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“I nominate Denver,” Neal shot back. “Everyone listens to the lead singer. No one takes a call from the bassist. Besides, the idea is Denver’s baby.”
“I’m not calling him,” Denver said. “I’m a creative guy, not a numbers guy. He’ll ask for numbers, and I’ll sound like an idiot. We need someone believable to call him.”
“To call who?”
We turned toward the voice in the doorway of the green room. A woman stood there—tall, stately, her blond hair tied into a neat twist at the back of her neck. She was fortyish, good-looking, wearing a classy knee-length sleeveless dress and a backstage pass around her neck. She was holding something wrapped in festive silvery wrapping paper crooked in one arm.
We all stared at her, surprised.
“Hi,” Neal said, covering his surprise with politeness. “Who are you?”
The woman’s gaze swept over us. Denver and I were sprawled on the sofa, Neal was standing with his bottle of water, and Stone had perched his ass on a table against the wall. She really was a good-looking woman, if you liked classy, expensive types, and she didn’t seem intimidated by us in the slightest. Her features were vaguely familiar, though I had no idea why.
“Hi,” she said with the easy confidence of a woman who has had men fall at her feet all her life. “My name is Angie Miller-Gold. I’m your new agent.”
We looked at each other and exchanged a glance. Then Denver got to his feet and rounded the sofa. “Miller-Gold,” he said, repeating her last name. “You’re Miller’s daughter?”
“I am,” Angie said.
Denver held out his hand and smiled. “Denver Gilchrist. Nice to meet you.”
Most women turned into butter when Denny turned his smile on them like that. He knew exactly what he was doing. Angie Miller-Gold was almost immune, but not quite. She smiled politely, but when she shook his hand I saw her shoulders soften from their tight posture.
“It’s nice to meet you,” she said.
“We didn’t know who the agency would send,” Denver said. He motioned for her to come into the room, and behind her shoulder, he looked at the rest of us and shrugged.I guess we go with it,his gesture said.
We all stood and introduced ourselves. “Do I know you from somewhere?” I asked her when I shook her hand.
“We’ve never met,” she said, still polite and businesslike. “I’m sure I’d remember.” She looked around at us. “I know this is a surprise. My father didn’t run his business in a very organized manner. You probably noticed that over the years. He was eccentric, and we weren’t all that close. Still, I’d like to assure you that I’m ready to take over.”
“You’re already working as an agent?” Neal asked.
“I am, though I represent models,” was the reply. “I haven’t worked in the music business, but I’m ready to learn. The Road Kings—well, you were my father’s only remaining client. He’d let his roster dwindle over the years, and since you guys broke up, my father was pretty much retired until you took on this latest tour.”
“You’re a modeling agent?” I asked, my brain working. I snapped my fingers. “Wait. You’re a model. That’s where I’ve seen you, right?”
Angie’s cheekbones flushed slightly. “I’m flattered. Yes, I used to model. I retired quite a while ago to be an agent instead.”
“Sports Illustratedswimsuit issue,” Stone said. “Twenty-one years ago—no, twenty-two.”
We all looked at him.
“What?” Stone looked around at us. “I’m the only one who got that magazine when he was a teenager? Give me a break.”
I ran a hand through my hair. “I might have bought it once or twice,” I admitted.
Neal nodded. “Yeah, it rings a bell. Red bathing suit, right?”
“Sorry,” Denver said. “These guys are animals.”
Angie shook her head. “Don’t be sorry. It doesn’t embarrass me at all.” She looked at Stone. “Yes, theSports Illustratedswimsuit issue.” She turned to Neal. “Yes, the red bathing suit. The neckline plunged all the way down to my belly button, and my lipstick matched it exactly. I was twenty when I did that shoot, and it made my career. I’m still proud of it. But after I got married and had a daughter, I stopped modeling to become an agent. I assure you, I’m very experienced.”
“But not with bands,” I said.
The look she gave me was cool and confident. “Try me.”
I found myself smiling.Brit would like this woman,I thought.
