The Fragile Line: Part One (The Fine Line #2) (8 page)

Damn.  What was this?  An episode of
American Muscle Confessions
?  With me as the shrink?  As displaced as his revelations were, I felt bad for the guy.  Seeing someone you love go down the wrong path must be hell. 

  “No one can predict the future,” I replied.  “There’s no way you could’ve known how it would affect him.”   

“Yeah.  Right,” he sighed. “Ah shit, it is what it is.  Can’t go back now, and there’s no use in trying.  We can only learn from it and move forward.”

I nodded, “He’ll come around.” 

“Maybe.  I hope he does.  But I can’t watch him go through it anymore.  And I can’t enable his self-destruction anymore either.  It’s not doing either of us any good.” 

I waited for him to explain what he meant, but the event planner cut our conversation short when she announced that Dalton and Marc had ten minutes before going on stage.  Dalton chugged the rest of his Jack and Coke before extending his hand, “See ya around, Matt.” 

I shook his hand and watched as he and Marc were escorted out of the loft through the back hallway.  I’d have a few minutes to meet Chloe at the door before they went on.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

~Chloe~

Present Day

“I thought you said you’d get us in,” Emily muttered in annoyance when the doorman refused to let us into the club.

“Chill, Em,” I snapped, unable to hide the irritation that her impatience sparked in me. “I’ll get in, but I don’t need to bring you with me.”   

She giggled, “I know, hon. I’m just giving you shit.  You know I love you.  It’s just that we’ve been out here a while, and I think I’m getting frost bite.  Oh my God, what if I lose my fingers?” 

“You’re not really dressed for the weather, are you, Em?” I joked, eyeing her skimpy royal blue strapless dress, her long black flowing hair as the only thing keeping her shoulders warm. 

I had left my coat in the car, knowing that Rain didn’t have a coat check, but at least my waitress clothes kept me warmer than if I were in my regular “clubbing” clothes.  I sort of hated the fact that I was going out wearing my work uniform—black pants, flats, and a white button up shirt—but this was a last-minute decision, and I didn’t have time to go home to change first.  Instead, I embellished the outfit by adding a variety of bracelets and necklaces that I had stored in my handbag, removing my undershirt, and undoing the top few buttons of my shirt showing just a tiny bit of my hot-pink bra to give my outfit a little highlight.

What was taking Matt so long?  In his text, he said he’d give my name to the doorman, but it hadn’t been done yet.  I was getting restless.  I needed a drink.  And the touch of a man. 

“Emily, maybe we should just go,” Elle said, her brown wavy bob swooshing up with a gust of wind.  The brutal wind had forced her eyeliner to run from the outer corners of her eyes, making it look like she had been crying black tears.  “Seeing some stupid celebrity isn’t worth this.  Look,” she pointed to the corner bar across the street. “There’s no line there.  Let’s just go warm up there for a while.”

“Stupid celebrity?  Are you kidding, Elle? 
Marc Dav
is is here,” Emily replied in shock.  “Marc.  Davis.  We
LOVE
him, remember?  I would walk a hundred miles barefoot in snow to meet him! I don’t care how cold it is.  I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yeah, I get it.  Trust me, I’d jump him in a second if I had the chance.  But what makes you think we’re going to get anywhere near him, let alone meet him?” Elle folded her bare arms across her chest. “This place is crowded with women who are going to be trying to get his attention.  We’ll just be two of many.”

“Because we’re hotter than those other bitches.  And we’re willing to do whatever it takes to get his attention.  We’ll do anything.”  Emily took Elle by the shoulders, “
Anything.
  Right, Elle?”

I rolled my eyes as I began another text to Matt, thankful to be an outsider to their conversation.  Just as I was about to hit send, a warm arm found its place on my shoulder and smoothly pulled me toward an equally heated, solid body. 

Goosebumps erupted all over me as his heat contrasted with my icy skin and a deep voice whispered in my ear, “Hey, Pink.  Did you miss me?”

When I turned to face the man who took me in his arms, I couldn’t speak.  Because when Matt’s eyes met mine, the world stopped for a moment, my thoughts becoming an incoherent mess.  One thing was clear, though.  He looked damn good in his black security t-shirt. 

