Page 12 of OctoBEARfest

"You don't have to help set up," Mike said, but Gwen shook her head.

"Oh, but I do. Even if I just run a couple cables somewhere, it goes a long way toward smoothing things out and making sure people don't think I'm too big for my britches. If I'm gonna drop in like this, yeah, I'll put in the tech work too. So is seven-thirty good?"

"Sounds great." Mike offered Gwen a hand, and they shook before Mike tilted his head toward Ripley. "You want to ask them to make the set list?"

Gwen's grin lit up the whole room. "I'd love to." She bounced out of her chair and went back to the stage, leaning on it as she spoke to the young guitarist.

Mike watched her, then turned his attention to Bill. "You have no idea who you booked there, do you?"

"Um." Bill spread his hands, embarrassed.

"She would've been Joan Jett, in a different generation. Rock's hard to break through with these days. She's this far," Mike held up his fingers a centimeter apart, "from that big break anyway. Real underground following. Won't sell tickets through any of the big vendors, though, and hasn't signed with a label since they tried to make her into Britney."

"Gwen?" Bill turned to look at the woman leaning on the stage, somewhere betweenof courseandno way, emotionally. "She doesn't look like a Britney type."

"No. She was famous as a kid star, but when she turned eighteen and they wanted to market her as the next pop princess, they couldn't get her to fit in the box. She put out an album so bad it's legendary." Mike chuckled. "It got her a lot of fans, in fact. They figured she couldn't have made an album that bad accidentally. But the label dumped her and she went dark, andhas been on her own since. I would've killed to sign somebody like her when I was a producer."

"A kid star?" Bill glanced toward the stage again, shaking his head. "I don't remember any Gwen Booker, but I didn't pay much attention to music even when I was a kid. So wait a minute, you mean she's working as a secretary and thinking about the van life because she had too many principles to play ball with a label?" Bill wasn't certain he'd had all that many preconceived notions about Gwen in the couple hours he'd known her, but he found he was having to rearrange some anyway. "I figured she was…"

"Working as close to the top as she was ever going to get? Nah. She could've been Pink, if she'd been able to play the game a little better. Or been willing to," Mike said. "I'm not sure she wasn'tableto. Like I said, you have to know exactly what you're doing to put out an album that bad. I'd love to talk to her about it, but I'm not sure it's something she wants to discuss. She changed her name and disappeared after that album, so you had to actually be watching and paying attention to realize she's the same woman. Either way, you landed on your feet, Bill. If you were going to screw up a booking, getting Gwen Booker and the Sixty Pix was about the best you possibly could have done. This place will be packed tonight. Speaking of which." He rose. "I should go hit the mailing lists and the chat rooms and let them know about our special guest star tonight. I'll see you later?"

"Apparently I'll be watching," Bill said absently, and just barely managed not to blush again as Mike cackled.

"You'll like what you see," he predicted, and headed over to shake hands with Gwen, then went off to his own business. Bill waited where he was, feeling large and out of place in a club space clearly meant for lithe young things. He was neither lithe nor young anymore, although he knew he wasn't really that old.He just felt old sometimes, and remembered from his own youth how adults in their late thirties had lookedancientto him.

Gwen, though. She fit into this space. Apparently she'd fit into it her whole life, although he couldn't for the life of him place her as any teen or kid star he remembered. Regardless, she wasn't that much younger than he was. Maybe it was all a mindset. His was old and boring and staid, and hers was vibrant and young and challenging.

He would make aterriblemate for someone like Gwen.

Don't be silly,his bear said.You're exactly what she needs. And she's what you need.

I'm not sure,Bill replied. It wasn't that he doubted the mate bond. It was more that he couldn't see how this one would work. He had a local business to run, and Gwen was apparently bordering on being a breakout rock star. Those two things just didn't seem to fit together, to him.

It'll work out,his bear promised him, and Bill, who had a lot of other things to worry about, sighed quietly and for the moment decided to just try to trust the bear, and the power of fate.Gwen was still chatting with Ripley, and it gave him a moment to watch her without any other agenda. The way she leaned on the stage gave him an exceptionally nice view of her rear end, particularly of a tear in her jeans across the bottom of her left cheek. There was no sign of panties, although he assumed that meant they were high cut, rather than she wasn't wearing any. He'd always assumed wearing jeans without underwear must be uncomfortable for women, with the riding up he figured the denim would do. He'd also never asked.

You could ask Gwen, his bear said brightly.

Bill made a face.Maybe when I've known her for more than two hours.

Hmph. Two hours, two years, it won't matter. She's your mate. She'll tell you.

Maybe,Bill said,but it seems like a weirdly invasive thing to just ask.

The bear sighed dramatically and said,Humans,again in a tone that suggested it would never really understand Bill's reluctance to bring certain topics up.

Gwen finally pushed away from the stage, shaking herself. Her hair shivered in delightful waves, and her leather coat fell into place. Bill took a moment to be grateful that October in Colorado wasn't, mostly, all that cold yet, so she could get away with wearing a waist-length leather jacket instead of something sensible and warm that would cover her from the top of her head to her knees. It looked sogoodon her.

A hungry, horny little part of his brain informed him that it bet the coat would look even betteroffher, especially if all the rest of her clothes also mysteriously disappeared.

Bill said, "No," firmly and aloud, as if both his bear and his betraying brain would listen better that way. Gwen, coming back over to him, lifted her eyebrows curiously.

"No?"

"I was, uh." Bill scrambled for an explanation and landed on one that seemed plausible. "Telling myself not to look at the family chat, that's all."

"Brave of you." Gwen smiled up at him. "Is that a lion we need to beard in its den?"

"Bear," Bill said absently.

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