Captivated (20 page)

“And I bit your head off
and didn’t even listen to you.” Guilt overwhelmed her. Family hadn’t come first
there. Her fault. Entirely her fault.

He shoved his hands in
his pockets and shrugged.
“Seth stopped by after that and
suggested we go to the bar to cool off before the interview, but as I sat
there, I got angrier and angrier, and, well, you know what happened then.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there
for you. It won’t happen again.” She grasped his hand.

“I know it hasn’t seemed
like it, but I don’t want to hurt the band.”

“We’re good now, man.”
Landry patted him on the back. “We yell, we fight, we throw punches, then it’s
over and done, until the next one.”

She didn
’t
want to think about the next one. “If I stay, what if Excite makes good on
their threat to pull you?”

Zander smirked.
“Do
you know how much money they’d risk losing if they did that?”

Luke nodded at him.
“I
say we call their bluff.”

No one else would care
about the guys as much as she did. If they were really serious about coming
together, then she needed to be there for them. They were her guys, and she was
going to prove to Excite that she was more than capable of handling them.
“So
what do we do?”

“We storm the castle,
together.” Her brother’s words gave her pause.

“You mean show up at
Excite? I hate the idea of throwing myself on Oliver’s mercy, especially face
to face.”

“You’re not asking that
jerk for anything. We’re going to the top. We’re flying to Vance’s house in
Vegas.”

“Now? It’s eleven
thirty.” Vance DuBrow, Excite’s president, likely wouldn’t appreciate a late
night or early morning visit.

“Threatening to pull us
off the tour was a stupid move, and he’s going to see how much.” Zander pulled
out his phone. “I’ll make the reservations for the flight and text you. Go home
and pack a bag. Get some sleep, or hell, come over and crash at my place. We’ll
leave from my house in the morning.”

“This is crazy. We’re
going to show up at his home on a Sunday, uninvited?” She was the manager—she
was supposed to be the voice of reason.

“He asked for it. Let’s
get out of here.” Zander led the way, followed by Brendan and Landry.

“I won’t let you guys
down.” As she made her vow, two things came to mind.

She
’d
do whatever it took to get the band back on track. And that meant she needed to
talk to Dom.

At
midnight, Dom sent a text to Irisa.
Home yet?

He wanted to hold her and
to fall asleep holding her. Waking up with her in his arms would help him face
the day and the dreaded media blitz awaiting him. One minute passed, then two,
then five. He set the phone aside and stood. Maybe she
’d
fallen asleep. Or maybe she was getting ready for bed and didn’t see the
message. He walked to the window. Bracing his hands on the sill, he surveyed
the darkened sky. Or maybe she was exhausted and didn’t want company. He rubbed
his stomach, not liking the flare of disappointment residing there.

The soft ping of the
message alert sounded. He laughed at himself and shook his head. Too much
overthinking. He grabbed the phone from the couch.

Can you meet me for a
drink downstairs in the pub?

Frowning, he stared at
the screen. Not one of her usual smiley-faced messages. Hopefully the rest of
her day hadn
’t been as bad as his.
Sure,
when?

I
’m
here now.

Be right down.

After he sent the
message, he received one from his agent.

Riptide will release a
formal statement regarding your suspension mid-morning on Sunday. I
’m
crafting a response for you. DO NOT respond to anything or anyone without
talking to me first.

Drawing in deep, even
breaths, he forced every muscle in his body to go lax. The relaxation technique
didn
’t
work. Fury burned through him and locked his muscles up tight. Whatever. Seeing
Irisa always worked better at calming him anyway. At least he still had her.

After making sure Champ
was settled, he headed down to the pub.

When he walked into the
pub, he spotted her tucked into the corner table at the back of the room. She
still wore the blue shirt and shorts she
’d had on at the bar. But
they were wrinkled now. Her hair, caught back in a ponytail, made her look
years younger, and, somehow, more vulnerable. A travel bag sat on the floor and
she held an empty shot glass in her hand. She never did shots.

“Hey.” He leaned over to
kiss her. “What are you drinking?”

