Liberty shrugged. “I’m his personal assistant, remember?”
“But you’ve got to be more than that,” Odette blurted. “Devin never lets anyone stay on his tour bus. And you’ve pretty much moved in.”
“All the better to offer my personal assistance whenever Devin needs it.” God. It burned her damn tongue to say that, but she let Odette assign meaning to it.
Odette looked . . . sorry for her. Then she dropped it. “Let’s see what delectable morsels the promotion company ordered for us tonight. The first and last nights of tour are usually when they go all-out on the food.”
Liberty was pleased the security guards manning the outer door checked everyone’s passes. The half of the room cordoned off for fans was packed, while on the other side, a couple dozen people milled about, holding drinks but not eating.
“Hang on,” Odette said and vanished into the crowd.
This type of situation made her jumpy. Too many people. Too many ways to get to Devin. She checked out the other four security guys inside the room. Even though they were staying alert, she couldn’t drop her guard. But since Devin wasn’t here, she should probably eat.
She wandered over to the tables loaded with fancy food. Beautifully crafted rolls of sushi, skewers of roasted meat, mini pulled-pork sandwiches, bread with several different pesto and tomato toppings, artisan cheeses, creamy dips for the bowls of hand-cut potato chips. She didn’t see any of the freeze-and-heat type of grocery store appetizers she was used to. Next to the bowls of brined olives was a mountain of fresh-cut vegetables and plates of exotic fruit. At the end of the table she spied trays of chocolate desserts with swirled rainbow-colored icing and gold flecks that she was afraid to touch.
A deep voice behind her said, “Seems a waste, don’t it? All this pretty, expensive damn food and no one has touched it.”
Liberty faced Crash. “I don’t see a plate in your hand.”
“So let’s be the first ones to load up.”
She piled her plate high. “What happens to all this food if no one eats it?”
“Depends. Devin has stipulations in his contract that if we’re near a kids’ home or a women’s shelter, they get first dibs. If we’re close to a military base or a veterans’ facility, it gets delivered to the mess hall. Boomer, our sound guy, is the resident do-gooder, so he makes sure it goes someplace besides in the damn garbage.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I know soldiers would be thrilled to get grub this good.”
They found a table that gave her a decent view of the room.
“I’m assuming there haven’t been any problems tonight?” Crash asked.
“None.”
“Were there women waiting for him at the ready room after the performance?”
Liberty shook her head. “That shit’s been stopped.”
Crash nearly choked on his sandwich. “No women at all?”
“Don’t pity the poor man, Crash; he’s with a woman now. The others are allowed to wait in the hallway, and they’ll be checked out before they get near him. From what I can see, the biggest threat to his safety is him suffocating from all the ladies who want to dog pile him.”
He laughed. “And a few men too. But it ain’t as bad as all that. A lot of what you’ll hear about him and his um . . . appetites are bald-faced lies to sell sleazy magazines.” He crunched a chip. “His bandmates think you’re his new girlfriend and the PA thing is just a front.”
“I know.”
“You don’t have a problem with them thinking you’re a pushover for letting him f**k whoever he wants while you’re supposedly in his bed every night?”
Her gaze met his. “Makes it easier all around if they think I’m a pushover. And to be blunt, I don’t give a flying f**k how they judge me. It’s not like I’ll become besties with any of them.”
“Harsh.”
“You, Devin and I know that I’m not here to make friends. So the first time Odette asks me to have lunch with her and Tay and I decline, they’ll be fine. But the third or fourth time I say no. Then they’ll think I’m so c**k whipped that I can’t leave Devin’s side even for a lousy hour. I’m good with that too. Because I won’t be having girl time or lunch with them. Ever.”
Crash’s eyes turned serious. “You’re better at this job than I thought you’d be. Just think. We only have sixty-seven more performances to get through.”
“Since Devin isn’t very forthcoming about his bandmates, can you give me a rundown on each one? Hookups, history, length of time Devin’s been working with them?”
“Most of them have been with him since his third album. Jase is the lead guitar player and he’s on again, off again with Tay. Tay is the keyboard player and backup singer. Odette is our string virtuoso. She and Dev were involved for a while, but now she and Steve, our drummer have been together for years. Gage is the bassist. Leon plays slide steel. They’ve both been with him since the beginning.”
“Are they studio musicians when they’re not on tour?”
He shook his head. “Someone at Devin’s level could hire top-notch studio musicians and tour with them. The record label suggested that, but Devin is loyal. He trusts all of his band members and considers them his family. At one time he approached the label about rebranding themselves as the Devin McClain Band, but they shot him down.”