Sinful Ella (Seven Ways to Sin 6)

Since then, none of us had been hard-pressed to find female company of any kind. Most nights, we each found ourselves with two or three girls for every one of us, with no complaint from any of us. “You’re only young once,” Howie would say, disappearing into a private room with a girl on each arm. “Might as well enjoy it.”

The rest of us tended to agree with this sentiment. When Grant, Darren, and I had formed the Prince Charmings, we’d never imagined a time when we’d be fielding nightly offers of group sex from attractive women, but here we were. We were determined to take full advantage while it lasted.

At least, most of us were. Grant seemed determined not to enjoy anything ever again.

Speaking of—“Where the hell is Grant?” Darren asked. “We have to get started.”

I glanced at my watch. Darren was right, sound check should have started five minutes ago.

“I think I saw him out back with Valentina,” Jason offered. “I can go see if I can find him.”

I shook my head. “I’ll do it,” I said. “You guys stay here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

There was an alley out back where Valentina liked to smoke before the club opened. If Grant was with Valentina, that was where they would be.

The sound of lowered, urgent voices met me as soon as I stepped out the door and I paused, not wanting to interrupt.

“It’s getting urgent,” Valentina was saying. “We’re going to have to do it soon.”

“Are you sure it’s going to work?” a voice I recognized as belonging to Cole, one of Valentina’s right-hand men, asked.

“Of course it will, we’ll be more careful this time,” Valentina responded. “And the money will—” Suddenly, she caught sight of me and fell silent. I shifted on my feet, embarrassed to have been caught eavesdropping.

“I was looking for Grant,” I explained. “Jason said he thought he was out here with you.”

Valentina smiled brightly. “Darling! He was here, but he ran off. You might find him in the green room?”

“Yeah, I’ll, uh . . . try there,” I said, face flaming as I beat a hasty retreat. The heavy door slammed behind me with a crash, leaving me wondering just what the hell I had walked into.

“Saul?” Grant appeared by my side. “What are you doing back here? Come on, we’re late.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re late. I was back here looking for you.”

Grant flashed a brief smile, and for a just second, I saw a glimpse of my old friend once again. “Well, here I am,” Grant said. “Shall we go?”

Mutely, I nodded, following him back to the stage.

4

Ella

Martine had found us a room at the cheapest motel in the area while she worked on finding us a gig. I sat gingerly on one of the queen-sized beds, trying to recall everything I’d ever heard about how to check for signs of bedbugs, half listening as Susanna and Liz bickered over having to share a bed.

“I don’t understand why Martine gets her own room, while the three of us have to share,” Susanna grumbled.

“Right? It’s not fair,” Liz added. The two of them looked to me for my input.

“Mmhm,” I said, distracted. This was not at all how I’d pictured this tour going, and I was trying my hardest to look on the bright side. Thus far, the bright side was that the motel room was not entirely made of spiders. I shuddered.

I was saved from further pestering from the Gaitly sisters when Martine swanned into the room. “Wonderful news, girls!” she said. “I’ve landed you a gig for tomorrow night!”

“Thank God,” Susanna said with feeling. “The sooner we can get out of this shithole, the better.” Privately, I agreed with her, a sensation I was not at all used to and didn’t particularly care for.

“What’s the gig?” I asked.

“You’ll be opening for a local band,” Martine said. “I can’t remember the name, but it doesn’t matter. The point is, you’ll make enough to pay for the repairs to the van, and then we can get out of here.”

Liz gave a muffled cheer, quickly stifled by a withering look from her sister.

“You don’t know anything about the band? The venue?” Susanna demanded.

“Ah, well,” Martine cleared her throat, looking suddenly uncomfortable. “There is one thing. The venue has a dress code.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” I said, doing my best to put on a cheerful tone. One gig, and we could get back to our tour. I could still have my adventure. “What is it? Semiformal? Formal?”

“Not quite.” Martine couldn’t quite meet my eyes. “Latex.”

Susanna and Liz shrieked, then doubled over laughing. I had the distinct and uncomfortable feeling that I was being left out of a joke.

“What?” I asked. “What does that mean?” Instead of answering, Susanna and Liz just laughed harder. Martine gave me what I took to be meant as a comforting smile.