Page 118 of Show biz

“Good,” Greg mutters, crouching in front of me. I feel as if he’s gearing up to give me a pep talk, like you would before a big game. “Seán is announcing that his daughter, Líadan, is his twenty-three year old heir tonight at the club. Her birthday is tomorrow, and there’s been some speculation as to who he’s going to be naming. He’s hoping that you’ll help ease hisannouncement with your performance, because it likely won’t go over very well. He doesn’t have any sons that lived, and he refuses to name anyone else. She’ll likely need to take a husband or have a son to keep her position in the family.”

Chewing on my lip, I read between the lines. When Seán dies tonight, she’ll become the new mafia boss. Shit.

“I see what you’re thinking, Líadan is strong, she’ll be fine. Seán fucked with one of my favorite people. Odds are, she won’t follow you for this ridiculous debt,” Greg scoffs. “She’s known for being a hot head, but attempts to be fair. My concern is getting you out of the club afterwards. The people who are going to be there tonight…”

Lennon has me turn to face her so she can start on my makeup as she continues for him. “These are the heads from the other Irish crime families who are waiting to see who will be Seán’s heir. It may be her debut appearance, but they don’t know that. He’s guarded his daughter for years, training her for this moment. It’s why he’s panicking. Some of these people sell people, Lay, and you’re stunning. Seán is desperate…”

“If he tries to throw you to the Goddamn wolves, strike first and run,” Greg growls. “He’s been unstable for a few years. I looked into him when Lennon asked me to, and I think he has undiagnosed bipolar disorder. He’s always been paranoid, but it’s getting out of hand lately.”

“Close your eyes, Lay,” Lennon murmurs, lifting a shadow palette. I do as she asks, and I can feel the whisper of her breath as she picks up where Greg left off. “What Greg means is that a blood debt could be paid in a variety of ways. One of them is to sell you to some of the sick fucks out there, because he’ll be able to show how valuable you are. Pretend you don’t know why you’re there. Perform, go pay your respects to him and his daughter, and kill the fucker.”

Mind reeling as Lennon does my makeup, I realize how deep I actually am right now.

“Do the guys know?” I rasp. I know they know some of this, but I doubt they’d be okay with this.

“No,” Greg grunts as Lennon tells me to open my eyes and applies false lashes. “I don’t think you’d get within ten feet of the club if they knew.”

“Tyler could probably handle it,” I admit. “He's seen me train with you and Lenny. The others… not a chance.”

“I can see that things are different with you now,” Lenny murmurs. “Tesa sent special tea just in case they were still douche-canoes.”

Giggling, I cover my mouth. Thankfully, she’s just about finished. “I would have taken you up on that yesterday.”

“Hmmm, do I want to know?” Lenny asks.

“Atlas has a really good tongue game and looks good on his knees,” I tell her as I laugh.

“Thank fuck they finally made you come!” Lenny yells. There’s silence on the other side of the door and she shrugs. “It doesn’t mean I’ve totally forgiven them. Roark and Turner may still beat the shit out of them.”

“Ooh, Mav got kidnapped! So maybe just beat the shit out of Atlas,” I tell her, loud enough that I know they can hear me outside.

“Layla,” Atlas groans. “I’ll totally let Roark and Turner take their anger issues out on me if it makes you feel better.”

Lenny rocks her head back and forth with an amused expression. “I’ll give it a seven out of ten, Lay. Alright, it’s time. I have an invite to this thing, so I’m going to go with Roark. We’re going to channel our inner spies tonight,” she says. “Greg will be lurking with Turner, Derek and Orion. We’ll try to get at least two of them in as your instrument crew. There’s also a camera in my pin, so they will see what I do in case that doesn’t happen.”

Lennon is wearing a sexy black pants-suit without a shirt. There’s a beautiful pin on her jacket, and she’s wearing gorgeous red-bottomed heels. I noticed Roark was also dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, so they’ll fit in perfectly.

“Alright,” I tell them, standing as I smooth out my dress. Seán may be a dick, but he has exquisite taste in clothes. “Let’s topple a king from his empire tonight.”

Twenty-Seven

TYLER

Layla has her head held high as we walk off the bus and she smiles as we approach the back door, where a bouncer is standing. We already left Roark and Lennon at an intersection ten minutes from here so they could arrive by cab.

“Name please,” the bouncer says, bored, staring at the bus in disinterest.

“Layla Campbell,” she answers blithely. The bouncer straightens faster than expected, nodding.

“Mr. O’Brien has been eagerly waiting for you all,” he murmurs. “Do you need help with any equipment?”

“We have a crew that can bring in my things,” Layla says airly with a smile. It’s her borderline airhead tone that makes my eyes narrow. I don’t know the entire plan, and I’m quite certain there’s a reason for that I won’t be pleased with.

I hope my little flower is ready for another spanking. Fuck.

If there’s one thing I won’t be doing, it’s not backing up my girl.

“Will that be a problem?” I ask. “Some of it has to be positioned appropriately or it could be damaged or affect how the band sounds on stage.”

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