Page 5 of Mr. Not Nice Guy

“Yeah,” she echoes with a quiet sigh, her gaze flitting aimlessly for a second as though she’s pondering, and then she turns to Brennan. “What was the name of that club Luke was talking about on Sunday? Remember? He mentioned a young woman he saw there who has a serious set of pipes and all original songs.”

His dark brows draw together as he appears to rack his brain, and then releases her waist to slip his phone out of his pocket. “I can’t remember. Let’s ask him.”

With my pleasant exterior expertly intact, I wave my hand. “I can call him, Brennan. You don’t need to trouble yourself with that.”

Brennan chuckles as he thumbs the screen, and a call begins ringing on speaker. “I know, but I enjoy troubling him.”

Liza and I join his casual laughter like the three of us are old chums, but the only real chums around here are Liza, Brennan, Luke, and everyone else employed at this record label, and I’m still just the outsider from New York City. The yankee who still doesn’t quite fit in with their unique NOLA culture or their familial closeness, and probably never will.

Sometimes I wonder why I’m even here at all. Especially since I still haven’t bagged myself another unicorn.

“What up, Riley?” Luke’s voice crows over the speaker.

“Corporal,” Brennan barks with put-on ferociousness, and have I mentioned he and Luke are also Marine Corps combat veterans? Yet another thing that solidifies the ties that bind them and exclude me. “Why aren’t you at the label today? What the fuck are you doing?”

Luke scoffs. “I told y’all, Chloe and I have to take Isabel for her one-month well-check, so I’m taking the day off.”

Liza offers Brennan an enamored grin at the mention of Luke and his wife, Chloe’s, brand new baby, and I’m sure they will end up pregnant, too, any day now.

I smile placidly, waiting for the pertinent information to provide me with another lead, and yes.

Babies and weddings and yay for all of them.

Brennan returns Liza's lovey-dovey expression as he wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her against his torso, holding the phone out to one side. “I’m just fucking with you.” He pauses, and I see him leaning toward her face for a kiss, so I politely avert my eyes, and get to the fucking point so I can leave already. “Hey, remember you were talking about that singer on Sunday? The girl with the original set?”

“Yep,” Luke says.

“Where’d you see her?”

“Uhhhh…hmm…” There’s a brief pause before the sound of him snapping his fingers cracks over the speaker. “Chickie’s. That rickety joint way over on the edge of the Seventh Ward, not quite to the Fairgrounds. It’s on North Broad.”

I pick up a pen and scrawl the information down on a post-it.

“I heard she’s there nightly,” Luke continues, “I could go tomorrow night if you want me to chat her up.”

“Hey, Luke. It’s August,” I speak up, still pleasant, “No need for that. If she plays nightly, I think I’ll swing by this evening.”

Liza sucks in an excited gasp and clutches the sleeves of Brennan’s tailored designer suit jacket. “We should all go!” She smiles brightly at him and then looks at me, hopelessly oblivious to how obnoxious literally all of this is for me. “Wouldn’t that be fun? We haven’t all gone to a show in a while, and if she’s promising, we could talk to her together.”

That is the last fucking thing I feel like doing with my evening, but there’s no way to politely decline, and—again—what Liza wants, Liza gets.

I offer her a cordial nod. “Sounds fun, indeed.”

“I can’t go tonight,” Luke pipes back up. “I promised Chloe I’d cook.”

Brennan exhales an exasperated sigh as he grabs a fistful of Liza’s hair, drawing it through his palm and smiling at her. “Always with the excuses, Corporal.”

“Shut the fuck up, Riley,” Luke clips.

“He’s just playing with you, Luke,” Liza says with a small laugh, and then swats Brennan’s ass, so I turn back to my screen.

Fuck. Me. Sideways.

I kind of fucking hate this place.

“Kiss Chloe and that baby girl for me,” she adds while I scroll mindlessly.

“Will do. See y’all tomorrow.”

---