“Lark.”I groaned.“I wish I would’ve known that before we approved the setlist.I’m going to feel so self-conscious now playing their songs in front of them.”
Lark laughed.“Because you play them so much better?”
“Who’s the blonde?”Bailey asked.
“The winner of the Win-A-Date scheme,” Lark answered.“I guess Noah had Harper pick someone just to get it over with.Doesn’t look like it’s much of a love match, huh?”
I whipped my head around and took in the still pouting blonde typing away on her phone while Noah talked and laughed with the guys, a clear glass of water sitting in front of him.
Huh.
“Ladies.”The manager stepped up behind Bailey.“I understand we had a little security issue tonight.Does anyone need medical aid?Or want to press charges?”
My friends both looked to me, but I shook my head.“As long as he doesn’t come back, we’re fine.”
The manager nodded.“Understood.We’ll provide a security escort to and from the parking lot while you pack up per the contract.”Then he shifted and crossed his arms over his chest and gave us a look I’d seen so many times on arrogant assholes.“In the future, we’d prefer for you to keep your domestic issues outside our establishment.”
“What the fuck.”Lark stared at him with the same wide eyes Bailey and I no doubt had.“Did you seriously just blame that asshole’s behavior on us?”
“This isn’t some backwater honkytonk bar.We at Maison Publique pride ourselves on providing our clientele with a luxe Vegas experience.That does not include screaming patrons who assault other patrons or our security team.”
“You just guaranteed that we won’t be back.Come on, girls.”Lark pushed past him and stomped away.
“Ladies!You’re still under contract,” the manager called after us.
Bailey whipped around.“Oh, you misunderstand.We’re still playing.But tonight’s the last night that Tattered Monarchs will ever step foot inside yourestablishment.So you can take your veiled threats and shove them where the sun doesn’t shine.Asshole.”
I’d never felt so loved or supported in my whole life.
And that feeling doubled when we took to the stage to the cheers of the audience.
We stood in the center of the stage in a little huddle, and I grinned at my friends.“I love your brand of crazy.You ladies ready to kill it?”
“Let’s burn this bitch to the ground,” Bailey shouted as she placed her hand over mine.
Lark placed her hand on ours.“On three?”We nodded.“One, two, three.”
“Tattered Monarchs soar!”we all shouted.Then after one bracing group hug, we took our places.
In seconds, the bar vibrated with our special brand of music.And I grinned the whole time.
* * *
The manager gave us shit as he paid us in his office at the end of our last set.
“You can’t blame me for not wanting that kind of drama in my bar.”Jon sat back in his chair and gave us all his patented condescending little smile.
Lark rolled her eyes as she counted the cash he’d just given her.
“We appreciate the opportunity you gave us.Thank you for the spot tonight.”Bailey beamed at him.We’d all agreed not to aggravate Jon untilafterwe’d been escorted to our van.I don’t know if Jon thought about screwing us out of our promised security or not—he seemed like the petty kind of douche who would’ve—so we were better off playing it safe.
“So you’ll play again?The crowd really liked your show.And I loved the way you kept pointing everyone to the bar.We sold more drinks during your show than we ever have with any other act.”
Lark pursed her lips.
I rolled my eyes.I knew what she’d been up to during the show.She wanted to show this asshole all the business he’d be missing out on by pissing us off.Lark had told everyone to grab a drink at one point then led a toast.She’d also asked the crowd to buy her a drink since she was so thirsty standing on the stage singing.Eighteendifferent drinks were delivered to the stage by her admirers.Then she talked up the drinks while she’d taken a sip of each one.
Maison Publique had done killer sales tonight.Mostly due to Lark and her special brand of crazy.
