Page 6 of Full Tilt
“Sure, I’m fine. Totally.”
“Where were you?”
“Oh, I… I called my parents.”
Lola’s shoulders slumped and she covered her eyes with one hand. “Oh shit, no. No, no, no. I keep telling you to give it up. It always bites you in the ass, Kace. Every time. You get all upset, then you get even more wasted than usual.”
“No, no, it was great!” I said. “I only talked to my mom but… Well, my dad said hi. I heard him in the background. That’s a start, right?”
Is this where you’re at?Lying to your best friend after all that she’s done for you?
Lola looked shocked. “Really? He talked to you?”
“He said hi, Lola. He really did.”
Lola studied me through narrow eyes and finally relented.
“That’s great, Kace,” she said, hugging me. “I’m really happy for you. To be honest, I’ve been worried lately. You party twenty-four-seven and have a different guy in your bed every night.”
“Noteverynight,” I said. “I have my dry spells. Like Tuesday.”
Lola snorted.
“Let’s go, girls,” Jimmy reappeared at the door. “They’re waiting.”
I flashed Lola a reassuring smile. “We’re going to kick ass at this show tonight. I promise.”
“I wish you’d promise not to party so fucking hard afterward. Maybe you’d be able torememberhow kick-ass the show was.”
I pretended to be affronted. “That is the least rock and roll thing I’ve ever heard in my life. Keith Richards would roll over in his grave if he heard you talk like that.”
A smile twitched Lola’s lips. “Keith Richards isn’t dead.”
“See? Nothing to worry about.”
She rolled her eyes and laughed, slinging her arm around me. Protectively, as always.
Hugo Williams, the Pony Club’s head of security, appeared at the green room door to escort us to the stage. His dark eyes were warm and kind as he smiled at me, his teeth white and bright against the dark of his skin.
“Hey, Hugo,” I said, as we filed out.
“Hey, sweets,” he said in his deep baritone.
This was only our second night at the Pony Club but Hugo seemed extra considerate of me, going out of his way to make sure I felt safe.
Jimmy slung an arm over my bare shoulders. “Sounds like a rowdy crowd tonight, Hugo.”
I smiled up at the bodyguard. “Hugo’ll take care of me. He’s my hero.”
The big bodyguard nodded, like a soldier given an order, and led us to the stage. We took winding back hallways with pipes running along the ceiling. Our footsteps clapped and echoed on the cement.
Jimmy turned to me. “You ready?”
“Born ready, Jimmy.”
“That’s my girl.”
I joined my bandmates at a short flight of stairs that led to the stage. A roar went up—the crowd responding to the MC taking the mic.
