“Lose something?”

It’s less a question and more an accusation. When I turn, