Page 113 of A Hard Sell

Thomas met his eyes, gaze soft. “I love you, too.”

A thrill went through Luka. He never got tired of hearing it. He took Thomas’ hand, about to tell him that, when Kazio started growling at them through a microphone.

“All right, everyone, sit down,” he said from up on the stage. He paused to glare as the crowd shuffled to their seats. Luka and Thomas slipped into chairs next to Tawney.

“I normally don’t do this kind of thing,” he continued, “but, well, I give you… Symphony!”

Luka sighed.

“I know.” Thomas patted his knee before Luka could, once again, tell him how much he hated that name.

Then there he was, strutting to the microphone as the patrons cheered. Morgan fucking Di Meo. He was wearing impossibly tight ripped jeans and a retro Queen tank top, a red electric guitar slung over his shoulder. He had let his hair grow out a little, and it was styled up in an artfully constructed tousle. He looked pretty hot, which irritated Luka to no end.

Then he kissed Kazio on the cheek. The barkeep gave him a look that was both affectionate and annoyed at the same time.

Luka’s eyebrows shot off his forehead. “Oh,really?”

Then Morgan took to the mic and drowned out any further thoughts anyone might have.

“What’s up, everybody!” Morgan hollered. “We…are…Symphony!” He struck a chord on his guitar and the band crashed in behind him. He had a drummer, bassist and a second guitar. It took Luka about four bars to decide they were…quite good.Damn it.

Luka bobbed along despite himself. Thomas opened his mouth to say something, but Luka held up a finger. “Do not, my love. I need a moment to adjust to this reality.”

Thomas smiled into his pint.

“Oh my God, they’re really good!” Tawney leaned over at the end of the first song. She spotted Luka’s sulk and laughed. “Sorry, babe. I mean…” She glanced back at the stage. “He’s a performer!”

Luka sighed and took a drink. The second song was even better. Thomas took his hand, rubbing a thumb in soothing circles. After the third song, he leaned over to murmur in Luka’s ear. “You’re still better than him.”

Luka turned to give Thomas a half-smile. “Thanks, but…it’s okay. I’m happy for him.”

“Oh, well, then… Maybe he needs an opening act?”

Luka swatted at him and settled in to watch the rest. The truth was, Luka was drawing crowds of his own now. He had performed at two more open mic nights before the manager of Jitters had asked him about doing his own show. So he had done three of those, and experienced the very weird feeling of havingfans. People who called him by name and showed up just to watch him. His most requested song wasSay Hi.

And he was okay with Morgan being successful, too. Were there too many guitar solos? Yes. Was he still a raging egomaniac? Absolutely. Was Symphony quite talented, despite the pretentious and unusable name? Fuck. Yes, yes they were. Morgan took on a few notes he shouldn’t have, but overall, Luka didn’t hate it.

The band finished their first set to raucous applause. “Another drink?” Thomas asked, getting up from the table.

“Thanks, babe,” Luka said as some surprise visitors settled themselves across from him. “Aleandro! Penelope!” he greeted them. “What are you doing here?” They had extended the Sartini contract again, but Breakpoint was between campaigns right now and Luka hadn’t talked to them in a few months.

Aleandro returned the warm smile. “We were planning to stop by the office sometime to say hi, and Ilona suggested we come tonight. I quite enjoyed the band!”

Penelope tilted her head. “He was a little sharp in his upper register, though, wasn’t he?”

Luka snickered. “Penelope, I don’t think I’ve told you before how much I like you.”

Her smile gleamed, then her gaze flicked over Luka’s shoulder.

“Luka…?” Thomas rumbled.

“Yes, my love?” He turned around.

And there Thomas was, kneeling on the ground. On both knees.

“What are you…?”

The Breakpoint crowd stilled, and all eyes were on them.

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