Public Secrets

Struggling to steady her breath, she took her own survey. He was dressed for the stage in snug white leather studded with silver. Boots of the same style and color came halfway to his knees. With his hair tousled and the half-smile on his face, he made Emma think of a smartly dressed cowboy.
“So do you,” she managed when she realized how long she’d been staring. “Look incredible.”
“We want to make a splash.” He rubbed his palms on the thigh of his pants. “All of us are half sick with nerves. Don—the bass player—he’s all the way sick. Got his head in the John next door.”
“Da always says you perform better when you’re nervous.”
“Then we ought to be a hell of a smash.” Tentatively, he took her hand. “Listen, have you thought about maybe going out after, having a drink?”
She had thought of nothing else. “Actually, I—”
“I’m pushing.” Drew let out a long breath. “I can’t help it. As soon as I saw you—it was like, wow, there she is.” He dragged a hand through his carefully mussed and moussed hair. “I’m not doing this very well.”
“Aren’t you?” She wondered that he couldn’t hear her heart thudding against her ribs.
“No.” He took her hand. “Let me put it this way. Emma, save my life. Spend an hour with me.”
Her lip curved slowly until the dimple winked at the corner of her mouth. “I’d love to.”

S HE HARDLY HEARD the cheers. Her brain barely registered the music. When it was over, and her father, dripping sweat, came off the stage for the last time, she knew that if a fraction of the dozens of pictures she’d taken turned out to be worth anything, it would be a miracle.
“Christ, I’m starving.” Mopping his face and hair, he headed for the dressing room, cheers and screams still ringing in his ears. “What do you say, Emma? Let’s drag the rest of these rock relics out for a pizza.”
“Oh, well, I’d love to but—” She hesitated, not sure why she felt uncomfortable. “I’ve got some things to do.” Quickly, she reached up to kiss him. “You were wonderful.”
“What did you expect?” Johnno asked as he elbowed his way down the crowded hall. He dropped his voice to a creaky whisper. “We’re legends.”
His red face streaming, P.M. stopped beside them. “That Lady Annabelle—with the hair.” He held his hands out to the side of his own head to demonstrate.
“The one in the red suede and diamonds?” Emma offered.
“I suppose. She wangled a spot backstage.” P.M. swiped a hand over his brow. Though his voice was aggrieved, laughter sparkled in his eyes. “When I went by, she—she—” He cleared his throat, shaking his head as if he could hardly go on. “She tried to molest me.”
“Good God, call the law.” Johnno swung a comforting arm around his shoulder. “Women like that should be locked up. I know you must feel used and dirty, dearie, but don’t you worry. Come tell Uncle Johnno all about it.” He started to lead P.M. off. “Just what did she touch, and how? Don’t be afraid to be specific.”
Chuckling, Brian watched them go. “P.M. always attracts the blatant sort. Hard to figure.”
There was affection in his tone. Emma caught it, wondering if her father knew he’d forgiven his old friend. Then she saw the smile fade. Stevie stood a few feet away, resting a shoulder against the wall. His face was pale, both it and his hair running with sweat. Emma thought he looked ten years older than his contemporaries.
“Come on, son.” In a casual move, Brian slipped an arm around his waist, steadying, taking the weight. “What we need’s a shower and some red meat.”

“Da, can I help?”
With a brisk shake of his head, Brian turned toward Stevie’s dressing room. This wasn’t something he would turn over to his daughter or anyone else. “No, I’ll take care of it.”
“I’ll—see you at home,” she murmured, but he had already closed the door. Feeling a little lost, she went to find Drew.

S HE EXPECTED HIM to pick a loud, crowded club with hot rock music—Tramp or Taboo. Instead, she found herself sitting in the dim corner booth of a smoky jazz club in Soho. There was a trio spotlighted in dreamy blue on the stage, a pianist, a bass player, and a vocalist. They kept the music low and moody, like the lighting.
“I hope you don’t mind coming here.”
“No.” Deliberately, Emma unlaced her hands and relaxed her shoulders. She was grateful for the low lighting so that Drew couldn’t see