Random Encounter by Allyson Lindt

Eight

Adrienne

It was a night at a bar with co-workers. So why was I going through my closet, my pulse hammering in my ears, as I looked for the perfect outfit like I was getting ready for a hot date?

Because my co-workers were sizzling. I knew exactly who it was when Dustin called, I just didn’t know why he was calling me. When he texted me on the first day of beta testing, I’d saved his number. Re-read the silly note several times. And I’d been fixated on any praise from Phillip the same way. Every piece of encouragement he’d given me this week about my art was etched in my mind.

It was possible I had fantasies of doing anything he asked, as long as it was followed by good girl.

I needed to rein those thoughts in now. The two had been understanding about the random, weird things I tended to blurt out, but my word vomit would get a lot worse if I was daydreaming about fucking them while I was with them at the club.

Tonight was a night out with friends, and I wasn’t going to look like I was trying too hard. I’d pushed away a lot of my friends during my marriage to Sean, and I missed both them and just hanging out.

I moved aside little black dresses, a leather skirt, and a lace top that would be completely see-through without something underneath, to grab a faded Foo Fighters concert Tee to go with my favorite pair of jeans.

Heavy eyeliner and bright red lipstick finished the look. I stared at myself in the mirror for several seconds. Too much? Not enough?

If I was with friends, I’d do this. It was perfect.

The club wasn’t downtown. It was at the edge of a shopping center in Sugar House. The sign out front boasted live bands almost every night, and the parking lot was only about half full.

At least it should be easy to find the guys. I stepped inside, pausing just out of the flow of traffic to scan the room. The lights were low, but it was still easy to see that the tables weren’t any more full than the lot had been. Photos of bands lined the walls, several of them taken in this room.

“Addie.” Dustin’s shout carried about the loud chatter and drew my gaze and a smile. He waved me over to a table where Phillip and Brandon also sat, near the stage. Not that far from the stage was a huge difference. “What are you drinking?” He asked when I reached them.

“Cranberry juice.”

“With Vodka?”

“No... Just cranberry juice.” Because I was ninety, apparently. Also because I’d skipped dinner in the process of pretending I wasn’t obsessing about tonight, and I had to drive myself home.

“Don’t mind him,” Brandon said. “He doesn’t know how to react to people not drinking on his dime.”

Phillip pulled out the empty chair next to him and gestured for me to sit. “Not his fault. Free booze is the mating call of most sales representatives.”

“You make it sound like I’m fucking them.” Dustin set a glass of juice in front of me.

How did he do that? I hadn’t seen him leave or order.

“Nope. Pretty sure they’re the ones doing the fucking.” Brandon clucked.

I’d only talked to Brandon a few times in the last couple of days, but I liked him. One thing surprised me, though. “You said celebration, I figured more of the office would be here.”

“Most of the people we work with aren’t really...” the way Phillip wrinkled his nose was more like thought than distaste, “...bar people.”

I understood that. Graham and Cole weren’t either. I would’ve asked about inviting Luna, when Dustin called, but Cole had taken all three of them off the grid for the weekend. It was the only way he could guarantee Luna and Graham would put away the tech.

“Their loss.” Brandon twisted his seat toward the stage. “You’ll never hear a better band than this.”

Looking at the fact that every other table in the room was empty, I had my doubts. Brandon was probably biased. I didn’t need the best, though. I was here for the atmosphere, the company, and the view.

On the stage, a man with tattoos covering both arms and climbing up his neck from his tank top, stepped up to the mic. “All right, gang. We’ve got a favorite back tonight. Let’s show Plaid Peanut Butter how much we love them.”

The loud whistles and hollers that came from our table, drowning out the lack of the same anywhere else in the room, were reminiscent of Dustin’s rally earlier this week.

I liked being part of the group here to have fun.

A drumbeat played over the bar sound system, simple at first, but growing in complexity.

Brandon leaned toward me. “That’s Reese. She can’t sing and drum at the same time, so she pre-records.”

I barely knew more than the average person about music, and only because my parents were convinced that learning to play flute would be good for me, but I liked what I was hearing.

A heavy guitar riff joined the beat, and a blond man with an easy smile and hair buzzed close to his scalp stepped onto stage, his fingers flying wicked fast up and down the neck of his guitar. I recognized Danny from the photos Brandon kept in his office, but a still shot didn’t capture the energy he radiated.

