Page 78 of The Painter and His Poet

“Princetown Bandits are gigging in London?” Drix asks, surprise in his voice.

“Yeah, a record label is very interested in them. I’m going to meet with the label and the guys when they return,” Ben explains. “It’s been a long time coming.”

“That’s amazing, they’re really good,” Lia adds.

“If you don’t mind me coming too, I’d love to hear Harlow sing again. Her voice is stunning,” Daisy says.

Lia’s smile broadens “Oh me too. She gave me chills when she sang at the wedding.”

“Pretty sure she gave a few of us more than chills,” Ben comments with a smirk, and I almost reach out and punch him in the face. “Anyway, of course you all should come. It’ll be a great night.”

“Well, I guess we better head off. I’ll hopefully see you all soon then?” Daisy asks.

“You bet, Daise,” Drix replies as Dalton leads Daisy into the crowd. We all watch them walk away as Drix says, “Drink, anyone? Because I could sure fucking use one.”

“Drix!” Toby exclaims before throwing his hand over his mouth and giggling.

“Sorry, bud,” he replies, wincing, before casting us both a look. “You coming?”

I shake my head. “We’ll catch up with you in a moment, okay?”

“Sure thing.” Drix nods then guides Lia and Toby to the corner of the room.

“I’d like a word, Ben. Inprivate,” I snap before he can even open his mouth and put his foot in it one more time.

“Oh fucking hell, Sterling. Don’t lose your shit. It’s just a gig,” Ben retorts, but he follows me anyway.

As soon as we step outside, I round on him. “What the actual fuck, Ben?!”

“It’s no big deal–” he begins, but I cut him off with a shake of my head.

“No big deal? You know what it does to me when she sings.”

“Then don’t come to the gig,” he offers with a shrug.

“There’s no fucking way I’m letting her go to Bandits Bar alone,” I counter darkly.

He rolls his eyes and I almost reach out and throttle him. “Shewon’tbe alone.”

Exactly!She’s far too beautiful, and way too talented not to get any unwanted attention.

“Regardless, I’m coming!”

“Okay, great. Now are you going to chill out?”

“No. I’m pissed off that you’re having conversations with Harlow behind my fucking back!”

“Lower your damn voice,” Ben warns, nodding to a couple of guests who’ve just arrived. He waits for them to enter before he continues. “It’s innocent okay. I bumped into her a couple of days ago inThe Cosy Chord, we got talking and I explained the band are gigging in London, and that I needed a stand-in. She agreed. That’s all there is to it.”

“She was at The Cosy Chord? Was Blake there?” I ask, knowing what a flirtatious bastard he can be. The kid has got a reputation, and I don’t like the fact she was alone with the little shit.

“She is allowed to leave the fucking mansion, Sterling,” he points out. “And, yes, of course Blake was there.”

“Fuck sake,” I mutter, feeling more than a little agitated.

“Actually, they were playing together when I walked in. Harlow was singing, and she was fucking incredible, Sterling. Did you know she could play the piano?”

No, I fucking didn’t.

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