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“I’m told you’re the lead singer here tonight.”
“Yes, ma’am. Luke Stone.”
“I’m Lori Jackson. Just so you’re aware, Mr. Stone, I expect this party to go off without a hitch. I’ve invited influential guests who’ve requested a real Nashville sounding country western band. You’re to give them the music they demanded. I’ve never heard you sing nor am I a particular fan of the twang. So don’t disappoint.”
“No, ma’am.” He stared down into her face… his portraying no emotion whatsoever. He saw her eyes widen, then interest begin to form. He’d seen that hungry look a million times, and it disgusted him. Before she could add anything, he excused himself and headed for the stage where the others waited.
Matt sidled over. “Is that our hostess?”
“Yep. Purchased boobs and fake hair extensions all wrapped up in an expensive package.”
Matt laughed. “Christ, bro. Let’s rock this place tonight and then get the hell away from here. Have you seen all the security? It’s pretty much a viper’s nest.”
Chapter Thirty-eight
Honey couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw Luke and his band setting up on the stage. In fact, she had to go closer to be sure. Then he turned to the light, and the tall good-looker couldn’t be mistaken.
With her stomach slamming into her throat, she had to clench her hands and give her silly head a good talking to. He’s not yours so smarten up. Peeking once more, she noticed that the boys had made some changes.
Tonight, they’d chosen to wear blue jean shirts with low, hip-hugging denims, wide brown belts with the famous Nudie buckles and of course the expected cowboy boots they always wore onstage. All the guys looked great, but Luke styled the outfit like a star. The lone female in the group had gone country with her short, fringed dress that sparkled with every move.
Unable to confront the sexy demon – shyness overriding common sense – she pretended not to have seen him. Instead, she’d stayed busy with the many chores expected of the workers. A while later when she heard his voice close by, her heart ramped up again. Settling it down to its regular rhythm would take time. It made acting normal impossible.
Expecting sweet talk from the neglector, he shocked her with his inquisitive opening question about her working as a waitress. Here she’d been mooning over the idiot, and he had to go and spoil it. Pissed at the treatment, she came back at him with sarcasm, happy to see that her spine had shown up.
Of course, he’d talked his way around her mood, and his promised “soon” had her legs going weak. When Mel interrupted and asked for help putting the extra boxes in the office, she loved his hand reaching behind her back to guide her in front of him. The old-world gesture of a gentleman who respected his woman gave her goosebumps, making her wish they were alone.
Soon, they were all carrying boxes into the house and down the hall to the closest room off of the patio with its own door leading outside. From the corner of her eye, she saw Luke wander to where the modern, glass-topped desk sat. He picked up a framed photo and the move shocked her. Not expecting this kind of behavior from the man who seemed so private himself, it caught her attention.
When he casually turned to look at the books that were on the bookcase behind – obviously there as a decoration because she could never imagine the owner as a reader of the classics – she had to remind herself that she really didn’t know the man… did she? But she would. Those words popped into her mind and made her feel better.
Once all the cases and extra equipment had been stored, they headed back to where she still had one more tray of table decorations to place. He followed close behind, and she sensed he wanted to talk more.
Before they could have a decent conversation, she saw the queen herself appear, wearing a frown at seeing one of her workers chatting rather than carrying on with her duties.
Honey knew that demanding stare of a boss who’s expectation of her employees was mainly groveling. Hadn’t Mrs. Jackson confronted the caterers when they first arrived, telling them about their duties, and what she required? A few sentences spoken in a hard tone without a hint of leeway, and she’d put them all in their place… no one had any doubts that she meant to be obeyed.
Scurrying away rather than getting Luke into trouble, she pretended to be busy while eavesdropping on their conversation. It tickled her to see Luke acting in the same way she’d watched him act with many of the customers at Nudies. Polite yet not particularly interested… and in this case not overly impressed.
Placing the last flower arrangement, she hustled back to the large, white-covered buffet where the others from her catering company were beginning to set up the food trays. Seeing as how some guests had begun to arrive, she snaked her way to Mel and whispered, “It’s party time.”
“Yeah. Good luck.” Mel waved her finger warningly. “And, Honey, no spilling drinks on guys with wandering hands. You almost got fired the last time.”
“Promise. I’ll behave… if they do.”
Mel’s dismayed groan made her grin as she stepped out with her first tray of drinks, and the night began.
Within a short time, Luke and the gang started their music, and the atmosphere became electric. Soon, the band had a group forming in front of the stage, swaying, and clapping in time to the beat. Luke’s husky, captivating voice rang out, and he hit notes she hadn’t known he could. They must have been practicing for this night because they’d never played better.
Most of his songs had a faster dance rhythm but every once in a while, he’d slow things down and the partiers loved it. When Cissy or Matt stepped forward for their solos the attention would wane until Luke returned to the mic. The others performed best as his background musicians, and when Cissy picked up the fiddle, making the instrument purr and then howl, the crowd went mad. Singing in a duet, her skills were beyond doubt, yet it was Luke who stole the show.
At one point, even the hostess joined the revelers. To Honey it seemed weird to see so many of the guests formally dressed yet wearing fancy cowboy boots as their one capitulation to the country vibe. It made her laugh when she saw one of the gents in a tux and sporting that type of footwear. When he came over to her for another drink, she gave in to his smiling ways and found herself enjoying his good humor. The older man had no specific agenda she could see other than him being in an uplifting mood and sharing.
“Honey, I gotta tell you, I sure love this music.”
Smiling, she replied cheekily, “I do too, and the name actually is Honey.”
“Seriously?”
