“You okay?” Zach asked Trent as the last drunk crumpled to the ground.
“Fine. You?”
“Never better.”
They turned to look at her, and Bree let out the breath she’d been holding. “Great. We should go before they get up. Or someone calls the police.” She headed toward the car, guitar case in hand, and placed it in the trunk before she went around and got into the driver’s seat. She wasn’t sure how much Trent had had to drink and felt better driving herself.
The two men shook hands, and she half wished Zach would come over so she could tell him goodbye. Instead, he kept his distance and gave her a little wave. She waved back, and he disappeared into the night, a shadow in the alley.
Trent was shaking out his hand, and she imagined it hurt but also figured that might teach him a lesson not to start fights at her shows. She figured he’d try to get her to move so he could drive, but he simply handed over the keys.
Bree started the vehicle and backed out of the parking spot, not wanting to talk about any of it. She hoped Trent wouldn’t bring it up, and they could just drive home in peace.
They were almost to her apartment when he said, “I’m sorry, Bree. I wasn’t thinking about anything other than keeping you safe.”
“Yet, what you did actually put me in danger.”
“I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you.”
“What if Zach hadn’t showed up? What if you would’ve had to take those guys on all by yourself? They would’ve beat the shit out of you.”
“I would’ve figured it out.”
“You’re an accountant, Trent, not an MMA fighter.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? That because I’m an accountant, I can’t protect you? I handled those assholes pretty good.”
“I didn’t mean that. I was just saying… two of them, okay. But not four.”
“They were so drunk, I could’ve knocked them over by myself.”
She pulled her eyes off of the road to look at him for a second but didn’t say more. If that’s what he really thought, he was in for a rude awakening the next time he tried something like that. If he ever did it again.
“I’m sorry, Bree.” He reached for her hand, and she gave it to him. “I don’t want to fight with you.”
“I don’t want to fight with you either, but please promise me you won’t do that again, okay? Let me handle my own business.”
“Okay.”
But there was something about his tone that made her think he didn’t mean it.
Bree let out a sigh and turned onto the street where her apartment was. It was late, and she was tired. How had she gone from the high of her first experience with him to wanting to smack him all in the span of a few hours? All she knew was she wanted to go in and go to sleep. If he expected make-up sex, it was out of the question.
As she attempted to get out of the vehicle, Trent grabbed her arm and pulled her over, pressing his lips to hers. His touch, his scent, the taste of him…. Suddenly, she forgot how angry she was and all she wanted was for him to take her inside and show her just how sorry he was.
Sitting in the sound room, Bree found herself nervously wiping her hands on her floral skirt. She had no idea why she was so anxious when she wasn’t the one auditioning, but she felt as if her heart might beat right out of her chest.
Trent had opted not to come to the callback. Bree would be lying if she said she wasn’t at least a little relieved. As much as she appreciated having him involved in her work whenever reasonably possible, the situation at the club the other night had unnerved her to some degree. It wasn’t the last show they’d gone to together, and Trent had stayed out of it when another heckler was shouting at her a few nights later at an equally seedy joint, but Bree was glad he wasn’t with her today.
For obvious reasons, she couldn’t quite get herself to admit to.
Her eyes flickered over the line up for callbacks. They were expecting to see ten different musicians that day, two for each instrument they planned to have as part of the band, though it was a plus that some of the artists played more than one instrument. Bree was particularly interested in hiring a rhythm guitar player who also played the fiddle since Bree could play rhythm herself. She had mentioned it to the others when they’d first started talking about who they might want in the band, but Alvin assured her it was fine if she wanted to play, too. “I’ve never heard of a band with too many guitars,” he joked.
Bree didn’t want to play on every song anymore if she didn’t have to. She loved singing and thought she was a better vocalist when she wasn’t playing. It allowed her to concentrate on the melody more. But she would miss it if she didn’t play guitar at all. And there was something to be said for a good fiddle player.
When the first musician came in, she put her thoughts aside and concentrated. It was Cat, the keyboardist, who also played a few other instruments, including the fiddle, but Bree didn’t necessarily want someone who had to choose between those two instruments since the keyboard was so important to the band whereas the fiddle would only be played on a song now and again. She liked the fact that Cat could sing, too.
Cat’s audition went very well, and Bree had a feeling she’d be the one they chose to play keyboards. She hoped she was as nice as she looked; the last thing Bree wanted was a woman in her band that she couldn’t get along with.
Kell came in next to play guitar and did a great job. He was also strong vocally. She saw the others nodding their heads when he was finished. He seemed like a nice enough guy and was definitely very talented. It wouldn’t be so bad if he was the one they chose for lead guitar.
Except for the fact that he wasn’t Zach.