Page 14 of Dirty Like Jude
“In terms of the venue itself,” she added, ignoring my sarcasm, “someplace with a similar capacity to the Ruby would probably be ideal. And I know Brody never approves of a venue without Jude’s okay. Security has to meet his specifications. So you’ll have to go over all of that with him, Iguess.”
Right.
Jude.
“Ofcourse.”
“I think security’s gonna be extra tight at this one. When Brody said no media, he really meant no media. He wants this to be a special night for the fans. For the band and for Elle. So, I guess what I’m saying is… You’d be a total idiot not to take the opportunity to be a part of this, Roni. If you pull it off, they’ll really love you forit.”
She was right,probably.
And it would be a special night, clearly. For all ofthem.
Forme?
I felt it sinking in; what this could be, for me. The pivotal event of my career. The event that took me from part-time party pusher to toppromoter.
On the other hand, if I fucked it up, I could jeopardize everything I’d worked for these last three years—mainly my reputation, which was basically everything in my line of work. Not to mention potentially burning bridges—professionally, maybe even personally—with Dirty, with Brody, with whatever venue owner I might rope intothis.
WithJude?
I didn’t want this to be a factor in my decision-making, but there it was, nagging at the back of mymind…
If I fucked this up, would it also burn my bridge withJude?
Granted, the bridge between us was a long-ass, rickety old bridge that wove in and out of the dark like a confuseddrunkard.
But it was a bridge all thesame.
Despite whatever had happened between the two of us, I knew that if I ever called Jude up in the middle of the night asking for help, he would come. It was his nature, no matter how he felt aboutme.
Which meant that no matter what came of this event, Jude would still pull my ass out of a burning building; he’d do that for pretty muchanyone.
No matter, even, if I totally fucked thisup.
“Okay,” I told Jessa. “I’ll doit.”
Because professionally—hopefully—it was worth therisk.
And as far as Jude Grayson was concerned, there really was no risk atall.
Jude didn’t care about me anyway. He wasn’t about to magicallystart.
Chapter Four
Jude
8:09 am.
The clock startsticking.
The automatic gate rolled aside and I eased the Bentley into Jesse’s driveway, parking alongside the sunshine-yellow Jeep he’d bought for Katie last year, to get her off her skateboard. We’d both tried to talk her out of her vehicle selection, but the girl wanted what she wanted—it was a Jeep, a used Jeep, or she kept the skateboard as her transportation method ofchoice.
Shewon.
Honestly, Katie usuallywon.
When she answered the front door in her paint-splattered jeans and Blondie T-shirt, a bandana in her dark hair and a smile on her rosy-cheeked face, it was easy to seewhy.
