Page 5 of Worth Every Game
Her furious glare meets mine. “Do you even know what the word ‘amateur’ means?” she bites out, going all tigress on me again. “It means you don’t get paid. And I do get paid. Just because we can’t all be Mr Moneybags like you, doesn’t mean it isn’t still worthwhile cash.”
Mr Moneybags?I can’t even work out if that’s an insult or not. It sounds like a compliment, but it definitely wasn’t meant as one. Elly’s always taken issue with the fact I have a lot of money, as if me working hard and making millions is something I’ve done deliberately to annoy her. Or at least that’s how it feels when she niggles me like this.Two can play at this game.
“Good to know.” I make a show of glancing at my watch. “Your rent’s due at the end of the week. Keep saving those pennies, and maybe you’ll be able to pay on time this month. And if you can’t, I’ll sit outside the front door and growl until you can.”
Elly’s mouth opens wide, and her gaze moves to Kate. “How are you related to this arsehole? How is that possible?”
I chuckle, and Elly glares at me.
“Oh, El.” Kate’s tone is placating and apologetic all at once. “Ignore him. I’ll strap him into a taxi and gag him. That way, it won’t matter if he kicks and screams.”
Kate gives me a closed-lipped smile, seemingly pleased with her joke, and it’s right on the tip of my tongue to retort that Elly would probably enjoy having me bound and gagged. She’s probably into that kinky shit.
I open my mouth to crack the joke, then stop myself.What am I thinking, laying on the sexual innuendo in front of Kate?That’s my cue to leave. I’m fucking knackered. If I stay here any longer, I’ll say something unforgivably inappropriate. I give them a bow and announce, “Goodbye, ladies.”
“Night, Jack. Thanks for everything tonight. You’re the best.” Kate blows me a kiss, and Elly steps to one side to let me past.
For the briefest second, my entire body is alongside hers on the threshold. The hostility radiating off her is palpable, so sharp it could tear my coat and destroy the cashmere.Fuck it,I definitely don’t like this state of affairs. Bring back the slightly antagonistic flirtation; that’s always worked perfectly for me and Elly.
“Hey, Jack,” she whispers, so low I’m sure Kate can’t hear it. “If you come and hear me sing, I promise I’ll listen to you growl.”
My heart gives an awkward thud.What the fuck is that about?I pull back to see her eyes twinkling, and a smile creeping in at the edges of her pink lips.That’s more like it. Seeing my slightly stunned reaction, she looks delighted with herself, like she thinks she’s won the match point.
I’m still staring at her when she says, “See you Saturday. Or not.” She gives a little shrug like she doesn’t care either way.
“I’ll be there.”
It’s her turn to look surprised, but she recovers quickly, giving me a little nod. “Okay.”
It’s a simple response, but her voice is a husky whisper that echoes in my mind long after the bitter wind outside ought to have blown it away.
2
ELLY
“Elly, table fourteen.” Marcia clicks her fingers and points where she wants me to go. She’s my boss, and she’s always stern—a fact that used to upset me until I realised it wasn’t personal. It’s how she copes with running a rowdy bar, and when she’s not in ‘boss mode’, she’s lovely. I’d never be able to handle a place like the Marchmont Arms, but Marcia can control the punters with the merest raise of one of her artificially thickened brows. She’s so competent I spend my shifts half in awe of her.
I watch her drift through the bar, smiling at patrons and giving orders to other members of staff, but I don’t move. There’s a strange nervous sensation that’s sitting in my lower abdomen, and it’s knocking me off my work. It’s been there all evening. I’m pretty sure it’s not about my upcoming set either, because I’ve played here hundreds of times.
Maybe it’s Jack.
I’m trying to ignore the fact that he’s supposedly coming to see me play.Jack Lansen.What a fucking arsehole. I knew he never took me seriously. He always had half a sneer on his lipswhenever he asked me what I was doing, if my music had taken off yet, or if I was going to be releasing a single anytime soon. Oh sure, that sneer was concealed beneath an ice-thin façade of good manners and false chivalry, but I knew it was there, hiding behind that annoyingly handsome face of his. Dark hair, blue eyes, the crook in his nose from when he broke it playing rugby that somehow makes him evenmorehandsome, and his jaw so square it doesn’t even look real.
The way he talked about me being late to pay my rent… as if it’s something I do on purpose, shows he’s completely out of touch. How I live, monitoring every penny I spend and having to skimp on essentials so I can justify the occasional night out with my friends, is probably so alien that he can’t even comprehend it. I don’t have pots of savings to dip into whenever I want to treat myself. I struggle to pull the rent together every single month, and my job here is the only stable income I have.
But overhearing him telling Kate not to hire me… thatreallyannoyed me. He was cock-blocking my career.Arsehole. But even though I want to get mad about it, I can’t quite manage it because… he could be right.
Nico needs the best, and you aren’t it.
It felt like a hit to the face when he said that, and I couldn’t even disagree with him. If Nico could have Amy Moritz performing at his birthday, why on earth would he want me? He wouldn’t. And Ihaven’tsung in the lobby of a Hawkston Hotel, let alone at a billionaire’s birthday party.
If I had been alone with Kate, I might have made an excuse. Sing for Nico Hawkston? Nope. I can’t do that. But with Jack staring at me like he knew exactly what I was thinking, could read every doubt and hesitation as if it were a manifesto that backed up every point he’d made, I couldn’t say no.
But—fuck me—what have I gotten myself into?
Once upon a time, I imagined I’d make it to the top. Platinum albums and sold out arenas. But after years of graft and constant rejections, I had to be realistic. Maybe this is where I belong. Maybe the basement of the Marchmont Arms is the pinnacle of my career.Maybe this is where dreams come to die.
I shrug the thought away. I like it here. It’s familiar. Comfortable. I can handle this.