“Maybe.” The bus slows with traffic to almost a complete stop and we both glance out the window. Almost to Milwaukee. “I better go find myself a woman who can heal the damage you caused my heart.”
“Bruised ego?”
“Po-tay-to. Po-tah-to.”
It’s good we’re having this conversation. Though lighthearted, it’s a reminder for my own heart not to get wrapped up in how good it feels to have his undivided attention. It’s only temporary and not meant for more. He hooks up with a different woman at every stop. “I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding a woman to warm your bed for a few hours.”
“Bed? Don’t be ridiculous.” His brows shoot up with offense before he flashes another wicked smile. “A couch or wall will suffice.”
“You are bad.” I shake my head, but it’s the boyish grin plastered on his lips that makes it difficult not to smile back.
“You’ve got that right.” He shoves to his feet once the brakes on the bus squeal with their final stop. “Better go before I turn Big Bad Wolf on you Red. Good work today.”
I hate that nickname.
Red.
It’s the most unoriginal and overused one from my childhood. Make fun of the girl with the red hair because she sticks out like a sore thumb. It’s not as if we get to choose our physical attributes. The color of my hair and the freckles that scatter across my pale skin are out of my control. I’ve tried to find beauty in them, but it’s hard when hateful words from my younger years still stick in my mind. I’m not ugly, I know this now, but I wasn’t born to be a knockout beauty, either. I don’t stand out with the kind of star power my half-sister was seemingly born with. I don’t walk and speak with the same confidence the fans have backstage at these meet and greets. I’m still figuring myself out, but there are some things, like red hair and thousands of freckles, that I can’t change. I might as well accept them.
“Opal.” Trent interrupts my thoughts and slides into the chair at my right.
“What’s up?”
“We have the radio station interviews this afternoon.”
“Yes, four of them.” I nod. “I put the reminder in your phone.”
His lips pull into a wide grin. “I want you there.”
“Oh, okay.” He’s never asked me along to any of these press outings they do pre-show. He’s been keeping me busy. My PA job is not a cover but legitimate work, which I appreciate. I’m still overpaid, but I try to make up for that by cooking meals and helping out wherever I can. If Trent wants me along today, I’ll be there. “Whatever you need.”
“I’ll probably use you for basic stuff like finding coffee, but I’d like you to see this side of the tour life. I mean, if you’re cool with that?”
My stomach churns with nerves. It’s more unknown. Another environment in which I’ll have no clue what I’m doing or how things work. Lord, I don’t even have a suitable outfit for the occasion. I can’t very well show up in ratty old jeans or cutoffs. One of my Sunday dresses will have to do. “I’m your PA. If you want me there, I’m there.”
He tilts his head and narrows his stare. “What’s the problem?”
“No problem.” I shake my head and paste on a smile I don’t really feel.
“You have a crease.” Trent reaches forward and taps my forehead. “Here. It’s only there when you seem worried. They won’t interview you. You’ll be behind the scenes the entire time.” His concern and protection is endearing.
“It’s not that.” My hands twist together in my lap. “I just . . . I don’t really have anything appropriate to wear.”
“Oh, that.” He waves a hand like that’ll take away my worry. “Consider the problem solved.”
“And how’s that?” I let loose a chuckle at his dismissal. Knowing Trent, he really does have everything taken care of.
“I know people. Trust me.”
I don’t know whether he really has a plan or is bullshitting me to keep my fears at rest, but it hits me that I really do trust him, and that sure is a wonderful feeling.
* * *
Trent wasn’t messing around.The minute we pull up to the arena he sends me off to meet with the wardrobe team. “Kelli and Stu are the best.”
“He speaks the truth.” The guy who I assume is Stu steps forward and takes my hand. He makes a clucking sound and spins me in a circle, his gaze critical and serious.
“I need her back in an hour. Work your magic.” Trent taps the doorframe and heads out to sound checks.
