I jump, spinning so fast I nearly trip. Turning toward the back of the stage, I seeher. A tiny-framed woman, sitting on the end of the stairs, just watching me, and she is clapping.
What’s more… she’s wearing a giraffe onesie.
In Phoenix.
In July.
What the fuck?
She keeps clapping like she’s genuinely impressed. I glance around, trying to see what she’s looking at, but there’s nothing else. Just me, and the gear I organized.
I stare back, unsure.
Her bright smile doesn’t fade.
“You did amazing,” she calls out.
“Uhh… what?”
She gestures toward the neatly organized equipment, then smiles again, even brighter, if that’s possible.
She’s unnerving.
Far too pretty.
And way too old to be wearing a giraffe onesie.
What is with that?
“All that heavy lifting, and not to mention the sorting… I never would have thought to do that. It’s so… organized. It’s much better than how we were doing it.”
I raise a brow, glancing around like I’m about to be Punk’d, but nope it’s still just me and the giraffe onesie.
I look back at her. “When you say howwewere doing it, you mean…”
She hops down from the stage and strolls toward me. The giraffe onesie looks almost too big for her, swishing around her legs as she walks. Her cute button nose scrunches slightly, that dazzling smile still stuck on her face. It’s confusing. She looks like a kid, but the woman underneath that ridiculous outfit is definitely all adult.
She’s peculiar, whoever she is.
“Us. The band,” she says, waving her hands in loose circles. “We’re not a very organized bunch. Butyouseem to know what you’re doing, and that’s great. You can keep us in line, right?”
“You’re with the band?”
She giggles, a sound that’s both husky and delicate, my cock twitches in response.
Jesus.
I tense, hating the way my body is reacting to her like it’s got a mind of its own.
“Sure am. I’m Effa… that’s short for Effervescent. You know, like the bubbles that make people happy.” She beams, lifting her hands and twinkling her fingers like she’s doing spirit fingers from that cheerleader movie. “I like to be the bright light in people’s lives. Lift people up when they’re feeling down. I’m the sparkle, the pizzazz, if you will.”
A lump forms in my throat as I stare at her, not sure if she’s joking. But her smile is sincere, and the calmness in her gaze tells me she’s deadly serious.
“Wow. That’s, uh… great?” I say, more question than statement.
She nods and extends her hand. “Nice to meet you, I’ve heard great things. I’m assuming you’re Kaden? Our new lighting director?”
I take her hand, tiny and warm, and it practically disappears in mine. The minute our skin touches, a jolt shoots up my arm, and it throws me off so much that I forget to speak for a moment. Looking back up, I manage a half-smile. “Mercs. Everyone calls me Mercs.”
