“Headed home?” Seth asks.
“Not yet. Got some stops on the way. Sal ain’t home till late.”
Seth’s eyes flicker. “She’s workin’ a lot.”
Luke snaps the clasps on the guitar case. “Too much.”
Jace drops onto a stool. “You ever think about askin’ her to quit?”
Seth busts out a laugh. “Have you met Sal?”
“Yeah, I like my nuts where they are, thanks,” Luke says, half-kidding, half-knowing he would never ask that of Sal. It’s her job, it’s important to her, and she’s got his support. Anytime. All the time.
The soft suck of the door has Luke turning.
Their manager, Bobby Mazon, enters the room wearing a clumsy step and a neon jacket. While Mort was all finesse and money, Bobby’s about as smooth as sandpaper.
Bobby whistles and shuts the door behind him. “Day one’s a wrap, gentlemen. How do we feel?”
Luke lets out a low whoop. “Feelin’ damn good, Bobby.”
“Hey, Bobby, man,” Jace says, a smile turning his lips. “You got your tie on upside down.”
Bobby blinks, then swivels his hand over to his polka-dotted bowtie.
Seth shoots Luke a what-the-hell-are-we-doing-with-this-guy look, but Luke can only chuckle. Sure, their new manager is a walking space case, but he’s a good guy. Where Mort would steamroll the Brothers Kincaid into a decision, Bobby’s content to let them lead, but also offers sound advice when needed.
Sometimes Luke still can’t believe everything that went down with Mort. Setting Alabama up to kiss him so he’d stay on as a client. Arranging that damn Nashville Star photographer to take the photo that ultimately caused Sal’s car accident and miscarriage. Though Mort got what was coming from him—fired by his clients, his reputation ruined—he still got the hell out of Nashville as fast as he could run.
Luke’s fists curl at the thought. Some small part of him wishes Mort were still around, if only so he could beat the shit out of the guy one last time.
Bobby chatters on. “A word, Luke?”
“What’s up?”
“So I know you fellas got the Rolling Stone interview Tuesday, but I got somethin’ just for you. PR op. Country Living wants you and Sal for an interview.” Lifting a hand, Bobby squints at the note scribbled onto his palm. “A cover about great country love stories.”
A shit-eating grin appears on Seth’s face. He’s ready to bust his brother’s balls as only he can do. “Pucker up, Luke.”
But Luke bristles. A frown creases his brow.
He’s had more than his share of the press. Especially after Sal was found. The media was all over her, harassing her, trying for a story, mainly the Nashville Star, the local tabloid. Even now, a year after everything, Sal’s still somewhat of a media darling. Beautiful. Tragic. Strong. Everyone wants a piece of her, wants to know more, which only has Luke fighting to keep their life private as much as he can.
Though he’ll always do an interview for himself, or the band, Sal’s out of the spotlight unless it’s her call.
“I don’t know. I don’t like puttin’ Sal out there, Bobby.” He runs a thoughtful hand through his hair, then shakes his head. “Give it to someone else.”
Where Mort would argue, Bobby only nods.
Seth laughs when Luke glances his way. He holds up his hands. “Hey, don’t look at me.”
Luke eyes Jace. “What about you?”
Jace laughs. “Give Emmy Lou a cover? Hell, she’ll be thrilled.” His rusty brows rise. “You sure, though?”
He catches the look Seth’s giving him, then gives a terse nod. “Yeah. You take it,” he says, grabbing up his guitar case. He floats a wave. “See y’all tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” Jace echoes, lifting a hand.