Headstrong (4 page)

“Hang on, baby,” she breathed into the mic, addressing the DJ. He paused the opening notes of “Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!” The club went near-silent as Libby dug in her jeans’ pocket and extracted a tube of lipstick, drawing a scarlet smile onto her otherwise nude face. She pocketed it and spoke in a voice ten times more seductive than before. “Thanks, Tim. Lay it on me.” The crowd whooped. Libby Prentiss was a ringmaster—she made karaoke night feel like a burlesque and she hadn’t sung a note yet.

The song began again, and she slid the mic from its stand, holding it with both hands. “Why do you always give me this white-girl shit?” she asked the DJ over the intro to scattered laughter. The audience seemed to know what they were in for. Reece shifted anxiously from foot to foot.

Libby swallowed a deep breath, and the voice of a formidable black woman from Memphis erupted from her throat. It was ABBA, as sung by Gladys Knight. How a bony white chick in an Adidas jacket could produce that kind of sound, Reece could not comprehend.

“Holy hell, Reece,” Colin said, summing up the experience perfectly.

Libby made the bar feel like a stadium. She owned the hundred people in the audience and turned them into an ocean of fans. It wasn’t effortless—it took her whole body. Even from all the way across the room, Reece could see her throat vibrating with the sound, her eyes clenched tight and head thrown back to create this experience.

Libby straightened up during the song’s slap-bass interlude, ran her hand over her forehead to mock-mop her brow of sweat. She smiled exuberantly and squinted out over the crowd. Her eyes locked on Reece, and a grin engulfed her face.

“I’d like to dedicate this song to a very special new guy in my life,” she purred into the mic. “My very own man after midnight, Reece Nolan. Take a bow, lover!” She aimed her cast-clad finger across the room at him.

Reece went numb as club goers craned their heads to stare. Colin smiled and hooked his thumb to the side to indicate which of them deserved this humiliation. Reece kept his face as blank as possible, praying he might magically disappear.

After a minute that felt suspiciously like an eternity, Libby finished her song and left the stage to thunderous applause. A timid-looking girl replaced her and began to fumble through a current pop hit.

“Jesus, Reece,” Colin murmured. “I didn’t realize you were stalking Disco Barbie.”

“We’re going. This is a wind-up. She didn’t want to talk, she just wanted to get even.”

“How paranoid do you sound? Give her a chance to explain. She seemed normal enough when I met her.” Colin looked eager for the opportunity to examine Libby up close again.

“No way.”

“Jesus,” Colin repeated. “She’s like a flipping siren or something.”

“More like a banshee. Get your jacket.”

“I’m still wearing it.”

“Right.” Reece hated that he was getting flustered. He couldn’t give Libby Prentiss that satisfaction.

“Buy you a drink?”

Reece turned to his side, and she’d materialized, looking as if she’d been standing at the bar for hours.

“What the hell, Libby?”

She smiled innocently. “I’m so glad you came out.” She looked to Reece’s other side, and her expression brightened as she gave Colin a double take. “My my my. If it isn’t my gallant knight…?”

He stepped forward and offered his hand. “Colin. Reece’s brother. Nice to meet you properly, Libby.”

Libby’s lips gave a little twitch at “brother”.

“Ditto. How nice of you to introduce us,” she added unctuously to Reece and shook the younger Nolan’s hand, her injured finger sticking out above his grip, bracelets jangling.

“That was choice,” Colin offered.

“Oh, that was nothing.” She slipped her hair behind her ears with a precision that made it seem as though she were removing an article of clothing.

Reece kept himself cold. “We have to head out. I thought you wanted to talk about something, but I was obviously mistaken.” He said the last word in a way that plainly translated to “lied to”.

“Don’t go yet—I
do
want to talk. I just didn’t think you’d come so early. Colin, do you sing?” She turned all her attention away from Reece, and he knew he was doomed to this.

“Sure thing. Reece, grab me a drink?” Colin added as Libby steered him off toward the DJ’s table.

“Bugger.”

Libby returned minutes later, Colin nowhere in sight.

“Are you
sure
you’re brothers?” she asked, sidling up to Reece.

“What’s he up to?”

“I don’t know, he didn’t let me see what he picked.”

God, there’s two of them.
Reece took a fortifying breath. The chaos and charisma of Libby was bad enough on its own, but to add—

“Colin!” the DJ announced.

