That small shiver and slight hitch of her breath wasn’t lost on me, though.
“I didn’t tell her to dress up so you could perv on the poor girl,” Kaylee said. “This is an event-appropriate outfit that will keep her from feeling out of place.”
“I appreciate it.” Grace fiddled with her small bag. “I’ve never been to something like this before. I was half wondering if there’d be a red carpet or something.”
“Nope,” Kaylee said cheerfully. “Just platters of fancy hors d’oeuvres surrounded by priceless art, with stuffy, uptight music execs and a bunch of arrogant dudes attempting to rein in their egos for one night. Attempting, and usually failing,” she added.
“We’re not all that bad,” I said.
“Yes, you are,” Kaylee shot back.
“Even Micah?” I asked. “I thought you always said he was the exception.”
Kaylee opened her mouth, then closed it, looking obstinate.
“Fine,” she said. “I guess some of you aren’t total assholes.” She gave me a pointed look. “Only some,” she stressed. “Which doesn’t include you.”
“I’m aware of my flaws,” I said with a shrug and easy grin. “And if I ever forgot, Grace would remind me.”
“You’re putting him in his place, are you?” Kaylee patted Grace on the arm. “I like you already.”
“He keeps me on my toes, that’s for sure,” Grace replied. “Are the rest of your band members just as terrible? I can’t imagine being a girl among a bunch of guys like Zain.”
“Gee, thanks,” I interjected.
“It’s not so bad,” Kaylee said. “As one of the few female rock musicians in the industry right now, I learned pretty early on how to deal with guys like these.”
“Maybe you can give me a couple pointers some time,” Grace said.
“I would love to.” Kaylee nudged me in the ribs and winked not so discreetly. “I like this one,” she stage-whispered. “She seems like a keeper.”
“Why don’t you say it a little louder for those in the back, Kay,” I retorted.
“I’ll let you two lovebirds get on with the evening. I should probably go find Anya and Chris, anyway.” She turned to Grace. “Let’s get coffee some time?”
“I’d like that,” she replied.
They exchanged numbers, then Kaylee flashed a smile and danced off, no doubt looking for her next target to harass.
“She seems like a nice kid,” Grace said. “She looks pretty young, though.”
“Kay’s only eighteen,” I told her. “She’s the youngest by a couple years, so she’s like the annoying little sister. But we all love her. And she’s a machine on the drums.”
“And is that her real hair?” Grace asked.
“She’s a natural redhead,” I replied. “Sometimes she jokes about dying it black to match our moody songs, but Micah would hate it.”
“Micah is also one of the band members?” Grace asked.
“He’s our keyboardist and main composer,” I said. “He takes the messy music sheets we give him and turns them into the pure gold you hear on our albums.”
“I’m amazed you’re attributing your genius to someone else.”
“Credit where credit is due,” I said. “Micah is a prodigy. When we first picked up our instruments, he mastered his almost right away.”
“And you didn’t?” Grace asked.
“I was as good as the next kid,” I shrugged.
