Flynn
FlynnSaturday night Nadia comes with me backstage at Rue’s, which has an even longer line of people waiting to get in than the past two weeks.
Nadia tries to occupy her usual spot in the wings, but I angle her toward the side stairs. “Tonight I want you in the audience. Is that cool? I have a surprise for you.”
“Oh.” She’s nervous, understandably.
“Oleg saved you a spot right up front, and he won’t let anyone touch you. Not even a bump–he promised. Look–Adrian and Kat are there, too.” I point to the place just in front of the apron of the stage. There are no longer tables and chairs on Saturday nights–we pack the house too full, but Oleg, Adrian, Nikolai and Maxim have made a wall with their bodies protecting their women in front of the stage. Sasha, Kat and Chelle are there, lau
