Chapter 3

That didn’t stop me from dressing in my tightest black top, the sleeves capping my deltoids as if to emphasize how big my arms were. My jeans, also black, were the ones that hugged everything the best, and biker boots capped it all. Yeah, I wanted to be noticed, even if I’d get nothing out of it except mild flirtation. It was enough. I’d need to take a change of shirt, though. I sweat a lot while dancing.

I gave Bessie some attention, brushed her cat hair off my clothes, and went to work.

* * * *

“Ben, can you go unlock the stage door so the band can start setting up for the show?” Pearce asked as he passed me in the hallway.

“On it.” It was seven-thirty in the evening and Dawson was manning the door for the moment.