The Russos 7 by D J Manly

Author:D J Manly [Manly, D J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 1601800401
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

He had changed a great deal this last year, Frank thought as he studied him. He had grown up, become a man. From where he sat in the chair in the light, he could swear it was Drake sitting there, but when you looked closer, you realized that Angelo had some of his mother in him. Though it was difficult to isolate the features that were Janet’s, they were there, enhancing the incredibly handsome ones he had inherited from his father. He had his father’s physique, tall, muscular and slim. He had those huge eyes the colour of chocolate and the soft, sensual mouth. He had that devilish light in his eyes, and that smile that never quite sat straight on his face and the talent...he had all that talent that came directly from Drake.

Angelo was speaking to Frank now, making a joke about how different he looked from Mr. Concord in his blue jeans and black leather jacket. “You would think Concord was your boss instead of the other way around,” Angelo laughed.

Frank shook his head. “Different strokes...” he grinned.

Alan Concord returned to the table. “All talked out?” He issued Angelo a smile.

Angelo checked his watch. Time to get back on stage. “I’ll speak to Mike and Sam later. Do you have a number where I can reach you?”

Mr. Concord whipped out a card. “There you go, but I plan on staying for the evening, so maybe we could all go out for something to drink and eat later. It’s on me.”

Angelo rose from his chair and nodded. “Sounds good. Thank you, Mr. Concord.” He shook the man’s hand again, slapped Frank on the back and said, “Enjoy the rest of the show.”

Angelo walked backstage. Sam came up behind him and asked him who those men were.

“I’ll tell you about later,” Angelo said. “Just hang around after we finish.”

“How come,” he demanded, “you get to know what’s happening while Mike and I are kept in the dark? We’re either part of this group or we’re not. You wouldn’t be able to...”

“Sam, shut the fuck up, okay? We have a show to do,” Angelo sighed.

Mike came in from outside in the back. He took one look at Angelo and knew he was pissed off.

“What now?” he asked.

“Nothing. Let’s go.” Angelo picked up his guitar and walked onto the stage. There was a loud round of applause. He plugged in his guitar. The feeling of being onstage, the crowd’s reaction when he began to sing always made him feel high. He concentrated on that feeling, that rush he got whenever he was in front of an audience. The adrenalin coursed through his veins as he placed the microphone closer to his mouth, making love to it as he sang, “Please, baby, give me just a little.” The crowd went wild, whistling, clapping.

Concord looked over at Frank as he surveyed the crowd and nodded. “The kid’s a gold mine. He’s good and he knows his way around a stage. The crowd is eating him up.

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