“Where are they?” Cary swept a long piece of hair back into place. “The band. What city are they in?”
“Fredericton.” She held her thumbs in a ready position, waiting to hear back from Kim.
“Well, today’s your lucky day.”
She tried to muster a grin but couldn’t. She didn’t have a knack for bullshitting unless it was with Sebastien. “To tell you the truth it didn’t start off that great.”
“Sabian cymbals is an hour away from Fredericton.” Cary powered on his phone. “I’ll text Vegas.” He placed his hand on her shoulder, a sweet and gentle gesture that didn’t go unnoticed. “He’ll sort it out.”
“Thanks, but I think I can get a loaner.”
It wasn’t in her nature to ask for help. Plus, as a woman in the music industry you had to be tough as hell, work twice as hard, and do everything yourself.
“I know the headliner’s manager,” she added. “But he’s kind of hard to deal with.”
Cary’s phone lit up and he glanced at his screen. “See?” He moved his chair closer. “It’s already taken care of.”
“Really?” She began texting frantically. “You saved my life! And Kim’s.” A few seconds later she drew in a breath, then exhaled through her nostrils. “Thank you.”
“No worries.” He wrung his hands together. “So, will you be in Winnipeg for the home opener?”
“I’ll be in Winnipeg for my family’s benefit concert.” She dumped the red container of truffle popcorn onto her plate and picked out the kernels. The container looked like the cups from Josh’s house, but this one was made of metal and probably not used for beer pong.
“Benefit?” His eyes softened. “What’s the cause?”
“Cancer.”
A silent moment hung between them—weighted, still—before she pushed back her chair and reached for her bag.
“Excuse me,” she said quietly. “I have to use the restroom.”
It probably looked like she was about to pee her pants, but that wasn’t it at all. She hated talking about her mom and didn’t want anyone’s pity. Michelle Robertson had died of cancer when Tyler was two, and the benefit concert they held every year was in her honor.
“Of course.” Cary stood like a gentleman as she passed him.
A short while later she returned with a fresh topknot and lipstick.
Cary stood again. “Is everything okay?”
She nodded. “What’s next for you, other than touring?”
“I’ve been writing—co-writing—trying to get another hit. You?”
“Same,” she murmured, taking her seat. “I mean working, not writing. I’m scouting bands on TikTok and YouTube.”
“YouTube?” He sounded confused.
“I’m looking for live footage. There’s nothing worse than hearing a great song, then finding out they can’t play it without Pro Tools.” She sighed, dropping her shoulders. “There’s nothing, other than my indie band and that girl band from Toronto.”
“Well, I’ll let you know if I hear anything.” He combed back his hair with his fingers. “So, will I see you in Winnipeg?”
“If you stay and watch the hockey game,” she said, tilting her head slightly. “I’ll explainthe rules.”
It was subtle, a low-stakes way to test the waters. Less terrifying than asking him out and getting shot down.
“It’s more fun if you know them,” she added.
Cary’s brow creased like an accordion. “I don’t like rules.”
