My stomach quivered as I headed toward the stage. Frankie had introduced me to two really strong prospects for a job. I was grateful. If one of them worked out, I could still be part of the business.
Now I just had to make a move on a new man very publicly.
This boy fit all the bills. Sexy. Handsome. Interested.
He was also not connected to any of Frankie’s movies, so there wouldn’t be any drama as they went into release.
He was, in a word, the perfect score.
The band was winding down a song as I moved through the crowd. The O-Maker, as I had come to think of him while I waited on the go-ahead from Frankie, moved in and out of my vision as I passed through people.
But he was watching me head toward him.
Waiting.
I took my time, wondering if any cameras were close enough to catch me when I got there. I didn’t sense any. I couldn’t sneak away with this guy and sneak back. We had to be noticed. Captured. Shared.
My stomach fluttered again.
The rest of the band climbed up on the stage. The lead singer shouted at the crowd, his voice distorted enough that I couldn’t quite understand him. Some tepid clapping followed.
They lacked something. Charisma. Presence. I wasn’t sure. There were people here who could have assessed that, but I didn’t care. The O-Maker had everything I was looking for.
Except he was gone again.
I stayed in the middle of the ambivalent crowd, listening to them play a song I’d never heard. Once again, it was passable. I scanned the crowd for the boy, although I wasn’t tall enough to see very far.
Frustrated, I pushed past a linebacker-sized actor and saw my target hopping up on the stage. I slowed down. Was he going to sing?
The guy in purple shades motioned him over.
My guy walked over to the mike. “Hello, I’m Chance, and Paul here has kindly invited this Tennessee boy up to do a number.”
Chance.
His name was Chance.
“Yeah!” Paul bellowed. He lifted his guitar strap over his head and handed it to Chance.
I made it to the base of the stage, where the crowd had left a gap, the party goers uninterested. I wondered if my boy choice was going to get their attention, or if he would be terrible.
I was rooting for him.
Chance turned to the other band members and nodded his head. The drummer slammed into a driving beat, and Chance spun to the mike, looking out at the crowd. He hadn’t noticed me up so close, practically at his feet.
“This is a song I think a lot of you will recognize, a little ditty called ‘Let the Good Times Roll.’”
The band crashed into the opening licks, and when Chance started singing, I wanted to laugh out loud with giddiness. His voice was pure magic, deep and edgy.
He moved across the stage like a fury, all energy and muscle. I was so close I could feel the wood floor shifting under his feet. His fingers squeezed the guitar in a steady grip. I was mesmerized by every movement. I could already see how his skilled hands would work on me.
I was hooked.
The band wasn’t quite on, as if they hadn’t rehearsed this one much, but Chance made up for it. The crowd began to turn to look at the stage, moving along to the beat, taking a ride on Chance’s fluid vocals.
I felt myself start to unfurl, to loosen up inside. This would be fine. He’d come off the stage. He’d see me. The attention would be directed at us long enough to make the point. And the way the focus was shifting to this hot sensation, it would be logical that I fell for him. People here would get it.
Headline: Blues-singing rock god seduces movie director’s girl at party.
The song rollicked along for another chorus, then Chance brought them to a strong stop with a motion of his hand.
That’s when he saw me.
He froze a second, as if he couldn’t believe I was so close after he’d searched for me for so long. His smile spread to a wide grin. I’m sure my panties would have gone flying, if I’d been wearing any.
“Thank you,” he said to the crowd, which was actually showing some enthusiasm now. But he kept his eyes on me.
I thought the lead singer would take back over, but Chance turned and stepped close to the bass guitarist, asking him something. The guy nodded, and Chance turned back to the mike. “We’re gonna bring it down for a second. So grab your woman, if you’ve got one, because this one is for all of you lovely ladies here tonight.”
He looked down at me a second, and I was close enough to see his hesitation, as if maybe this wasn’t a good idea. But his gaze went back to the crowd and he seemed satisfied as a few people drew closer together.
The drummer clicked out a simple count, and when Chance played the opening line, I felt my knees go liquid. That song. Whoa, that song. Behind me, I felt the crowd pause, attention trained on this man, as if they were ready to give this guy a chance.
Chance.
He closed his eyes as he prepared for that first line. My breath held. Hell of a standard he was about to compete against. A whole blues legacy.