not be able to make their rent or car payments if the band can’t tour.”
That’s surprisingly responsible of him, to worry about not just his band mates but everyone down to the people serving up their lunch. Anger and hurt still swirl in my gut, but I have to admit I respect the fierce protectiveness in his voice.
Damn him, why must he make me feel sympathy? I know what that kind of responsibility feels like. When my father died, I had to run everything by myself. My mother was a basket case. Daisy didn’t come home from college like we thought she would, so I had to drop out of college and take care of everything. I woke up every day knowing that the future of our town rested on my shoulders.
Still, he’s not the only one with responsibilities. Our county, and my family business, really need this arena to be a success, and I will do what has to be done to make sure that happens.
“I have no intention of putting a hundred people out of work.”
Sebastian scowls at me. “You still look like you’re going to pull something shady. If we’re going to do this, I want your solemn promise that you will stay in character and you won’t do anything to embarrass the band.”
“I swear to you on a stack of Bibles that I will stay in character and I won’t embarrass the band,” I assure him. And I mean it. But that doesn’t mean he’s going to like what happens next.
Chapter Seven
Callie
Monica looks me up and down appraisingly. “A challenge. I like it. Okay, I’m going to need about half an hour. What size shoes do you wear?”
“Seven.”
“I wear a size eight, but we’ll make it work. Since you want to hide your identity completely, I’m going to make you look at least four inches taller. What we’ll do is put you in very high-heeled boots, and you’ll wear slacks that cover them so people can’t see how much height we’re adding. You’re going to be wearing a hat, wig and sunglasses, and I can work miracles with makeup.”
“Will we have enough time?” I worry. “When do you guys need to check in?”
“We’ve got plenty of time—sound check isn’t until three,” Sebastian says.
An hour later, I’ve gone from a 5’4” tall, pale brunette with big boobs and freckles to a 5’8” woman of mystery with olive skin and black tresses flowing down the middle of my back. A big floppy hat and glamorous movie-star glasses help obscure my face. We’ve squashed my boobs down with a sports bra. I could walk by my own mother and she wouldn’t recognize me.
“Let’s do this,” Sebastian says. He gives me a sharp look. “You promised.”
I wave my hand dismissively. “Yes, and I keep my promises. I’m trustworthy. That’s such an important quality in a person, don’t you think?”
He scowls. “I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.”
“Talk about what?” I lower my glasses so I can give him a wide-eyed, innocent look, then slide them back up again.
He takes a deep breath and shakes his head in annoyance. Then he straightens up, squaring his shoulders, pastes on a big smile and throws the door open.
He leads the way down the steps and I follow, my heart thumping. A collective roar of adulation and longing rises from the waiting crowd. Security guards have put up barricades just like they did at Blue Blazes Records. Hundreds of fans press up against the barricades, howling Sebastian’s name, hungry for a piece of him. Good lord, the intensity in their voices is terrifying. What would happen if they breached the barricades?
Alarm jangles my nerves, but then Sebastian folds his big hand around mine and my fear fades away. I close my eyes, and for a brief moment I’m eighteen again and I’m standing at the fairgrounds with him, behind the bleachers. There’s nobody in the world but him and me.
Then I open my eyes and I’m back in the present. Heat and sound crash over me like a wave, leaving me slightly stunned.
“It’s okay,” he says in a low voice, with a reassuring smile. “They’re not that scary. Just picture them all naked.”
I look at them doubtfully. “Is that what you do?”
“God, no. Picture Roger Dorpelman naked?” He flashes me a wicked grin and gestures at a gray-haired, bearded man who’s frantically snapping pictures of us. “I’d never be able to eat again.”
I choke on a snicker behind my hand. And now