Page 38 of A Crazy Kind of Love
“Sure.”
He cleared his throat and waited a beat. “Are you seeing anyone?” His voice cracked halfway through the question.
“Not at the moment.” I pressed my lips together to hold in theYippeethat threatened to escape. I ventured a volley. “And I happen to know that you’re not, either.”
“What else do you know about me?” He’d lowered his voice, making me feel like we should be alone.
I got up and walked to the window as if it would give me privacy. I looked down at the street below and talked low. “That you read everything anyone writes to you on Twitter. And respond.”
“Easier than answering fan mail.”
“I suppose it would be.” I glanced back. Zion peered at me over the top of his computer.
Micah said, “Now you have to tell me something I don’t know about you.”
“Okay.” I leaned against the windowsill for a minute to think what I should share.
“Come on, Jo Jo. I can’t just look it up in the papers.”
I wracked my brain for something that felt safe enough. “I’m kind of obsessed with the theater.”
“Oh yeah? Like musicals or plays?”
“Musicals mostly. I own all the soundtracks and love the performances. Is that corny?”
“Uh-uh,” he said. “You’ve never seen my band perform, right?” It sort of bugged me that he switched the topic back to him without even listening to what I’d said.
“Nope.”
“Do me a favor. Don’t look anything up before you come tomorrow night. Promise?”
“Sure.” I didn’t know where to go with the conversation. It was too awkward to return to the topic of theater, but then he’d just effectively shut down any questions about his band.
He hesitated a second, too, then said, “God, I’m no good on the phone. I’m all discombobulated.”
I had to give him that. Still, I jabbed. “Hey, you’re the one who insisted on it.”
His laugh came across like a sigh. “I do like the sound of your voice.”
Down on the street, Andy marched head down toward the front of our building. I remembered I had a dozen things to finish if I wanted to leave early. “Hey, I’ve got to scoot. I’ll see you tonight?”
He quickly threw in. “Don’t forget to stop at the will call.”
“Oh, yeah. The backstage passes.”
“Right. And there will be a press pass.”
My budding hopes wilted. “Yup. I’ll be sure to bring my camera.”
Chapter 13
Knowing I’d be seeing Micah (and he’d be seeing me), I got home from work as soon as possible to kick off my street clothes, shower, shave, and change into something more alluring, hoping I might get him to see past the camera lens. I picked out a flirty skirt that would show off my long legs and settled on a loose-fitting blouse with a low neckline to flash a little cleavage. I tried on a pair of sling-back heels that would put me at eye level with Micah, but considering how long we’d be on our feet, I went with my Roman sandals. When I started fixing my makeup, Zion barged in on me and asked if he could borrow my mascara.
Neither Zion nor I wanted to sit through an opening act we’d never heard of, so we didn’t get to the venue until much later than the doors opened. Outside the theater, nobody waited in line or hovered near the doors. Loud but muted music pulsed through the walls. I could almost feel it more than hear it. The ticket windows were eerily quiet. The man behind the speak hole had no trouble finding our names and slid us an envelope withWilderwritten on it in black sharpie.
I peeked in to verify it held a pair of backstage passes and press credentials. “How cool is this?”
We handed our tickets to another portly man on a stool right inside the doors. He scanned them and handed them back. Another checker had me open my bag to make sure I wasn’t carrying a camera. Of course I had one, but I flashed him my press pass.
