Page 53 of Sure Shot
“This again?” I argue, bracing one of the panels a little more firmly as someone screws it into the stud. “I didn’t understand the deal I was making when I asked you to be my agent. I need to renegotiate our contract.”
“No.” She lifts her chin defiantly.
“But I’m your Kryptonite,” I point out. “You should be fainting right now. I could carry you out of here and back to my hotel room.”
Bess lifts her eyes to the ceiling. “That’s not happening, stud. And I hope nobody can read lips.”
“Let’s see if they can.” I turn my face a couple of degrees, so that I’m framed in the window. “Let’s get naked again and have lots and lots of sex.”
Since Bess’s hands are busy bracing the panels, she has to resort to kicking me gently in the shin. “Stop that. It won’t work, anyway.”
“It’s not nice to kick your client.”
“That wasn’t a real kick,” she says, her bright eyes full of fire. “If I kicked you for real, you’d be crying right now.”
“Uh-huh.” My face cracks into a smile, which is something that only happens when Bess is nearby. I don’t think I smiled for three months before she turned up. “But what are you going to do about it?”
“About what?” she asks.
“Aboutus.” I give her a hot glance. “You think you can just ignore me forever? I don’t think I’m that good an actor.”
“Tank,” she says gently. “We’re in a different place in life, you and me. I can’t be your rebound girl. The sex is great—”
“Amazingis the word I’d choose,” I break in. “And please don’t feel guilty about us just because I’m a player. If you feel guilty, then I’ll have to feel guilty. And I don’t want to feel guilty because I really like spending time with you.”
“It’s not just the professional issues.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know what to think about the little…habit we’re developing. You’re on the rebound. You aren’t thinking with yourbrain, Tank. Hell—you don’t even use condoms.”
Oh Jesus. Bess must think I’m an idiot. “Okay. Hold up. I’m really sorry about the condom thing.”
“I’m covered, Tank. I am not going to get pregnant. But you’re not in a place to—”
That’s when Silas suddenly opens the door to the booth. “You kids okay in here?” he asks. “I think we’ve got it pretty tight now.”
“Uh, great,” I mumble, stepping out of the booth. Bess follows me, her eyes full of unresolved tension.
We need to finish our conversation, but obviously we’ll need to do it somewhere else.
“Wow, I can’t believe it’s done!” Delilah cries, taking in the finished booth. “It looks amazing!”
“Take it for a trial run, honey,” Silas says. “Grab your electric guitar and let ’er rip.”
Delilah runs out of the room, coming back a few moments later with a guitar and a little amp. “I’m going to keep turning up the volume. Can you wave at me when you can hear the guitar?”
“Sure, babe.” Silas plugs in her amp and then leaves the booth, closing her in there.
Delilah’s smile shines through the window as she tunes up her guitar.Can you hear this?she mouths.
We all shake our heads. She’s playing the guitar in earnest now.
“This is the worst concert ever,” Georgia complains. “She’s right there and I can’t hear a thing.”
Finally Delilah reaches a volume whereby we can hear it faintly outside the booth, and Silas waves with two hands to tell her.
“Wow,” the singer says, opening the door. “I thought I was going to break my eardrums before you could hear it.”
“Now play it out here,” Georgia demands. “Please?”
“I thought we were headed to the wine bar?” Delilah says. “I promised to buy drinks.”
