"You're a real shithead sometimes."
"Yeah, but the fans love me. You gonna help, or you gonna sit there and whine?"
Mikey rubbed a hand over his scalp. "Could take a year or two off," he grumbled. "You work too hard."
"Sweet of you to worry, Grandmama, but who's paying the crew and band if I take a year or two off? Like my crew. Like my band. And I'm fixin' to find my songs again. You in, or you out?"
Mikey grunted and grabbed a notebook. "Let's do this. So we can go home."
Sounded good to Will.
WORD SPREAD FAST that Billy Brenton had settled in Bliss for a month. Even in Willow Glen, it was all people were talking about.
Monday, Lindsey ignored it. Or tried to. Should've been easy with all the insanity at her office. One client's soon-to-be ex had gone off the rails and refused to return the kids after his weekend with them. Another client had dropped by with incriminating photographs that would invoke the infidelity clause in her prenup. Lindsey didn't stumble home until almost nine.
Tuesday, she had to wear her growly baby-eater face at two final hearings, and then returned to her office to find her paralegal and her assistant bent over a computer, watching episodes of BillyVision.
She snapped at them to get back to work, then slammed her office door.
And she admitted defeat.
She wore smiley face panties as a personal reminder that life was what you made it. That she could choose to make a positive difference with her attitude and her demeanor despite the ugly parts of her job. But this week, they weren't working, and it didn't take a psychic anti-matchmaker to know why.
She needed to talk to someone. Preferably Mom. But since Mom wasn't an option, Lindsey texted Nat to see if she was free tonight.
Nat had plans-she'd gotten a babysitter so she could hang out at Suckers while CJ worked-but she told Lindsey to come on over and join her. An hour after Lindsey left the office Tuesday, she pushed through the door of the funky bar. Twitter was reporting that Billy Brenton was due to crash Melodies Karaoke Bar any moment now, so Lindsey settled into her normal seat at the steel semicircle bar in the center of the room and breathed in the peace while she waited for Nat.
She didn't have to order. As soon as she claimed a red leather bar stool, CJ appeared with a glass of white zin. "Long day?"
"There are four more soon-to-be single people in the world tonight." She put her coat on the stool to her left and her purse on the stool to her right. The bar wasn't too crowded, and Lindsey sipped on her wine and watched the other patrons while she waited for Nat.
One in particular caught her eye at a far booth. He had his dark hair dropped into his hands, two empty beer glasses before him, and a plate of nachos nearly untouched. Mostly unremarkable on its own, but she recognized him, and she knew what had him hanging his head over his beer.
CJ circled back with a bowl of mixed nuts for her. She slid her credit card and an envelope with a gift card for Bliss's taxi service across the bar. "The guy in the Bliss Bachelors jersey?" She nodded subtly toward the booth. "His drinks are on me."
"Your client?"
"Leave my name out of it, would you?"
CJ grinned and took the credit card and taxi certificate. "Reamed him, huh?"
Her boss had. And in Lindsey's opinion, the guy had gotten the short end of the stick. But she wasn't paid to have feelings. She was paid to get the best settlements for her clients. So she did, and sometimes she watched from the sidelines when her colleagues did the same.
But what was right by law wasn't always what was fair in her gut. And though she was glad for all the people getting second chances at finding happiness-be it with someone else or by themselves-oftentimes the journey was ugly.
She lifted her glass to CJ. "Good wine. Thank you."
He tapped the bar twice. "Nat's running late, but I've got cheese fries in for you." He ambled off to take care of another customer.
Lindsey had taken another two sips when her anti-match-o-meter tingled. First a long, parched heat, then a winter squall, followed by a dewy spring morning and a flipping rainbow. Her fingers tightened around her wineglass and she pursed her lips.
He was supposed to be at Melodies.
But a body slid between her and the stool with her coat on it. "Evenin', Miss Lindsey," Will drawled. "Fancy meeting you here tonight."
"I come here often," she said.