“Whiskey.”

“Why?”

Her lips pressed
together. For a moment, devoid of any color.
“Sit.”

Radar up. Not good.
Before he could ask, a waiter interrupted them. "What can I get you?"

Irisa raised her glass.
"Another, please."

He'd never seen that sad,
desperate gaze before. Whatever was wrong, he'd need a clear head to fix it.
"Nothing for me, thanks."

"So
…"
Rings clacked the table as she wrung her hands together.

He reached over and
covered hers with his. "What happened?"

"I can't
…"
She shook her head. Tapered fingers gripped his, then eased. "I have
to…" Her face crumpled for a moment and she looked away, biting her lip.

Alarm raced through him.
He rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles. "What's wrong? Talk to me."

He sensed the waiter's
approach. When they were alone once more, Irisa extracted her hands from his
grip and downed the shot.

"Feel better?"

She shook her head. Tears
sparkled in her eyes. "I can't see you anymore."

A sharp spade of ice shot
through him.
“What the hell are you talking about?” The words
exploded out of him, drawing the attention of the other tables.

“There’s too much chaos
surrounding the band. And Excite wants my resignation or they’re going to pull
the guys off the tour.”

His heartbeat raced and
he fought to control his breath.
“So you think the
solution is to stop seeing me?”

“I was distracted by what
was happening between us. I neglected the guys and my duties. They’re my
family. It’s my responsibility to keep things running smoothly. With all that’s
happened, they need my full focus more than ever.”

The waiter approached
again. "Ms. Rostov, your cab is here."

She nodded and stood.

He sprang to his feet.
"Wait."

"I can't. I've made
such a mess of things." She reached for her bag but he grabbed it first.

"Where are you
going?"

“Vegas. I have to fight
for my job and throw myself at the mercy of the company president. I don’t even
know if it’ll work. But I won’t let my guys get pulled off that tour.”

“When will you be back?”

She shook her head.
“I
don’t know.”

They wrestled with her
bag until she finally wrenched it free. He followed her to the door. The night
watchman stepped aside. Dom grabbed Irisa
’s hand. “We’re not
done.”

Her hand lay limp in his.
“It’s
not only me. You’ve been in a lot of hot water with your team because of me and
my band. It’s for the best that we end this now, before anything else happens
to you.”

Too late.

But would telling her
make any difference? He knew the way her mind worked. She
’d
only blame herself.

“I’m sorry, Dom,” she
whispered. “I have to go.”

The cab idled, ready to
carry her away from him. He released his grip.
“We’ll talk when
you get back.”

She shook her head, tears
forming in her hazel eyes.
“No. We won’t. There’s nothing left
to say.”

She walked away, leaving
him standing at the door, holding onto nothing but the empty shell of what had
been hope.

When
she reached her brother
’s house, Irisa went directly to his
guest room. A few hours later, as dawn kissed the sky, she climbed into his
car. She left her sunglasses in place throughout the drive from Zander’s house
to the airport, and throughout the plane trip to Vegas. No one needed to see
her puffy eyes, and she didn’t want to have to give them an explanation either.
She avoided speaking to the guys by pretending to sleep. Eyes closed, she
relived the conversation with Dom, over and over again. And emotion for
emotion, it all played back, a horrid in-flight movie.

Zander directed her
toward an exit.
“I hired a car and driver for us too.”

The large black SUV with
tinted windows stretched out before her.
“Nice job.” She greeted
the driver and climbed inside. Before she could again pretend to sleep, Zander
snatched the glasses off her face. “Hey.”

“What’s wrong?” He held
them away from her.

Brendan leaned forward in
his seat.
“You were too quiet during the trip. What happened?”

So much for hiding it.
“I
told Dom I couldn’t see him anymore.”

Her brother
’s
eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Because the band needs
my full focus. Everything that went wrong happened while I was distracted by my
relationship with him.”

“You’re kidding, right?
We were fighting before you got involved with him.”

She shook her head.
“But
all the really bad stuff happened afterward.”

