Eli was so good at this sort of thing, the noticing of little details. Of course, he used it to catch criminals, too.
Glenn’s eyes widened a little, impressed again. Then they narrowed, and they sat in silence for a moment.
Then he gave his fingers a drum. And then lowered his voice to something approximating gentle.
“What are you still doing here, anyway, young lady?”
Her heart lurched.
“In... the Misty Cat?” Her voice was a little frayed. “Now?”
Because she was pretty sure she knew what he meant.
“In Hellcat Canyon. In general.”
Glory gave a short, nervous laugh. “You know an interview isn’t going well if it ends with your interviewer wanting you to get the hell out of town.”
But Glenn had heard her play. And she’d seen him stand absolutely motionless every time she’d played that Linda Ronstadt song “Long, Long Time.” And she’d seen his eyes get shiny.
Glenn wasn’t as crusty as he looked.
So at most every open mic she played, she included it in the set, just for him.
Glenn had seen every manner of college band stop in at the Misty Cat to play over the last decade. At least one band a month with a decent following, sometimes more. He loved music, and he had his own singular tastes and a strong sense of musical history.
And Glenn thought she was quite simply amazing.
“Weren’t you headed to San Francisco?”
She thought about what to say. “It’s... a long story.”
He could probably fill in the blanks. Everyone in town knew about the drama with Jonah.
Glenn was quiet a moment. “Sherrie wishes she had a whole record of you singing so she could listen to it in the bathtub. She does a whole girly thing with candles and bubbles and a glass of wine.” Glenn waved his hand in Sherrie’s direction.
“That’s sweet. One day soon, hopefully, I’ll have one for her.”
She’d never recorded a demo. She didn’t have the kind of laptop you could record things onto. Because she couldn’t yetaffordthe kind of laptop you could record things onto. She just sang into Jonah’s old tape recorder with her guitar. Admittedly, however, she loved the way that sounded: intimate, every rustle in the room and exhale of breath audible and somehow part of every song, and every now and then birdsong, or a door slamming, found its way onto the recording, too, and sounded somehow right.
She took a deep breath, ready to really sell Glenn on her.
“Okay, let’s look at all the pros. You’ve known me for a long time, so no surprises. What you see is what you get. I have a good memory, so I’ll never forget an order. I can think on my feet. I’ve never been late for anything in my whole life, and you know that, because I was at every softball practice right on the dot. I have, um... excellent balance, so I won’t be dropping things, and I like to move fast. Giorgio and I have an understanding.”
She shot Giorgio a look.
He ducked his head and applied himself to scraping the grill.
“I canmakepeople like me. I’ll do a good job.”
“You’ve got a way with a crowd, I’ll hand you that,” Glenn mused.
Sherrie swept by with a wet towel to bus a table and smiled encouragingly at Glory.
Glenn was thoughtful and quiet for a moment, studying her.
“You know, speaking of Sherrie’s notions, Glory, I built her a koi pond. She has some idea about meditating next to it.” He shook his head as if this was a hopelessly eccentric thing to do, but Glory knew how proud he was of Sherrie and how indulgent he was of any notion she might have. “You know what I learned when I was reading up on building koi ponds? If the pond is too small, those beautiful big fish suffer something fierce.”
Glory stared at him.