Jack Who? (Book 1 Draft Version)

PART TWO~CHAPTER : 31

***

“Thanks for coming!” Liz beamed as Reed parked. As a group, we had arrived in the SUV. “Sometimes it sucks being the only girl in the band. You're a good sport to do this.”

I shot a smile of fake enthusiasm although my motives in coming had not been to keep Liz company. My intentions fell somewhere between not holding Jack back and sticking like glue to him while in this place.

'Cherry Pie'

I took in the gaudy neon sign and the equally gaudy club name flashing above the door of our destination. Embarrassment flooded my cheeks when we walked under it and through the heavy door. Jack pulled me close, and despite his bandmates complaints, steered us to a table not so close to the stage.

I ignored the young woman, who clad only in a G-string, was gyrating around a pole to the beat of “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails. Jack's hand settled comfortingly on my bare leg, and he ignored the stage as they talked.

The drinks kept coming, and the guys grew rowdier. By the second hour, they were recognized, and free drinks began floating over with frequency--as well as a slew of topless women wanting autographs and pictures.

I silently seethed through more than one picture with Jack and a near bare-assed girl. Unlike the other guys, he was turning down free lap dances, however, he had transformed into full Jack Stone persona.

When one girl squeezed her tits to the side of his face, while leaning across to get a tip from Reed, and Jack, with one of his smirks turned his head from her ample breast, I scooted from the table.

Pasting a smile, I requested of the margaritas I was drinking, “Order me another, guys, will you?” In the restroom, I closed in a stall and wished myself back at the house with Tristan and Dax.

Is this how Jack would act with groupies on this next tour? But I knew without a doubt the answer.

As Jack Stone, wild ways and the love of women was part of his reputation. It was his job as much as it had once been my job at the casino to dangle across the table and flirt every hundred-dollar chip from even the oldest geezers.

The restroom door squeaked open, and the music was louder for a moment before subduing again.

“Marissa?” Liz hollered and rapped on my locked stall in passing. “Are we having fun yet, girlfriend?”

I managed a witty retort and flushed. Then, instead of washing up and leaving, I dallied at the vanity mirror with Liz, and refused the girl's dally on a pocket mirror.

“Does it bother you? Those hoes all over Jack?” With the treat on the mirror sorted out, Liz rolled up a hundred-dollar bill as she spoke.

“Why?” I warily shot back, my words unintentionally sharp. Chagrined, I toyed with my reflection's earring.

Unperturbed, Liz leaned to the wall mirror wiping at her nose. “Every boyfriend I have ever had could not handle it.”

I thought of the guys that must drool all over the only girl in the band, backstage, and during meet and greets.

“Yeah. It bothers me. But I will learn to handle it.” I truthfully answered and earned a smile from the other woman.

“Jack is happy. Happier than any of us have seen him, ever. He's not going to screw it up.”

Randi had said near the same thing. I hoped I could believe that. Because I was happier than I had ever been.

Liz stopped at the bar en route to the table, and I continued to the table even though my seat was no longer empty. Almost naked girls covered every space including the guys laps. Jack's lap was empty, and this is where I went, easing myself down.