***
The cat café concert went off without a hitch. Yeah, Lee gave me some shit about performing but I told him the ENT doctor had no objections. I didn’t tell him I hadn’t mentioned anything for her to object to. A little creative license. She hadn’t said anything about not singing.
The café was packed full that night, hitting the fire marshal’s limit, and other folks gathered in the street outside, looking in the windows. The owner had left four of the most mellow cats in the café to wander around and charm the guests, and even before I started singing, all four were spoken for. He gave a me nice intro, saying far more flattering things than I deserved, and a lot of cell phones were out recording the whole concert. My manager would’ve had a fit. Good thing I fired her.
I sang my best acoustic material, mostly from my second album, and a lot of the crowd sang along with old favorites. The donation jar on the counter ended up stuffed with bills.
Walking to Lee’s car at his side, high on the performance, I was stopped over and over by fans. I signed papers and phone cases and arms, and drew the line at boobs. The mood was warmand celebratory, but I heaved a relieved sigh when I was in the car and Lee pulled away from the curb.
“They really like you,” Lee murmured.
“Yeah, I guess. There were more people than I expected.”
“Did you ever have to have a bodyguard?”
I chuckled. “Hell, yeah. For about fifteen years from the end of theWings of Icetour until afterDay Trip. Not full time, like around my apartment, but if I was performing or on a tour, there was always at least one guy. Or gal, though I only had a female bodyguard once. She was great. If I’d hit it really big, she’s who I’d have hired.”
Lee raised an eyebrow at me. “Must’ve made it hard to get laid on tour.”
I tipped my hand back and forth. “Some. If I’d been deep in the closet then yeah, guys on the down-low are screwed by the surveillance. Or sadly, not screwed. For me, it was the NDAs and the hassle more than anything. I could pick up a guy in a club and bring him to the hotel but ‘read this whole form and sign on the line before we fuck’ is a major boner-killer.”
“You haven’t made me sign an NDA.”
“I trust you. If you decide to spill the tea about me, it’ll only be because I deserve it.” I watched the streetlights flicker across his face, highlighting a curve of his cheekbone, his full lower lip, the hint of red in his shadowed hair. “NDAs are for hookups, not the man I hope to keep in my life.”
“I have a feeling a lot of famous people have been burned by that assumption.” But Lee smiled.
At my building, I dug my keys out, balancing my guitar and mic stand. “Could you get the door, babe? Maybe the mail too?”
“Sure thing.” He held the outer lobby door for me, stopped by my mailbox to dig out a handful of envelopes, then held the inner door.
I smiled as I passed. “I’m glad you’re here.” To make my point clear, I licked my lips.
He laughed as the elevator arrived. “Aren’t you tired after that performance?”
“Not really. Performing revs me up. Takes me a while to come down afterward and that was a low-key event. No hot lights, no screaming, no dancing, no exhaustion.”
“Just cats.”
“Excellent cats. I could totally get used to them being part of my shows.” I waited till he opened the apartment, then led the way inside, putting my guitar case on its stand.
Lee shut the door, set the mail on the kitchen counter, then froze, picking up one piece. “Hey, this is a reminder for a biopsy appointment.”
“Well, yeah.” I’d tried to hydrate during the show, but I poured myself a big glass of water and sipped it. My throat felt… okay. A bit dry, a little thick and scratchy. Not worse than it had been. “I told you she might want to do one.”
“This is datedfive weeksfrom now.”
“First workable date.” I went and took the card from his hand, pinning it on the fridge with a magnet. “I guess they’re kind of booked out.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Lee paced three steps, whirled and came back. “For a tumor biopsy? In a vulnerable location? Why didn’t she do it right then while you were in the office. You said she did endoscopy. Why wait?”
“I think she was going to, but then she had some kind of emergency, so she told the nurse to reschedule it.”
“Fuck.” Lee turned again. “And you sang tonight. You’re going to do Rocktoberfest? What if the mass bleeds? You know it could seed the tumor lower in your throat, turn a simple surgery into a complicated one?”
I didn’t like the shaky feeling in my stomach and that made me angry. “The doctor didn’t say anything about that. I told the nurse I was performing on the first biopsy date and she pushed it later and saidnothingabout don’t sing or don’t wait. They should know better than you.”
“Wait.” Lee came and stared into my eyes. “What first date?”
