Page 58 of Just What She Needed

"It does a little from the outside." Sara pulled a purse onto her lap and stuck her hand in it. "But it's super nice inside. Ross says it's one of his favorite venues to play." From the purse she pulled a laminated rectangle and sat tapping it with her fingernails in poorly concealed impatience as the car made its way around the side of the building.

Rhett repressed the urge to close her eyes and slam her foot down on an imaginary brake pedal since the driver didn't bother to slow for the pedestrians. How they managed not to plow someone over was anyone's guess, and she was relieved when they stopped at a high gate blocking their progress.

Sara rolled down her window and waved the laminate at what Rhett assumed was a security guard. The man leaned down to inspect the pass and peer into the car's interior.

"I was wondering if you were going to make it back," he said to Sara.

"Traffic was a bitch," she replied. "But we're here."

The guard stepped back and waved them through the now-open gate. Sara leaned forward again.

"Just stop at the second bus, Owen," she told the driver. "We'll get out there."

After a moment, the car came to a halt beside a row of three identical buses. Well, Rhett supposed "bus" was a good enough term, but to her they looked more like enormous RVs. Painted a deep, iridescent purple, they had swirling designs of electric blue along their sides and front. Rhett was a little surprised that there was nothing on them to indicate they were Illicit's mode of transportation, but she kept her mouth shut. Even though she was sure she was going to end up looking like a fool before the evening was over, she didn't want to speak up and remove all doubt.

Sara exited the car, and climbed aboard the middle bus, and Rhett followed close behind. Once inside, she tried to keep her gawking to a minimum, but it was hard. Not that the interior was Liberace-worthy, but it was still pretty damn nice for a bus. Except for...

"Really?" she asked Sara. "Leopard print walls?"

"Cheesy as shit, isn't it?" Sara shook her head. "But they just rent 'em, they don't decorate them. Just drop your bag and coat there." She gestured to the cream-colored couch that stretched along one wall. "I'm not sure if you and Rhys will get the back, or you'll have to make do with the bunks. But it's only about three hours to New York anyway, so I don't guess it matters, does it? Now." She rubbed her hands together. "Let's see this Rock Star Girlfriend shirt of yours."

Rhett unzipped her bag and pulled out the long-sleeved shirt Lilith insisted she borrow. Made of tissue-thin cotton, it was a deep slate gray, but it was far from plain. The front sported a muted, abstract design in lighter gray, black and metallic silver. Rhett held it up for Sara's inspection.

"Seriously awesome." Sara clapped her hands. "Where'd you get it?"

"It's actually my daughter's," Rhett admitted. "She kind of made me bring it. Is that too lame?"

"Lord, I hope not." With a giggle, Sara waved a hand at her jeans. "I stole these puppies right out my daughter Paisley's closet."

"Paisley? Cool name." Biting her lip, Rhett looked at Lilith's shirt again. "You're sure this is okay? It's just that I...Sara, if I tell you something, can it stay just between us for now?"

"Sure." Face alight with curiosity, Sara sat in one of the two swivel chairs opposite the couch and crossed her legs. "What is it?"

"I've never been to a concert before," Rhett admitted with a sheepish grimace.

Curiosity turned to mild surprise as Sara blinked. "No shit? How come?"

Embarrassed, Rhett shrugged one shoulder. "I got married and had a baby when I was still pretty young, and we never could afford to do stuff like that."

Sara nodded. "I can dig that. But hey, if you're gonna get your concert cherry popped, Illicit's the way to do it. Especially since you're with the lead singer, right?"

"That's another thing. I don't want to embarrass Rhys."

"You won't, I promise. He wouldn't have brought you here if he didn't want you. Remember, girl, he doesn't do this, so he evidently thinks you're special, not embarrassing. Now." Sara slapped her thighs and stood. "Put on that gorgeous top, and let's get moving. We have to go by Ross's bus so I can leave my purse and change, and if we wait too much longer they're gonna send out a hunting party or something."

Reminded of the ticking clock, Rhett made fast work changing shirts. After grabbing her cell phone and a tube of lip gloss out of her purse, she followed Sara to the first bus. Sara changed her plain white T-shirt for a stunning black number with sequins down the arms and slipped her cell phone in her back pocket. As they were about to leave, she whirled back to her purse.

"Shit, can't forget these." Out came the laminated pass again, along with a second one which she handed to Rhett. "Put this on. Do not lose it."

Excitement mounting, Rhett examined it closely. It was about the size of an index card, with the shorter side on top where a long black lanyard was attached. The picture on it depicted a background of red and orange flames from which an angry-looking black car emerged, its headlights on high. Reclining on the hood was a voluptuous young woman with pouty lips and long blonde hair, her ample breasts spilling out of her low-cut shirt, and her denim shorts so abbreviated that they looked more like panties. The word ILLICIT was printed on the flames in the distinctive font the band used. Below the car in lighter type was printed EXCEEDING THE SPEED LIMIT - STAGE ACCESS - ACCESS ALL AREAS. A bar of white stretched along the bottom of the pass, and on this someone had written in what looked like red Sharpie, "BOS, 1, R.C." At the very corner was a small picture of Rhett herself, one Rhys had instructed her to email him.

"My first backstage pass," Rhett said as she slipped the lanyard over her head.

"Backstage pass, my ass." Sara dimpled. "That right there is the key to the kingdom, sweetie. See that 'access all areas' and that picture of you? That means you can go wherever you damn well please."

"Okay, this is blowing my mind a little. What's this at the bottom?"

Sara pulled her hair from under the lanyard of her own pass. "Well, B-O-S is for Boston, and R.C. is Rhys, obviously. The number one means that you're allowed to be with Rhys no matter what. Like, if he was to get pissy and decide he didn't want to talk to anyone, it wouldn't pertain to you."