Libby checked her watch. She’d been here almost three hours.
She’d only planned on writing a couple of pages of her latest manuscript after the talk show last night, but the story had flowed, and before she knew it, it was two in the morning.
Now she was desperately trying to stay awake, ignore her aching hand and show her fans the attention they deserved. She handed a blank notebook to the young girl standing in front of her. “Write your name, there so I’ll spell it right when I write in the front of your book.”
The girl’s mother snatched the pad out of her daughter’s hands and scrawled a name down before thrusting it back at Libby. “Jane is not difficult to spell.”
Libby put on her best polite-and-pleasant smile. “I’ve seen three different spellings of Jane so far and it’s often hard to hear over the din when people spell it out. I’d hate to get it wrong.” She turned to the young girl. “Who’s your favorite character, Jane?”
“I love Shannon. She’s so brave.” The girl jigged up and down.
“You’ll love what she gets up to in this story,” Libby said as she wrote in the front of the book. She handed it back to Jane and flexed her sore hand. “I hope you enjoy it.”
As the girl and her mother turned away from the table, Libby applied the now warm cold pack to her hand and checked the line. Another ten people and she was done. She loved meeting her fans, but today her hand ached like she’d hit it with a hammer. There was only the slightest tinge of bruising, though – nowhere dark enough for the pain it gave her. She swallowed a yawn as the next person stepped up.
Half an hour to go.
***
An hour later, Libby was getting desperate. The line wasn’t any shorter, her water bottle was empty and the pain in her hand was terrible. The bookshop owner was oblivious to the time. He stood to one side, grinning at the never-ending line of paying customers.
Libby waved him over, but he didn’t meet her gaze. She turned her attention to the next child, wincing a little as she signed her name.
“How long have you been here?” the child’s mother asked.
Libby cleared her dry throat. “A few hours.”
The mother noticed the empty water bottle on the table. “And they haven’t provided you any refreshments?” She looked around. “Is he the owner?” she asked, gesturing to the man.
“Yes.”
“I’ll make sure he brings you something to drink.”
Libby was too relieved to refuse. “Thank you. I can’t get his attention.”
“It’s my pleasure. Your books give me hours of ‘me’ time while Jenny reads. I should be thanking you.”
Some of Libby’s tiredness evaporated and her smile was sincere. “I’m glad to help.”
Boosted by the praise, she turned to the next child while the woman went to speak to the owner. Within minutes, the owner was offering her a fresh bottle of water. Before he could leave, she touched his arm, indicated that he should wait, and finished signing the book in front of her.
“I need you to make sure no one else joins the line.”
The man smiled a big fake smile. “But surely you don’t want to disappoint your fans?”
Be polite. “Of course not, but I do have other commitments and I’ve already stayed for longer than planned.” He didn’t need to know her commitments were to herself. She needed to do some more writing.
“But your publicist said this was your last signing in Melbourne.”
Libby fixed a smile on her face and inwardly cursed her publicist. “Book signings aren’t my only commitments. Besides,” she smiled harder, trying to make it seem genuine, “I haven’t eaten since lunch, and with the water I’ve had, I’ll need to visit the ladies room soon.”
The man scowled at her as if she should be superhuman.
“Don’t be so inconsiderate,” the woman next in line told him. “She’s been here hours and the poor dear looks exhausted. If you don’t stop people lining up, I will.”
Bless her, Libby thought as she waited for the owner’s reaction.
“Fine,” he said and stormed off.
The woman checked he was doing what she’d asked of him and then grinned at Libby. “Not many to go, love.”
A pang of guilt whizzed through Libby’s stomach. “I normally wouldn’t mind – ”
The woman held up a hand. “No need to explain. You can’t be expected to sit around until there’s no one left. You’ve got far more patience than I have. I would have been bored hours ago.” She scrawled her name on the notepad and handed over her book. “My name’s Myrtle.”
Libby opened the front page and wrote her thanks before handing it back.
Myrtle read the message and grinned again, hugging the book to her chest. “My pleasure.”
The next few people went by in a blur, and when Libby checked there was only one person left in the line. She let out a slow, soft sigh of relief and greeted the young boy. She signed the book, answered his questions and then put down her pen.
“What do you mean Libby’s finished? She’s sitting right there.” The voice was loud and incredulous, but it was the Texan drawl that caught Libby’s attention. It sounded very much like Kent Downer.
She said goodbye to the young boy and his father and waited until they left so she could see who was making the fuss.
He was the same height and build as the rock star but that was where the resemblance ended. His dark hair was combed flat, and his white muscle T-shirt and blue jeans made him look like the boy next door. He was staring down at the owner. “My niece has been waiting all day to get her book signed.” The man shifted and Libby spotted the young girl behind him. She had the most gorgeous deep red, curly hair Libby had ever seen. The girl held the man’s hand and was looking up at him with wide eyes.
“Then you should have come earlier.” The owner puffed out his chest.
This was not going to end well.
“It’s all right,” Libby called before the uncle responded. The three of them turned toward her. She beckoned the young girl closer. “Come over here.”
The owner huffed and moved over to the counter, but Libby paid no notice. It was the girl who captured her attention.
