Page 174 of Play Dirty (Brooklyn Dawn 1)

Someone was not happy.

“Fine.” Noah’s smile was noticeably tighter now that Cooper was in the conversation. “Just working a lot.”

Teagan looked up at him under the heavy fringe of her lashes. “Well, I’m glad you’ll be working with us.”

Lila cleared her throat. “Regardless of whatever just happened in here with Lindsey,” she added pointedly, in case anyone had forgotten, “we have bigger concerns. Although Donovan will also want to speak to you, Lindsey. With the current state of security concerns, he won’t want you running off half-cocked if you’re having personal issues.”

“What, you’re going to tattle to Donovan now?” Jamie crossed her arms.

“I didn’t have to tattle to him. He was on the phone when Lindsey decided to test her aim. And as for your word choice, Jamie, you might want to step carefully. The leeway I grant Lindsey for what just occurred doesn’t extend to you. Your insouciance isn’t appreciated.”

Jamie waited until Lila turned to speak quietly to Noah to move closer to me. “What the fuck does insouciance mean?” she whispered in my ear. “It sounds like a communicable disease.”

I snorted and Lila shot me a look.

“For those of you who don’t know, this is Noah Jordan with Roth Defense. He’s run a few security details over the years. Some of you may know him as—”

“Manaconda’s brother.” Jamie grinned. “How’s Hunter doing anyway? Haven’t seen him on the circuit in a while.”

Noah leveled his flat gray eyes on her and said nothing. Jamie just shrugged and slung an arm over the back of her chair.

“The brother of Hunter Jordan from Hammered,” Lila continued as if Jamie hadn’t spoken.

It was often the best way to deal with my best friend. Lovable pain in the ass that she was.

There were nods and murmured greetings around the table.

“Noah, the floor is yours.”

Noah nodded and launched into a short speech about the changes in our security, mainly that we would be getting a lot more of it.

Yet again, the phone calls I’d repeatedly tried to ignore shoved their way back to the front of my mind. If I’d gotten another, I would have told them immediately, but now I would just look even more like a hysterical female after the display I’d just put on.

Great timing, Lindz.

“What this means for all of you that if you see or hear anything unusual, no matter how small, we want to know. If you’re planning any surprise trips or anything comes up that affects your routine, your security team should be appraised. We don’t want all of you to feel hemmed in or under lock and key, but for the time being, Donovan feels that tightening things is best. That includes anyone new who gets added to your personal show access lists. Unless it’s your mother, they’re getting vetted before they are allowed close to the stage or any of you. In fact, even your mothers aren’t exempt.” He gave a thin-lipped smile. “Sorry.”

I looked down at the songbook I’d started clenching without even realizing it. I might be pissed as fuck at Nash, but I didn’t want to subject him to Noah’s scrutiny. Nash might be a dick, but he didn’t deserve to have his past raked through for safety reasons that had nothing to do with him. I knew I could trust him physically.

Everything else? Off the table.

Oz leaned forward and cleared his throat. “Not to be indelicate with the ladies present, but what about the special backstage pass list after shows? We typically just pick a few fans from the crowd. You can’t expect to vet every person we want to party with.”

“By party with, he means fuck.” Jamie held up a peace sign when Oz glared. “Hey, brother, doesn’t bother me. I’ve handed out a few passes of my own in my day.”

“To chicks?” Cooper propped his chin on his hand. “Is it story time? Should I get a refreshing beverage?”

Lila rose and crossed her arms. “Not sure if you’re all aware, but this is a serious threat. You might all think it’s funny right now, but if something happens to one of your band members, you won’t be laughing or thinking about your next potential bangfest. And before you think it can’t happen to you or your band, I’ll remind you about Randy Pruitt.”

Any smirks disappeared.

“You’re right,” Oz said after a moment. “Safety comes first. If vetting everyone we want to come backstage is necessary, we’ll do that.”

“Or, you know, maybe be a little more discriminating with your affections.”

We all shifted to stare at the petite blond who’d just decided to weigh in on the matter. But she wasn’t looking at any of us. Her attention was riveted on Oz.

His eyes narrowed. He braced his hands on the table and then he stood, unfurling himself inch by threatening inch. “Daisy fucking Flannigan?”

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