We both wore boots, joking that we should trade for the evening—and knowing that it would be a genuine disaster if we did. There was no way he could have fit those big feet of his into my tiny boots. His just served to make him even sexier, providing just a hint of cowboy to his already-perfect appearance.
After everything was done, we headed into the limo and got comfortable. Jack's equipment was already at the venue, so he didn't need to bring anything along.
Something already told me that tonight would change my life—but at that point, I wasn't quite sure how.
Chapter 22
There was already a line in front of the venue when we arrived, three hours prior to doors opening. Jack had to do a sound check and an abbreviated final run through. Lexy's name was on the marquee above the venue and Jack grinned when he noticed it.
We pulled up behind the venue, entering from a side door that was off-limits to concert-goers. There was a long alley behind the building, one that was fairly desolate and industrial given the part of town we were in.
Jack left me in the lounge as he readied himself for the night, privy to all sorts of tasty snacks and DIY cocktails. I poured myself a rum and Coke and got comfortable.
The primary A&R person at the label, Karla, showed up shortly after I did. She was a couple years older than me, pretty and fiercely enthusiastic, her auburn hair usually styled differently every day. Tonight, it was straightened and flowing along her bare shoulders. I was glad to see someone else in a dress.
We joked around about work stuff, the muffled roar of the sound check in the background as we talked. "This is gonna be awesome," Karla said, as excited as she always was. I didn't know how she did it. Caffeine abuse, maybe?
"I'm really excited too." It was no lie. I had been to shitty shows before, and this was no shitty show.
"A bunch of stuck-up press people are gonna be here too. I can't stand those assholes."
I nodded, not really sure what to say.
"You just wait. Someone will drag Jack through the mud just to be cool, to be controversial and edgy. He'll be furious when he reads the scathing review, and then ten seconds later, he'll be over it."
I nodded. "Oh, yeah. He told me about those people."
"They'll all stand back here sipping cocktails, acting like they really give a damn. But it's just because pretending to give a damn is their job. Anyway, I should shut up. Let's just have a good time. More drinks?"
I was okay with that.
We continued to drink until Jack came back and joined us with Lexy and the rest of the band. She sat down beside Karla and me, pouring herself a bourbon on the rocks.
Everyone was goofing around and having a good time backstage. I didn't get every inside joke, but I was okay with that. And thankfully, no one was doing any drugs.
Jack sat next to me, but only for a short while. When he got up to make me a fancy cocktail, everyone else noticed and collectively asked him for their own fancy drinks. Jack just groaned and laughed, turning back to the bottles of liquor and getting to work.
Everyone served, he sat back down and relaxed. "I might be too tired to perform now."
"I hope that's not the case when we get home tonight," I whispered in his ear. He gave me a wicked smile and said nothing further.
The party continued until finally, it was show time. Jack stood up and hugged me. "Here we go," he said happily.
"Figuratively break a leg," I said, my words a little slurred from the alcohol. I was drunker than I had intended, but then again, Jack was the one feeding me the drinks.
Karla and I walked back out to the venue ahead of the band—I had somehow managed to convince her to join me in the seats—I was amazed when we didn't see a single open seat in the house outside of the front row that was roped off for us. A total transformation from the empty interior we had seen earlier.
Everyone was laughing and talking, all excited to see the main event: Lexy Brown featuring The Jack Teller Band.
I didn't pay to get in like they did, but that didn't mean I was any less thrilled about the show. I couldn't believe how many photographers were there, scrambling around