Luke lowered his sunglasses
and fixed her with his blue-eyed stare.
“We’re all adults. We’re
responsible for our own actions. None of the stupid things I or anyone else did
were your fault.”

“Maybe they wouldn’t have
happened if I’d been paying you more attention. I can’t help feeling
responsible. I could’ve prevented the bar fight. I would’ve gone to the
interview.”

“Can’t guarantee that.”
Brendan gave her a smile. “You could’ve been in the restroom when the first
fight happened, and you could’ve missed the interview if you’d been sick. No
matter what you do, there’s no way to make sure everything will be smooth.
You’re allowed to have a personal life.”

Zander nodded.
“You
were happy with Dom. I’d rather see you happy than resenting us down the line
because you missed out on something good with him.”

“But with everything
that’s happened, we need to make sure nothing else goes wrong. I need to be in
my usual
all band, all the time
mode.
”

He handed over the
sunglasses.
“You were popping meds because of your
all
band, all the time
mode. I was an idiot for not seeing it.
Maybe I
’m
a perfectionist with music, and you are with, well, everything else. But we all
should’ve insisted on you sharing the workload, no matter how hard you fought
to handle it all yourself.”

“You guys have to handle
the music and the fans, and you get so caught up in it and lose track of
everything else… And Brendan’s even worse with remembering about being on time
for things, and Luke and Landry—”

Landry held up his hand.
“Luke
and Landry aren’t helpless. We’re not as lost in our own world as Zander.”

“Hey, I managed to handle
the flight and car for this trip, didn’t I?” Zander leaned forward and cuffed
the back of the bassist’s head. “And I didn’t say things would be perfect. If
something gets messed up, it gets messed up. That’s why you also need an
assistant. Someone like Jayne who double- and triple-checks things.” He glanced
at Luke. “But maybe not actually Jayne—not right now, anyway.”

Luke turned toward the
window.
“Don’t
let me stand in the way. I’ll deal with it…better than I did before.”

That would remain to be
seen. Irisa hoped it could work out. She nudged his shoulder.
“Any
news on Seth?”

He nodded.
“Griffin
texted me. Seth’s awake, and going to do a lengthy rehab stay once he gets out
of the hospital.”

“I’m glad he’s okay.
Hopefully he’ll get the help he needs.” She patted his arm, then twisted toward
Zander. “So what are we going to say to Vance, anyway?”

His mouth formed a grim
line.
“Leave
it to me.”

Irisa took one look at
the gated estate and figured they had zero chance of getting inside. But in the
span of under five minutes, Zander had managed for them to gain access.

The front door swung
open. Vance DuBrow stood before them. Gray hair slicked back, tinted glasses
perched low on his nose, and dressed for a golf game in a yellow polo and plaid
shorts.
“To
what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

This early in the
morning, she could forgive the sarcasm.

Zander crossed his arms
over his chest.
“When you have your lackey tell my sister
that she needs to resign from being band manager or you’re going to kick us off
the tour, you can bet I’m going to have a problem with that.”

Luke flanked her other
side.
“We
all have a problem with that.”

Vance gestured for them
to come inside, and they crowded into the foyer.
“I’ve always liked
you guys, but lately you’ve been in the spotlight for the wrong reasons.”

“Lately, we’ve had some
extenuating circumstances.” Landry stood shoulder to shoulder with Luke.

“Here’s the thing,
Vance.” Zander’s tone commanded attention. “We’re a package deal. My sister
stays. I’m sure you thought about the money. If you kick us off, you can expect
the fans to be pissed and for sales to fall. But if you’re ready to do that,
then we’re ready to part ways completely.”

“You can’t walk away. You
owe Excite one more album.”

“Then throw together a
greatest hits collection for all we care. You won’t get any new music from us.
If you’re so ready to wash your hands of us…” He shrugged and let the threat
hang in the air.

Lips pressed together,
Vance stared at them for a long moment, stroking his chin.
“I
expect you to be straight with me. Have those extenuating situations you
mentioned been cleared up?”

Irisa looked at the guys,
but mainly Luke. They nodded.
“Yes.”

