Page 10
Story: The Drummer
Callie’s eager smile seals his fate.
“So there’s this lady with a… What was that thing again? I don’t know, some huge hat and boa thing. Anyway?—”
“Case!” But he can’t be too mad when he turns to Callie with a smile. “She had good intentions.”
Understatement of the century. “She thought he was the one benefiting from the charity because of the ‘dreadful condition of his clothing.’”
Exact quote, if I recall.
“I was wearing three-hundred-dollar jeans and a Julian Salitoni jacket.”
The entire scene springs to life in my head, and I can’t hold in my laughter. The poor woman whining to her friends as if weweren’t standingrightthere. Her tiny dog yelping in her arms like it was desperate to explain what her prejudice was too thick to see.
“Oh man, I just about died when that happened. Dude, she was ready to take you home and give you a hot shower and cot in her living room.”
Luke rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t seem as upset as I would have guessed. He’s probably just glad we’ve moved on to safer topics.
Callie leans back to scan him in an exaggerated appraisal. “I don’t know. I kind of see it. I mean, there’s the messy hair, and the jeans may be three hundred dollars, but they look like they’re one wash away from disintegrating. Your t-shirt could definitely use a bit of mending. I’d slip you a twenty as long as you promised not to buy booze with it.”
Luke smiles—actuallygrins. Wow. How the hell did she do that?
“I never would have promised that,” he replies.
Callie returns his grin before shifting in her chair to give us each a dry onceover. My heart rate picks up when her inquisitive stare slides over me with more than amused interest. She’s supposedly joking as she checks me out, but something tells me she’s also… not.
A long-dead shiver of attraction pierces my awareness.
“Okay, fine, so I’m guessing what I’m supposed to take away from this little tale is that it’s not often you encounter people under seventy-five who don’t know who you are.”
“Only because we don’t have time to come in contact with those people,” I say, then remember where we are and why we’re here. “Well, you do, apparently.”
I kick myself when Luke returns a dark look.
“Alright, fine, so I get it. You’re a super famous rockstar in Night Shifts Black. Then can I ask what you play? Or should I already know that, too?” Callie’s smug expression is so stinkin’cute. She’s even managed to smooth Luke’s sour expression into something more human.
“Now I get why you like her.” I direct the comment at Luke, even though it’s meant for Callie. “She knows nothing about us, does she?”
“Nope,” Luke says with a smile.
Callie tosses her brunette hair over her shoulder and scrunches her face in an adorable pout. “So, what, I’m supposed to grovel at your feet because you’re big rock gods? Sorry if I was the only person on this planet who didn’t know that.”
“No, but now that you know, you should be groveling,” I joke.
“Oh boy.” Luke cowers with mock concern for my safety.
Maybe it’s warranted when she crosses her arms and delivers a challenging look. God, I live for this shit. Luke was right. I’m already in love.
“Really?” she says. “What if I’m an undercover royal princess? Maybe you should be groveling atmyfeet.”
“If you’re really an undercover royal princess, I will. You’d have to prove it, though.”
“Prove you’re in Night Shifts Black.”
Easy enough. I make a dramatic shift toward Luke. “Am I in Night Shifts Black?”
The traitor holds up his hands in surrender. “I’m not getting involved in this one. You’re on your own.”
“You’re not involved. You’re just verifying a fact.”
Table of Contents
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