Rock Chick (Rock Chick, #1)

“Indy, you leave this apartment, I’ll come lookin’ for you.”


“Jeez, we haven’t even slept together and already you don’t trust me.”

“I’ve known you all your life not to mention the fact that my idiot sister is in the next room and when you two get together it’s like Laurel and Hardy do Denver.”

“It is not!”

“What about that time you bought scalped tickets to a Garth Brooks concert from Carmine Alfonzo?”

Carmine Alfonzo, better known as Uncle Carmine. We’d known him since we were seven, he used to ride the squad car with Dad.

“He was in disguise!” I defended myself.

“He was wearing a baseball hat,” Lee returned.

“Yes, but he’s a Cubs fan, he was wearing a Sox hat. His head should have been on fire.”

The sides of Lee’s eyes crinkled in a grin that didn’t involve his mouth but was nevertheless ultra-effective and let go of my hair.

“We aren’t finished yet,” he told me.

“Yes we are,” I retorted.

Lee’s crinkles disappeared and his face got serious.

“This is happening between you and me,” he threatened.

I wasn’t entirely sure what “this” meant since he announced to his mother and sister that we were “together”. Considering what I did know was that a goodly part of it involved us being naked, in his bed, participating in activities which required my avid participation, I wasn’t going to have any part of it.

“No, it isn’t,” I snapped back.

“We’ll talk about it later.”

“No, we won’t.”

His eyes narrowed. “Do I need to kiss you again?”

I took a hasty step back and watched my toe draw a pattern in the carpet.

“No,” I muttered.

“Christ, I need to get my head examined.”

My head snapped up.

“What does that mean?” I asked angrily.

“Nothin’. Be here when I get back.”

“Sure.”

Not on his life.

*

Ally Nightingale had yet to decide on a career. Currently, she was on her one hundred and eleventh bartending job. She already had a Bachelor’s degree (majored in political science and squeaked by), was a certified radiology technician (a tough gig but she saw it through and worked the MRI machine at Swedish Medical Center for two months before quitting, Malcolm’s head nearly exploded after that one) as well as a certified nail technician.

Of all those things, Ally gave good nails but she found sitting in a chair all day filing, polishing and forming plastic glop into nail shapes was not compatible with her energetic personality.

Luckily, bartending left most of her days free and whenever she needed a bit of cash (which was often), she worked part-time for me at Fortnum’s.

Before coming over with Kitty Sue, Ally had gone to my house and chosen an Ally-outfit for me. If I was to choose a search-for-Rosie outfit or a night-after-Liam outfit it would have included Levi’s. But then most of my outfits included Levi’s unless I had a backstage pass.

Ally had chosen a denim skirt that was mini in the sense that it hit five inches above my knees (not mini in the way Ally wore them, which was five centimeters below her ass), my vintage Rolling Stones t-shirt (I wasn’t a Stones fan but the shirt was way cool), a wide, red belt with a big silver buckle with a delicate filigree-and-braided design and my red cowboy boots.

After Lee and Kitty Sue left, I filled Ally in on the whole Rosie Debacle and my plan to find him. She (not surprisingly) immediately volunteered her assistance and I (equally not surprisingly) took her up on it.

I showered and dressed while Ally tried (and failed) to call Duke.

Then we went to the bookstore to help Jane. With Duke and Rosie out, Jane was alone at the store and was in a tizzy because she was handling the espresso machine by herself and thus, actually had to speak to people. Jane was not good at speaking to people, she could shelve a mean book and was really good at tidying, vacuuming, updating our computer book inventory but customer relations was not her strong suit.

Ally and I worked alongside Jane until the morning crush was over. The regulars weren’t happy that Rosie wasn’t there but we’d all been working alongside Rosie enough to be able to do a fair imitation. Still, it wasn’t the same.

Then Ally swung by Rosie’s house on the off chance he was there. This was off-limits for me because Lee might have found out Rosie’s address using one of his mysterious “ways” and might be there and I didn’t want to bump into Lee just yet. Especially not searching for Rosie or the diamonds, he didn’t know my plan and I wasn’t about to let on.

And anyway, business on a weekday didn’t really die down until after the lunch hour and I couldn’t leave Jane on her own.

While Ally was doing the stop off at Rosie’s place, my cell rang.

It was Dad.

“Hey Daddy-o,” I said.

“What’s this about you hookin’ up with Lee?”

Shit.

Kitty Sue.

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