He chuckled softly.
She set her glass down, then twisted her stool to face him. He had his back to the bar, elbows propped behind him, which nicely stretched the white T-shirt over his solid chest beneath his red plaid overshirt. His cowboy boots were crossed at his ankles, and he was close enough for her to catch his subtle scent of bar soap and cotton. Her knees bumped his hip when she turned, and she could count the individual whiskers on his face-they'd be the right mix of soft and scruffy, she was sure-but she channeled her inner baby-eater mask and gathered all her inner willpower to fight the intrigued shiver skittering through her blood.
She generally liked her space. Apparently with Will, she liked a good fight more. "Why are you here?" she said.
"Figured the crowd would be too big at the karaoke bar, what with all the rumors about me being there and all." All his mischief was on display tonight, and that Teflon country boy smile made the smileys on her panties sigh in admiration.
She unclenched her jaw. "Here in Bliss," she clarified.
"Ah. That." He nodded. "My psychic told me to come."
Did he just-he did. He was mocking her. "Do you know what I get paid to eat guys like you for breakfast?" she growled before she could stop herself.
He simply grinned bigger. "Not as much as I get paid for writing songs about a girl's … smiles."
Her nostrils flared. Her vision narrowed until she could see one thing-the enemy.
She'd suspected fame had changed him.
Unfortunately, not for the better.
"Hey, CJ," she called, still glaring at Will.
"Yeah?" her brother-in-law answered.
"You know how you're always saying to let you know if someone needs his ass kicked?"
Will's eyes widened. He looked over his shoulder-at CJ, Lindsey presumed, who had Will by a good few inches.
"Letting somebody else fight your battles, lawyer lady?" Will murmured.
"I got time to pop some popcorn and grab a beer first?" CJ said. "Anybody got a video-aw, shit, Lindsey. You can't kick Billy's ass."
"Watch me."
"Better tell her you're sorry, Billy, or we'll have Marilyn breathing down our neck," CJ said. "Don't know if you've met the Queen General of Bliss yet, but you will. She's worse than all my sisters put together. And then some."
Will held his hands up. "No offense meant," he said to both of them. Then he turned an overly charming grin on Lindsey again. "Was actually hoping you could tell me about the brunette."
She lifted a brow.
He pointed to his hair poking out under his cap. "The one with the red streaks."
Lindsey froze. His country boy grin was still firmly in place, but she could see something the rest of the bar couldn't.
She could see his eyes beneath his ball cap. They were on the honey brown side tonight, with faint lines at the edges, experience and depth and life making him look far more intelligent-and dangerous-than the simple country boy she'd known for a week in Colorado.
"What brunette with red streaks?" she said evenly.
"The one you thought was a good match for Mikey the other night. Curvy. Had glasses."
Dangerous was exactly what he was. She'd known he was watching her.
She hadn't known how well.
She suppressed a shiver. No man should've been able to read her like that. Especially one she hadn't seen in fifteen years. "I don't believe we know each other nearly well enough for you to make assumptions about me matchmaking. Which I don't do."
"Might could have a point." He shifted so he was fully facing her. "Those matches you see-they ever change?"
Lindsey's mouth went dry.
He wasn't-he was not here in Bliss for her. He wasn't asking for a second chance. He couldn't be.
Because he wasn't just Will. He was Billy Brenton. He was huge, with millions of fans and probably a couple thousand creepy weirdo fans among them who meant it when they offered to have his babies. He didn't have any reason to come back to her.
Especially after how she'd ended things with him.
His country boy smile was gone. So was the mischief. All that was left was an honest, serious question about whether bad matches could turn to not-bad matches, coming from a man who shouldn't have remembered her name, much less her special talent.
The man who seemed to have taken particular delight in poking at her in their few minutes together.
A dark presence beside her made her blink. "Jeez, Billy, I step in the john for two minutes, and you go getting yourself in trouble," Mikey said. He gave Lindsey a smile that could've frozen a lava pit.