The lights flickered and blinked out, but the music never stopped.

“Wait for it.” Phillip’s whisper blended with, and helped build, the anticipation.

A glow started from the lights around the stage, growing and expanding through the room, and illuminating a woman center stage with a wireless mic in hand.

Pin-straight violet hair hung around her shoulders and halfway down her back, framing an elf-like face decorated with triangle sunglasses. Her collar had spikes and her vinyl jacket hugged her tightly enough her breasts looked like they might pop out if she bent in a certain way. The way her hair flew and caught the light with each bob of her head said it was a wig.

But when she opened her mouth and the opening line to Amen by Halestorm came out, nothing mattered except her voice and the backup music and vocal.

I was captivated. The next hour passed in a wave of incredible music—some covers some original music—that grabbed me by the soul and held me tight.

When Reese announced they were going to take a break, I felt like I could breathe again, and at the same time was disappointed at the pause in the experience.

“Well?” Brandon watched me expectantly.

“Holy shit, wow,” was the best I could manage.

Brandon grinned. “Told you so.”

“How... That is...” There was no way I was at a loss for words. “How do more people not know about them? Where is everyone? Why aren’t you running their hype machine?” I asked Dustin.

Dustin winced, and Brandon’s smile faltered. “It’s complicated,” Brandon said. “Short version is, shitty contract.”

“Ouch.”

Brandon nodded. “Pretty much. What do you think of your first week here?”

I still wanted to screw the men I shared an office with, or watch them screw, or do anything with them that involved nakedness. Oh, and the art and tech were amazing. It took a lot of restraint to keep all of that from popping out of my mouth. “It’s everything I was promised, and more. Especially the nakedness.” Damn it.

“If you’ve heard any of Cole’s stories, you probably expected that,” Brandon said.

I shook my head. “Does Cole really strike you as a story person? Besides, I’d rather not ask for details about that part of his life.” I held up my hands. “Don’t misunderstand, I don’t have a problem with listening to stories about all of you fucking—” I winced. I could gloss over that. “—but talking about my brother’s boyfriend’s sex life is a step away from talking about my brother’s sex life, and I’m going to draw a line before we take that step.”

Brandon laughed. “That’s fair.”

“You may need to get used to it,” Phillip said. “We’ll respect your wishes, but this entire industry is incestuous.”

Dustin wrinkled his nose. “Really? You couldn’t use a better word?”

Brandon shrugged. “I mean, Cole is Judith’s ex, and Judith stole us from Step Daddy Scott and Zach.”

“Ugh, could you not call them that?” The new voice drew my attention to Danny and Reese, who had joined us. Danny settled into Brandon’s lap without hesitation.

That was sweet.

“They’re sexy,” Reese said. “How many tech execs can say that, and keep it up for two decades.”

“Too. Much. Alpha.” Danny draped an arm around Brandon’s neck.

Reese rolled her eyes. “I want a lap.” She looked at Dustin.

Envy pinged my thoughts. What would it be like to be so bold and just claim a spot on some smart, sexy guy’s lap? Specifically, Dustin’s lap.

I felt a twinge better when Dustin shook his head. “Mine’s not open.”

“Most boring party boy ever.” Reese’s grumble didn’t hold any malice.

And Dustin didn’t look bothered. “Seriously, convince a few other people of that, and I’ll sit on your lap.”

And there was the jealousy again.

“I feel like you’re missing the point,” Reese said.

“You’re the one without a lap. Sounds like you’re missing the point,” Phillip countered.

Brandon punched him lightly in the arm. “Dude, inappropriate.”

“Fuck you.” Phillip’s tone was light.

“Can I watch?” Danny asked with an enthusiasm I understood intensely, given the implication.

Reese cleared her throat. “Are you volunteering?” She stared at Phillip.

He raised an eyebrow and kept his mouth shut.

Reese huffed, looked between the men, and nudged me upright. Next thing I knew, I had a lap full of Reese. “You’re not my last choice, cross my heart,” she said. “But we’re strangers, and I don’t want to scare you off your first night here.”

“I’m fine with that.” I wasn’t sure with what. Her taking a seat. And that it wasn’t on Dustin or Phillip. Was I being possessive? Apparently.

