“I’ve got to get back to the mob. Don’t let us overwhelm you. Kirk said you wanted to know more about the music festival. Gina just arrived. Come meet her. You two can talk about the festival. She’ll love a fresh ear, you know.”
Angelica and Gina clicked instantly. They both loved music, though different forms. Angelica knew she could learn a lot from her. When Gina discovered she was giving lessons to two children, she eagerly asked if Angelica would consider giving more. Was the fiddle the only thing she could teach? What was she charging?
Before she could answer, Kirk walked up.
“You two eating?” he asked. He’d put on his shirt and taken off his cap.
Angelica looked around. Everyone had a plate, either eating or still in line along the trestle table, piling food on.
“Hey, Kirk. You’re looking good,” Gina said, giving him a hug.
He grinned at Gina.
“Don’t let your husband hear you flirting with me, I don’t want to have to fend him off.”
She laughed.
“It’ll be our secret. I’m so happy to meet Angelica. She said you’re helping her get acquainted around town.”
“Standing in for Webb Francis. He’ll take over once he’s back.”
Angelica refused to let her smile wobble, but the comment hurt. She’d thought he’d done more than stand in for the older man.
Rising, she avoided Kirk’s eyes and headed for the table.
“It looks like a feast,” she said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.
She needed to remember why she was here. It wasn’t to flirt with Kirk Devon.
He stood behind her in line.
“Meet everybody?” he asked as she added some salad to her plate.
“Yes, thank you.”
She moved on to one of the casseroles.
“You going to play in the festival?”
“Probably not.”
She moved on, wishing someone would engage Kirk in conversation. She didn’t want him to feel he had to stick with her.
“Why not?”
“My type of music isn’t really what people down here want to hear.”
“Music’s music,” he murmured.
She glanced at his plate. It looked as if it held enough food to feed a family of four.
“Are you going to eat all that?” she asked, startled.
Compared to his plate, hers looked like it belonged to an anorexic.
“You going to eat only that?” he countered. “You’re going to hurt some feelings if you don’t have a helping of most everything.”
She blinked, then began taking a spoonful from each dish. “Better?”