“C’mon, let’s get you inside.”  His hands brushed up and down my arms.  “You’re not really dressed for the weather, are you?” 

“Ha!  That’s what
she
said to
me
!” Emily chimed in. 

Matt turned his attention to Emily.  “These must be your friends.”

“Yes,” I replied.  “Elle, Em, meet Matt.” 

“Hi,” Emily offered her hand. 

Matt turned to me as he shook it, “Are all your friends named after letters?”

Before I could respond, Emily’s eyes lit up like she just had the best idea ever. 

“Any chance you might be able to get us close to Marc Davis?” she asked.

“Emily,” I scolded, embarrassed by her urgent transparency, “he’s already getting us into the club.  Isn’t that enough?”

“It’s no problem,” Matt affirmed.  “Marc is actually about to go on stage with his dad, but you guys are welcome in the VIP loft for the after-party.” 

Emily and Elle squealed in delight as I mouthed a thank you to Matt.  He walked us to the front of the line, while several people taunted us for skipping ahead.  I bit my tongue and followed Matt’s lead in ignoring their rude comments.

Upon entering the building, we weaved through the sweltering crowd toward the bar area, my internal chill instantly subsiding from the radiating body heat in the club.  I momentarily considered taking my shirt off altogether but decided I didn’t want or need to appear
that
desperate. 

I eyed the bar as Matt continued to walk past it. 

“Matt!” I shouted, but he couldn’t hear me over the pounding music and shrill voices around us.  When I tried again, and he still kept walking, I grabbed him by the arm.  “Wait!” 

He turned around and brought his ear to my face to hear me.

“I’m going to get a drink,” I said.

He looked at the overcrowded bar and shook his head no.  “If you want into the VIP loft, I need to take you there now.  I need to be in position before the announcement.” 

Emily stepped between us.  “C’mon, Chloe, don’t ruin this for us.  I’ve been waiting my whole life for this!” 

“You guys go ahead. I’ll be fine,” I shouted.  “I’ll catch up with you later.” 

Emily and Elle smiled, satisfied, while Matt’s face turned to a scowl. 

“There’s a bar in the loft, Chloe,” Matt replied. “It’ll only take a minute to get there.  In fact, you’ll get a drink a hell of a lot quicker there than you will here.”  

“Fine,” I said.  The sooner I could get a drink to help wipe away the thoughts of my sister and Ryan…the better.

He led us up the stairs to a balcony area scattered with high-top tables…no chairs.  The sea of heads in the crowd on the dance floor below jumped in unison to the beat.  I never realized how big this club actually was until seeing it now from this height. 

After crossing the balcony, he held open the door to the private loft for us to enter.  He whispered something to the security guard covering the door, then smiled at me.

“Have fun, Pink,” he winked.

“Aren’t you coming in with us?”

“Not now.  Workin’.  Promise me something, though?” 

I nodded. 

“Wait for me.” 

Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to do exactly that.  Everything about that fact confused me.  I watched him disappear into the crowd before I entered the loft, all the while admiring his stunning physique and trying to figure out the calming effect he had on me. 

As I walked into the room and the door closed behind me, the noise subsided considerably.  The bass still vibrated through the glass walls that extended from the floor to the ceiling and overlooked the floor below, but in this private room, voices could be more easily heard over the music. 

People were scattered throughout the loft, but it was nowhere near as crowded as the rest of the club.  I remained by the glass wall, watching through the laser lights below as Matt made his way through the crowd to the stage.  If you could even call it a stage.  For such a huge building, the square stage that rose about waist-high and only stretched out about twelve feet on each side seemed a bit inadequate, especially since the back half of it remained permanently occupied by the DJ booth. 

Emily and Elle approached me, shot glasses in hand, and Elle handed me one. 

“What’s this?” I asked, as I took it from her.

“
Kamikaze, baby!” she replied.

“Thanks, sweetie,” I acknowledged.  “Cheers to you finally getting to meet your boyfriend tonight!”

I had almost forgotten what I came here to do, but the cool lime taste of the shot instantly reminded me.  I licked my lips after slamming it. “C’mon, I’ll get the next one.”