Reece watched his brother trot fearlessly up the steps and slide the mic stand higher. Reece had an idea what this might be about, and he couldn’t say he wasn’t looking forward to it, just a tiny bit. He could use a laugh.

Sure enough, the twangy bass of “She’s a Lady” started up, and it was like seeing Colin as a teenager again, all boundless energy and bravado.

“Holy crap. He does a mean Tom Jones,” Libby said.

What Colin could do was practically an impersonation, hips and all. It ran completely counter to his intimidating shell.

“Where did he learn to do
that
?”

Reece was enjoying this enough to submit to small talk. He even cracked a tight smile. “He’s been doing that since he was twelve. At first to make fun of our mum, who’s in love with Tom Jones. He’s gotten sort of good at it over the years.”

“I’ll say. What are you going to sing?” Libby turned to stare at Reece over the rim of her wine glass.

“Shove off.”

“Actually, I should. I think I’m up next.” She flashed him a million-dollar smile and slipped back into the crowd.

Reece was resigned to another hour of flamboyant torture as Libby evaded him and Colin refused to leave. Downing glass after glass of soda, he watched with fascination masquerading as apathy when Libby and his brother collaborated in a makeshift duet of David Bowie’s “Suffragette City”
that brought the house down.

Agreeing to let Colin come had been a huge mistake. Reece knew this girl was a black widow but Colin hadn’t even spotted the web yet—he was enjoying the struggle far too much. He returned to the bar after the song wrapped, looking energized as he accepted the glass Reece held out. “Cheers. Holy hell, she is something else, eh?”

“We’ve got to go. Finish your drink.”

Colin turned to stare at him, brow furrowed. “What is your bloody problem, mate? She’s a right laugh. We should invite her ’round.”

“Oh,
fuck
no.”

“Why not?”

“She’s a flipping wing-nut. There’s something…
off
about her.”

“You’re paranoid. She’s just American. Americans are always a little loopy.”

“Trust me on this one. Please. I do
not
want her knowing where we live—”

“
Allllllright!
” the DJ boomed over their argument as another song ended. “Libby, you got another one in you? I thought so!”

Libby jogged from the table she’d been chatting to and up onto the stage. “Whatchoo got for me, baby?” she asked through the mic in a sassy black woman’s voice.

The DJ fiddled with his console and “Chain of Fools” came on, sending the audience into rapturous hoots of excitement. Reece couldn’t pretend he wasn’t a little blown away. The sounds that came out of this lanky girl were shocking. She sang Aretha Franklin better than Aretha Franklin. Well…maybe not quite, but at this moment, it sure felt that way.

Libby wrapped her song, panting. “I’m done, Timmy. You’ve broken me.” The crowd groaned its disappointment as she hopped down, blowing an appreciative kiss toward the DJ. She grabbed her glass from the edge of the stage and made a beeline to the Nolans.

She glanced between their matching tumblers of soda. “You boys sure know how to cut loose.”

“I don’t drink. Or drive.” Colin nodded to Reece. “And he doesn’t drink
and
drive.”

She smirked. “Such good little Boy Scouts.”

Reece cut in. “You told me to meet you for a quiet chat. Is this a wind-up?”

“I’ve forgotten what it was I wanted to talk about.” Libby smiled way-too-sweetly in an imitation of an apology. “But since you’re here, I
could
use a ride home.”

“Where do you live?” Colin asked, before Reece could tell her to go to hell, in about as many words.

“Off Oriental Parade.”

Reece cut in. “You can walk.”

“Jesus, Reece,” Colin said.

“It’s practically raining out,” Libby added with an intentionally obnoxious, plaintive curl of her lip.

“Not even close. You’ve wasted enough of my time already tonight.”

Colin set his glass on the bar. “Reece, it’s a five-minute ride. Let’s just drop her off, eh?”

“Yeah, Reece, let’s just drop me off. I
do
want a chat after. A real quick one.”

Knowing he was outnumbered, Reece did the math and decided the time lost on the ride would be less than the time spent arguing about the ride. He fixed Libby with a steady, neutral eye. “Fine.”

“Excellent. Just let me settle my tab.” She flashed an amazingly sincere-looking smile, white teeth framed in that deadly mouth.

