Watching her waddle away from me, I murmured, “You bet your sweet little ass I will.”
Jenny’s gallery was exactly what I was expecting it to be—a boring building with a bunch of bland, artistic, nonsensical crap hung on the walls and a few odd-shaped statues blocking the flow of traffic in the hallways. No nude art anywhere. I was instantly disappointed, and I kind of felt cheated as I looked over Jenny’s creations.
People were walking around looking all hoity-toity with fluted glasses of champagne, so I found a waiter and grabbed me a couple. It was my obligation to drink for Anna, since she wasn’t able to enjoy it. The burden of being a husband.
On the far side of the main room, I spotted my wife hanging out with Kiera, Jenny, and Rachel. I was just about to rush up and goose her sexy ass when Rachel turned and gave me a wicked glare. Jesus. Was she still mad at me for saying that Matt didn’t want to be tied down to just one girl? She needed to move on. Obviously, since he was still proposing to her, I’d been joking. Hopefully after this, the ice in her veins would melt.
Not wanting to get an earful about how much of an ass I was, I avoided the girls and looked around for where we were supposed to play. There were a surprising number of people here. Most I didn’t know, but a few familiar faces stood out. A couple of Pete’s waitresses were here, including Kate, the uppity one who never let me grab her ass. She was standing with Justin, the lead singer of Avoiding Redemption, one of the bands we were leaving on tour with tomorrow. Justin and Kate had been bumping uglies for a while now, but I didn’t think they were heading to the altar anytime soon. At least, they shouldn’t. They didn’t even live in the same city. How the heck was that supposed to work out? Exactly. It wouldn’t.
When Justin spotted me, I raised my glass in a toast to him. He nodded his head up in greeting, then turned his attention back to Kate. The other members of Justin’s band were drifting around the room. There were around six thousand of them, I swear. Okay, maybe not, but however many there really were, it was too many. Bands should be small and simple.
Other bands were here too. The three members of Holeshot, and most of the members of Poetic Bliss, the chick band that had replaced us at Pete’s Bar. The drummer, Meadow, was hanging out by a purple-and-pink painting with her girlfriend, Cheye…something. I don’t know. I couldn’t remember. All I knew about her was she used to dig Kiera. Maybe she still did? Yeah, wouldn’t surprise me if she was lusting over Kellan’s wife. Maybe they made out from time to time? Mmmm, that was a pleasant thought.
Realigning the stiffy growing in my pants, I turned around to find something else to focus on. Denny and his wife were standing right in front of me. Denny’s dark eyes were wide as he took in my outfit. “Interesting suit. Very…red,” he said. His voice had a light Australian accent to it that girls went crazy for. I practiced it as often as I could, so I had it down; I practically sounded like I was from there.
“Yeah? Thanks, mate. That means a ton coming from a bloke like you.” Nailed it. I should apply for dual citizenship, since I was nearly a native.
Denny frowned while his wife, Abby, laughed. “Please stop trying to sound like me,” he said. “It’s embarrassing.”
With a wink, I told him, “For you, maybe, but the sheilas go crazy for this crap. Practically tear my clothes off when they hear how awesome my voice is.”
Abby laughed a little harder while Denny cringed. “I can guarantee you they don’t think it’s awesome.”
“Please. You’re just upset that we were almost brothers, until you lost your woman to Light-Socket Hair over there.” I jerked my thumb over to where Kellan was standing with Hailey, who was his half sister, or some shit like that. Denny and Kiera used to date until Kiera dumped Denny for Kellan. I think that’s how it went. The details were fuzzy. If the drama didn’t have to do with me, I didn’t pay much attention. With a smile, I told Denny, “I’d be upset over missing out on being related to me too. I’m pretty amazing.”
“So I’ve heard,” Denny said, his jaw tight. Then he smiled and added, “Actually, that’s the one thing I’m thankful to Kellan for. I think I would wither and die in your shadow.” He let out a sad sigh. “I’m not man enough to be your brother. I’ll just have to settle for being your manager.”
His lips quirked like he was joking, but I thought he made an excellent point. I raised my glass to him as he started pulling Abby away; she was still laughing. “You make a valid argument, sir,” I said in my regular, non-accented voice. “Cheers.” I downed the rest of my champagne.
I was just wondering how much the D-Bags paid Denny and Abby to manage the band when I felt someone tugging on my arm; a little of the champagne in my second glass splashed onto the floor. “Watch it,” I said, snapping my head around.
Matt was standing there, beads of perspiration on his forehead. He seriously looked ill. “We’re on,” he choked out.
Feeling a little sorry for the pathetic specimen of a man in front of me, I handed him my drink. “Here, drink this.” Without hesitation, he gulped it down, then handed me back the empty glass. Wow, he really looked like shit. If he was this torn up, maybe he really shouldn’t go through with it. “Dude…you gonna hurl?”
Matt frowned. “I’ll be fine. I just want to get this over with.”
Nodding, I suddenly realized there was one positive thing that I could look forward to from this unnecessary spectacle. “So…where we going for the bachelor party? Vegas? New York? Bangkok?” I couldn’t even say that last one without sniggering. Bangkok…