Under the Lights: A thrilling, second-chance romance duet. (Bright Lights Book 1) by Tia Louise

Author:Tia Louise [Louise, Tia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: TLM Productions LLC
Published: 2018-01-07T16:00:00+00:00

14

“We create our own heartbreaks through expectations.”

Mark

“Do you drive?” Gavin corners me on my way to Lara’s dressing room. His face is red and sweaty. He looks like he’s been fighting.

I’m tired, and all I want is to see my girl, hold her in my arms and forget this shitty job and this shitty night. A quick check in the room confirmed what I felt certain—she wasn’t one of the dancers in that fucking orgy.

“Yeah, I drive,” I say, not wanting to stand here talking.

He pulls out a set of keys. “You’re driving my brother to Atlanta tonight.”

Fuck… “Don’t you have a car service?”

“Yeah, it’s called you.” He punches me in the chest, and I feel his anger. I don’t understand it, but I know enough not to challenge him.

Grasping his fist, I take the keys. One is black and chunky with the distinctive Lincoln logo on it. “Where you parked?”

“Out the back door. You’ll see it. For expenses.” He shoves another money clip in my hand and starts in the opposite direction. I slip the bills in the pocket of my blazer and look toward the dressing rooms, wondering if I have enough time to see Lara, tell her what I’m doing.

“Get out there now,” Gavin barks. “He’s on his way.”

That answers my question. Dammit, why didn’t I get Lara a phone? She doesn’t want one, but this is why she needs it. Atlanta’s a seven-hour drive. I won’t be back until tomorrow night at the earliest. She’ll wonder where I am. She was already so nervous when I was late this evening. I told her I’d always be there.

Exhaling a frustrated growl, I push through the metal door into the back parking lot. Sure enough, a navy Towncar is parked in a nearby spot, impossible to miss. Tapping the key, the doors unlock, and I slide across the leather seat. It’s the nicest car I’ve ever been in.

Staring at the dash, I wait, getting angrier as every minute passes. Where the fuck is this guy? I could’ve easily seen Lara in the time he’s taking to get here. Turning the dial, I find a jazz station and leave it. It reminds me of the night we slipped out and went to Preservation Hall. Looking through the window, I remember everything about that night, her laughter, kissing her under the stars, holding her body against mine as we listened to the band, her mother’s pen…

That part sticks in my memory. Her mother’s pen…

It was the only time in our night sadness broke through. She tried to dismiss it, to push it away, but I could see how it hurt her.

The door opens, and the red-headed man drops into the back seat. “Let’s go.”

His door slams shut, and I steer us out of the parking lot. It takes me a few minutes to weave through the narrow streets until I’m on Canal. A few more blocks, and we’re on Interstate 10 headed north.

The only sound in the vehicle is classic jazz playing softly.

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