Drea

I’m not sure what in the hell Candace was thinking when she took this job—wait, scratch that. I know exactly what she was thinking when she accepted this audition at Hellcat Saloon.

Money.

The dollar signs flashed in my sister’s eyes when she learned about making phenomenal tips for shaking her ass while dancing and singing on top of a bar for a crowd of horny guys on a Friday night.

There’s barely enough room to stand in here as throngs of thirsty patrons shove into my back as they attempt to inch their way closer to the bar. I stare up at Candace as her hazel eyes sparkle and her blond hair gleams under the spotlight while she struts her stuff, showing off how skilled she is at her newly learned dance routine.

We spent the entire week going over the songs and moves so she would be ready for tonight. She had everything down perfectly. Even I had it all memorized after helping her.

I catch myself moving a bit and belting out the lyrics along with the girls performing, which is completely weird, considering I’m more of an indie music chick. Pop music isn’t my thing, but I love to sing as long as there’s a good beat.

The bass taps out the last few notes, and all the girls freeze, holding their ending poses as they allow the crowd to cheer in approval.

Lydia, the head bartender who offered my sister a trial job here, grabs a microphone and hops onto the bar. “Wow! You guys are pumped tonight! I take it you approve of the fresh meat I hired.” Lydia nods toward Candace, who steps forward, and a barrage of catcalls erupts as she does a little shimmy in her Daisy Dukes and extra-tight tank top. “How ’bout we put this girl to the test and see what she’s got? Give it up for Candace!”

I shove my index finger and thumb into my mouth and blow as hard as I can. The whistle catches the attention of the tall, tattooed man who has been in front of me all night. He turns to face me, and I nearly choke on my fingers.

He’s gorgeous.

I don’t ever throw a word like that around to describe a guy, but the word fits him to a T. The muscles in his forearms bulge beneath the intricate tattoos that cover every inch of his exposed skin. Hell, even his hands are tattooed, which fits with the slicked down dark he’s sporting. Everything about him screams bad boy and danger, which, in my book, equals nothing but trouble.

His blue eyes bore into me, and then one corner of his mouth lifts into a ridiculously sexy grin as he scans me from head to toe. “Are you always that good at blowing things you put in your mouth?”

Heat creeps up my neck and then spills into my cheeks, no doubt causing a fierce blush as I do my best to ignore such a crude come-on line.

The smile on his face widens. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

I roll my eyes. “Not interested.”

He raises his brow as if that were the first time someone’s ever turned him down and then laughs. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not. Now, if you don’t mind, could you please turn back around so I can watch my sister?”

“Sister, huh? Which one is she?”

Technically, she’s my stepsister, but I don’t feel the need to clarify that fact for him.

I nod up at Candace making her way over to the center of the bar. “That one.”

His eyes flit over to the bar and then return to me. He tilts his head as if to examine me. “You two look nothing alike.”

I glance down at the black tights and Chucks I’m wearing and then adjust the hood covering my head, moving it out of my line of sight.

Okay, he’s got me there. My sister and I are opposite in every way, even down to our hair color—her blond versus my brunette. My outfit doesn’t exactly scream, Hey, look at me, like Candace’s does, but I wasn’t a bit concerned about my appearance when I rushed from my job at the Taco Hut. I’m here to support my sister. Screw this guy for trying to make me feel bad for not being hot and sassy like most of the other women in this bar.

I could punch him, but based on the fact that he has nearly a foot on my five-foot-five frame, I doubt I’d do much damage. I’d probably break my hand.

I open my mouth to lay into this asshole, to tell him that he’s rude as hell, but I’m cut off by the sound of my sister’s voice booming through the speakers.

Putting Hottie McHotterson in his place will have to wait.

“What’s up, everyone? I’m Candace, the newest Hellcat, and I want you all to sing along with me if you know this one.”

The beat to Britney Spears’s “Toxic” blasts across the speakers, and I hold my breath as I fix my eyes on Candace. She struts around, and I watch like a proud parent as she brings the mic up to her lips and belts out the lyrics. I sing along as loud as I can to encourage her, and I smile when I glance around, seeing all eyes glued on her.

I must be annoying Hottie McHotterson because he keeps shifting around to stare at me, but I try to pretend his devilishly sexy ass doesn’t exist.

Candace tosses her hair like she’s making a music video and then dances her way over toward me. She has the men mesmerized, and I can’t say I blame them. She looks fierce in her shorts and black Hellcats tank.

She towers over me, and we sing in sync. Both of us are smiling because we know she’s nailing her audition right now, which is fantastic news. We desperately need the money. Living on our own is tougher than we thought, but for the past couple of years, we’ve managed to get by even though neither of us possesses any real employable skills. Any decent jobs require a degree or, at the very least, some technical training. Candace did manage to land a daytime receptionist job at a car dealership, though. I, on the other hand, spend my days making tacos in a fast-food joint.

Candace turned twenty-one last week, and she had the bright idea that we should live off our looks and singing abilities by getting a job here since we were both old enough to work in a bar. When it came to actually auditioning, though, I chickened out.

Being extremely introverted puts a damper on a lot of things. The fear of failure always stops me dead in my tracks and prevents me from pursuing anything that requires putting myself out there to be judged. It’s the main reason singing for a living is merely a pipe dream for me. At this rate, the best I can hope for is for Candace to be discovered so that she can allow me to be her personal songwriter.

