Page 33 of Naughty Dreams
DJ saw patience, and a message he was too pissed off to decipher right away. Then he studied Roy like a feral cat examining a bowl of food inside a trap.
“You were testing me? Screwing with me?”
“No,” Roy said. “I thought about the things you said. You’ve had the same amount of time to think it through. Did you change your mind about what you wanted?
The gray eyes were calm, but behind them were less calm things. After half a second, DJ had a response. With an exaggerated flourish, he presented his middle finger, then lowered it to present the injured side of his hand. Roy gave him a stern look before tearing open the wet wipe. He laid the band-aid on DJ’s knee while he cleaned the cut, his grip steady around DJ’s wrist, his focus on the task. DJ could do nothing but watch him until he wrapped the band-aid around the cut.
“How’d you pop a string?”
“Asked too much of it.”
Roy smoothed the band-aid and sat down on a stool facing him. As he braced himself with his polished shoes, his thigh muscles flexed under the hold of the slacks. DJ wondered if his besotted fans studied him as closely as he seemed unable to stop himself from doing with Roy.
“You’re still going to the movie studio meet after this?” Roy asked.
“Yeah. Then I’ll come back here to jam with the guys, until it’s time to do dinner with that international concert promoter who’s wanting to discuss our next world tour.”
“Followed by the rollout on the tour bus,” Roy noted. “The rest of the equipment left yesterday with the roadies to do the load in at the next venue. Eleven trucks’ worth. How do you make any money on your concerts?”
“Concerts are about promoting the music sales, man. When we do a great show, we got fans for life who talk about us to everyone they meet.” DJ smiled. “But Moss makes sure we break even so we’re never in debt to the label.”
DJ moved his foot a few inches, so it was against the inside of Roy’s braced one. The cuff of his jeans brushed the hem of his slacks. Roy’s glance went to the contact before he rose, a slight smile on his lips.
DJ had no idea what it meant, what it changed. But he did feel better. Especially when he looked down and saw Roy had left a pack of trail mix on the stool for him. With M&Ms in the mix to cut the salt.
“If you have a fatal blood sugar crash, it brings down my Yelp rating,” his bodyguard mentioned as he exited the booth.
Yep. Definitely better.
Later, as they headed for the meet with the movie studio, Moss discussing whatever Moss always needed to talk to DJ about, DJ was listening, but he was also hyper-cognizant of Roy. His bodyguard was sitting in the front seat, scoping out the road and checking in with the forward and rear escort vehicles. If he’d been sitting next to DJ, he could have inhaled his aftershave and been thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder.
Roy would say he was impeding his situational awareness. DJ smiled at the thought.
Once they arrived at the movie studio, DJ met with the music director and his people. He’d been offered six figures for a single vocal piece in a movie, and Steve, Tal and Pete were cool with it. The movie wasn’t doing a soundtrack release, so Moss had worked a deal where it could be included on their next album, which they’d complete in the studio as soon as they finished this tour run.
Since DJ had brought his acoustic guitar and a music pad with him, they could get right into it. The film director provided DJ input, answering his questions about how she was going to film the scene and what emotional output she wanted from it. Though she looked like a padded soccer mom, she knew her business and loved filmmaking. DJ always connected to someone who treated their art as their priority. In return, she appreciated DJ’s serious approach to what she wanted to happen. Her answers gave him a few new ideas, so he felt sure he could meet her deadline.
They adjourned to the conference room to hammer out paperwork issues and recording schedules. The movie studio was willing to rent a recording space near the Denver tour stop so DJ could keep to his schedule and they could keep theirs. Roy stood outside the room, visible through the glass wall. Expressionless and yet forbidding-looking, he tracked everything and everyone, inside the room and out.
It gave DJ an idea. He leaned over to the lawyer next to him, a thirty-something with a toned body, intelligent green eyes and well-cut blond hair that smelled like cucumber and vanilla. “Hey, Clark. Just for fun. Hold up your pen like it’s a knife and pretend like you’re going to stab me with it.”
Clark shot DJ a dubious look before glancing at Roy through the glass. “Do I look like I want to be body slammed? This is a three-thousand-dollar suit.”
DJ chuckled and caught Clark’s hand, fast enough he couldn’t pull away before DJ made him mimic a stabbing motion toward him. Roy shot him a “really?” kind of look, as DJ tossed him a grin and released the lawyer. He had to torment Roy a little, to make up for the emotional wrestling that had kept DJ up most of the night.
Clark held up both hands, so Roy knew he was blameless. Like he needed to be told. Moss rolled his eyes, took the pen from Clark and handed it to DJ. “Please sign on the dotted line before you annoy my ulcers.”
“Your ulcers are your only friends, Moss. I wouldn’t want to drive a wedge between you.”
As DJ signed the paperwork, Clark was giving Roy a different kind of look. An appraising one. “So does he just radiate badass, or is he really someone you don’t want to mess with?”
“Both. He’s a good bodyguard. No sense of humor, though.”
“I could live with that.” The lawyer shot Roy a suggestive half-smile that amused DJ far less. But he’d been the onewho injected playfulness into the meeting, allowing the slip in professionalism. Fortunately, when Roy gave Clark a very cool look, he was all business again. “I’ll shoot these copies over, along with the schedule details, Mr. Moss.”
“That’s great. Thanks.”
As DJ and Moss left the conference room, people were loitering near their office doors. They saw actors and directors every day, but a rockstar was a new face. Some called out compliments to him about Survival’s music, and he offered warm thanks in response, giving out autographs and shaking hands.
