Phoebe looks at him. “Underplay?”
He answers, “It’s when a big-name band performs in a small venue and instantly sells out. It helps get a new album noticed.”
“I think they’re a little nervous after coming off the momentum of their first two albums and because of the split. I think they just want to make sure they keep their groove going.”
The door finally opens and Ivy, covered by an umbrella, climbs in and sits next to Leif. She seems a little nervous and she’s definitely been crying. Leif leans over and whispers something in her ear. She answers him and he makes a face.
The driver slides the SUV into the traffic and spins a tight circle before accelerating. I stay twisted in my seat, my eyes glued on Ivy. “Is everything okay?”
She frowns and looks out the window? muttering, “Nothing that you need to worry about.”
My eyes flash to Leif’s and he shakes his head, making sure his eyes are locked on mine. He’s signaling me that everything is not okay. I turn around in my seat and watch the people on the street and the lights turning red and green, just waiting to get out of this car and talk to her.
We arrive at 6 Delancey Street, and it’s a mob scene. People are everywhere, waiting in line to get in, scalpers hovering to sell their tickets at a markup, and fans are camped out hoping to catch a glimpse of the lucky ones who got tickets and maybe even the band members themselves. Ellie somehow managed to get tickets for us. She’s been really on the ball and I’m thankful for her help.
The door opens and immediately we’re ushered through the crowds and into the club. Garrett and Nix stop at the bar to get drinks.
“Do you care what we get?” Garrett asks me.
I shrug my shoulders. “Anything is fine with me.”
I’ve had enough to drink the past couple of nights, so I’ll lie low on the alcohol tonight. I turn to ask Ivy what she wants, but she and Leif already went ahead. The place is split in two—one side is the bar and the other side is the club. On the club side, the room is decorated with big white wreaths and candelabras set on the balcony tables, and a violinist is standing to one side of the stage. A band I don’t know much about is already playing, but my mind isn’t on the show. It’s on Ivy and what’s going on.
As soon as I get the opportunity, I make my way over to her and stand behind her. Her hair’s pulled up on top of her head, and she’s wearing a tight sleeveless white dress with high-heeled silver sandals and her sapphire earrings, which sparkle in the light from the stage—she looks fucking amazing. But she’s also a little twitchy and constantly tucking pieces of her hair in place. I can tell the conversation with Damon really got to her.
“What’s going on?” I whisper in her ear loud enough so she can hear me but not loud enough so anyone else can.
She turns her head. “That was a really shitty thing to do!”
I whip her around to look at me. “What are you talking about?”
“Not showing up for the show so you could go out on a date with Amy.”
I sigh. “That’s not what happened.”
“Did you sleep with her last night?”
My jaw tenses. “No,” I snap and peg her with my eyes. “If I did, would you be jealous?”
“No.” She exhales. She presses her bright red lips together. “It’s none of my business anyway. Guess I was just curious. I shouldn’t have asked,” she says, shrugging and then looking back toward the stage.
“You can ask me anything, Ivy. You should know that.”
She doesn’t answer in any way—no words and no body language as she focuses on the stage.
I take the silence to mean that conversation is over, and so I shift back to my original question. “I asked you what’s going on with Damon. Why are you upset?”
She twists her head back toward me and her body leans into mine as her lips brush my ear. My hands move to her waist and I squeeze my fingers a little.
“Drinks for everyone,” Garrett says, shoving glasses toward both of us.
She steps forward and turns toward Garrett to take the glass. Wanting to close the last few inches she just put between us, I take a step in her direction and snatch the drink that Garrett practically shoves in my face.
“What the hell is this?” I ask, pointing to the pink straw extending out of the glass filled with ice and a blue liquid.
“It’s a mind eraser.”
Within moments Ivy sucks all of the liquid out of the glass in one swallow.
I follow suit and the cold liquid slides down my throat. “Fuck!” I yell. “That gave me a head rush.”
Ivy actually laughs, loudly. “It’s supposed to. That’s why it’s called a mind eraser.”
“Well, I’m done with those.”