Hi, Mom and Dad!No. She stopped short of embarrassing herself.
“He’s in a meet and greet, but I’ll show you to his dressing room,” Tyler said.
“We don’t want to be a nuisance.” Pamela’s eyes sparkled like her son’s. “We’re just happy to be invited.”
That was my idea, Pamela.
“Don’t be silly.” Tyler opened his door. “Help yourself to whatever you want. I’ll let him know you’re here.”
Pamela smiled. “Thank you, Tyler.”
“No problem . . . I hope you had a great birthday!”
Brownie points.
A few minutes later Tyler entered the green room and pushed her way through the crowd. Cary sat at the end of a long table, signing posters and autographs.
“Sorry to bother you,” she said, not really meaning it.
He looked up from signing his name with a Sharpie. “You’re hardly a bother.”
She bit her bottom lip, trying not to smile. “Your parents are here. I showed them to your dressing room.”
“Thanks for doing that.”
“Don’t mention it.” The line behind the table was a hundred people deep. “I know you’re busy, so I guess I’ll see you later?”
Cary continued signing autographs and posing for selfies. “Sounds good.”
Sounds good? You practically begged me to come here.
Maybe he was just being polite last night, but why pay all that attention to her when he didn’t have to? Ugh. She’d never understand men as long as she lived and if there was an afterlife.
The house lights dimmed and the audience chanted, “Cary! Cary!”
Tyler folded her coat over her arms and watched from the backstage area.
The first song in his set was one of her favorites, and she danced to the beat until Cary turned to the side of the stage and played his guitar right in front of her. She stopped mid-dance and laughed, embarrassed. He laughed, too, before turning back to the crowd, holding out the microphone, and making them sing the verse. He had a commanding stage presence, like it was second nature. The lyrics made her body yearn for him, desperate for his affection.
Was it possible that her sister was right? He’d written some of the most heart-wrenching love songs she’d ever heard. If he’d felt those things, even half of those things, she was in trouble—the biggest kind.
Dammit.
Two songs turned into five before she checked the time on her phone: 7:35.
She had to go.
When Tyler arrived at the casino, she went straight to the dressing room and pushed open the door. For a split second she braced herself, half expecting a flood of balloons spelling out Happy Birthday.
But the room was exactly as she’d left it. Thank god for small miracles.
She looked around the empty room, bummed that she wouldn’t be seeing Cary later. She took a deep breath and exhaled through her mouth.
Happy fucking birthday.
Hours later, after most of the bands had played, Tyler finally handed off her babysitting duties to the casino’s stage manager—just before he lost his patience.
Besides, it was still her birthday for another hour, and it was time for a drink. Or two.
