She lifted an eyebrow at my question and her smile grew as she skipped her steps while still backward. It was terrifying. “Totally. No offense, but the place you picked was dullsville.”
Who used words like dullsville? I’d chosen a fine dining establishment two towns over, which Roxie, my shared assistant with Pierce, promised had the best steak in the state. You never went wrong with steak.
But apparently Loretta thought I had much to learn regarding the world and band management.
She’d also filled me in on her two cats, her mother’s opinion on the proper way to fold towels, and how you should hang them in a closet or bathroom for guests. Loretta thought the entire thing ridiculous, and I agreed with her mother—not the method with which she folded her towels but the fact there should be a standard.
I’d learned a lot on the plane ride, including information on the band and Loretta. She didn’t remind me of any woman I’d ever met in my life. I found her towel-folding preferences suspect but her knowledge regarding the band to be trustworthy. She spoke their language even if she wasn’t an official member.
“I just don’t know how you pass up steak,” I said for at least the third time but more like fifth.
Night fell on the town, but the streetlights illuminated the roadway enough that I saw her dramatic eye roll in response. “Everybody talks about this place. It’s the must-eat-at burger joint in Bear Creek. You can’t come to Bear Creek and not eat at The Sound of Burgers. It would be a sin.”
“A sin? I highly doubt a burger would get you into hell if you didn’t eat it.”
“Loosen the tie a bit, Reggie. You’re choking yourself.” She held the door open to the bar, and I stood beside her as the band members filed into the space. “I like my tie this way, thank you very much.”
And I did not appreciate her use of Reggie as a nickname. I worked hard to distance myself from the moniker, but knew if I called her on it, she’d only use it more.
Loretta laughed another one of her deep, full laughs and I smiled.
Everything in The Sound of Burgers was dark wood—from the paneling on the walls to the matching stained floors. Even the bars stools blended into the establishment. I cringed at first glance but schooled my features. It looked like a wild west saloon had a baby with a Colorado hunting lodge.
But the most disturbing piece in the entire establishment was what you found at the back of the restaurant—a short stage with a big TV screen and karaoke machine placed to the side. Now the name made more sense. Slightly.
Loretta and I followed her brother and his bandmates into the bar as they selected a table closer to the stage than I preferred. “You didn’t tell me about the karaoke,” I whispered to her accusingly.
“I know. I figured if I did you wouldn’t let us come.”
“Damn straight I wouldn’t.” No way would I be seen in a karaoke bar. I definitely did not do karaoke.
The five band members took their places around the table, filling the space and forcing Loretta and me to sit at the table next to them by ourselves. It was too intimate. Too close. Too much Loretta. Being so close made me uncomfortable, and I scratched at the skin under my tie.
“I said you need to loosen up a bit,” she said, reaching over and actually loosening my tie.
“You never touch a man’s tie,” I said, trying to fix it without a mirror.
Loretta’s hands stalled mine. “No, seriously keep it that way. It looks hot.”
My hand froze. “For real?”
“Dude, I have to be seen in public with you. I would not go out if you looked less than stellar. But remember that you are on duty this weekend, so no picking up girls.”
“Trust me, the last thing I’m going to do is pick up a woman in Bear Creek this weekend.” They might be famous for their festival, but the place was still named Bear Creek.
She cocked her hip to the side in a move I was learning was Loretta. How she did it while sitting was the real question.
The woman absolutely drove me insane. I prided myself on being put together—always having an answer and knowing what to do. I was a top corporate lawyer, for damn’s sake. People trusted me with their lives, but for unknown reasons this tiny speck of a woman who couldn’t weigh over 110 pounds made me feel dizzy. If I stood up from my high barstool, it would crash over and fall to the ground.
I didn’t like it.
Not at all.
“There are no menus at this fine establishment,” I said, laying the sarcasm on thick. For whatever reason, in the last few seconds, I decided having to spend time around Loretta made me cranky. It was supposed to be a nice relaxing trip to Colorado, but she was messing up my plans.
With one eyebrow ticked higher than the other, she flicked her wrist and grabbed a half sheet of laminated paper from the middle of the table and slipped it in my direction. “It’s a limited selection, and call me Rita.”
I’d never call her the preferred nickname. She wasn’t an alcoholic beverage.