“I have your word that
nothing else will happen?”

She stepped forward,
ready to defend her band, and ready to assume responsibility for them.
“You’ve
known us for ten years. That should count for something.”

He gave her a slight nod.
“All
right. Then you can stay on the tour.”

“With Irisa.” Zander
raised his brow.

“With Irisa,” Vance
confirmed.

Zander laid his hand on
her shoulder.
“One more thing. I don’t want us to have to deal with
Oliver anymore.”

“Why?”

“He oversteps a lot, and
he makes my sister uncomfortable. I’m not okay with my sister being
uncomfortable.”

Her brother
’s
words made her smile. He was always in her corner. Tension seeped out of her
muscles. 

“Fine. Done.” Vance
glanced at her, and then his gaze spanned the rest of the group. “Anything
else?”

“We didn’t eat on the
plane.” Brendan flashed a smile meant to melt any resistance. “I’m a little
hungry.”

Irisa stifled a groan.
“Brendan,
we’re not making Vance feed us. We’ll get something at the airport.” She
extended her hand to Vance. “Thank you.”

He nodded and returned
the shake.
“I expect a decent report on the next show.”

“You’ll get one.”

They made their goodbyes.
When they returned to the car, they celebrated. High fives and hugs all around.

She pulled away from Luke
and climbed into the car.
“Guys, promise me, no more drama.
Please?”

Brendan patted her hand
and nodded.
“No more until the next tour. Now let’s find
breakfast.”

They arrived at the
airport an hour before their flight and loaded up on coffee and breakfast
sandwiches. The guys were joking and getting along, just like old times. She
smiled, and tried to join in, but her heart was still focused on Dom.

Zander looked up from his
phone.
“Hey,
why didn’t you tell us about Dom’s suspension?”

Her blood turned to ice.
She dropped her sandwich onto her plate.
“What suspension?”

“Here’s the official word
from the team. The Riptide suspended him for the rest of the season for conduct
detrimental to the team and charged him a fifty-thousand-dollar fine. Their
manager said he won’t have a team deserter or a bar brawler on his team.”

Pangs of guilt killed her
appetite. Urgent energy tingled along her spine. She moved into damage-control
mode.
“Deserter?
I thought he had permission to leave the game. I have to fix it. It’s my
fault.” She grabbed her phone. “I’ll call their GM.”

Landry laughed.
“There’s
no way you’re getting that guy on the phone.”

Fifteen minutes later,
she wanted to heave her phone out the window.
“All I could do
was leave a message for their PR department.” She paced the space in front of
their seats. “That’s not enough.”

Zander pulled out his
phone and swiped the screen.
“I exchanged numbers with some of the
players that night at dinner. They might be able to help you.”

She pressed her lips
together.
“Not if they hate me for dragging Dom into my drama.”

“Only one way to tell.”
He lifted the phone to his ear. “Hey, Adam. It’s Zander. My sister’s trying to
get a hold of Ramon Sanchez. Can you help her out?”

Irisa watched his face,
holding her breath.

“Sure. Hold on.” Zander’s
gaze met hers. “He wants to talk to you.”

Dread welled in her gut.
She reached for her antacids and came up empty.
“Hi, Adam.”

“You wanted Ramon’s
number?”

“I just found out about
Dom’s punishment. It isn’t fair. I need to try and fix it. It’s all my fault,
and it’s affecting the rest of your team, too. I’m so sorry.”

“Have you talked to him?”

“Not since last night.”
And their awful conversation. “When did he find out about the suspension?”

“Yesterday. He had a
meeting with Ramon and Dusty after the game. Listen, he’ll be ticked off I’m
telling you this, but I just saw him and he’s miserable, and not only about
baseball. Whatever happened between you guys, please work it out. You made him
happy.”

Happy? Yeah, right. So
happy that he
’d lost out on baseball. Because of her. Her eyes
burned with fresh tears. “I want what’s best for him, and that’s obviously a
life without me in it.”

She couldn
’t
talk anymore. Blindly handing the phone to Zander, she sank onto her seat.