When her phone vibrated in her pocket as he started in on one of the band’s biggest hits, she ignored it before realizing she hadn’t heard from Charlotte today. They stayed in daily contact, even if it was only a short e-mail or text message to touch base. It was a habit Molly had begun after Charlotte’s mother first got sick and that was now so much a part of both their lives they rarely gave it a thought.
Pulling out the phone without taking her eyes off Fox, she glanced quickly at the message and burst out laughing. The music was so loud that there was no risk she’d interrupt the band, but she bit down on her lip to stop herself anyway. Tears in her eyes, she looked at David where he was making magic on the drums, wanting to hug him. Because the message wasn’t from Charlotte.
David sent me a memo. WTF?!
In the year and a half that Molly had known Thea—after Thea decided to do some research on her biological father out of curiosity and discovered she had a sister—Molly hadn’t seen anyone discombobulate her. “Good on you, David.”
It’d be interesting to be a fly on the wall at Thea and David’s next meeting, which was at least a week away as Thea was now officially on vacation. Not that her sister ever actually stopped working, but she was currently at the airport, waiting for her plane to the Indonesian island of Bali. The trip to see her parents had been organized well before the Sydney concert had come up, and with the local interviews now all done, Thea had decided not to cancel it.
“If you want me to continue putting out fires for you,” she’d told the band before she left, “do not do anything that interrupts my vacation.” The terse words had been directed particularly at David, whose black eye had been spectacular by that stage. “And next time someone tells you to put ice on a bruise, you listen!”
Molly had found the tone of that last pithy comment intriguing to say the least. Now, vowing to keep her nose out of whatever might end up going on between the drummer and her sister, she crossed her fingers for them both and typed a short reply: Was it a good memo?
Thea’s response was quick-smart. Bullet-pointed! With an introduction and a conclusion.
Are you memo’ing him back?
Of course I am. I have to see what he does next.
Stifling her laugh again, Molly said, Keep me updated. And have fun in Bali.
I will—after I write this memo.
Leaving Thea to her rebuttal memo, Molly messaged Charlotte. Hey, what’s happening? I’m backstage at a rock concert. Surreal. As surreal as the fact the incredible lead singer would be in her bed tonight.
I’m at work. Yes, on a Saturday night. The good news is, T-Rex hasn’t yelled at me once in the past eight hours. I think he might be depressed.
Caught by the primal power of Fox’s voice, it took Molly a few minutes to reply. Ask him to dinner. Or dessert.
T-Rexes only eat raw meat. But I ordered him takeout from a restaurant he likes. Now I’m going home. Enjoy the concert—and Fox. xoxo
Sliding the phone back into her pocket, Molly let the music sweep her away into a wild jungle of a world, passionate and furiously beautiful, just like the man who held the mike close as a kiss.
While Molly helped the crew pack up sensitive gear after the concert, Fox and the rest of the band came out to sign autographs and take photos with the die-hard fans who’d stuck around well after the show ended. Though she tried not to, she couldn’t help but notice the number of adoring women in the group—the one about to take a photo with Fox was a raven-haired knockout with a beaming smile.
“Oh, I can’t believe I get to meet you!” she squealed when Fox put his arm around her waist for the shot.
He wasn’t the only one being showered with female attention; all four men had their own groupies. Suddenly, Molly wasn’t so sure she’d done the right thing in encouraging David’s pursuit of Thea. “Damn it,” she said as she broke a nail while rolling up one of the cables that crawled across the back of the stage.
Forcing herself to pay attention, she tried to keep her eyes off the tableau out front, but it was no use. This time when she looked up, it was to see Fox exchanging fist bumps with a tattooed biker type who turned around to have Fox sign his back with a black marker. Next to him was a brunette who tucked a piece of paper into Fox’s jeans pocket, blatant invitation in her eyes and her assuredly collagen-enhanced lips.
The bitchy thought would’ve normally made Molly feel bad, but not tonight, with the woman licking her tongue around her pouty lips in a message a man would have to be comatose to miss.
Gritting her teeth against the urge to stride over there and slap her straight, Molly took the wound-up cable to where another one of the crew was putting them neatly into a gear truck. The charity volunteer crew was handling the big items, all of which had been hired, but much of the more delicate equipment was the band’s and needed to be handled with care.
“Here you go, Jen.”
“Thanks.” The model-tall and slender black woman took the cable off her hands. “You want to schlep some water out to the guys? It looks like these fans aren’t leaving.”
Joining the cluster of fans was the last thing Molly felt like doing, but since she couldn’t exactly say that, she stalled. “They always go the extra mile?”
“Depends on how tired they are, how far along in the tour it’s been.” Jen nodded at the crate of water that had just come out of the portable fridge now being loaded for transport. “Go on.”
Reluctantly grabbing four bottles, Molly made her way through the small crowd after tugging down her crew cap and was soon at David’s side. He was talking music with an eager young male and smiled his thanks at her for the water. When he leaned in close to whisper, “I sent her the memo,” she decided her first instincts about him had been right. A guy who was still thinking about her sister, even surrounded by copious amounts of near-naked female flesh, was seriously gone.