“Hold it.” Leo holds up a hand, shutting him up and my wide eyes find his before he turns back to the asshole. “You may have forgotten, but it’s never been about the money for me, Rick. It’s the music. The fans love the music. If you have a problem with my girlfriend, I’ll find another manager.”
“I’ve been with you since you were singing in dumpy little clubs in Bothel,” he sputters.
“Yeah, and you’ve gotten greedy.” Leo gets in his face. “Don’t ever disrespect my girl again, Rick. She’s not the problem.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“No, I’m laying it out for you, man. She’s not just one in a long line. Get used to seeing her around.”
Rick glares at me and then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Fine.”
Leo tightens his hand around mine and leads me to the car, settles me into his front seat, and climbs in himself, and speeds away from the studio.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur when I find my voice.
“Why?”
“I don’t want to cause any issues for you.”
He laughs humorlessly and shakes his head. “You are not an issue. Half the guys in the band are married, Sam. Rick’s just an asshole and doesn’t like change.”
“Okay,” I whisper and clasp my fingers in my lap. He’s right. Rick is an asshole. But I really don’t want to be the cause of any issues in the band. In one hour I managed to make Leo jealous, set his drummer straight and piss off his manager.
I’m just a real charmer.
“Stop it,” he murmurs and pulls my hands apart, links his fingers with mine and kisses my fingers. “Trust me, you’re not an issue.”
“Okay,” I mutter and trace the tats on his fingers when he rests our hands in my lap. “Are you excited to get back into the studio?”
“Yeah, it’ll be fun.”
I nod and look out the window. Darkness has fallen. It gets dark quickly in the winter in Seattle.
“So, I don’t think we’re going to make it to dinner before we go to the club.” Leo gives me an apologetic smile. “But I’ll buy you bar food.”
“I love bar food!” Just the thought of it has my stomach growling. “I want potato skins and buffalo wings and nachos.”
“Is that all?” He asks with a laugh.
“And deep fried mozzarella sticks. I’ll share with you.”
“Okay.” He shrugs and laughs again.
“How do you know the band we’re going to see?” I ask.
“I met the lead singer back in the day when I played the Seattle circuit. He’s had opportunities to come to L.A., but his family is here, and he’s content here. I haven’t seen him in years.”
“Cool. Are they good?”
“Pretty good, yeah. They do mostly covers, but they throw in some original stuff too.”
“Does he know you’re coming?”
“Yeah, I called him the other day.” Leo frowns and glances at me.
“What?”
“I’ll probably be recognized tonight.”
“I figured. You’re not in your usual disguise.” I snicker and kiss his hand.
“You’re okay?”
I love that he’s worried about me.
“I’m fine.”
“Really?” He looks surprised.
“I don’t trust the fame,” I remind him. “You know this. But it’s part of who you are. I’m excited to go listen to the band with you. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay, thank you.”
He parks, pulls his beanie low so it covers his eyebrow and exhales deeply. “Here goes nothing, sweetheart. Let’s go get your bar food.”
“Don’t touch my nachos.”
Chapter Twelve
“I’ll open your door,” Leo pins me with a firm look. “Wait for me.”
I frown and watch him pull himself out of the car and walk around the front end to my door. He pulls it open and grasps my hand firmly, pulling me close to his side.
Two tall, bulky men are standing stoically on the sidewalk, waiting for us.
“This is Stan and Henry. They’re security for tonight,” Leo murmurs and turns to the men. “You don’t let her out of your sight, ever. Got it?”
“Got it, sir,” Stan replies and they both nod.
“Uh, Leo…” I look up at him with a frown. “Is this necessary?”
“Yes,” he replies and cups my cheek in his hand. “It’s a packed house, and I won’t take any chances with your safety.”
Jesus, it’s then it occurs to me that I’m out with Leo Nash. Lead singer and founder of the worldwide sensation Nash. I’m not out with Leo, my boyfriend.
Oh boy.
“Okay.” I smile at him reassuringly and pat his chest with my free hand. “Lead the way.”
He nods at his security guys, and one leads us in and the other walks in behind us. The band has just begun playing a cover of a Nirvana song. It’s still early in the set. The music hits us like a wall as we walk into the large club. The stage is big and in the far back. Most of the patrons are gathered around the stage, drinks in the air, dancing and enjoying the music.
Leo leads me to a booth in the main bar area with a full view of the stage, motions for me to slide in and then joins me, sitting beside me rather than across from me. The security guys sit at an empty table right next to us.
“What can I get you?” A waitress yells above the music.
Leo raises an eyebrow at me. “I’ll take a dirty martini.”
He smirks and gives the waitress my order, along with a beer for himself and all of the bar food I want. He grips my hand in his and kisses my knuckles and smiles down at me. “Do you like Nirvana?”
“Do I live in Seattle?” I respond and wrinkle my nose at him. “Duh.”
He laughs and we settle in and watch the band, the people milling about. No one is paying us any attention, and I can’t help but think that hiring security was a bit over the top.
No one even cares that we’re here.
Our drinks and food arrive and Leo leans in to yell into the waitress’s ear. She smiles and nods and turns away.
“What did you say to her?” I ask loudly and shove a delicious potato skin piled with sour cream into my mouth.
“You’re so classy.” He laughs and wipes a glob of sour cream from my lip.
“I know.” I shrug and keep eating.