“I’m Reese, by the way. That’s Danny, in case you haven’t been told. You probably prefer to be called something other than New Girl.”

“Adrienne.”

She managed to shake my hand without displacing herself. “Pleasure to meet me.” She grinned. “You loved the show.” It wasn’t a question, and she wasn’t wrong.

“You were amazing. Both of you, but, you. You’re like Shirley Manson, in person. And younger. And prettier.” I could shut up now, please. “You seriously wail.”

“Blasphemy.” Danny sounded horrified.

Reese stared at him.

He grinned. “I didn’t say I disagreed.” He extracted himself from Brandon’s lap, and the two shared a long kiss. “Gotta get back for the second act.”

Reese stood as well. “Great meeting you, Adrienne New Girl. Next song is for you.”

“What does that mean?” I asked as Reese and Danny walked back toward the stage.

“I assume it’s a pre-emptive dedication,” Brandon said. “Beyond that… I never try to guess with Reese.”

The music started again, and Danny plucked out the familiar notes of Bad Romance by Lady Gaga. While I loved the song, why did Reese think it was appropriate for me? It couldn’t be the relationship I just got out of. Was it for some future she assumed awaited me? Was I reading way too much into the entire thing?

Most likely.

We stayed for the rest of the show, and it was after eleven when things finally wound down. It would be a while before I did, though. The vibe in this place, at our table, had me buzzing with the kind of giddiness I hadn’t been able to lose myself in for a while.

I didn’t have an excuse to linger here, as much as I wanted one. “I should get going.” I reluctantly pushed myself away from the table, and forced myself to stand.

“We’ll walk you out. Make sure you get to your car safely,” Dustin said.

“You guys good?” Phillip asked Brandon.

“We’ve got it. See you all Monday.”

I asked him to tell Reese and Danny again that they were amazing, then headed outside with Dustin and Phillip.

“You really loved it,” Dustin said.

Was it that obvious? “It was so much fun.” Excitement hummed in my veins, and the cool kiss of the night air brushed my heated cheeks. “I know it’s only been four days, but this job is like the best thing ever.”

Dustin looked skeptical. “The best? I mean, we’re awesome, but that’s a high bar.”

“Better than sex?” Phillip asked.

A short laugh escaped before I could stop it. “In my life? Going to the grocery store is better than sex.” No. Stop. Don’t do this, Adrienne. “Why do you think I have such a hard time drawing it?” Fuck. Apparently I was doing this.

Dustin tsked. “That’s not right.”

“It’s really not. There should be a law or something that a woman my age should already know—” I snapped my jaw shut.

“Know what?” Phillip asked.

What gets me off besides a bullet vibrator and free porn. At least I still had some restraint. “What falls between unfulfilling vanilla fucking and paid actors doing it for the camera.” But not much.

“I can show you that.” Phillip’s confidence and lack of hesitation made my stomach drop into my shoes.

“Dude—”

Phillip held up a finger, silencing Dustin, and looked at me, as we stopped by my car. “You do the nude sketching already. And the other night wasn’t your first time in that classroom.” The intensity in his gaze seared into me.

“Yes. And no, it wasn’t my first time. I like learning about the lines in anatomy.”

“You’ve got a solid foundation,” Phillip said. “I’m not talking about anything inappropriate.” He glanced at Dustin. “Clothes on, and just a few pointers about what falls in that middle ground, for work.”

I couldn’t think of an argument. I didn’t want to. Should I be worried about work? If I asked, would the offer be withdrawn? He said clothes on. It wasn’t like we were actually going to screw. “I’m not going to get the right perspective if I’m in the middle of it.”

“I’ve got a camera set up at home. We’ll capture it, you’ll have reference shots for later,” Dustin said.

Anticipation and desire surged inside, lighting my senses up and pulsing between my legs. Did he just offer to film me in naughty positions? A teeny tiny prick of logic said that was a bad idea, but it was one of the hottest suggestions I’d ever heard. “Okay. I’m in.”

“Perfect.” Phillip’s immediate reply made it easier for me to not take back my agreement.

I should say never mind. Forget it. “When?”

“We’re free right now.” Phillip opened my car door for me. “Dustin will text you the address. Meet us there?”

I nodded, not sure what I was more terrified of hearing come out of my mouth—a take back or a gushing acceptance.