One by one his band arrived. What the hell?
So much for their afternoon with a stylist.
Colton’s attire suggested he’d been to a dojo for training, Jake’s jeans and T-shirt had survived at least four different presidents, Michael appeared ready to mow the lawn—in slept-in clothes—and Tessa….
“What are you wearing?” A filmy, gauzy creation floated around her slender frame. She stood out as a rose among thorns.
“I spent the morning at the Ren Faire and got back a little late. Sorry. This is my fairy costume.”
“You’re going to play in that?”
“At least I left the wings in my car.” A small favor.
Okay. Whatever. They planned to record, not film. “Let’s do this.”
Lightning struck twice, or rather, the magic of their practice crackled within the room. Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous.
Kids at Christmas didn’t grin as broadly as Lucas when he emerged from the control booth. “Damn, boy! Whatever’s gotten into you, I like it.”
Now probably wasn’t the time to mention Seb’s name. “What? You doubted me?”
Lucas slapped Henri on the back. “Not for a minute.” His smile fell. “It’s hard to pitch an album if the band doesn’t have a name.”
Henri took in his band: lanky, T-shirted Michael leaning down to talk to a living, breathing, fairy maiden, while blast-from-the-past Jake stared over a white-clad shoulder at something Colton pecked out on the keyboard. Henri was crazy as hell if he thought this would work. Too bad Crazy as Hell was already taken as a band name. Alternate Reality?
Maybe he should leave the decision making to someone else. “Tessa, if you had to label us with one word, what would it be?”
She tilted her head to the side, favoring each band member with a lopsided smile. “Either ‘mismatched’ or ‘delusional.’ Take your pick.”
Mismatched? Delusional? Henri rolled the words around inside his head and broke out in a grin. Oh hell yeah. “How about both? We’re Mismatched Delusions.”
