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Dalton doesn’t meet my eye. “Dax has nothing to lose,” he says finally. “What happens if I put it all out there and she laughs in my face?”
I don’t have too many comforting words. I’ve never had an issue attracting women, and honestly I’ve always been in Dax’s position up until now.
“There’s a good chance she won’t,” I finally say, just to say something. Dalton’s face darkens and he looks away again.
It probably wasn’t the best thing to say, but it’s really damn late and my history with Jack proves I’m not the best at advice. I slap a comforting hand on his shoulder and guide him back to the VIP section before I say anything that makes things worse.
Kara is back onstage. Evie is talking with Tori, and her face lights up when I join them.
“Nick!” she says. “Backstage was so cool. Almost wish I would have gone into music.” She makes a face. “On the other hand, I can’t carry a note to save my life.”
“There’s auto-tune,” I remind her.
“I don’t think even auto-tune could bail me out,” she says. “I’ll have to just settle for observing the rock star life from afar.”
“Join the club,” Tori says. “I’d never be here if I hadn’t been Kara’s best friend since grade school.”
First Dalton, now Tori. “Is everyone here old friends of Kara’s?” I ask.
“For sure,” she says. “Everyone that Dax didn’t bring, that is.” A note in her voice makes me think that she’s not a huge fan of Kara’s boyfriend either, or maybe just not of his guests. Get in line, lady.
She points around the ring, “Kylie and Jada were on the basketball team with us in middle school. Sam and Jason lived in the same building as Dalton and Kara. LaToya and Amber are her cousins.” She’s about to go on but then she waves a hand. “And the rest are from various sports and schools, friends collected over the years. But,” she smiles proudly (and a little drunkenly), “I’ve been here since the beginning.”
“She’s lucky to have so many friends,” Evie says.
My skeptical side wonders how many of these friends came out of the woodwork when Kara got big. Tons of people from my past had emerged too when I was first getting featured in Forbes. I’d told them to get lost. Of course they’d repeated what my father often told me, that I’d forgotten where I’d come from. I’d always reply with the same answer — believe me, I wish I could.
Evie’s hand rests over mine, and I turn to see her looking up at me with concern. I smile, vanishing the sullen thoughts to a more appropriate time. Right now I need to stay in the moment, enjoy this simple, carefree night in Paris with the woman I’m falling steadily for by the minute.
Tori introduces us to a few others in the friend group and we make polite chit-chat for another hour before Kara makes her final bows, getting off the stage at an impressive 3 a.m.
Evie tries to hide a yawn, and I struggle to suppress one of my own. We’ve been at it all day, after getting very little sleep last night, and I’m ready to fall into our big feather bed back at the hotel and sleep with her nestled in my arms.
Of course, we have to make one stop first.
“Do you remember the way to the dressing room?” I ask Evie.
“Are you sure?” she asks, understanding my intentions. “Shouldn’t we wait until she comes out?”
I shake my head and lean forward, whispering in her ear, “I’m ready to take you back home to bed and I’m not waiting on anyone a moment longer.”
Her mouth quirks in amusement and she stands, still holding my hand.
We say our goodbyes, pointedly ignoring Brent, and Cheryl. When Evie moves toward Dax, I give her a quick shake of my head. She trusts me and pivots, giving Tori one last hug. Then we head toward the back.
The huge club is emptying, the lights coming on to reveal the disaster zone left behind. My jacket is out there somewhere and I abandon it as another casualty of the night.
After slipping a burly security guard a hundred, we find Kara’s door backstage. Evie knocks lightly, and Kara cracks the door, her face lighting up at the sight of us.
“Give it to me straight,” she says, after letting us in.
“It was great,” I say. “Way better than I expected. On the way back here I only heard people talking about what a good time they had.”
“You speak French?” Kara challenges.
“Yes,” I say. “And may I say you’re a little suspicious of a compliment.”
She shrugs, turning back to the mirror where she’s wiping off her makeup. “Part of the game. I’m sure you’re used to over-the-top flattery.”
