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“It was like three minutes ago.”
“Exactly. Before.”
Before what?
Maybe before you were a jerk to her?
They headed to the back of the stage, where Mikey gave them a relieved look. That quickly morphed into anger.
“Where the hell have you been?” Mikey demanded as he stormed toward Jolie. “The guys are out there on their own, trying to keep things going. You knew what time you were going on, so what the fuck have you been doing?”
“Hey!” Brand stepped between them. “Do not speak to her like that.”
Mikey stared up at him in shock, his mouth opening and closing.
Okay, yeah. Brand wasn’t known for his diplomacy. And he’d said far worse to people for far less.
But this was Jolie. And Mikey didn’t get to talk to her that way.
“You do not swear at her. Get me?” Brand growled.
“Brand,” she whispered. “Don’t.”
“Do you get me?” he repeated, glaring down at Mikey.
“Yeah, uh. I get you.” Mikey adjusted his suit jacket sleeves. A nervous tic. “But she needs to get out there.”
“She’s going.” Brand turned to Jolie, who was gaping at him as if he’d grown another head. “Are you ready?”
She took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. Why did she look like she was going to vomit?
“You don’t have to go out there,” he told her gently.
“Actually, she does,” Mikey said.
Brand spun to him. “No, she doesn’t.”
“Right… yeah… sure.”
Brand was a big guy. Tall and muscular. Intimidating. And he wasn’t scared to use any of that to his advantage when needed.
“I’m going on,” Jolie said. “Just… I’m fine. Thanks for all your help.”
Well, that was a dismissal if ever he’d heard one.
She took several steps toward the stage, then hesitated. Andy, one of their crew, moved up to her with her guitar. She stepped back, looking ill.
Fuck.
He strode over, unable to hold himself back.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, placing his hand on her lower back.
“I just… I can’t play. I can’t.”
“Then don’t,” he said simply. If it made her this shaky and pale to even think about playing, then she wouldn’t do it.
End of story.
