Page 63 of Mine

“Hi Tara,” I said. “Nice to meet you.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m assuming you’re here to scout Mr. Mysterious.” She winked at Salt, and I felt yucky jealousy claw at my chest.

“She’s a friend,” Salt said. “I’ll be back. I need to put on my mask and tune my guitar. And check in with the guys. Pepper, do you need anything?”

“She’s safe with me, handsome,” Tara purred, giving him an appreciative once over.

Salt gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze and then left us. It took every shred of strength I possessed not to follow after him like some lost puppy.

What is wrong with me?I forced a smile and focused on Tara. “I’m excited to hear you play tonight.”

“Thanks,” she said, sliding off the amp. “I’m excited to be here.”

I nodded. “You’re from Chicago?”

“Yes,” she said. “There’s four of us in the band. My brother and I started it five years ago, and I don’t know. It kind of went from there.”

“Do you write your own music?” I asked.

“We do,” she said. “Well, my brother, Tanner, mostly writes the lyrics. I write the melodies. And then our friends, Mario and Al, have been essential to creating our sound. We make a good team.”

I glanced up, spotting the two who were probably Mario and Al. Another man, who was definitely her brother, gave us a wave but went back to unraveling an abundance of chords. The drummer and keyboard player from Salt’s band came down the steps into the room, their groups forming a circle as they clearly worked through whatever issues they were having.

“Fuck,” she sighed. “I don’t love this venue. It’s not what we were told it would be. I should probably double check a few things while Salt plays.”

“Do you need help with anything?” I asked.

She raised a brow. “Aren’t you a label executive?”

“Yes,” I laughed. “And?”

“I just figured you’re here to listen. And definitely not work.”

“Well, Iamhere to listen,” I said. “But I know how to run a sound system, among other things. Like lighting. It’s been awhile since I’ve been backstage, but I can help. Put me to work.”

I needed to dosomethingthat wasn’t fawning over Salt.

She chewed on her bottom lip and hummed. “Actually… You know how to run lights?”

“Yep.”

“Okay… Obviously you can say no, but I think I would rather you run lights than the asshole they have doing it.”

I grimaced. “The green is hideous.”

She nodded in agreement. “Oh my god, it’s horrible. Okay, yeah, let’s go kick him out. I can pay you?—”

“Don’t be silly,” I said.

Tara hesitated, but then looked over at the rest of her band. Salt’s bass player joined the fray and it made me wonder how many men it really took to fix whatever issue they were having. “Are you sure?”

“Yep.”

“Okay. You’ll have a great view of the stage, too. And won’t have to deal with all the stage smoke or the drunks.”

“Perfect. Show me where the lighting booth is,” I said.

I glanced over at Salt and smiled to myself. He was sinking into his stage presence. His mask was on, his shirt off, and every part of me wanted to get back on my knees in front of him and suck him off while he sang me a song.

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