Ties That Bind

Chapter 15. Simple Pull

When they were let in; a woman about Lindsey's height with short blonde hair opened the front door and she was holding a cigarette between her fingers as well as a short glass that contained brandy on ice.

"Hi, darling," her deep British vocals easily filled the air when she stepped forward to hug her bandmate.

"Hey, Chris---how're you doing?" he pecked cheeks with her---getting a good whiff of her breath and overall skin when he did greet her.

"Come in," she gestured. "Who's this?" she smiled at the tiny blonde at his side.

"This is Stevie," he brought her forward a smidge. "She's my landlord," he smirked.

"You're so rotten, Lindsey---" the British woman waved him off as she pulled her in close. "Only you would make friends with your landlord."

Gently letting his hand meet her wrist, "Wanna beer or something?" he offered Stevie as he backed away from both women.

"Uh... tequila, scotch---anything really," the shorter and younger blonde shrugged.

"I'll surprise you," he assured before turning totally around.

"So, love---good to meet you. I'm Christine," she took a sip of her drink.

"It's good to meet you, I've heard a lot about you---" she actually paused to think that she stated the same lie as he did when he met her parents. "You have a gorgeous home," she had to mention, just to shift topics.

"Awe, thank you---" she assured, turning toward her. "Bonkers that Lindsey might have actually found something good for him... Has he told you about Carol Ann?"

"His ex-girlfriend?" she had to guess.

"Oh, yeah... A total addict and hussy," the taller blonde rolled her eyes.

Lindsey soon came back with her drink and he handed it to her---kind of realizing she was going to bombard Stevie. "Let me show you around," he mentioned. "Chris, why don't you sit down with Curry?" he added since he could tell she was drunk and her boyfriend was some ways apart, on the couch.

She nodded, "It was good to meet you, love---" and she stumbled back over to the couch.

Lindsey then wrapped his arm back around Stevie's waist, clutching her kind of close and he took a gulp from his beer bottle. He kind of scanned the room from the foyer and he looked for familiar faces and though there were, he was trying to pick and choose who to introduce since there were a few groupies that were there. "So, over there---that's Mick, our drummer who does a lot of blow and he's a womanizer---I'd stay away from him if I were you," he assured---speaking low in her ear. "Two kids and he's divorced twice."

"Noted," she sipped her scotch as she listened to him whisper.

"John, our bassist," he pointed. "Alcoholic, but in AA---doing better, he mostly smokes cigarettes now since it mellows him out---booze makes him violent. Christine, you met her; she dabbles in a little bit of everything, but her biggest habits are cigarettes and Curry Grant---she loves him to death and he loves her."

"Nice..." she nodded.

"Over there, that's Richard Dashut and he takes a lot of pictures of us, so does Mick, but he literally travels with us to take pictures, so be prepared. He's creating an album or something for the future. I think it's cool, but he's got some weird shots," he added.

"Well, I like photos---I'd like one of you if that's not weird?" she turned her head.

"I'm sure I can dig one up for you. You can go through high school photos, Fritz photos, Mac photos, when I'm high photos," he smirked.