“Sorry,” she says. “As you can see, it’s pretty cramped in there. I’ll be out here with you if you need anything.”
Liam and the others look amused that Ronni’s been put in her place. They are led into the booth and given headphones. They sit around a table with microphones in front of every seat.
Matt, the radio personality, tells the audience he’s got something special in store for them. “I just so happen to have five fascinating people sitting with me in the studio today. This will be the first ever radio interview with this up-and-coming band from New York. Listen to this and then I’ll be back with Reckless Alibi.”
Ronni finds a chair to sit on. “They better not say anything stupid.”
“Relax,” Jeremy says. “Everything will be fine. This show will be syndicated all over the state and even outside of Florida. You’ve been trying to make this happen for months. You did this.”
“Damn right I did. I should be in there.”
“You should be happy, knowing you’re the woman behind the band.”
She picks at a fingernail, then turns her attention to me. “Why are you here?”
“Liam asked me to come.”
Her lips curl in disgust. “Are you his flavor of the week?”
I try not to be snarky. “I told you we’re not dating.”
“But you want to.”
“We’re friends.”
“Right.”
“Give it a rest, Ronni,” Jeremy says. “You don’t have to control everything, you know.”
“Humph,” she grunts and twirls in her chair.
Jeremy points to the booth. “They’re getting started. Let’s listen.”
“Wow,” Matt says. “That’s as hot as a cat on a tin roof. People, if you could see who’s at the table with me, you’d agree that in person they are as amazing as their music. You’re a great-looking bunch.”
The five of them glance at each other. Crew leans in and says, “Uh, thanks.”
Matt laughs. “Humble, too. I like it. Chris Rewey, you’re the lead singer.”
“Co-lead, and you can call me Crew.”
“Right. Sorry. You and Brianna are the lead singers. Give me a rundown of the band. Tell me who you are and what you do.”
“Sure. Like you said, Brianna and I are the singers. We also both play keyboards. I play backup guitar sometimes. We write the lyrics to the majority of our songs. To my right is Liam Campbell, lead guitarist. He puts our lyrics to music. Garrett Young is our drummer and backup singer. Next to him is Brad Templeton, who plays bass.
“That’s it? You play bass?” Matt says. “Only the one job?”
He’s obviously messing with him, but Brad is irritated.
“Playing bass is harder than you think,” Liam says in his defense.
“Sure it is,” Matt says. “So, Crew, how long has Reckless Alibi been together?”
“About four years. Liam, Garrett, and I have been a part of the band from the start. Brad and Bria joined us last year. Brianna used to sing backup for White Poison.”
“Really? Can you tell us about it, Brianna? I hear they’re a wild bunch of Brits.”
“They sure are. I was fortunate to have the opportunity to sing with them.”
Matt nods. “Hmm. A little voice in my ear just told me you used to date Adam Stuart, their lead singer. Is that true?”
Bria appears horrified. Crew grabs her hand and nods. “Yes,” she says. “But not for long. I found out where I really belonged when I met these guys.”
He notices their clasped hands. “You and Crew are together?”
Crew glances through the window at Ronni, who’s making the cutthroat sign and having a minor conniption. “We are.”
Ronni stomps her foot and cusses.
“Brianna, are you just with Crew or …” He smirks at the other men at the table.
She laughs off his insinuation. “I’m a one-man woman, Matt.”
“On that note, here’s another song by Reckless Alibi. We’ll be right back after.”
Ronni is pissed. “When will they ever listen?”
“Nobody cares that they’re a couple,” Jeremy says.
“They do care. I guarantee they’d sell more records and have more fans if women thought they had a chance with him.”
“I think you’re wrong.”
“Well, that’s why you’re the manager, and I’m with the record label. Because I know what’s best for them.” She turns to Melissa. “I want to speak with whoever’s in charge. Personal relationships are not a topic I approved.”
Melissa gestures to Matt. “You’re looking at him.”
Ronni stares into the booth, ready to spit fire.
Jeremy pinches the bridge of his nose, catches me watching, and shrugs.
“Why is she referred to as Brianna?” I ask. “She goes by Bria.”