“How long have you been singing professionally?” I ask.
“This is my first real gig, but I’ve been singing for a long time. I even cut an album. I spent every penny I had, hiring a band and a recording studio, but I couldn’t get my foot in the door. Nobody would listen to it.”
“Yeah, we know how that goes.”
“Do you? Seems to me you’re doing pretty well.” She smiles.
I shake my head. “We’ve been playing bars and county fairs for years. The only reason we’re here is because Liam’s uncle is a bigwig in Stamford. We barely get paid enough to cover our hotel and travel expenses.”
She looks appalled. “How is that even possible?”
“Being able to open for a major band like White Poison—that’s our payment,” Liam says. “The exposure we’re getting is worth more than money at this point. Hell, we’d have played for free. This could finally lead to something for us.”
“Still,” Bria says, “you should be getting paid what you’re worth. From what I’ve heard, you’re worth a lot.”
“Thanks,” Brad says. “That means a lot.”
A waitress puts down glasses of water in front of us and then pulls a pen from behind her ear. “Ready to order?”
One by one, we pick up the menus stuffed behind the napkin dispenser.
“Better give us a minute,” I say.
“How much do you get paid?” Garrett asks Bria as he peruses his menu.
I hiss at him. “That’s pretty personal, don’t you think?”
She laughs. “Let’s just say more than you, but it’ll have to last. In two weeks, when the tour is over, I won’t get any paychecks for a while.”
“Where do you live?” Liam asks.
“New York City.”
“Maybe you could sing with us for a few gigs—you know, to tide you over. The money is better than what we’re getting here.”
I kick him under the table.
“I’m actually going on tour with White Poison again in seven months. They’re going to Europe.”
“You must have really impressed them,” Liam says. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen them with the same backup singer for two tours.”
She shrugs. “I like to think I’ve impressed them, but I’m sure it has to do with my dating Adam.”
She doesn’t seem like the type of girl who would use someone to get what she wants, and I feel sorry for her. Is she so naïve that she doesn’t know he’s screwing around behind her back?
A group of girls come in, and two of them look familiar. They were the ones talking about Adam the other night. They hesitate when they see us sitting with Bria but go on by.
“God, I’m so tired of this cold weather,” the one I think is Aimee says. “Three weeks from now, I’ll be wearing my string bikini on a beach in Fiji. I can’t wait.”
Bria’s eyes widen and get glassy. Her chin quivers.
“What is it?” I ask.
She swallows and dabs at her eyes. “I’m just tired.” She tucks her menu behind the napkin holder. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to the arena.”
“It’s half a mile away,” Garrett says.
“The walk will do me good, and I’ve lost my appetite.” She peers over to where the girls are sitting. “Pre-show nerves still get to me.”
Liam stands to let her out of the booth. “We’ll see you later.”
She nods. “Have a good show.”
“You too.” Liam watches her leave and turns back to us. “What just happened?”
I motion to the table of girls. “I’m pretty sure Adam Stuart is screwing around with one or more of them, and I’d venture a guess that maybe Bria knows it.”
Brad snorts. “She shouldn’t be surprised. He can have anyone he wants.”
I narrow my eyes. “True, but he shouldn’t string her along. That just makes him a douchebag.”
“Do you think he cares what people think of him?” Garrett adds. “He can sit back and count his millions and do whatever the hell he wants.”
“That shouldn’t include hurting people.” I look out the window. Bria shuffles her way down the street. “We should make a pact that we won’t end up like that. You know, the stereotypical band guys who are all assholes with lists of riders longer than my dick.”
“That’d be a short list,” Liam deadpans.
I introduce him to my middle finger. “I get the expensive houses and cars and personal jets, but I think you can have all that and still be a nice person.”
“You’re assuming we’ll make it big one day,” Garrett says.
“Oh, we’ll make it big,” Liam says. “And when we blow White Poison’s record sales