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ChapterEighteen
CHARLIE
“Do you listen to country music?” Luna glances at me as we walk down a street in the heart of Nashville, side by side but not hand in hand.
Maybe I could convince her it’s best for our ruse if we’re touching at all times. If only she didn’t have a perfectly honed bullshit detector.
“Sometimes. If the mood strikes me.” My favorite genre changes practically moment to moment. “Safe to say I like all genres, but judge things song by song.”
Luna lets out a gusty sigh like my answer was not at all what she wanted to hear.
“You sound like a music nerd.”
“Is that a thing?”
“Of course. You can be a nerd about anything. My roommate in college was a mushroom nerd. She would pull over on the side of the road if she saw a decaying log she thought looked promising.”
“Ooh, I have a fun mushroom mind teaser.”
Her brows scrunch. “What does that mean?”
“Get this.” I shift, walking backward, able to watch Luna’s face as I talk. “People eat dead mushrooms, and mushrooms eat dead people.” I mime a bomb going off near my temples. “Just blew your mind, right?”
“Oh, no.” Luna’s eyes are wide as she shakes her head. “You’re a dorky dad too. And you don’t even have kids.”
“Never too early to start with dad jokes.” I settle back into her pace beside her. “Do you want me to keep the dorkiness on the DL or something?” The idea has me shoving my hands in my pockets so she doesn’t see the anxious way I crack my knuckles. The pops still sound through the material, just muffled.
Working as a salesperson, I know how to adjust the way I portray myself to make the people around me comfortable. I can play the blandly normal non-dork with a little code-switching, but I’d hoped Luna wouldn’t mind. Shutting down key parts of a personality isn’t the best way to build a relationship.
“Dork it up. Whatever. It’s the music nerd I’m worried about.” Luna stops then, grabbing my forearm. “Have you heard of Violet Bluefield?”
“Oh, yeah! Her voice is gorgeous. And the way she plays the banjo could make the snobbiest classical fan fall in love with the instrument.”
Luna squeezes her eyes shut as if in pain. I shut up.
When she blinks them open again, I’m distracted by how warm the dark brown of her irises are. I want to sink into my wife’s gaze. My body leans toward her until I have the presence of mind to stop myself. Luckily, there’s a decent distance I would have to cross to get to her.
“Violet Bluefield is my client.”
I work to remember what we were just talking about. Then the facts all resurface.
“Really? That’s dope! I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I married a woman rubbing shoulders with A-listers. You need me to be your arm candy on the red carpet? I’m happy to hold your purse. But only if it matches my tie. We’ll need to color coordinate.”
Luna glares, but her lips curl in a reluctant smile.
Success.
“You’re ridiculous. And no, I don’t walk red carpets.” The amusement in her expression fades away, and I get a grip on my natural tendency to joke when I sense she has something important to tell me.
“I’ve worked hard to develop good relationships with my clients. In my business, it’s all about reputation. Most of the people who hire me learn about my services through word of mouth. If I get a bad mark against my name, I’m done.”
Making sure she knows I’m serious, I keep my voice steady, focus on her. “I’d never want to mess your work up, Luna.”
She stares deeper into my eyes. “I get that. But this is more than just not insulting people.” Luna steps closer, lowering her voice. “One common reason these women hire me is because they’ve had a bad interaction with a fan. They’re in the public eye, and people stop respecting boundaries. They have to fight for personal space. I can’t bring someone around them who threatens that. Do you understand?”
After traveling with my mom, I probably have a better idea than most.
“Of course. I swear I will be respectful to anyone you introduce me to, famous or not.” I raise my palm as if swearing in court. “And I will take special consideration with your clients. I promise.”