The girl’s smile was electric. She peeked up at her uncle and he nodded. She hurried over, clutching her book to her chest. In front of the table she paused as she looked between the pile of new books waiting to be purchased and the one in her hand. “Uncle Adrian already bought me the book,” she said.
“Then your Uncle Adrian was clever to get in early,” Libby said, reaching out her hand for the book with her sore right hand. As she closed it around the book, it cramped and the book fell to the ground. “Oops, sorry.” She wrapped the useless cold pack around her hand as the girl picked up the book.
“What did you do to your hand?” the girl asked as she placed the book in front of Libby.
“Oh, I hurt it last night,” Libby answered as she passed the girl the blank notebook. “Could you write your name down there for me?” She gazed up at the uncle. He was staring at her hand, his mouth slightly ajar. Libby shifted in her chair and his intense brown eyes met hers. Her heart jolted. He looked slightly horrified, though much friendlier than the cheetah last night.
Though he barely resembled the rock star, Libby was sure it was him. “Hello, Kent.”
The surprise was a shooting star across his face.
“You recognized him!” the girl said as she handed back the notebook. “No one does when he’s not in costume.”
Libby took the notebook and checked the name. “I met him last night, Kate.” But this man was nothing like the one she’d met yesterday.
He hesitated and then held out his hand. “When I’m not in costume I’m Adrian.”
Libby gingerly took it.
He held her hand gently, his touch warm and his eyes narrow as he examined it. A flutter started in her stomach as his thumb gently ran over the tender area. When he let go, his eyes asked the question
.
She nodded slightly – yes, he had done it last night – and turned her attention back to Kate.
“I was so upset when he told me he’d met you, he made sure we came today, even though it meant we had to leave rehearsal early. George was fit to be tied, wasn’t he, Uncle Ade?” Kate’s enthusiasm ran on like only a child’s could.
Adrian smiled down at his niece. “He sure was.”
Kate laughed. “He’s such a grump. Especially since Emily quit.”
He compressed his lips and hummed an agreement.
Obviously a sore topic.
“I see you’ve started reading the book,” Libby said to Kate, touching the bookmark. “Where are you up to?”
“The bit where they’ve arrived at the camp. I’m not sure whether they’re goodies or baddies.”
“Which way are you leaning?” Libby gripped the pen and wrote in the front of the book.
“Baddies,” Kate said decisively.
Libby raised her eyebrows. “Interesting.”
“Am I right?”
Libby handed back the book. “You’ll have to keep reading to find out.”
Kate gave a playful pout. “Awww.”
“I’d hate to ruin the story,” Libby said as she packed her pens away.
“Kate, why don’t you have a look around for a book to buy before we leave?” Adrian said.
Kate stuck her bottom lip further out. “I was chatting with Libby.”
“I need to talk to her about the show last night. You can come back and chat after you’ve found a book.”
Kate sighed. “All right.” She turned to Libby. “Please don’t go before I say goodbye.”
Charmed, Libby answered, “I won’t.”
When Kate had left, Adrian turned to Libby. “Are you finished now?”
“Yes.” She was dying for some painkillers and a coffee. She retrieved her bag from the ground.
Adrian shuffled from foot to foot. “I’m sorry about your hand. I didn’t get a chance to thank you last night for what you did.” There was no trace of the arrogant rock star in his demeanor now. If anything he was bashful, almost shy. The contrast was intriguing. This was a man Libby could see writing the song he sang last night.
Libby waved a hand. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You saved my career and my sanity.” He checked on Kate, who was kneeling down, browsing the books. “Can I buy you a coffee …” He shrugged uncomfortably. “As thanks?”
There was something unusual about the man standing in front of her. It wasn’t just that he was so unlike Kent Downer of last night. No, there was something about him that had Libby’s story sense tingling.
“Throw in some painkillers and you have a deal,” she said as she stood and placed her bag over her shoulder.
“There’s bound to be a drugstore around here.” His smile was uncertain as he gazed over his shoulder – it wasn’t the easy grin that had made his fans crazy in the studio last night, but Libby’s heart still sped up a little.
“There is,” she said. “I just need to say goodbye to the owner.”
“I’d better check how many books we’re coming home with. I really need to buy her an e-reader.”
“And miss the fun of lugging tons of books around?” Libby laughed. “I’ll see you at the counter.”
She walked over to the owner, who was standing with his arms crossed watching her. “Thank you for your hospitality today,” she said as she held out her hand.
“You’re welcome.” He shook her hand.
He was one of those men with an overly firm handshake and Libby winced. She extracted her hand as Adrian and Kate came over carrying a pile of books.
“You sure you can carry all of those, kiddo?” Adrian asked.
“Absolutely.” Kate dumped them with relish on the counter.
The owner’s demeanor softened slightly as he rang up the total. Adrian paid and gave Kate the bag of books. “Come on, I’ll buy you a cup of hot chocolate.”
As Libby fell in step beside them, Kate asked, “Is Libby coming too?”
“Sure. I owe her a cup of coffee.”
“Yes!” Kate whooped.
