Page 19 of Naughty Dreams
DJ’s eyes sparkled. He was fiddling with two straws, and Tal poured himself a drink from the mini-bar. He started digging in his jeans pocket, but when he saw Roy’s attention, Tal froze, his gaze darting toward DJ.
DJ either missed the exchange or chose to, but when Roy looked his way, DJ had the two straws up his nose, walrus style. He used his upper lip to wiggle them. “Is this what you mean about seeing anything go up my nose, Roy?”
Roy’s lips tugged.Idiot.DJ disposed of the straws before leaning his head back. Moss handed him some aspirin and DJ swallowed it dry.
“Some execs from the label will be meeting us at The Experience,” he noted. “I’ll need you guys to press some flesh with them before scattering.”
“How about the fans who won the guest pass?” DJ didn’t open his eyes.
“We have a private room for you to do a fifteen-minute meet and greet and allow for pictures, hugs, all that thing. Try to keep it to fifteen minutes. You don’t need to know their life story.”
DJ lifted a thumbs up to Moss, then rolled a now open eye toward Roy. “You didn’t shoot any of those fans who tried to rush the barricade. I was impressed.”
“Bullets are expensive. The festival security and Henry’s people had it well in hand.”
“They usually do,” Tal said, shooting Roy a passive aggressive look.We don’t need you.
“Remember that girl who tackled DJ in Dallas?” Pete asked. “Henry’s guy had to put her down so hard he cracked her ribs.”
“After she broke his nose.” Steve waved his glass. “In the words of Will Smith, ‘don’t start nothing, won’t be nothing.’”
“Was thatIndependence DayorMen In Black?”
“Men in Black,” Roy and DJ replied at the same time.
“Jinx!” Tal declared. “Shit, we should watch that tonight. Tell our concierge bitch to find it for us. We like watching her cute ass scurry around.”
DJ shot him a look and Tal lifted his free hand. “Tell the conciergeladyto find it for us. She still has a stellar ass.”
“Raising a kid is a full-time job,” Steve told DJ.
“Fuck all of you,” Tal said affably and took a swallow of his drink.
The limo pulled up to the curb slowly, because a restless group of fans and paparazzi was waiting. The Experience was a rotating rooftop restaurant, reserved tonight for music’s elite, including those who’d played the popular annual rock festival.
Roy got out first, noting his team members emerging from the SUVs in front of and behind the limo. When they were in position and the area scanned, Roy dipped back into the limo and jerked his head at the others. “Come on out. DJ will follow.”
“You got it, sir, yes sir.” Pete gave him a jaunty salute and hauled himself out, a whiskey bottle in one hand and a glass in the other. Roy gave him a gentle shove to keep him moving and Steve and Tal followed. Moss offered Roy a more serious nod as he exited, then raised his hand to the fans.
The crowd cheered as Steve hammed it up, playing an air guitar, and Pete flourished the booze. Tal followed at a sexy saunter, turning in circles as if embracing the crowd. The self-satisfied look the drummer shot Roy meant he’d taken whatever was in his pocket and thought he was getting away with it.
Roy had the flanking detail tighten up, then put his head back into the car.
Alone, DJ had let his guard down. Roy saw the pain in his expression. “How’s the wing?”
“Sore, but I’ll make it through. God bless aspirin.”
“Do you have to do this?”
“It’s my job. Can’t take a day off over something as stupid as dislocating my shoulder.”
“What qualifies you for a day off? Compound fracture, head injury? Spontaneous blindness?”
DJ grinned. “How would anyone tell if I had a head injury? This is the craziest business in the world, man.”
“No argument there. Ready to go?”
DJ’s gaze glinted. “Can you give me a hand to pull me out of the butt-sucking grip of this cushy limo seat?”
