incredible.”
“Wow. I’d be willing to get out and do this over to hear that again.”
“You don’t have to go to all that trouble to hear me talk about how beautiful you are.”
“Look, Darby. You don’t have to say stuff like that to get me to help you with your music. I already said yes. I’m sold.”
“I’m not kissin’ ass, Cass.” She giggled. “I didn’t mean for that to rhyme. But I can’t be the first guy who’s told you this. Even sandwich dude said you’re fine.”
“Sandwich dude?”
“The guy who was in your kitchen takin’ balogna very seriously.”
“Oh.” She laughed like she knew who he was talking about.
“You know the way? I don’t know the way.”
“Yeah. I know the way. Take a right at the corner. So. Not a starving artist, huh?”
“You mean the car? It’s rented.”
“Compared to most of the people in the neighborhood that still makes you king.”
“What if I told you I’ll be eating noodles for the rest of the month?”
She grinned. “I’d say it’s worth it.” After the briefest pause, she added. “And you can come get a balogna sandwich anytime.”
“That’s a very generous offer.”
The concert was everything Doo hoped it might be. He took two hits off a joint that Cass offered, but declined more. He didn’t want to miss a thing.
It felt like he’d gone to heaven, watching Quicksilver perform with nothing between him and them to distract or obstruct his view. They played their hearts out and left their souls bared. Doo decided the demon who gave him those tickets was an angel in disguise. He consciously tried to freeze every minute in memory, all the while knowing that most of it would disappear with the next sleep cycle.
Cass spent most of the night watching Doo watch the band. In some ways she thought it was a more compelling show. It’d been clear from the first note he’d played in the backyard of the Quinn’s Gate Record Company house that Doo Darby had been singled out; touched by the gods of music. And she was thinking it was going to be a privilege to shepherd him toward an opportunity to shine.
The fact that he seemed to be interested in her beyond what she could provide in the way of connections wasn’t bad either.
The dance of budding interest was observed by Lyric and Shivaun standing in the wings behind speaker towers, amid equipment crates and cables on cables on cables. Even from that distance it was clear to see there was chemistry between Doo and his date.
“So. He likes redheads,” Lyric said as if he was making an observation that explained a lot.
“What’s wrong with that?” she replied.
Without looking her way, he replied as smoothly as a player. “Just saying he has impeccable taste in females.”
Even someone recently introduced to modern life could recognize that was a cheesy thing to say. She liked it anyway. Long live cheese.
Turning back to spying on Doo and his date, Shivaun’s mood was growing affectionate. She slipped her hand into Lyric’s and squeezed a little. He looked down at their joined hands with an expression she couldn’t identify.
Her mouth was open with a question about making him feel uncomfortable, when he looked up and said, “Let’s get out of here. I have an idea.”
Her answer was a smile and a nod. She was enjoying the music more than she could have imagined and was reluctant to leave early, but she’d learned that Lyric’s ‘ideas’ were always worth pursuing. The demon knew how to show a girl a good time.
Just before they vanished, Lyric looked past the performers to the other side stage. A male was staring at them, not the band. And something about it didn’t feel right. He was trying to place where he’d seen that face when the bass player stepped in the way and blocked his vision. He leaned around, but whoever had been there was gone.
“Are we goin’? Or no”?” Shy asked.
He smiled. “Don’t be so impatient. We’ve got all the time in the world.”
“Where are we?” Shivaun looked around.
They were standing on the driveway of a well-kept ocean front estate just outside Monterrey. Accent lighting transformed the landscaping into the luxurious feel of a five-star resort at night.
“This house belongs to an actor who’s never home. But he has a great car collection.”
“And why do we care about that?”
Ignoring the question, Lyric lifted his hand and one of the garage doors rolled up. At the time, the motorized garage door opener was a status