Never thought I’d see the day when we desired someone so much. And I didn’t mean just her PR services.
“Okay, guys,” she said, pulling a notebook out of her bag, and smiling as we each took note of the strappy dress that showed off her beautiful shoulders.
“The limo picks us up in fifteen. Let’s go over today’s event one more time. Our first Arianna’s Pantry fundraiser, named after Ennis’s sister, is being held at The Grove. Dirty Bandit will play a short show for an admission of twenty dollars per head plus one can of donated food. We’ll get there, do a press conference, warm up with the rest of the band, and be back home in time for dinner.”
Even while my breath hitched at the mention of my little sister’s name, I wondered what had we done all these years without Coral. Bryan had tried to set up promos for us from time to time, but he wasn’t a details guy and so many things always went wrong that each time we vowed never to do one again.
No wonder we’d earned ourselves such a shitty reputation.
After a brief on-stage rehearsal, where I was pleased to find that Coral did not wear her noise-canceling headphones, we sat in a trailer that had been set up as a dressing room.
“So, you give any thought to our proposal yesterday?” Hugh asked, looking directly at her.
No beating around the bush, there. Hugh was usually a little more subtle. Maybe he’d been hanging around Stone too much.
But I was dying for an answer too. I couldn’t deny it.
“I… I’m still thinking about it,” she said, a pink blush washing over her pretty face. “I need some time.”
I nodded. Hugh was pushing it, but I also knew he was eager. We all were.
“Take your time, baby. It’s not every day a bunch of rock ’n roll assholes want to share you,” I said, trying to lighten things up.
Coral laughed, happy the tension was broken, and jumped to her feet. “Well. It’s show time. We’re starting with the press, you’ll play, and then we’re done. Are we good?”
We looked at each other and nodded.
Coral opened the trailer door and called to Bryan. “We’re ready.”
I looked past her and saw a gaggle of about twenty-five or so journalists and photographers. Just in front of the trailer was a table big enough for us three guys, and microphones for each of us.
We grabbed our seats, and Coral started, with all eyes on her. “Friends, thank you for helping spread the word about Arianna’s Pantry, Dirty Bandit’s new philanthropic foundation. We’re kicking things off today with a beautiful outdoor concert here at The Grove, and we’re really excited to see where it takes us.”
Damn, she was good. And good-looking, with that red hair fluttering in the warm breeze. Later, when we got her home…
Down boy.
“Before you get started interviewing the guys, I want to address a couple bits that have been floating around the rock world regarding Dirty Bandit.” She looked over at us and smiled. I had no idea where she was going with things, but it didn’t matter. I trusted her.
She looked down at her hands and took a deep breath. I didn’t know if it was just for effect or actually sincere, but it grabbed everyone’s attention.
“The band, Dirty Bandit,” she paused, looking at the three of us one-by-one, “have never been angels. They live by their own rules—for better or for worse.”
A titter spread through the crowd.
She smiled. “But the story about Stone, that vicious rumor started by the Good Day New York program, is false. Completely false and invented by someone with an axe to grind.”
I followed her gaze over the audience and heard her falter for a split second. But she kept right on going after a sip of her water.
She’d been looking way in the back, at the creepy photographer guy she’d told us she was concerned about. He wore a red baseball cap and a strange smirk on his orange fake-tan face. Occasionally, he picked up his camera, adjusted his super-long lens, and took a few snaps.
I nudged Stone who followed my gaze. “Red cap,” I murmured.
He looked over the crowd and gave a slow nod, so discreet that not even Hugh on the other side of him noticed.
“The important thing is that today we’re kicking off the foundation named after Ennis’s sister, Arianna, whom he tragically lost a few years ago. Ennis, would you like to say a few words?”
Fuck. I stood, the lump building in my throat. I thought I’d be okay. Surely after all this time I could talk about Arianna without losing my shit, right?
Wrong.
Chapter 36
ENNIS
I cleared my throat. “Thank you, everyone, for coming today. As the guys here will tell you”—I motioned to Stone and Hugh—“losing Arianna changed everything about my life. Years later, it’s still hard to talk about her.” My voice broke.
Goddammit.
“I’ve wanted to do something to honor her for a while and was never sure what that should look like, until now. When someone suggested a foundation dedicated to one of her most passionate interests—childhood hunger, I realized I’d found the perfect project. Luckily for me, my bandmates were on board. So, thank you, Stone and Hugh, for believing in Arianna the way I do, and Coral, another hometown girl on this journey with us, for your support, and for making this a reality.”
Coral tilted her head and nodded, like the guys did.
Whew. Got that out of the way.
The usual barrage of questions came flying at all of us, but there was one designed, I had no doubt, to throw Stone off track. It didn’t work.
“Stone, if you weren’t with that underage girl, what were you doing that night? Can you tell us? That would certainly get you off the hook,” one of the reporters asked.
Stone took the mic. “Fair question, and I’ve been grappling with answering that myself. You see, I was playing poker that night. Unfortunately, it was an illegal game, so I’ve been pretty quiet about it. For obvious reasons, I can’t divulge the names of anyone else who was there.”
“So basically, no one can vouch for where you were that night.”
He pressed his lips together and slowly shook his head. “No one so far.”
A chatty buzz spread through the group, with a couple people shaking their heads in disbelief.
Coral had been right. You do all the good things you can, and people still focus on the one negative thing, true or not.
“Okay, everybody, Dirty Bandit needs to head up to the stage now. Looks like they’ve got a full house. Thank you for coming, supporting our cause, and we hope you enjoy the show,” Coral said.
As soon as she’d handed the technician her mic, she shot through the slowly dispersing crowd, heading straight for the guy with the red cap. When he saw her coming his way, he picked up his pace away from the event.
But she caught up with him, anyway. And he got right her face.
If there was one thing I hated, it was dudes who thought they could intimidate women to get them to back down.
I caught up to them, dodging several reporters’ questions on the way.
“Is there a problem here?” I asked, extending my hand to the man. “I don’t think I caught your name.”