Page 5 of Reverb
The closed door muffled most of the sounds of the band tuning, plunging the hall into relative quiet. Adrian rubbed the back of his neck and looked downright worried when he turned to face David. “I—um.” He dropped his hand. “Look, are you sure about showing Mish the emails?”
Okay, he was not getting chewed out. David nodded. “She should see them. She has every right to know what’s going on, and that her attack wasn’t as random as it seemed. Plus, I think it’ll smooth over my presence here if she understands why Ray and you all are taking this seriously. At this point, she’s the only one who hasn’t seen those messages, right?”
Adrian’s neck was on the red side. “I don’t think Zavier’s seen them. Dominic hasn’t either, but we talk about it sometimes.”
“You really ought to show her, before she kicks all of your asses.”
Adrian’s chuckle was largely embarrassment. “You’ve got our number already.”
He did—and didn’t. “It’s gonna take time. But I’m glad that—” he nodded at the studio door “—went well.”
Adrian gazed at the studio. “I don’t want any of them hurt, you know? I wasn’t there when shit happened to Ray, but Dominic talks about it.” He shook his head. “Anyway. Do you want to show them to Mish, or should I?”
That was a good question. “Maybe I should. I’m more removed both from the situation and the band. If she needs to yell at someone, better it be me.”
“Don’t think she’s going to yell at you.” Adrian glanced at the door again. “But her reaction’s not going to be all that great.”
Well, they’d find out.
They headed back into the studio and listened while the band practiced. Given the intensity and energy, this tour would be even better than their last—which was saying something. They’d already been labeled a must-see touring band. Fans crowded the venues and VIP tickets had sold outfast.
Listening to them now, David could see why that was true. He settled into his seat and flipped through the emails and messages Adrian had forwarded to him. One in particular caught his eye—a candid photo of Mish walking along a sidewalk somewhere in Manhattan. She had sunglasses on. No coat. A black skirt that rode above her knees and bright pink tights paired with a top made up of every color close to red and purple quilted together in a mishmash of shapes. Mish was smiling into the brilliance of the sunny day. Long strides on heels that added two inches to her height.
Yeah, the camera loved her. Loved every member of Twisted Wishes. Beautiful people, all of them.
The text that had accompanied the photo had been chilling, though.
Those tights are too garish for a lady like you. I do not want to see you in them again. I’ll be watching.
Personal. Direct. Whoever this guy was, he was talking directly to Mish.
Yeah, Mish needed to know. From their short interaction, David had a decent idea how she’d react—with a slew of curses. Pretty much what he’d do in the same situation.
He’d never liked anyone dictating what he could wear, who he could be, or how he chose to express himself. That had been a fight all through his youth.
David had swum the waters Mish navigated, knew the danger there. He closed his eyes. This wasn’t going to be an easy job, but then the best ones never were.
So David Altet was going to watch over her. Between rehearsing songs with the band, Mish stole a few looks at him. She’d teased him about his height, but damn if that wasn’t perfect. He wasbuilt, proportioned just right. Muscular without being bulked out. His long face sported a trim beard. Short, dark hair. Lovely brown eyes. Sunglasses hung from a blue T-shirt he’d paired with black jeans.
God only knew how old he was, though. Couldn’t get a sense of that.
But if she was going to be stuck with David, at least he was easy on the eyes. Smart, too. Good for banter.
Still, worry wormed around the back of her mind. The guys,herguys, were keeping her out of the loop on this email and social media nonsense. They weren’t overprotective of her—usually it was the other way around. So this shit must besomething. Which...damn. And fuck, too. Her insides twisted in between sets.
The first thing she’d be demanding of David would be a full accounting of what thefuckwas going on. Better she know than be kept in the dark, despite her well-meaning bandmates. David seemed like the type to be honest with her, and he’d said sheshouldknow. Bonus points in her book.
When lunchtime rolled around, they took a break to eat. There were enough sandwiches forallof them, which meant Ray had planned for David being here. Made sense, but she hated that Ray hadn’t included the entire band on this hiring decision. Worse, she wasn’t sure if he was leaving Dom out, too, or just her.
Yes, they’d all discussed the plans to hire someone, but once upon a time, they’d all have been in on the process. She toyed with the edge of her sub wrapper. The whole thing bothered her enough to say something.
“Hey, kiddo?”
Ray looked up—she only ever used that for him, after all. “Yeah?”
“I’m not liking this ‘being left out of the loop’ thing you’ve got going on.”
Everyone in the room stilled.
