Free Groupie/Rock Star Bundle by Ginger Voight Page B

He’d made me feel more needed and more desired than
I’d ever felt before in my life. He made me feel pretty, and
feminine, and sexy. So how could he go from her to me or me back to
her?
    It was the unsolvable riddle that drove me
midtown to meet them at a hip new fusion restaurant everyone that
was anyone went to be seen. I convinced myself I had to know the
truth so I could put it all behind me when I returned to the “real
world.” It was either that or I must have taken up masochism
sometime in the past few days.
    I got there early because I didn’t trust my
legs to carry me if I saw them cuddle together in one of the back
booths. I gathered my questions, none of which that addressed my
real curiosity, and patiently waited. The waiter brought me a wine
list but I decided there had been enough alcohol for one trip. I
asked for water.
    The minute they rounded the corner, led to the
table by the buxom hostess in a snug fitting black dress, I
immediately steeled my spine and tried to wipe all emotion from my
face.
    I didn’t stand up to greet them; I
just reached out a hand to welcome Lourdes. I barely spared Vanni a
glance as he bent toward me and gave me a friendly peck on the
cheek.
    I hated him for that.
    “It’s good to see you again,” Lourdes purred,
deliberately omitting my name. My guess was she didn’t remember
it.
    “Likewise,” I said with a sweet phony smile
that mirrored hers. I briefly stole a look at Vanni, whose dark
eyes seemed to speak volumes in a language I was not familiar. I
didn’t speak Cheating Dirt Bag, nor did I wish to learn.
    The waiter came to our table and
took our order. Lourdes predictably ordered a small vegetable dish,
whereas Vanni got a more robust meal that included beef. Evidently
he hadn’t subscribed the vegetarian/vegan lifestyle of some of his
band mates. This Philly boy no doubt still ordered cheesesteak that
nearly came out of the bottom of a greasy bag. As a lover of food
myself that made me feel slightly more compatible, and a little
more superior.
    Since someone else was footing the tab I wasn’t
going to waste free food on a salad. I ordered the
seafood.
    Both Vanni and Lourdes canoodled on one side of
the booth, his arm draped casually around her like a second coat.
They sipped their wine and I cleared my throat. There was no point
dragging things out, I jumped in with both feet.
    “So how did you two meet?” I asked,
more to her than to him.
    She gave him a sexy smile. “You tell her,
honey.”
    My gut tightened as I looked over at him
expectantly.
    “It was one of Jasper’s parties, of course,” he
said with an unreadable expression on his face. “I was the musical
talent.”
    “I was just eye candy,” she murmured with a coy
grin.
    He glanced down at her. “I saw her in the front
row and thought she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I
knew I had to meet her, so I stalked her backstage after the gig
was over.”
    Stalked, I thought to myself. Such
an appropriate word. Like a wild cat on the Serengeti. I hoped the
disgust didn’t show on my face.
    She wound her fingers in his. “He took me home
that night in a hansom cab. He sang to me as we rode through the
streets of New York. When the cab stopped he sweetly asked for
permission to kiss me, and of course I couldn’t say no.”
    “Of course,” I eked out through clenched teeth.
If either of them caught the catch in my voice, neither one
indicated as much.
    “I called Jasper the next day and asked for her
number. At first he didn’t want to give it to me, convinced I was
up to absolutely no good, but then I admitted I had found my
muse.”
    My eyebrow rose.
    She cuddled against him. “He wrote a song just
for me. It’s the first track they’re releasing off of the
album.”
    “Which one?” I asked, partly because I had to
know for the article. It would be great to include that in the
press kits to generate interest. But mostly I wanted to hold out
hope it was any other song