Even with the absence of light, I can tell he’s blushing at being caught ogling me. I’m flattered, but it barely registers over my nerves about tonight.
“Um, honestly, I hate these things. I hate anything social really. It’s awkward as hell and people come up and introduce themselves like you’re supposed to recognize them and give a shit.” He sighs. “God, I sound like a pretentious prick.”
“Nah. Just a slightly antisocial prick.”
He chuckles softly. “It’s just not my scene is all. But I invited you because we had a good time the other night—”
“Despite the awkward ‘it’s not you it’s me’ part,” I interrupt.
“Yes, aside from that,” he agrees with a grin. “But I was hoping to bring someone I actually enjoyed talking to so that this night wouldn’t be an entire waste.”
“Wow. I feel so special. I’ll try to be particularly witty this evening.”
“Thanks. I’d appreciate it.” He winks at me and surprising warmth spreads through me. “If you know any good jokes or how to tie a cherry stem with your tongue, tonight would be an excellent time to showcase those abilities.”
“Good to know,” I say with mock seriousness.
He elbows me lightly in the side. “I promise I’m kidding. But you’ll see, it gets really lame really quick and you start hoping someone chokes on an hors d’oeuvre just to relieve the monotony.”
“So why even go?”
His entire body goes rigid beside me. When he answers, it’s practically through gritted teeth. “Can’t really be avoided. Julian would cut us off if I weren’t at least trying to get officially into the business, so to speak. In his eyes, everything we do is pointless unless we get a major deal with a legit label.”
Sounded a lot like Dallas’s perspective. I could relate. “Julian?”
“Our financial backer. He was sitting up front with me when I drove you to the stage the other night.”
Ah. I’d wondered who that guy was. “I see. So he pulls all the strings?”
“All the ones not attached to instruments, yeah, pretty much.”
Afton’s voice is so much tighter than usual, I search my brain for ways to change the subject but come up empty.
“That seems . . . complicated.”
He sighs. “It can be. He’s also my uncle and pretty much the only person in my family who supports my decision to be a musician—or squander my potential and quash every dream my father has ever had for me, if you ask my parents—so yeah, it gets tense and messy from time to time. But that’s what keeps life interesting, right?”
Thankfully we’ve arrived at the restaurant before I have to answer. Afton pays the cabdriver, tipping way more than I would have, and the man practically leaps out and hurdles the hood in order to open the door for us. He gives Afton a card and tells him he can call him directly and he’ll pick us up when we’re ready.
Stepping aside, I raise my eyebrows at my date. “So this is how the other half lives? Good to know.”
“Other half?” He gives me a questioning smirk and I laugh.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a cabdriver offer to come back and get me. Or open my door. One almost ran me over when I didn’t get out fast enough.”
“You must not have been wearing that dress. Pretty sure that’s why he offered.” Afton winks at me and I shake my head.
Now I’m the one blushing, probably as deeply as the shade of red I’m wearing. He offers his arm and I take it. Walking in the back entrance into a private dining room, I feel a bit like a celebrity. And like a big fat phony. I’m a jeans and Chucks and ponytail walks into a greasy diner kind of girl. Not a designer shoes, sexy dress, updo using a private entrance to a swanky restaurant chick.
Tonight, I think as both my chin and my shoulders lift a bit higher than usual, maybe I’m both.