We ordered our drinks and downed two more shots at the bar—a
hot damn
and an
absolute bitch
—before I heard the music stop and a woman’s voice coming through the speakers. 

“Hello, ladies,” her seductive voice purred into the microphone. 

The women in the audience screamed and shouted.  I walked to the glass wall, drink in hand, to get a better view.  Emily and Elle followed. 

“And gentlemen,” the woman continued. 

The men in the crowd hollered and howled in applause. 

Security guards surrounded the stage, Matt now one of them.  I wanted to direct my attention elsewhere, but my eyes were fixated on him.  I loved how strong and in control he appeared at the moment, in front of the charged-up people that encircled the stage.  Then, he looked at me.  I don’t mean looked up toward the loft…I mean, directly
at
me and into my soul.  Like his gaze was designed to find mine. 

I lifted my drink towards him as if to say ‘cheers’ and took a sip.  He winked in reaction. 

“Rain has hosted some amazing entertainers since we opened our doors a few months ago,” the woman continued, “but nothing compares to who we have here for you tonight.” 

Applause erupted.  Matt’s attention diverted back to the crowd.

“How many of you have heard of a little show called
American Muscle?
” she paused for the audience response.  And she got it ten-fold.  “That’s right people, in the house tonight we’ve got a father who warms our hearts”—more cheering exploded— “and a son who melts.  Our.  Panties.” 

The ladies in the club went crazy with that.  Some of them screamed.  Some of them began chanting Marc’s name.  Others hugged each other while bouncing up and down.  Emily and Elle did all of the above.  And hell, I didn’t give two shits whether or not I saw Marc Davis, but I was here to have fun and forget the events that brought me here tonight, so I happily jumped right into their celebration. 

Feeding from the energy of the crowd, the MC’s sultry voice became more animated, “It is my great pleasure to introduce to you tonight…the stars of
American Muscle
…Dalton and Marc Daaaavis!” 

More cheers broke out on the floor and in the loft as Dalton and Marc took stage and waved to the audience, a dance beat providing the backdrop to their entry.  Marc carried a bottle of champagne in hand, his fans going wild as he shook it and sprayed the contents all over them.  

Matt didn’t seem to be happy about it, though.  Especially when he got doused with it.  Something about the grimace on his face mixed with the fact that he kept in complete control, arms folded across his chest and not moving an inch, caused me to giggle.  I bet he was pissed.

The MC handed both men their own mics and stepped into the background.  Dalton said a few “thank yous” into the microphone as the music died down, followed by a sexy “hey” by Marc.  Naturally, anything Marc said resulted in immediate screams from the women in the club. 

“As you may or may not know,” Dalton started, “my son and I are here to make an important announcement tonight.  You may be thinking to yourself, ‘why here?  Why did they come from a big city like Vegas to this Midwestern town?’  The answer to that, friends, is that this little town is where I was born and raised.”

A few claps and cheers resonated from the crowd, but like me, most people listened attentively, wanting to hear more. 

“Before I moved to Vegas…before the glitz and glamour…before the lights and cameras…before the
American Muscle
TV show was even a figment of my imagination…I was a young married man with a newborn child,” he patted Marc on the shoulder, “working at a little car repair garage called Davis Automotive, right here in this very town. My father owned that shop, and it’s where I learned everything I know about cars.  When he passed on and the shop went under, well, I guess you could say I took it hard.  So hard that I packed up my family and fled from this town for a new start.  I’ve found success since then, in more ways than one.  And now it’s time to get back to my roots.

“If you watch the show, you know that Marc and I have been butting heads a bit lately.  Without going too far into our personal details, let it be known that we’ve come to a mutual agreement to repair what’s left of our relationship.  And in order to come together as father and son, we’ve made the difficult decision to part ways as far as the show is concerned, which means Marc will not be a regular cast member on the next season of
American Muscle
.” 

Gasps and boos sounded from the crowd. 

“Don’t worry now, folks. Marc and I will maintain our relationship on a personal level, and the show will go on, stronger than ever.  Before I get into how we’re going to make that happen, Marc has a little something to tell you that is going to ease your minds and your hearts.  Marc, why don’t you share your news.”