late eighties.”
“Hmmm....”
“How do you know them?” My curiosity was more intense than my manners now.
“I’ve lived with them since high school. Been with them ever since.”
I nodded and vaguely wondered what “with them” meant.
The bus came to a stop and Jimmy hollered, “Let’s rock and roll!” And everyone stood up, grabbed a bag or instrument, jumped out of the bus.
I stepped down, and Jack came up beside me. “I need your driver’s license for the security pass.”
“Okay.” I opened my purse and reached for my wallet. In slow motion, the Unknown Souls ticket I’d bought from Ticketmaster fluttered to the wet pavement.
Jack looked down at it, then up at me with the cutest thirteen-year-old grin. “Oh, you’ve already got a seat.”
I closed my eyes, wished whatever current I’d been riding would take me under.
He placed his hand on top of my head, heavy and warm. I opened my eyes and he stared at me. “Business, huh?”
I nodded. “Sort of. I need a band for this golf tournament benefit I’m planning . . . and well, sort of.”
He leaned down and picked up the ticket, handed it to me. “I’ll get you a better seat than this.”
“I’m sure you will.” I slapped both hands over my face, then peeked between my fingers at him.
He bent down and separated my fingers wide so we were eye to eye, as if we were under the roots of our old tree. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
I shrugged. “Embarrassed. But not nearly as much as right now.”
Isabelle hollered from a few yards away, “Let’s go, Jack.”
“Hold on,” he shouted back, but didn’t turn to her. “You still want to go?”
“Absolutely,” I said, feeling fourteen years old and ready to follow him anywhere.
He grinned, put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me toward the back doors of the coliseum.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The chaos inside the building was far greater than anything I’d ever seen, and it stole my breath, as does a stun ningly beautiful painting or sculpture that you don’t expect to be as exquisite as it is.
I sat in a metal chair on the far side of the stage and watched in amazement. Jack and Jimmy threw a football with the crew while Isabelle and Anna called to them to get their asses back to work. Harry tuned the guitars, and soon Jack walked toward me with an older man. I stood.
“Kara, this is our band manager and security guru, Luke Mulligan. There isn’t a job he hasn’t done—some he can’t even talk about.” He ducked a punch from Luke. “But he’ll make sure you get a good seat and aren’t left to the wolves around here.”
I looked up at the older man: screeching tires, metal grinding. I wanted to cry, but instead a laugh bubbled up. “I do believe I know Mr. Mulligan, and I think I owe you something, sir.”
He laughed, hooked his thumbs in his jeans pockets. “Well, well, life does have a funny way about it, don’t it?”
“What?” Jack looked back and forth between us.
“Why did you take off like that?” I asked Luke.
“I just believe that every once in a while everyone deserves a mulligan—you know, like in golf.”
I laughed. “Absolutely, like in golf.”
“And you looked like you could use a mulligan that day more than anyone I’d seen in a very long time. No?”
“Yes, but I don’t need one now, so let me know how much it cost.”
Jack pressed his hand on his chest. “You want to catch me up?”
Luke slapped him on the back. “Can’t stand to be on the outs, can you?”
“Very funny. Story, please.”
“Jack here”—Luke nodded toward him—“loves a good story.”
“This is not a good story,” I said, my hands in the air. “I hit your kind band manager’s truck with my car, and he drove off without letting me give him my contact information. It was a very, very bad day and not a good story in any way whatsoever.” I offered Luke a small curtsy. “Thank you. It was a much-needed mulligan—but I actually got really sick with the flu after that. I’m so sorry, but I can pay you now. Really.” I reached for my purse.
“No.” He held up his hand.
“What were you doing in Palmetto Pointe?” I searched the bottom of my purse for my checkbook.
“The band had a show nearby—at the Historic Festival in Beaufort.” Luke placed his hand on my arm. “Stop looking for money. I won’t let you pay.”
“Oh?” I glanced at Jack, who turned away. “You were in