Hillbilly Rockstar
Page 18Pick apart? He’d freely offered up the information. “I’m just preparing myself for what I might run into over the next few months.”
“There’s no way you can prepare for it because when the weird shit happens to me, I’m never prepared. Even if it’s similar to something I’ve faced before.” He disappeared down the hallway without another word.
And he called her prickly? Sheesh.
Looking out the window didn’t give her any idea where they were. She hit the intercom. “Reg? How far are we from Salt Lake City?”
“An hour and a half.”
“Cool. Thanks.”
She watched another episode of Dexter. Then she checked to make sure she could get online so she could log onto Call of Duty during her downtime. She so rarely got to play during the day. It’d be interesting to see the difference between daytime and nighttime gamers.
She ate a protein bar and double-checked her hair and makeup. Maintaining her new style hadn’t been as time-consuming as she’d imagined. Plus, she did look more professional. Just wearing a little lip color softened her mouth, which she’d always thought was too harsh looking. Spike and Zeke—Joe’s brothers who’d dropped her off—had even whistled upon seeing her feminine side. Of course, she’d immediately threatened to knock them on their asses if they believed girly clothes had changed her.
The look on Devin’s face when he caught sight of her? Priceless.
After slipping her gun in her waistband holster, she went to the front of the bus.
Devin had draped a suit bag across the bench seat.
When she glanced over at him, he was blatantly checking her out. She could blush and ignore it or call him on it. “Do I pass inspection?”
“More than pass. Good enough that I’d make a pass at you, but I suspect you’re armed.” His dark gaze swept over her again. “You carrying right now?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
She lifted her blouse and showed him a modified holster that stayed snug against her body but gave her easy access to her weapon.
“I’ll be damned. Sometime you’ll have to show me how fast you can pull.”
Properly chastised, he said, “What kind of gun is that? It looks small.”
“It’s a Kahr Arms PM45. It’s compact with the stopping power of a forty-five.” Liberty changed the subject. “What do you usually do first when you get off the bus?”
“Track down Crash and Sarge and see if there were any problems with setup. Then the event staff shows up.”
“Event staff. Who is that?”
“The head honcho responsible for bringing acts like mine into the venue. His or her assistants.”
“And your security.”
“They take me backstage. Show me the food service room and my ready room.” At her blank look, he said, “A ready room is just my private room. I require one at every venue—regardless of the size of the venue. The room can be decked out like a five-star hotel room or a canvas tent, or anything in between.” He pointed to the suit bag and the duffel. “Since I can’t send my guitar guru, Check, to the bus anymore to get things I’ll need in my room, that’s my clothing for tonight and tomorrow night.”
The bus slowed down. While Liberty was taking in the sights of Salt Lake City, Devin leaned back with his eyes closed. She couldn’t imagine how much pressure he was under, playing to a sold-out crowd two nights in a row. She wanted to ask him if he ever got nervous before going onstage, but he radiated that “back off” vibe, so she stayed quiet.
“Not really. How about you?”
He bestowed that million-dollar grin on her. “Darlin’, I was born ready. I live for this. Come on, let’s hit it.”
Chapter Six
Liberty acted cool, like being backstage at a Devin McClain show was no big deal. But secretly she was as excited as the first time she shot a grenade launcher.
The preshow activity had put her on edge. Luckily, Devin had two escorts as he entered the back door of the event center and two more inside. She didn’t think the big events would be the problem anyway, but the smaller county fair venues. When Garrett had suggested canceling the preshow or the aftershow party, the promoter had refused. Devin agreed. Interactions with his fans were a big part of the tour. He wouldn’t disappoint people who had paid extra for their tickets for a chance to meet him.
Devin had a no-contact rule prior to the performance. When she’d asked him about it, he said he needed time to get his head on straight and warm up before he walked onstage. So tonight he’d shooed her out of his ready room and she’d prowled the halls, watching the multitude of people it took to put on a show this size. From the catering staff to the media personnel, the roadies, the tech guys, the crew who traveled with the opening act.
She finally understood why he needed solitude. He had to be overwhelmed by everyone who wanted a piece of him. She wondered if it’d be a zoo tonight at the after-party that kicked off his headlining gig.
The crew removed the last of the opening act’s equipment, and Devin’s roadies had the switchover completed in ten minutes. The arena went dark. The crowd started chanting, “Devin, Devin, Devin.”