Candace winks at me before she heads back to the center of the bar as the speakers pound out the last few beats of the song. She throws one arm up as she pulls the mic to her mouth with the other and sings the last note. The crowd goes nuts, and it vibrates my eardrums.

“Give it up for Candace, our newest Hellcat!” Lydia calls out. “Make sure you fellas tip her well.”

Candace giggles as she steps toward the edge of the bar. A couple of men extend their hands to help her down, and as soon as her feet land on the floor, money is being thrust at her from every direction as she heads my way.

“Drea!” Candace squeals as she rushes into my arms. “Oh, my God. That was so much fun!”

“You killed it out there,” I say into her ear as the music for the next act thumps all around us. “No way Lydia can deny how awesome your performance was.”

She pulls back, and her hazel eyes glow with excitement. “This is the answer to our prayers. No more ramen noodles and peanut butter sandwiches for us.”

We laugh and go into another bout of celebrating as we hug again. Wrapped in Candace’s arms, I notice, over her shoulder, that Mr. Tattoo is openly watching us. The moment our eyes connect, he smiles that cocky smile. He’s really starting to get under my skin.

I pull back from Candace and roll my eyes. “We have an audience.”

She bites her bottom lip as her eyes light up. “A cute one?”

My gaze flicks over to him, and as much as I would love to say absolutely not, Candace would call my bluff the moment she spotted the guy. No one in their right mind would deny the guy was drop-dead gorgeous.

“Silence from you means he’s smokin’. Which one is he?” She spins on her heel and nearly smacks into him. She stares up at him as he grasps her elbow to steady her. “No wonder you had my sister speechless. You’re sexy.”

I grimace and fight the urge to smack her. Candace has the uncanny ability to say the perfect thing to embarrass me when we’re around members of the opposite sex.

“I tend to have that effect on women.” He winks at me and then turns his attention back to Candace. “You did a phenomenal job up there. I’m interested in seeing you again.”

It doesn’t shock me that this man is into my sister. She’s a babe. She’s smart, beautiful, and talented—the total package—so I can’t fault the guy for trying, but little does he know, his rejections for the night are about to double.

“No offense, but you aren’t exactly my type. I’m not into the whole bad-boy thing.” Candace turns and gives me a knowing grin because she knows that I am. “That’s my sister’s department.”

“That’s good,” he says coolly as he reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out a business card. “I’m not asking for a date. This is a business opportunity for you. My name is Laz Rawlings, and I’m putting together a female band. You might be a good fit.”

Candace takes the card and studies it. “Second Coming Records? I’ve never heard of it or you.”

“It’s my label—a start-up. This new group I’m building will be the inaugural act for me.”

I step up beside Candace to get a better look at the card. It’s black with gold font—nothing special. “Anyone can get those printed. Doesn’t mean he’s legit.”

“I assure you, there’s no one more real than me in the record business. Google me if you’d like. I was making hits while you were still wearing braces in middle school.”

I shake my head. “I still don’t buy it. I won’t allow you to meet this guy alone somewhere, Candace. This could be a trick to get you somewhere secluded. It’s probably the line he uses to meet women.”

Laz smirks. “Trust me, baby, I don’t need to put in work to get pussy. That comes willingly to me.”

My top lip lifts in disgust, and I grab Candace by the wrist. “Come on.”

“Tell you what …” Laz’s words halt Candace in her tracks, forcing me to stand there and listen to more of his bullshit. “If you don’t trust me, you can come and audition, too. I heard you singing along with her. Honest truth, you didn’t sound half bad, but you don’t exactly have the look I’m going for.”

“What’s wrong with the way I look?” I snap back.

“Nothing is wrong with you per se. I’m going for a little more Britney and a lot less Marilyn Manson in the vibe department, but that’s nothing a makeover can’t fix if you’ve got the vocal talent I’m looking for.”

This is the second time this man has insulted me in the past twenty minutes. He’s really begging for me to punch him in the nuts.

“You’re a dick.”

He lifts one shoulder, giving off the expression like, Yeah, I know. “It’s my job to call it as I see it. I’m a producer, and I have an eye for what works in the business.”

“And you think my sister has what it takes?”

“I know she does. Everyone in this place just ate up that performance. The rest of the world will, too, once they get an opportunity to hear her. That’s where I come in. I can make her a star.”

Candace grins, and I know what he’s saying is music to her ears.

Becoming famous singers was our mutual dream when we were kids. It was the one thing that bonded us after our parents got together when we were twelve, and she would come to visit us every other weekend because her father had custody. I’d look forward to her visits because she understood my desire to sing.

But having your dream offered to you on a silver platter is something that only happens in fairy tales.

“I don’t think—”

“We’ll do it,” Candace answers, instantly cutting me off. “If you can do all the things you said, then count us in.”

Laz smiles. “Great. Text me your number, and I’ll send you the address for the auditions.” His blue eyes slide over to me. “I look forward to seeing what you’ve got.”

I open my mouth to smart off and tell him that he’ll never see what I’ve got, but he doesn’t give me time. He steps around me and then gets swallowed up by the crowd.

Something tells me we’ve just agreed to jump into bed with the sexy devil himself.