Colin turned as she disappeared toward the other end of the bar. “Crikey, Reece, what is your problem?”

“She is. You don’t know her. She’s a nutter.”

“She’s got you all flustered,” Colin said, grinning his approval.

“She hasn’t. But she’s got
you
by the balls, and you’ve known her an hour.”

“Mate, she’s got to be by far the hottest woman you’ve ever talked to.”

“That’s not true,” Reece said. “And she’s way too…too much. I’m not interested. And neither are you. I don’t want to speak to her ever again after this flipping ride.”

Reece kept his eyes and brain focused on the road as the Laser made its way down Taranaki Street.

“How in the hell did you do that?” Colin asked Libby from the backseat. “Sing like that?”

“It’s my secret super power,” she replied, a smug grin in her voice.

“Impressive.”

“Yeah, but I won’t be able to talk tomorrow.”

“Still,” Colin said. “That was choice, eh, Reece? I can’t believe I’ve gone my whole life without ever doing karaoke before.”

Libby whipped her head around, hair nearly catching Reece in the face. “You haven’t? Damn, you’re a natural.”

“Not compared to some,” Colin countered.

Reece wished they’d stop flirting.

“Reece has secret powers as well,” Libby cooed. “His little ninja trick broke my most useful finger.” Reece saw her raise her cast in his periphery.

“You
what
?” Colin grabbed the back of Reece’s seat and pulled himself near to his shoulder. “What is wrong with you?”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Reece said. “And we’re not discussing it.”

Libby settled back into her seat. “It was an unprovoked attack,” she murmured, pure evil.

Reece felt his irritation gain control for a moment and laughed coldly. “Right.”

“That’s pretty effed up, Reece,” Colin said.

“Let’s all just be quiet.”

They were, for a couple of minutes, until the waterfront came into view. Reece swallowed.

“Where do you live, Libby?” Colin asked as they approached the docks.

“Boat.”

“Houseboat? Flash.”

“Not exactly.” She directed Reece to park near the marina.

“Can you hang on, Colin? I just need to borrow your charming brother for a minute.”

“Do whatever you want with him,” Colin offered with gracious innuendo.

“Anything you need to say to me, you can say here,” Reece said, hands wrapped firmly around the wheel.

“It’s quite private,” Libby said with a twinge of the boudoir in her voice. “I’ll be quick. Please?” She was already halfway out the door.

“No.”

Colin exited the car, opened the driver’s door and yanked Reece out by the arm. He pushed the lock down, slammed the door, and slid into the backseat again. Reece heard Colin’s and then Libby’s doors click and knew he was locked out.

“Your brother’s on my side,” Libby drawled.

Reece narrowed his eyes, true anger welling. “Stay away from my brother.”

“Chill out, loverboy.” The vixen quality drained from her tone. “Let’s just chat, okay?”

He gave her a warning look and walked down the main dock, fighting every flight instinct in his being. Libby followed.

“What is it?” he demanded when they were well away from the car. The sound of the waves made his heart race.

“Have you told my father to go fuck himself yet?” Libby asked, businesslike.

“No.”

“Well, good. I have a counteroffer for you.”

Reece stopped walking and turned to face her.

“Whatever my father’s paying you, I’ll give you another twenty percent on top of it. Weekly, or whatever it is.”

Reece couldn’t hide his curiosity, or his desperation. “What’s in it for you?”

“You’ll document me on
my
terms. When I know about it. We’ll meet up, and I’ll let you photograph me or videotape me or whatever he’s got you doing, but how I want. Doing normal shit. Grocery shopping, surfing, whatever. He’ll be happy, because you’ll prove that I’m staying out of trouble. I’ll be happy, because I’m in control. You’ll be happy, because you get to keep his money
plus
mine. It’s a win-win-win situation.”

Reece shook his head. “I can’t lie to your father.”

“My father’s a twisted old control freak who’s never earned anybody’s loyalty, and what he doesn’t know will keep you paid. Otherwise, I’m telling him I know all about you, and then
nobody’s
happy.”

“I can’t do that.”

“You don’t have to decide yet. Give it a couple days. A couple more days on his payroll, to think about whatever it is you want that money for. And a couple more days to realize I’m fully capable of making your life miserable if you don’t see my reason.” She reached out and ran her fingers over the collar of Reece’s jacket.

He glared and plucked her hand away.