Page 97 of Dirty Like Brody
Unlikely.
Once everything was ready for the show and the doors opened, the band and the crew, along with Bear, Snake, Maggie and me, and some friends of the band who’d started showing up, headed downstairs for the private VIP treatment. Apparently, Bear and Snake were keeping Misty’s closed tonight, for us, but they had a bartender, a few waitresses and several strippers on hand to take care of ourgroup.
Clearly, Misty’s was where the money was. Even though it was in the basement of the old building that shared the dive upstairs, the strip club had been renovated over the years and both felt and smelled clean. Literally, it smelled of bleach. Which I supposed was a good thing. Everything was shiny, glittery, mirrored and/or pink—including thegirls.
Everyone, especially the scantily-clad female staff, flocked to take care of the guys in the band, treating them like—well, like rockstars.
Maggie was right. My brother—and his friends—did live acharmedlife.
Okay; the modeling biz was pretty sweet too, what with being paid to look pretty and all. But I’d also spent the last ten years of my life dieting, exercising my ass off and, once I’d outgrown my rebellious phase, going to bed early, while my brother partied the night away, drinking, eating and generally doing whatever the fuck he wanted. He worked out a lot, too—he definitely wasn’t born with those washboard abs the girls liked so much—butshit.
It was moments like these that reminded me my brother and his band weren’t just rock stars… they were rockroyalty.
Elle was treated just the same, Snake setting her up with her entourage of girlfriends at a big table in the corner with their ownwaitress.
Maggie sat me at a table with Jimmy and some other people I sort of knew and told me to chill the fuck out, and while she did the rounds, doing whatever Maggie did to keep things organized while everyone else had a good time, Jimmy talked my ear off. I had to admit it was flattering that he never took his eyes off me, all the while a very curvaceous blonde got naked about six feet fromhisface.
I wasn’t quite sure if I was glad that Brody hadn’t shown up yet, since the strippers were doing their thing, but it did make me more nervous. Because where the hell was he? And yes, I was a lingerie model. But yes, it still made me uncomfortable to think of Brody in a room full of strippers. Especially when my nerves were already so raw—and getting rawer with every minute that passed without himshowingup.
There was no way he’d skip out on a Dirty show just because I was here,right?
No. Nofuckingway.
After a while, Roni showed up and joined our table. Katie showed up, as did Ash, along with more friends of the band, gradually filling the seats around us, and I could almost forget we were playing a show tonight; it just felt like we were having a party. Even the strippers became just part of the scene, kind of like sparklycurtains.
For her part, Katie took the entertainment in stride. Though she’d barely been with my brother for six months—hard to imagine when you saw them together, so seemingly in sync all the time—she seemed pretty accustomed to all of this by now. She sat on his lap with a smile on her face, laughing and covering her eyes when the stripper working the pole in front of their table—to a classic Dirty song, “Get Made”—got too close. She sipped her drink and periodically made out with my brother, and not for the first time, I admired her ability to just be herself no matter what was going onaroundher.
It helped my nerves.Abit.
When Brody finally walked in, right before show time, he stopped by the bar to talk to Bear and his wife. He saw me staring; at least, I thought he did, but he looked kind of through me. Maybe he was looking past me, at the naked blonde hanging off the stage, the one Roni was currently misting with a spraybottle.
He definitely looked at Jimmy, who had his arm slung around my shoulders. I was wearing my stage clothes, which meant cute, high-heeled ankle boots, tight jeans and a silver halter top with a low back, and Jimmy was running his thumb back and forth across my bare shoulder. I let him because it was Jimmy and Jimmy was a flirt, but he washarmless.
Brody didn’t seem to find him harmless, though, which just made me more nervous—because now what? He wasmoremad at me? For hanging out with my friends? For letting another guy put his armaroundme?
When he was “done”withme?
He was full of shit, that’s whathewas.
At least he didn’t seem all that interested in the entertainment. Maybe because he’d seen it all before. Maybe because I was in the room? But mostly because he was too busy shooting Jimmy deathlooks.
By the time everyone headed back upstairs for Dirty to start their set—the band and key crew heading backstage, the rest out into the bar to watch the show—I was a wreck of nerves and adrenalin. As the band prepared to take the stage, my anxiety grew; this was definitely not the way I felt backstage at a fashion show. Modeling had never really freaked me out; maybe because I’d started doing it soyoung?
Or maybe because Brody was never there when Ididit.
Truth be told, I was most nervous about playing—and fucking up—in frontofhim.
But it was only one song, right? I was only joining Dirty onstage near the end of the set. Until then, I’d be watching the show from side stage, with Maggie and Katie and Jude. AndBrody.
Fuck.
I knew I could walk out there and strap on my guitar without falling on my face, even in my high heels. I knew I could smile and look like I had my shit together, even if I felt like a hot mess. But what if my fingersshook?
What if I fucked upthesong?
“Just keep playing,” Elle said, when I voiced my concern to her. “Don’t overthink it. Jesse will cover for you if you fuck up and no one will really notice. Whatever you do, just keepplaying.”
“Uh-huh.” That wasn’t making me feel any better. “What if I forget thewords?”
