She reached for her phone.
“Hello, Practical Posies.This is Addison, how can I help you?”
“I just got a delivery and there is no name on the card.I have no idea who it’s from, and I was wondering if you could tell me.”
Harper provided the pertinent delivery details and after a few moments on hold, Addison picked up again.
“I’m sorry, but there was no name given to us for the card, and we aren’t allowed to give out personal information.”
Harper put down the phone.She was in trouble.Real trouble.
***
“You look about as good as I feel, brother.”Dred sat on the sofa in the studio makeup area, head in his hands, dark hair covering his face, and a large bottle of water between his feet.
Trent collapsed down next to him, pulling his sunglasses off and tucking them into his jacket pocket.“I swear I can still taste tequila.”He took another swig of his coffee.Not as strong as he liked it, but the best he could do.
Dred sat back up.“Christ, man, the world is still fucking spinning.”
If Trent weren’t so hungover, he would have protested all the makeup they were putting on him.That brown goop, foundation or whatever they called it.Good thing Cujo wasn’t here to witness his humiliation.
“Let’s go rock this shit,” Dred said as they were guided to the studio.They were met by an officious-looking woman, her hair in a tight bun and wearing bizarre, pointy glasses.
“Okay guys, I’m Pam.I need the two of you to sit in the chairs over there and just talk to each other.”She waved her clipboard in the general direction of two chairs.“Just click your microphones on.”
Trent looked around for the microphone.Dred reached around him and clicked something on the little black thing attached to the back of his jeans.
“You’d better buy me dinner if you wanna be getting that close,” Trent said, laughing as Dred pulled away.
“You kidding me?Don’t you know about rock stars?We can get any ass we want for free.”
“Not this one you couldn’t.This is a class ass.I’d need at least a visit to Olive Garden before I put out.”
“Hooters?”
“Deal.”
They killed fifteen minutes ripping on each other, much to the amusement of the sound crew.
“Okay, Trent, Dred.Thanks for that.”Pam was back, looking slightly more harassed than the last time they’d seen her.“We have some tattooers set up for you to—”
“Tattoo artists,” Trent corrected.
“Sorry,” Pam said.“Tattoo artistsset up for you to work with to see how you would interact with the contestants.”
It was a total mixed bag.A kid, Johnno, who didn’t look much older than twenty and an older guy, Buck, who had been tattooing most of his life.A woman, Daisy, who reminded him so much of Lia it was uncanny.
“You don’t need to change from your liner to your shader if you’re doing such a small touch-up on the line there.Just turn it sideways so the needles line up straight, like this,” Trent instructed, motioning for Daisy to move out of her chair so he could sit.He picked up the shader to show her what he meant.
“Need to win a tattoo parlor, buddy?”Dred laughed at him for sitting in the contestant’s chair.
“Come over and learn something so you can stop with all the ‘That looks deadly, man’ crap you’ve been spouting all afternoon.”
One face wash with industrial-strength soap and a few hours later, he was back with Michael.
“You did awesome today.I’m really pleased with what I saw.We gotta put the tapes in front of our target audience, but you brought just the kind of vibe to the set that we hoped you would.We managed to get everything we need today, so we don’t need you to come in again tomorrow.Safe trip back, Trent.I have a feeling I’ll be back in touch with very good news soon.”
Thankful that Michael’s assistant had been able to get him onto the earlier flight the next morning, Trent turned down Dred’s invite for another night of drinking and opted for an early night at the hotel.Half asleep, his thoughts drifted to Harper.
