Reckless Obsession (The Reckless Rockstar Series) - Samantha Christy Page 0,81

listening to you reminisce.”

“Tell me about your band,” Mallory says. “How long have you been singing with them?”

“Most of this year. To be honest, it’s kind of scary.”

“How do you mean?”

“We’re doing a lot of shows. Nowhere big, mostly bars and clubs. But our songs are on the radio now, and we’re playing at SummerStage next month. People are starting to recognize us. I’m a little nervous about losing who we are and where we came from.”

Mallory nods and glances at Chad. “That’s all too easy to do.”

“Case in point—Adam Stuart,” he says.

“That’s not going to happen to us,” Crew says, and I nod agreement.

Chad refills wine glasses. “It’s easy to go down the wrong road when everything is being handed to you on a silver platter. I imagine it’s even worse in the music business. There is a lot of truth to the saying ‘sex, drugs, and rock and roll.’ I saw it happen to Adam and a lot of actors. If you’re smart and stay grounded, you can navigate the waters. Don’t let it mess up what’s important to you, and I’m not talking about the music. That's part of who you are, but your relationships are what define you.”

“You say that like you have personal experience,” Crew says.

“I do.”

Mallory smiles at him. “Let’s just say we missed out on a lot of years, but we’re good now. You can have fame, and everything that goes along with it, and still lead a relatively normal life.”

The wait staff is snapping photos of Chad from the kitchen doorway.

“First rule is don’t let that bother you,” Chad says. “If you pretend they aren’t there, you’ll enjoy your evening a whole lot more. Be nice to the fans. Sign autographs and pose for pictures, but make your personal time your own. Never let your ego get too big for your head.”

“You okay?” Mallory asks, looking at my anxious hands.

“Honestly? I still can’t believe I’m sitting here with Thad Stone.”

“Well, get over it. He has his moments, but deep down, he’s just like the rest of us. He snores. He leaves his socks on the floor. The bathroom stinks after he’s used it.”

“Seriously?” Chad says to her.

I chuckle. “Nope. I don’t believe it. Thad Stone’s poop can’t possibly stink.”

“Don’t get caught up in all the bullshit,” he says. “At the end of the day, it’s just a job.”

The waiter brings three separate bills, but Chad takes them all. “Just because I said all that shit doesn’t mean you can’t be extravagant once in a while. If you’ve got it, share it.”

“Thank you so much,” I say. “I can’t tell you what a pleasure it’s been meeting you both.”

Someone comes to the table. “Mr. Stone, there’s a crowd out front. When you’re ready I will escort you out the back door if you like.”

“We’d appreciate that,” Chad says.

They get up, and Mallory hugs Emma, then leans over and hugs me. “I just bought your albums with my phone. I can’t wait to say I knew you when.”

After they leave, I say, “Did that really happen?”

“It did.” Brett turns to Emma. “You’ve been holding back. I didn’t know you knew such influential people.”

“Oh, like you aren’t friends with half the New York Nighthawks?”

Crew shakes his head. “Your collective list of friends reads like the who’s who of New York.”

“And it looks like we’re about to add a few rock stars to that list,” Emma says. “I have a feeling fame and fortune are right around the corner for you.”

We almost make it out the front door and then Crew tells me he left his phone at the table.

“You guys go on,” I tell Brett and Emma. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay, kiddo.” Brett gives me a kiss.

“Aren’t I getting a little old for you to be calling me that?”

“You’ll always be my baby sister.”

The restaurant foyer is crowded and stuffy, so I step outside, surprised to see so many people still hanging around. I guess they didn’t get the memo that Thad Stone snuck out the back.

“Are you Brianna?” someone shouts. A girl is recording me with her phone. “You’re the lead singer for Reckless Alibi, right?”

“One of them, yes.”

I’m reeling. Maybe Ronni was right. This girl referred to me by one name, like Cher or Beyoncé. My smile is about to split my face in two.

She squeals and then suddenly, all the people in earshot take a sudden interest in me.

“Can I get a picture with you?” she asks.

“Sure.” I lean in, and she

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