Page 84 of Wicked Angel
She fumed. “Is it so uncomfortable for you to have someone, a woman, your sister’s annoying friend, helping you, and for you to not have the upper hand? Is that it? It makes you feel like a ‘loser’ to need something from me, so you keep trying to drag me into your well of shame? I am not ashamed of needing help that night. But I don’t need you. Fire me if you want. I’ll be okay.” She turned to look out the window.
“I know you will.”
“You’d be fine without me, too. You don’t need me. You just refuse to fix your shit yourself, so you want to pay someone else to do it.”
“That may be true.”
She turned back to me, looking stunned that I’d agreed with her.
After a moment, she went on. “I can’t fix you, Johnny. You have to do the work. I can lead a rock star to water, but I can’t make him drink. And I definitely can’t make people forget all the slutty, arrogant, selfish shit you’ve done. Not if you don’t stop doing it.”
My gaze drifted down to her lip, where she bit down a little, like she was suddenly nervous I’d be mad. And maybe fire her for it. “Tell me how you really feel.”
“That is how I feel,” she said in a small voice.
No. That’s wasn’t all of it.
But it was a start.
“I hope you’re a better publicist than you are a liar,” I told her. Then I reached into the bar compartment for the Champagne and poured us both a drink.
ChapterFifteen
Johnny
When the limo driver opened the door for us in front of Champagne nightclub, my sister was already talking to some people she knew on the sidewalk. I followed Angeline out of the limo and walked her in past the velvet rope, up the short red carpet that had been rolled out.
Jude Grayson, Dirty’s head of security, stood near the door with a group of guys; an imposing figure, even among all the bouncers. Jude was a biker, a member of Lex’s motorcycle club, the West Coast Kings. When I caught his eye, he lifted his chin to me and offered his hand. “Johnny.”
“Jude. Nice place,” I remarked, though I hadn’t seen the inside yet. The grand entrance had been renovated, and the bouncers wore pressed black slacks and collared black shirts with the embroidered club logo, setting the tone for the dress code. I could already hear the music thumping. No doubt Summer, a former DJ herself, would’ve had a top DJ booked. I really didn’t have to step inside to know what I was in for. “Dylan and Elle have outdone themselves.”
“They have.” Jude’s dark gaze slid to the woman at my side. “Angeline.”
“Hey, Jude.” I watched as they hugged each other. Not only was Jude in charge of Dirty’s security, which meant Elle’s, he was Flynn’s boss. I wondered what he thought of Elle’s sister standing next to me. And if Flynn was gonna hear about it, the second our backs were turned. “Is my sister here?” she asked him.
“She’s here, darlin’.” Jude’s dark gaze slid back to me, assessing.
“Great. See you inside!” Angeline turned to head inside, and I followed with a parting nod at Jude, my hand settling on her lower back.
“He does not like you showing up with me,” I said in her ear.
“Well, good thing he’s not my daddy, either.” She smiled prettily at me, just as Shayla suddenly caught up to us, grabbed on to her and tore her away. The next thing I knew, they were gone. Disappeared into the crowded club.
When I tracked down Angeline, like half an hour later, I pulled her aside. I’d been mingling, and while there were easily a dozen tables where I knew people and could’ve sat down, I was already sick to death of the tone of conversation. Everyone either wanted to commiserate over my recent “loss” or casually probe me for the inside dirt on my band breakup. And whether or not Brianna and I were now an item.
The Johnny/Brianna/JC love triangle headlines seemed to have suckered a lot of people in. Even people who should’ve known better. Not only was there no love between Brianna and me, according to what I’d heard—from Noah, not the media—she and JC had parted ways, too.
I leaned into Angeline, even as she tried to keep her body a respectable distance from mine. Hard to have a private conversation, even in a loud nightclub. “I thought we were attending this event together. You know, you being my not-friend, not-date, publicist person.”
“We are. We attended. You said you weren’t showing up alone. You didn’t. Objective achieved.”
“Literally, one person saw us arrive together.”
“Who, Jude? Oh, he’ll be telling my sister,” she noted grimly. “Don’t worry.”
“Let’s go say hi to whoever we need to and get out of here.”
She frowned. “Why? What’s the rush?”
