Read Online Vintage Volume Two by Lisa Suzanne - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lisa Suzanne
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bench seating across one side of the stretched interior, capped at each end with a luxurious looking leather seat. The other side had a long bar that was stocked with beer, wine, champagne, and plenty of spirits.
Parker guided me all the way to the far end, closest to the driver, and the others trailed in behind us. A glass partition separated us from the driver, and I couldn’t help but be thankful that this was my life. I tended to take a lot of my blessings for granted, but for some reason, limousine rides always reminded me what money could do for people.
And then I thought about the fact that Randy was after us, that my dad was in some sort of trouble with him, that my dad married Jadyn and I still didn’t trust her…and I was reminded once again of the downsides to the many blessings we had.
I wished that Parker and I had taken a different car. I liked my time alone with him, and I didn’t like watching Vinnie play his disgusting games despite the vast area of the limo. I snuggled into Parker, who wrapped his arm firmly around my shoulders. I tried to psych myself up for the night ahead. I tried to block out Vinnie and thoughts of Randy and all of the issues that had surrounded us on this tour. I tried to focus on the feel of Parker next to me. I tried to be happy that I didn’t have George or Bruno on my ass for five minutes. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. A sense of foreboding pierced my abdomen.
Parker unwrapped his arm from around me and I sat up, my eyes wide at the fear I felt permeating through me. He left me for just a moment to fix us both a drink. He was only about a foot away from me. He handed me my second vodka drink of the night. This one was as strong as the first, and it lowered my inhibitions just enough to help alleviate some of my anxiety.
We arrived at the bar after about a twenty minute drive. Bourbon Street was only about a four minute drive from the venue, but traffic was heavy. The concert had been over for at least an hour, but fans were insane and waited around long after the show to catch a simple glance of one of the band members. If only they knew that we were headed to a bar just down the street.
Parker’s hand firmly clutched mine as we exited the limo. He only let go to put his arm around my shoulder, and I wasn’t sure if it was a gesture of intimacy or a gesture of protection. It didn’t really matter either way. I liked being cocooned in Parker’s arms.
We headed up some stairs and entered Bourbon Balcony, a bar with an obvious name and a balcony overlooking Bourbon Street. Music pumped through the place, led by a deejay set up on a stage in one corner. The bar was decorated in golds, purples, and greens—Mardi Gras colors—but it was dim inside and more than a little run-down. Rebecca had handled the details for the final after party before she’d taken her leave of absence, and I briefly wondered what had made her choose this particular bar. It was a little shoddy compared to the places my dad usually booked.
I watched as my dad made a beeline for the stage, George following close behind him. He huddled together with the deejay and some other men standing around.
“You want anything?” Parker yelled in my ear over the music.
I shrugged, and he grinned. “Typical.” He grabbed my hand and led me to the bar, where he ordered us each another round.
A mixture of exhaustion and anxiety filtered through me, and I knew taking the drink wouldn’t be a good idea. I wanted to have a good time, but knowing this was our last night and not knowing what awaited me in California the next day was eating away at me.
So I sipped slowly. And, of course, I was teased for it.
“You want me to get you a nipple for that bottle?” Parker asked with a grin as I looked anxiously around the bar, not knowing what exactly I was looking for but sure that there was something.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asked when
Parker guided me all the way to the far end, closest to the driver, and the others trailed in behind us. A glass partition separated us from the driver, and I couldn’t help but be thankful that this was my life. I tended to take a lot of my blessings for granted, but for some reason, limousine rides always reminded me what money could do for people.
And then I thought about the fact that Randy was after us, that my dad was in some sort of trouble with him, that my dad married Jadyn and I still didn’t trust her…and I was reminded once again of the downsides to the many blessings we had.
I wished that Parker and I had taken a different car. I liked my time alone with him, and I didn’t like watching Vinnie play his disgusting games despite the vast area of the limo. I snuggled into Parker, who wrapped his arm firmly around my shoulders. I tried to psych myself up for the night ahead. I tried to block out Vinnie and thoughts of Randy and all of the issues that had surrounded us on this tour. I tried to focus on the feel of Parker next to me. I tried to be happy that I didn’t have George or Bruno on my ass for five minutes. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. A sense of foreboding pierced my abdomen.
Parker unwrapped his arm from around me and I sat up, my eyes wide at the fear I felt permeating through me. He left me for just a moment to fix us both a drink. He was only about a foot away from me. He handed me my second vodka drink of the night. This one was as strong as the first, and it lowered my inhibitions just enough to help alleviate some of my anxiety.
We arrived at the bar after about a twenty minute drive. Bourbon Street was only about a four minute drive from the venue, but traffic was heavy. The concert had been over for at least an hour, but fans were insane and waited around long after the show to catch a simple glance of one of the band members. If only they knew that we were headed to a bar just down the street.
Parker’s hand firmly clutched mine as we exited the limo. He only let go to put his arm around my shoulder, and I wasn’t sure if it was a gesture of intimacy or a gesture of protection. It didn’t really matter either way. I liked being cocooned in Parker’s arms.
We headed up some stairs and entered Bourbon Balcony, a bar with an obvious name and a balcony overlooking Bourbon Street. Music pumped through the place, led by a deejay set up on a stage in one corner. The bar was decorated in golds, purples, and greens—Mardi Gras colors—but it was dim inside and more than a little run-down. Rebecca had handled the details for the final after party before she’d taken her leave of absence, and I briefly wondered what had made her choose this particular bar. It was a little shoddy compared to the places my dad usually booked.
I watched as my dad made a beeline for the stage, George following close behind him. He huddled together with the deejay and some other men standing around.
“You want anything?” Parker yelled in my ear over the music.
I shrugged, and he grinned. “Typical.” He grabbed my hand and led me to the bar, where he ordered us each another round.
A mixture of exhaustion and anxiety filtered through me, and I knew taking the drink wouldn’t be a good idea. I wanted to have a good time, but knowing this was our last night and not knowing what awaited me in California the next day was eating away at me.
So I sipped slowly. And, of course, I was teased for it.
“You want me to get you a nipple for that bottle?” Parker asked with a grin as I looked anxiously around the bar, not knowing what exactly I was looking for but sure that there was something.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asked when
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