***
The coffee shop was relatively quiet and Adrian was glad. He didn’t know what had possessed him to ask Libby out for coffee. Yes, he was grateful she’d helped him last night, but he didn’t do coffee dates, especially not as Adrian. He never knew what to say.
Kate led them to a table at the back and took the seat by the wall. He sat next to her with Libby opposite. Seeing her hand, the guilt washed over him again. He’d been so caught up in his own fears he hadn’t realized how tightly he’d gripped her hand. He’d hurt her without thought and hadn’t even thanked her. He didn’t know how he could be so oblivious.
Perhaps hurting people was part of his genetic make-up.
Before he could examine the idea a waitress came over to take their order. Libby ordered a slice of pecan pie to go with her coffee.
After the waitress left they sat in silence for a moment. Adrian glanced at Libby, then at Kate. What did he say now? Sorry I was such a jerk last night. Sorry I didn’t notice your pain.
“Do you have a concert tonight?” she asked.
“Yes.” He checked his watch. “I’ve got a couple of hours before I have to be back at the venue.”
“Are you going, Kate?”
“Yep. George is going to look after me now Emily’s gone.”
“George, the grump?”
Adrian drew his brows together and then remembered Kate had called George a grump in the bookstore earlier. George had not been happy about Emily quitting. He and Kate shared a smile.
“George is my manager. He’s looking after Kate at the concert tonight, as Kate’s nanny had to leave us and I haven’t had a chance to find a new one.” He shouldn’t be telling her this. Usually when he met a woman he would stick to basic information, but then again, he didn’t often meet a woman as Adrian who also knew he was Kent Downer.
“It must be exciting to see the concert from backstage. I’ve always wanted to see what goes on behind the scenes,” Libby commented.
“Nuh-uh,” Kate said. “It gets boring after a while, which is why Emily used to look after me in the hotel while Uncle Ade worked.”
His anger at Emily surfaced. She’d really left them in the lurch. He couldn’t keep taking Kate to his concerts. Susan was right about that.
Suddenly Kate sat up straighter and grinned. “You could come tonight. Can’t she, Uncle Ade?” Kate looked up at her uncle, pleading. “It would make it more fun.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t.” Libby shook one hand in a no motion.
“Libby might have other plans,” Adrian said to Kate. He regarded Libby. Though he didn’t often invite people backstage, perhaps this was a way he could make up for his rudeness the night before. “You’re welcome to come if you want. It’s not very exciting.” He didn’t want to get her expectations up. Watching from backstage was different from being part of the audience.
“Please.” Kate drew out the word as if it had four syllables.
Libby blinked. Then she smiled, warm and genuine. “I’d love to.”
Kate clapped her hands. “Yay! I can show you backstage and then you can watch Uncle Ade perform. Then we can go to his dressing-room and play games. We have computer games, or board games or cards. And there’s lots of food. I never have dinner before a concert.”
Adrian chuckled. “Slow down there, Kate. You’re going to overwhelm her.” Kate was so much like her mother, Penny. Always positive and eager, ready for an adventure. He understood why Daniel had married Penny.
“Sorry.” Kate’s eyes flittered down, contrite, and then she looked up and grinned. “We’ll have so much fun.”
He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake inviting this woman he didn’t know backstage. But she already knew his secret – when he wasn’t in costume he was a plain, ordinary man with anxieties.
And it would make
Kate happy.
That was the main thing.
It was too late to worry about it now.
Maybe Kate was right. Maybe it would be fun.
***
Libby was ready when Adrian and Kate picked her up just after six. They were staying in the same hotel, though Libby’s room was several floors lower than theirs. Libby had checked in with her publicist, confirmed the details for her meeting tomorrow and taken a short nap before she had to get ready.
She hadn’t fussed with her appearance, not that she had many options from her suitcase – jeans, shirt and jacket. As she was going to spend the evening playing games with Kate, she only swiped on some lip gloss and mascara.
She couldn’t help the buzz of excitement at the thought of going to the concert, though. It had been years since she’d been to one – her budget didn’t run to such extravagant events.
Kate was positively bouncing with energy as they walked out to the car. She carried a backpack, which Libby assumed was filled with books and assorted games. Adrian was still dressed as himself, and none of Kent Downer’s fans waiting impatiently outside the hotel for a glimpse of their hero recognized him as they walked past.
Libby was amazed. No wonder he needed an alter ego.
Inside the waiting car she met George. She’d obviously been watching too many movies, because he was not what she was expecting. Instead of being older, slightly overweight, long-haired, chain-smoking and on the verge of a heart attack, he was young, tall, broad-shouldered, short-haired and wearing a suit. In fact he looked like he’d stepped out of one of the high-rise buildings next door. The one expectation he did meet was that he looked harassed.
His greeting to Libby was perfunctory. As he pulled out of the hotel, he said to Adrian, “After you left this afternoon, the shit hit the fan.”
Kate giggled.
“Shoot, ah, things stopped working,” George amended.
“What kind of things?”
“Fuse blew, lighting crashed to the ground and the damn –” He stopped himself and his gaze skimmed to Kate. “The support band came down with gastro.”
What Goes on Tour Page 3