laughing. Yep, Eli is
totally playing him. Shit, I’m about to lose it and Kenneth’s fuse is already
lit.
“Thank you, Luke,” Kenneth continues, thankfully missing my gentle
sarcasm. “As I was saying, lunch will be available in catering from 11:30 to 2:30.
Please do not ask them to hold it again like in New Orleans. Three hours should
be plenty of time and…”
“Hey, that was Sweeny!” Eli defends, and I kick him under
the table. “ Ow ! What? It was!” he cries, and I roll
my eyes, before turning back to Kenneth.
“You know what? Here,” our tour manager grumbles. “Why don’t
I just leave this with you, and you all can read it at your leisure.” He pops
open the rings of the binder and yanks out the schedule. You know he’s had it
when he parts with any sliver of that binder.
“Thanks, Kenneth. We’ll review it. Promise.”
“Great. Just don’t be late for lunch,” he mutters.
“Got it,” I assure him, and have to cough to cover my laugh
when he spins and collides with the kid still standing on the steps.
“ Wha …off!” Kenneth almost screams,
pointing toward the exit.
Eli doesn’t even try to hide his amusement and snorts so
hard, the table shakes. “God, he hates us!” he cries after we’re alone, stilling
laughing.
I grin. “You’re finding us a new tour manager when he quits.
You know that, right?”
He shrugs and wipes his eyes. “I can’t help it! It’s so
easy!”
I laugh and grab another donut.
∞∞∞
The others have gone to lunch, so I’m startled at the sound
of footsteps on the stairs of the bus. Even more so when Holland pokes her head
into the lounge and tosses me a warm smile. I can’t say I’m entirely displeased
to see her, just surprised.
“Callie told me I could find you here.”
“Should I be worried that you’re trying
to hunt me down again?”
“Only if you were lying about that ’43
J45.”
I laugh and push myself up from the
couch. “I wasn’t. Hang on.”
I retrieve the case from the back lounge
and place it on the table in the main space. She’s already exploding with
excitement, and I love that she practically forgets about me the second it
comes into view. Her eyes are glued to the case like I’ve just returned with
the crown jewels.
I open it and step back so she can
access the treasure inside, and she approaches with a solemn reverence. Her
eyes are huge as she touches the dark wood, running her fingers along the
smooth surface, gently as if it might disintegrate if she’s not careful. I love
everything about this moment, and am filled with a strange pride that she’s
able to appreciate the magnificence of the gem before her as much as I do.
“May I?” she asks, gazing at me with
almost childlike awe.
I grin and nod. “Of course. I
promised.”
“It’s nearly flawless!” she whispers,
lifting it from its case. “Almost perfect condition.”
I smile. “Yeah, I paid for that, believe
me. Everything is original. Bridge, frets, pick guard,
even the case. It’s the Banner model with the maple.”
She shakes her head, still staring at
it in wonder. “Um, ok. Can we just get married now so I can adopt her?”
I laugh. “I guess I’ve had worse offers
over the years. Wouldn’t that conflict with your rule though?”
She meets my gaze with a quick grin
before focusing back on the guitar. “Ugh. Damn rules. Alright ,
enough stalling. I have to play this thing.”
She drops to a seat and balances the
guitar on her lap, her arms wrapping around it with a casual grace. She passes
a few tentative strums, and I can almost sense her shiver. I know what she’s
experiencing. I remember the first time I held it and introduced our present to
this beautiful piece of history.
“It needs to be tuned, but I’m afraid
to touch the pegs!” she cries, glancing at me again.
I shake my head with a grin. “Want me
to do it?”
She laughs. “No, I got it.” When she
finishes, she glances back at me with a
totally playing him. Shit, I’m about to lose it and Kenneth’s fuse is already
lit.
“Thank you, Luke,” Kenneth continues, thankfully missing my gentle
sarcasm. “As I was saying, lunch will be available in catering from 11:30 to 2:30.
Please do not ask them to hold it again like in New Orleans. Three hours should
be plenty of time and…”
“Hey, that was Sweeny!” Eli defends, and I kick him under
the table. “ Ow ! What? It was!” he cries, and I roll
my eyes, before turning back to Kenneth.
“You know what? Here,” our tour manager grumbles. “Why don’t
I just leave this with you, and you all can read it at your leisure.” He pops
open the rings of the binder and yanks out the schedule. You know he’s had it
when he parts with any sliver of that binder.
“Thanks, Kenneth. We’ll review it. Promise.”
“Great. Just don’t be late for lunch,” he mutters.
“Got it,” I assure him, and have to cough to cover my laugh
when he spins and collides with the kid still standing on the steps.
“ Wha …off!” Kenneth almost screams,
pointing toward the exit.
Eli doesn’t even try to hide his amusement and snorts so
hard, the table shakes. “God, he hates us!” he cries after we’re alone, stilling
laughing.
I grin. “You’re finding us a new tour manager when he quits.
You know that, right?”
He shrugs and wipes his eyes. “I can’t help it! It’s so
easy!”
I laugh and grab another donut.
∞∞∞
The others have gone to lunch, so I’m startled at the sound
of footsteps on the stairs of the bus. Even more so when Holland pokes her head
into the lounge and tosses me a warm smile. I can’t say I’m entirely displeased
to see her, just surprised.
“Callie told me I could find you here.”
“Should I be worried that you’re trying
to hunt me down again?”
“Only if you were lying about that ’43
J45.”
I laugh and push myself up from the
couch. “I wasn’t. Hang on.”
I retrieve the case from the back lounge
and place it on the table in the main space. She’s already exploding with
excitement, and I love that she practically forgets about me the second it
comes into view. Her eyes are glued to the case like I’ve just returned with
the crown jewels.
I open it and step back so she can
access the treasure inside, and she approaches with a solemn reverence. Her
eyes are huge as she touches the dark wood, running her fingers along the
smooth surface, gently as if it might disintegrate if she’s not careful. I love
everything about this moment, and am filled with a strange pride that she’s
able to appreciate the magnificence of the gem before her as much as I do.
“May I?” she asks, gazing at me with
almost childlike awe.
I grin and nod. “Of course. I
promised.”
“It’s nearly flawless!” she whispers,
lifting it from its case. “Almost perfect condition.”
I smile. “Yeah, I paid for that, believe
me. Everything is original. Bridge, frets, pick guard,
even the case. It’s the Banner model with the maple.”
She shakes her head, still staring at
it in wonder. “Um, ok. Can we just get married now so I can adopt her?”
I laugh. “I guess I’ve had worse offers
over the years. Wouldn’t that conflict with your rule though?”
She meets my gaze with a quick grin
before focusing back on the guitar. “Ugh. Damn rules. Alright ,
enough stalling. I have to play this thing.”
She drops to a seat and balances the
guitar on her lap, her arms wrapping around it with a casual grace. She passes
a few tentative strums, and I can almost sense her shiver. I know what she’s
experiencing. I remember the first time I held it and introduced our present to
this beautiful piece of history.
“It needs to be tuned, but I’m afraid
to touch the pegs!” she cries, glancing at me again.
I shake my head with a grin. “Want me
to do it?”
She laughs. “No, I got it.” When she
finishes, she glances back at me with a
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