“Nah, I’m free and clear for the rest of the afternoon. I make my own hours, for the most part.”
“You must have an understanding boss.”
“Perks of working for the family business.” He drums a finger against the logo on his chest. “My dad’s a sound technician for a lot of the local bars, restaurants, and club venues. I started helping him out last summer after I graduated from Vandy.”
“You went to Vanderbilt?”
He shoots me a glance. “Any more surprise in your tone, I’d be insulted.”
“I just figured you were all about the music. You don’t strike me as the college type.”
“Honestly, I’m not thesound techniciantype either, but try telling that to my father. He’d like nothing more than to see me take the reins of his company in a few years, so he and my mother can retire to a golf community for other empty-nesters.”
“And I’m guessing you’re not on board with that plan.”
“You could say that.” He shakes his head. “I have nothing but respect for my father. He’s hardworking as hell, paid for my college education, built this business from scratch… but I’ve never wanted his life.”
“You want to be on stage,” I murmur.
He glances at me. “Bet you think that’s pretty stupid, huh?”
“No! Of course not.”
“I find that surprising, given your firm stance on never making an album of your own.”
I unleash a lowharrumphnoise. “Leave my life choices out of this.”
“If you explainedwhyyou’re so dead-set against performing, I might understand. I might even stop pestering you about it.”
“Doubtful.”
“Try me.”
“Maybe I have stage fright,” I hedge.
“You? Miss Attitude?” He laughs. “I don’t think so.”
“Maybe you don’t know me all that well.”
“You know, if you ever talked about yourself, I’d know you better.”
“Only narcissists talk about themselves all the time.”
“I didn’t sayall the time. I saidever.”
“Okay, so, I’m not an open book.”
“Felicity, you’re a closed book. Padlocked shut. Written in code, so in the off chance you do manage to pry it open, you need a cypher key to make sense of it all.”
I roll my eyes. “What do you want from me, a round of twenty questions?”
“Nah — two or three should suffice.” He pauses. “For now.”
“I’m already regretting this.”
“Too late. You agreed. No backing out and no lying.”
“Fine.”