I sighed, took a deep breath, and prepared to get my attitude on. These guys would need strict discipline, and I had to let them know that I wouldn't take any crap from them.
“Talon, get your gear loaded. We need to get going soon. We have a sixteen-hour drive ahead of us to get to Seattle by the morning, and your messing around is gonna make everyone late. You can screw around as much as you want on the bus while we're driving, but right now, you're on my time, and I won't let you mess up this schedule. Now come on, get to it!”
Talon stopped what he was doing and gave me a look that I would definitely classify as defiant. He obviously didn't like being told what to do – especially by a woman.
“Come on, guys, let’s load up,” Owen finally said, backing me up. Perhaps he hadn’t remembered just how long of a drive we had until I mentioned it. There was a general grumble between the others, but they did as Owen said, obviously used to taking orders from him. I could totally understand now why he needed an assistant. Dealing with all of them, as well as all the ins and outs of planning out a tour, was downright exhausting.
“All right, so our plan of attack is to sleep on the bus tonight, work with the lighting and sound crew around lunch, then rehearsal from two to three, and then we'll be on stage at nine, as soon as the opening act has played. We have a seriously tight schedule to keep, so I need your gear loaded under the bus and your bags and anything you’ll need tonight loaded inside,” I told them once they were somewhat listening. There were more groans of protest at the schedule.
“Hey, you guys were just chest bumping and high-fiving about going on tour moments ago; did you forget touring is work, too? You've got thousands of expectant fans all pumped for this show
. Now, do you guys want to let them down by being late or putting on a sloppy performance? No, I'm sure you don't. So, let's get a move on.”
Owen snickered at my gentle reminder, and I smiled to myself. The others quit complaining and finally started loading their stuff on board. I checked my watch and saw that we had another thirty minutes before we were scheduled to leave.
I was still waiting for Jackson to bring a bag I’d forgotten in my rush. I wouldn’t have asked him if it hadn’t been necessary, but that bag contained all my makeup and toiletries. I wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of having my brother come out and be face-to-face with the band he loathed me going on tour with, but Grace was working, so he was my only option if I wanted my makeup — which I did.
“Dude! Yes! Champagne!” Talon bounded off the bus holding a green bottle of champagne. He was followed by Jay, who was holding an identical bottle. Both immediately popped off the corks and began spraying them around. I sighed and looked at Owen.
“Maybe I should have told the caterer no champagne,” I said.
“Nah, let ‘em have some fun,” he insisted. “I’ll make sure we get off on time. And don't worry, these guys can handle their liquor. They'll be fine to rehearse and play, and I'll keep a tab on things and make sure they don't get too out of control.”
I shook my head, watching the guys jump around with the champagne bottles. As if right on cue, my brother pulled up. His face said everything when he got out of the car and saw the guys being idiots. He was definitely still not cool with me going. He eyed the others disapprovingly and then finally shot Owen a look of disdain as he walked over. Talon and the others noticed him, stopped their champagne fight, and came over to meet him.
“Hey! You must be Nalia’s big bro! I’m Talon, this is Nate, Jay, Jeremiah,” Talon introduced the guys, and they all went to shake hands with Jackson. He hesitated, but shook their hands, wiping the champagne on his jeans.
“Jackson Dean. Yes, I’m Nalia’s older brother,” he said, puffing his chest out a little.
Owen stepped forward past me and put his hand out. “Owen Young. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jackson.”
Jackson flashed a tight-lipped smile as he shook Owen’s hand. “Wish I could say the same.”
I cringed at his words, but Owen was unfazed by it and kept a pleasant demeanor. “I get it, man, I understand. You're not really crazy about your little sister touring with a rock band full of guys. There are plenty of rumors about us and our history, but I want to assure you, that stuff is just tabloid gossip. Seriously, don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on Nalia on the road.”
“That’s exactly what I am worried about,” Jackson’s gaze went to me then hardened back on Owen. “I’ll fuck up everyone here if anything happens to her, and that’s a promise.”
“Jackson!” I narrowed my eyes at him and grabbed his arm tugging him back toward his car.
“What? I’m just being honest,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear. “I want them to know not to fuck with you.” He stopped, his jaw set tight as he glanced back toward the guys who were all standing there looking a little dumbfounded.
“Jackson, this is my job. I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself while we’re on tour.”
“You’re my little sister, and I’m allowed to be protective of you. Especially around guys like these,” he hissed, handing my bag over.
“Seriously. I’ll be fine. I promise,” I told him, giving him a big hug and not missing the daggers he was shooting right at Owen. “I’ll call you from the road. Honestly, Jackson, there really is no need to worry about me or get bent out of shape. I'm a grown woman.
“And remember, I worked in that god-awful dive bar with all those drunken creeps, who were way worse than any of these guys could be. Believe me, I know how to handle myself. I don't need you looking out for me, as much as I appreciate your concern.”
“I'm just saying be careful. And if anything happens, you know you can call me.” He gave me a serious look. “Anything at all. I mean it. I'm not intimidated by these guys.”
“I know. I know. I love you, Jack.”
“Love you, too, sis.” He kissed my forehead then got into his car, all the while still glaring at Owen until he pulled away. Once his car disappeared down the street, I turned around, my face flushed with embarrassment, and I trudged back toward Owen.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Owen