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Every DEFCON alarm hardwired from past experience went off at once, blaring with enough decibels to nearly make her outwardly wince. As lead-ins went, it was a smooth one, but she’d learned the hard way what trusting smooth talkers earned you. Especially the hot ones. “How exactly is it you know Vic, but he doesn’t know you? And what do you mean, I know music?”
“I know Vic because—bad business man or not—he books good bands, and I make it my business to keep an eye out for good music in and around Texas. I know music because I love it. Have my whole life.”
“You make it your business why?”
His expression shifted. Narrowed with a shrewdness that made her feel as though he’d easily peeled away all her armor and studied the raw woman underneath. “You’re a guarded woman, Elizabeth. Why is that?”
“No one calls me Elizabeth. It doesn’t fit. Never has.”
One look. Ruthless determination behind his eyes and an uncompromising firmness to his lips. “It fits you perfectly. You’re just afraid to wear it.” He held her gaze a second longer as if to make sure his words sank in, then kept going. “Vic’s known for the move he tried to make with you. When I overheard him trying it tonight and heard the frustration in your voice, I moved in because bullies piss me off.”
“I would’ve handled it.”
“Sure, you would’ve. But you hate doing it. I knew it the second you stopped looking at me and shifted your attention to him. Plus, you handling it would’ve robbed me of the chance to hand him his ass.”
He slid one hand in his pocket and pulled out a slim case made of a fine camel-colored leather. He slid a business card free. “I’m a businessman. I’ve got fingers in more industries than even I can sometimes keep track of, but the one that interests me most is music because it’s what I love. I’ve watched you and your band for a while, and I think you’ve got tremendous talent. The trick to making the most of it is maximizing the things you do well and surrounding yourself with people who can better handle the things you can’t.” He handed over the card, his stare so potent the mere act of breathing seemed impossible. “Think about it. If you decide you’re willing to lower the drawbridge enough to talk, this is how to reach me.”
With a grin bordering on smug, he dipped his chin and ambled toward the exit with the same confident air he’d exuded from the second she’d laid eyes on him.
What just happened?
The single thought whipped round and round in her head, propelled by a frustrating mix of want, appreciation and fury that made absolutely no sense. She’d have probably stood there forever if the sound of footsteps coming from behind her and Rex’s smoker-raspy voice didn’t prod her out of her trance. “Hey, kiddo. Who was that?”
She faced her near-lifelong friend, not bothering to hide what was likely a dumbfounded expression. With his gray hair well past his chin, faded Nirvana tee and even more faded jeans, Rex was the antithesis of the man who’d just walked away. More rugged than GQ. But just laying eyes on his tired mug helped her surface in reality and draw a decent breath. She glanced at the card pinched tightly between her fingers then back at the door. “I have no idea. But you can bet your ass I’m going to find out.”
