He glanced at his watch. It was already past ten thirty at night. Not that he was going to go to bed early or anything, but it sounded as if Daphne was pretty much busy up until midnight. Why had she asked to see him?
But at least she had said she’d see him. Cade shook his head and took another drink of his bourbon. For the last eight months, she’d been giving him the runaround. If he got answers from her at three in the morning, he’d take them.
Kylie fiddled with the latch on one of her cases and then glanced over at him through thick lashes. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“It’s nosy.”
He smiled, curious as to what she’d ask. Was she going to flirt with him more? Was it disturbing how much he liked that idea? “I don’t mind—ask away.”
“Is Daphne expecting you?”
That . . . wasn’t what he’d expected her to ask. “She is. She asked me to come tonight. Had her assistant send me tickets.”
“Ah.” Kylie shook her head as if to clear it. “Right. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to see you.”
But she didn’t look convinced. In fact, it looked as if she were avoiding his gaze. Cade’s stomach clenched and he wanted to ask Kylie if Daphne was still having problems. But he also didn’t want to force Kylie to choose between her employer and him, so he simply drained his bourbon and went back to the bar for another.
And he waited for Daphne. He was already here, after all. Might as well see what shook out.
By the time the crowd roared and the lights flashed backstage to indicate that things were wrapping up outside, Cade had downed a few too many bourbons. It wasn’t like him, but anything involving Daphne made him lose all common sense. He shook his head and drained his glass again, then set it on the bar. No more.
He watched Kylie instead. He could watch her all night, really. She was lively and feminine and cheery all the time. She refused all drinks and offers of drugs with a polite smile, and didn’t seem bothered by the fact that they were around her and she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—partake.
Why couldn’t Daphne be more like her? Settled, content, and fun to be around? He was drawn to Kylie repeatedly throughout the night, but had to force himself not to continue bothering her when it was clear she was one of Daphne’s crew and on the job. But he liked her. Just her warm, friendly presence here soothed him, and he was definitely feeling a little rattled overall.
People began to flood through the back doors and Cade got to his feet, straightening his tie and then shoving his hands into the worn pockets of his sport jacket. He tried to catch a glimpse of Daphne amongst the crowd of sweaty people flooding into the room, dressed in wild stage costumes, but the colored wigs and towels being flung about made it hard for him to decipher who was who.
“Everyone out,” an assistant bellowed. “Everyone clear the room to let Miss Petty change! Go wait in the hall. Press, that includes you.”
Just like that, the crowd filed toward the door. Even the bartender got up from the bar and left. Cade moved forward to Kylie’s side, because he didn’t want to be shuffled out with the rest of the crew. He was a personal friend, damn it. Daphne’d invited him. He wasn’t part of the riffraff.
“Is it necessary for me to go wait in the hall, too? I know Daphne’s expecting me.”
Kylie bit one of her plump red lips, and again, he had to fight back a surge of lust at the sight of her. Why was she so utterly perfect in his eyes? Or was it just the alcohol and the fact that he was about to see Daphne that had his dick constantly springing to attention? “I’m not sure,” Kylie said. “She might not want to see you just yet.”
“I’ve seen her in all kinds of situations,” Cade told her. Hell, he’d gone skinny dipping with Daphne when they were kids, and they’d been each other’s first sex partner. “I’m pretty sure I can handle her sweaty and messy.”
Again, Kylie bit her lip, and then she gestured for him to sit in a nearby chair. “Wait here and I’ll ask Snoopy.”
“Snoopy?”
“Her assistant.” Kylie gave him a dimpled smile before turning and heading off, and he tilted his head to watch her ass move as she left, which was probably terrible of him because he was here waiting for Daphne.
Had to be the bourbon. Had to.
He watched as Kylie approached another woman and talked. The other woman looked worried and wrung her hands, then shook her head. Kylie continued talking even as people moved through the room. The assistant looked nearly in tears, and she kept gesturing about something. What was going on?
Cade got his answer a few moments later. “Marco?” A familiar voice bellowed. “Where the fuck is Marco?” The double doors leading to the stage slammed open and down came Daphne, stick thin and looking wilted in her now-sweaty costume. Her black wig was askew and her makeup was smeared on her face. Her eyes looked hollow and even as she thumped down the stairs, he could tell she was unwell.
His heart sank to his feet.
She also looked pissed. “Where the fuck is Marco?” Daphne asked in that shrill voice again. “I’m done acting like the performing monkey. Now where are my fucking drugs?”
And with that, ice formed in Cade’s belly.
Had he hoped that Daphne had changed? He should have known—she never changed. Anger, frustration, and disappointment warred for dominance in Cade’s mind.
Mostly, though? He was tired of this. He was tired of Daphne’s shit. Her empty promises. Her unwillingness to give up the drugs.