Page 44 of Fierce Storm
“I’ll meet you downstairs by my car at eight p.m. tomorrow. Assuming you’re going to be here.”
“I’m always here. But tomorrow?” It’s her turn to frown, only hers is in confusion.
“Yep. It’s my turn to do some planning.” I have to find a decent cover band, and I have to find it fast.
My driver, Jeffrey, stops in front of an old dingy-looking bar, and Keeley’s eyes dart to mine, her gaze puzzled as I help her out of the back seat.
“This isnotwhere I pictured you taking me tonight.” As she stands, her eyes rake over my body and she huffs out a laugh. “Although, I should have guessed considering your casual attire. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything other than a suit.”
“Where did you think we were going? The ballroom at the Ritz?”
“Something like that.” She smiles as she shrugs and I can’t help but chuckle.
“Oh, Keeley. You are about to get schooled on music.”
“Schooled? Really?”
“Yep.”
“Bring it on.”
With my palm resting against the base of her spine, I guide her past the entry and the line of people hovering outside, leading her to a weathered metal door at the side of the building. Keeley gasps quietly, her eyes once again flashing to mine. “Who are you?”
“I’m the same man you knew earlier today.”
“Just more fun.”
“The fuck? I’m fun.”
“Yeah, okay, Mr. Workaholic.”
“It takes one to know one,Ms. Workaholic.”Jesus. What is with me? If Paige heard me talking like that, I’m pretty sure she’d disown me again.
Keeley laughs so hard you’d honestly think we were drunk, but I’d say it’s more likely that we both need to get out more. Maybe then, we’d be acting normal right now. Whatever normal is.
“So, Mister?Sir.” She stares at me pointedly when she says “sir” and I bite back a growl. She knows how much I hate that.
“Yes?Miss. Ma’am.” I raise a brow in triumph and Keeley rolls her eyes.
“How do we get into this fine establishment?” She gestures to the door and I bounce my eyebrows.
“Allow me.” I step around her and knock on the door, waiting patiently for the band manager to open up. The band I found was incredibly agreeable to my plans. Turns out, they’re San Francisco born and raised and huge fans of The Storm. All it took was the promise of six tickets to the season opener, field level, and I had them eating out of my hands.
“Sal, my man.” Nick, the band’s manager, holds his fist out for me to bump it, and I don’t need to look at Keeley to know her eyes are alight with amusement.
“Nick. Thanks for hooking us up tonight. We’re looking forward to it.”
“Anytime, man. Come on in.”
I turn to Keeley, gesturing for her to walk in first, and find her biting back a grin. “Hooking us up?” she mouths, unable to suppress the sparkle in her eyes.
“Shh.” I hold a finger to her lips before grabbing her hand and leading her inside, ignoring the warmth of her palm in mine while we follow Nick as he guides us to the main bar, seating us at a table near the side of the stage.
After a self-introduction to Keeley, one that’s a little flirtier than I would like, Nick disappears backstage and Keeley turns my way.
“We couldn’t line up like everyone else?”
“No.”
