Page 21 of The Duet

Someone bumping against my seat disturbs my train of thought. I resettle, exhale deeply, and tune into her voice again. Lana’s voice is the reason—

“Hey, Cleo.” The bumping continues. I have no choice but to open my eyes. Someone appears in desperate need of my attention. I take out my ear buds, silencing Lana in the process.

“Sorry to disturb you,” Billie says. “Can I sit with you for a minute?”

She must be over Jess asking her all the questions about Lana. And I can hardly say no to a Lady King. “Sure.” I remove the book from the seat next to me.

“How are you?” Billie asks as she sits next to me. “Is touring with The Lady Kings everything you’ve ever dreamed of?”

Maybe not exactly everything, but close enough. “It’s fucking amazing. How is it for you?”

“It’s great. The spirit of Joan is still alive and kicking, and it’s not always easy having to fill that spot, but it is a dream come true to be on stage with Lana, Deb, and Sam every night. They’re living legends, so I’m counting my lucky stars.”

“Oh, I know.” Maybe Billie and I can bond over our shared admiration for The Lady Kings. She’s in a unique position as a new member of the band. “So are we.”

“That encore you do with Lana is off the charts, by the way. She’d better watch out or you’ll run off with her crown.”

I chuckle. “Not much chance of that.” I turn to Billie so I can get a better look at her. “What was it like when you first played with them?”

“Like becoming part of rock history. Getting this job has been…” She holds up her hands as though it’s too much of an honor to adequately express in words. I know exactly how she feels.

I nod.

“I was just saying to Jess that your band is pretty damn amazing,” Billie continues.

I pull my face into a grimace, hoping it will convey my apologies for Jess’s hardcore interview earlier.

Billie leans into me. “She’s got the serious hots for Lana, huh? And she’s not shy about it either.”

“Did Jess invite you onto our bus to get all the dirt on Lana?”

Billie shakes her head. “I invited myself. I thought it a good opportunity to get to know you better.”

“Sure.” Maybe she’ll take turns sitting with all four of us on this long drive.

“Just for my information, am I going to spend the next half hour talking about Lana Lynch as well?” She beams me a smile.

While it would be no hardship for me to ask Billie all she knows about Lana, I get the message loud and clear that she’s done talking about The Lady Kings’ front woman.

I shake my head. “Tell me all about yourself, Billie.” I send her an encouraging smile. “Not the stuff I’ve read on Wikipedia. Tell me something I don’t know yet.”

She finds my gaze, then looks away. “Sorry, I was trying to think of a pickup line, but my brain doesn’t seem to be wired for that this early in the morning.”

A pickup line? What is she talking about? I decide it’s best to ignore what she’s just said. This tour is long and remaining on good terms with everyone is always one of the biggest challenges. Then her phone rings. She quickly fishes it out of her pocket.

“Speak of the devil.” She shows me the screen. “It’s Lana. I might be about to get an earful.” She picks up and turns away from me.

Why is she about to get an earful from Lana? Billie’s sitting right next to me, so it’s impossible not to eavesdrop. Meanwhile, I push myself up and try to find someone to make eyes at so they can come to my rescue. I find Tim’s gaze and wordlessly try to get the message across that I need rescuing from a Lady King who might be about to hit on me. In return, he just shoots me a funny look.

“I’m sorry,” Billie says into her phone. “I know I should have said something. I just wasn’t feeling it this morning and I didn’t want to get into the whole thing. We’ll talk later. Okay?”

She makes some guttural noises in the back of her throat as she listens to what Lana has to say on the other end of the line, then hangs up.

Shoulders deflated, she sinks into her seat. “Apparently, I’m a bit rusty when it comes to band politics, especially tour politics,” she says on a sigh.

I don’t want to stick my nose in where it doesn’t belong, but I am curious. “Are you okay?”

“I have some wrinkles to smooth out with my bandmates. It’s my own fault, really.” She takes a breath and turns to me again, her smile high-wattage. “Can I ask you something delicate?”

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