Black Lilith: Book One (Black Lilith #1) by Hazel Jacobs

in its trays in the center of the room, with small circular tables scattered around giving the illusion of intimacy. Tommy has staked out the corner table to himself, with a clear view of the door so that he can observe what’s going on around him. Mikayla had noticed that Tommy liked to put himself to the edge of the action when he could, quietly observing and writing in his notebook whenever some stray thought crossed his mind. It must be the artist in him. That instinct to separate himself from the world so that he can record it.
    Taking her plate, she loads herself up with eggs, bacon and toast. She thinks she might have to start watching what she eats later on in the tour—if they’re going to be staying in fancy hotels and having breakfast buffets every day then her figure will start to suffer quickly—but for now she’s going to enjoy it. She re-joins Tommy, who nods approvingly at her plate and stuffs his mouth with more eggs from his own.
    “So how was your night?” Tommy asks after he’s swallowed.
    “More restful than yours, probably,” she says. Tommy nods in wry agreement. “Dash convinced two of the other girls to go upstairs with him, Logan and I rode the elevator together, then we had a fight, and I went to bed.”
    “You had a fight?” Tommy asks. He doesn’t look surprised, but he does look concerned. “What about?”
    “I don’t even remember… something stupid,” she replies. She’s lying, but it’s a white lie. Whatever it was that had set Logan off—and the more she thinks about it, the more convinced she is that it was the money—it was his problem. She doesn’t want to throw around his problems with the band members, even if they are aware of them. “Seems to be our thing. Fighting.”
    Tommy shrugs and shakes his head at his notebook, jotting down a few more words. “Fighting isn’t that bad. As long as it’s something worth fighting about.”
    “I guess,” she replies.
    She eats her breakfast in silence, wondering idly whether the rest of the band will surface before noon. Her phone buzzes in her pocket, and she pulls it out, glancing at the screen and groaning.
    “Parole officer?” Tommy asks.
    “Worse,” Mikayla replies. “I should take this, sorry.” He waves his hand to indicate that it’s fine, and she runs her thumb over the screen to answer the call. “Hey, Mama,” she says.
    Beside her, Tommy snorts.
    “Oh, good… you’re awake.”
    “I’m always awake this early.”
    “Well, I don’t know how things are done ‘on tour.’ For all I know you’re coming out of an orgy.”
    Mikayla could hear the air quotes around on tour. Judging from the look on his face, Tommy can hear them as well, along with everything else her mother is saying.
    “I’m not coming out of an orgy,” she says.
    “You need to be careful… make sure they don’t slip you anything.”
    “They wouldn’t. They’re good people, Mama.”
    “They’re musicians , Mikayla.”
    Tommy is silently laughing into his eggs. A part of Mikayla wants to walk away and take this call in private, but she likes the sight of him laughing. And besides, she thinks, now when she inevitably starts complaining about her mother, it’ll help if there’s someone in the band who knows she’s not making anything up.
    “They’re good people,” Mikayla says firmly. “Last night I watched one of them send a groupie home with cab fare.”
    Tommy raises his eyes at that, but he’s laughing again when the sound of her mother’s shocked gasp comes through the speakers.
    “There are groupies ?”
    “They’re a very popular band, Mama,” Mikayla replies. She takes a big gulp of her coffee. She needs to fortify herself.
    “I’ve never heard of them.”
    “I know you haven’t heard of them, Mama.”
    “I’m very hip. I read Mindy Kaling’s book last week.”
    “Yeah? What did you think of it?”
    “Oh, you know… lots of ethnic jokes.”
    Tommy has to slap his hand over his mouth at this