Page 115 of Play Dirty (Brooklyn Dawn 1)

Jamie slapped him on the arm. “Don’t worry about us, G. We got this. Lindz didn’t even wear five-inch heels. What could go wrong?”

“Now don’t jinx it,” I muttered.

She shrugged and moved around the mountain of a man. She slid on her aviators, then slapped him on the ass before giving him a cheeky wave as she headed for the elevators.

I rolled my eyes and followed her. The weight of the guitar in my hands felt good. By the time we made it upstairs, we were animatedly talking about which song we’d cover. The easy way we fell into work always kept me from locking up.

An arena full of people, no problem. Interviews? Yeah, I wasn’t really a fan. Interviewers were always looking for ways to trip me up so I’d say something newsworthy. Either I came off looking like an asshole because I shut them down, or a deer in the headlights. Both pissed me off.

“Don’t tense up, chick. Bobby and Shay aren’t bad. They’re more likely to ask us about the setlist than to look for some juice for the morning blender.”

I rolled my shoulders when the elevator doors opened. “Yeah, that’s true.” I relaxed my spine, my neck, and finally, my face as we walked into the hallway. My mask slipped firmly into place as the producer hurried around a desk.

“Ladies, thanks so much for coming in.” Her lemon-blond hair was scraped up into a messy bun, with one pair of glasses on her head and another on her face.

“Hey, Casey.” Her name slipped right out of my mouth. We’d done the rounds enough in Chicago that I knew most of the producers.

“Hey, you brought your instruments. Shay will be thrilled.”

Jamie rocked back on her heels, snapping her gum, her sunglasses still on. Casey gave her a nervous smile and Jamie gave her a shark-like one in return. My best friend loved to make people uncomfortable.

“Right this way. We’re all set up for you.”

“Perfect. Thanks so much for having us.”

“Of course. We’re doing an auction for the King Foundation, would you two be interested in signing anything?”

“Sure. Anything for Logan.” I gave her a softer smile to make up for Jamie’s toothy one.

Casey’s eyes lit. “Thanks so much. I’ll set some stuff up in the conference room for after your interview.” She led us into a larger room than we normally visited. “We have a new podcasting room, so you guys will have some space to move. Trident Media bought out the station, so they’re upgrading everything.”

I frowned at that name. It kept coming up lately.

Our band had been with Ripper Records since the beginning of our career. There had been various labels who’d tried to steal us away, but loyalty was important to me. Sometimes prettier numbers in the contract didn’t actually reflect reality in the long run. Especially when it came to rights to our own songs. Trident was one of the juggernauts in the entertainment industry. Evidently, not just in music anymore. Or they liked controlling the music with radio too.

I hated to think that way, but it was getting harder and harder not to these days.

“Can’t say my butt will miss those little stools,” I said with an easy laugh as I spotted the huge couch with two microphones set up for us. Definitely didn’t pay to let people see me sweat.

Jamie didn’t waste any time rushing to the sunken couch across from a rounded desk with half a dozen monitors. The chairs were empty right now, but I spotted Shay through the skinny window in the door on the opposite side of the room.

She had her hand on the doorknob, but she was talking to someone in the hallway. Then she disappeared.

Casey’s eyebrows were pinched when I turned back to her. Just as quickly, she smoothed out her expression and smiled. “Why don’t you guys get settled and I’ll see what’s keeping my morning crew?”

“Sure.”

“Where’s the fire?” Jamie asked when I got to the couch.

“Not sure. Hopefully, Bobby won’t be coming in wearing a chicken suit or something again.”

“He was probably naked under the suit.” Jamie wiggled her fingers and sneered. “Perv.”

“I can’t unsee that, Jame.”

She shrugged and started tuning her blue Breedlove acoustic.

I took out my own acoustic. The ancient Taylor had been with me since I’d written my first song. Jamie had dozens of guitars. Me? I just had this one. It was a tattoo of my life. Brooklyn’s skyline had been sketched on the back, and the notes to my first song were etched along the waterline. Most people didn’t know they were there, or assumed they were something else.

---