose, a reporter with WMBC, asks, “Jet, I was there yesterday when there was a confrontation between you and a man in the crowd. Care to explain?” Damn, is this the topic everyone is going to focus on?

“No confrontation, just a case of mistaken identity. Next question.” I’m stunned, so proud that he kept a level head and squashed the question.

“Is it true that Jet had the idea to start the benefit concerts after the scheduled tour?” We agreed last week that I would take all the PR questions.

“The Sinful Sevenis a team effort, and when there’s a disparity they always go with majority rules. Next question?”

The press conference lasts an hour and other than the very first question, all goes smoothly. All of these band members are professionals and I couldn’t be prouder of them. They deserve a celebration and then I can go over the list of bands that are on board. So far, twenty signed up and that’s amazing.

“Let’s go celebrate,” I say with a smile. “I have something I want to share with all of you.” Jet seems to be in a better mood, joking around with Lucas just like they used to do. Makes me happy that whatever differences they had, they were able to work them out. “You guys can pick the place since this is all about you. We need to let our hair down before we leave for the tour day after tomorrow.”

They eventually agree on theHungry Dog Diner. It was Trevor’s idea and once again Jet looks uncomfortable. Crap! I quickly try and recover the situation. “I’m sorry to be a Debbie Downer, but I’m not feeling a greasy burger. I’m in the mood for Italian, anyone else?” Abby’s like a little kid and soon Willow joins the crazy train. Before you know it, Lucas likes the idea. So,Al Fornoit is.

Since we all came separately, we decide to meet each other there. Jet lingers longer than the others. Only the two of us remain in the parking lot when he saunters over like a tiger stalks his prey and pins me against the car door. “This is the second day in a row that you’ve saved me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you like me.”

He would be absolutely correct in his thinking. “I’m just helping out a friend, that’s all. And for my own selfish reasons.” The way he’s staring at my lips is making my heart palpitate. I’d love to fist his shirt, pull him close, and crush my lips with his.

He’s a breath away when he responds, “What selfish reasons, Quinn?” I lose all train of thought when he captures my response and his lips possess mine.

“We should get going,” I whisper against his lips because his kisses tease and tantalize, making me weak and vulnerable.

He groans and I can’t stop the grin spreading across my face. “Going to dinner is the last thing I want to do, but I’ll meet you there.”

Lust

“TheLustfor comfort murders the passions of the soul.”

Kahlil Gibran

16

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