Page 18 of Ordinary Secrets

“You and Javina were wearing the same T-shirt yesterday. I just assumed...”

“Oh, right.” She relaxes. “I’m also a nanny over the weekends. How about you? What do you do?”

“You know what I do. I’m a musician.” I nod my head toward the stage I’m supposed to be behind right now.

“Do you do anything else?”

“Just this.”

Her fingers play with the end of her long braid. I can’t tell if she’s doing it out of habit or because she’s nervous. Here I am, playing that guessing game again.

“If you don’t have another job, what do you do in your free time?” she asks.

This is supposed to be me learning about her, not the other way around. I answer anyway. “Doing what I do keeps me busy enough. We film videos at least once a week and rehearse a lot. Then there’s all our writing and recording sessions. I also do a lot of the background work like song arrangements and producing. When I have free time, I like to ride my Harley around the suburbs, read, work out, you know.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it good.”

I purse my lips together into a thin line. “Sure.”

Something I’ve learned about life is that the way things look on the outside isn’t always what they are on the inside. I would trade away the Internet fame and everything I have if it meant I could live the life I would have if my parents had never been murdered.

“What do you do in your free time?” I ask.

“Um, are they looking for you?” Arella points toward the stage. I turn at the hip to find two crew members up there, cupping hands to their eyebrows and surveying the crowd.

Dammit.I’ve never been this late. Monique is gonna kill me.

“You’re staying for the whole set, right?” I force my ass to slide off my seat.

“How long does it go ’til?”

“Ten.”

“Oh, that’s kind of late.” She tugs at the bottom of her shirt. “I’ll stick around for as long as I can.”

“It’d mean a lot to me if you stayed. I’d like to know what you think of our music.” Ineedher to stay. If she leaves, I’ll have to plan another run-in with her. At that point, it might look suspicious.

I see the battle she’s having with herself in her head, even though I can’t sense it. I’ve gotta get her to stay, so, with the sweetest puppy-dog eyes I can muster, I add, “Please?”

After a moment, she lets out a breath and smiles sweetly. “All right. I’ll stay for your whole set.”

Thank fuck.“Great. I’ll come find ya when I’m done.”

Backstage, the openers are getting their instruments packed up as I beeline past them to my electric guitar. Liz and Emmy each have a microphone in their hand, flashing me awhat the helllook. Kevin, with his bass guitar strapped over a shoulder, taps the invisible watch on his wrist. Marcus spins his drumsticks around his fingers, shaking his head at me. The crew members are all in position, ready to roll. The only person not in sight is Monique, and I count it as a W.

I’m about to swing my guitar strap over my head when a large hand shoves me so hard, I’m launched forward a step. It’s Marcus, and his mood swarms around me like angry bees. “Bro, you missed our entire pre-show routine. I was ’bout to send out a search party.”

I throw both hands up in surrender. “I’m here now. No need for the helicopters.”

“I had ten dollars on you hiding in the bathroom, whackin’ one off.” Marcus huffs as he makes his way back to join the rest of our band near the stage door.

Our gray-haired sound manager replaces him. “I bet twenty dollars.” He hands me my earpiece.

I shove it into my ear, then hook the mic pack to the back of my jeans.

Our sound manager marches away as his voice bellows through my earpiece. “Found Grant. He’s ready.”

Monique growls my name through the device. I know it’s her from the same exasperated tone she always says my name in. “Trey Grant, I swear to Lord Jesus, you be givin’ me more aneurysms than all six of my children put together.”

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