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“Isabella.”
She took a step back at the mayor’s sharp reprimand. “I have plans to see to and a schedule to figure out.” She stalked to the door.
Sweet Jesus, the woman had an ass to go with everything else. Where the hell was the justice?
She stopped at the doorway, sunlight gilding her hair and sun-kissed shoulders. “Three shows, Mr. King. Plus the main stage.”
He barked out a laugh. Man, when was the last time he’d done that? “Deal, Iz.”
Her hand fisted at her side, but she kept on walking.
Four
“I’m so sorry about that.”
Logan shook his head. “I like her. She’ll make it work.” He didn’t know why he had that sudden faith, but he did. He recognized pride and spine. It was one helluva picture. A far too attractive one.
“Are you sure you want to play in here?” Sharon turned. “It’s filthy and run down.”
A sagging stage, lattice work that had been eaten by God knew what, stairs that would likely buckle under the weight of his drummer—and yet, all of it was his kind of paradise. They’d have to scale down their stage setup and just play. Like they used to when they took over the seaside joints in New Jersey and Maryland. When playing was fun.
“I want all of it just like this.” At Sharon’s horrified look, he laughed. “Well, with some structural help.”
A tall man with shaggy dark hair and a clean cut jaw came into the room.
“Hey.” Logan raised his voice. “Cam.”
The man holstered a hammer in his impressive tool belt and laughed. “Son of a bitch.” Cam reddened. “Pardon, ma’am.”
“It’s all right, Cameron. I’ve heard far worse.”
Cam grinned. “What the hell are you doing in here with us grunts?”
Logan held out his hand. “Gotta keep you in line.” They shook hands, a solid clasp before Logan drew him in for a slapping hug.
Cam dipped his thumb into his toolbelt. “It’s been a long time, man.”
“Yeah, I didn’t really get to stick around last year.” For more than one reason.
“Always the busy rock star. I get it.”
Logan’s smile fell away. “Doesn’t excuse how I handled last year.”
“Nah. Don’t sweat it. The crowd enjoyed the show.”
Too bad he’d nearly had a meltdown by the end of the set. He was determined not to let her ruin the show again this year. He had an army of friends lined up to make sure of it. And now he had this place to focus on. Finally, a stage that pulled at him again. “So, Mr. Fix-it, you know a good electrician?”
“I know one to call.”
Logan nodded to the stage. “The junction box is old and half corroded. Can you have someone you trust come out and bring it up to spec for a whole lot of joules?”
Cam tugged a small notebook out of his belt. “That’s a lot of rewiring and not much time to do it.”
“Any costs send through to Sharon and I’ll take care of it.”
He rocked back on his heels. “Whatever it costs?”
Logan nodded. “This place has good bones and I want to play here. Once it’s rewired, you can probably hire it out for some income for the town.”
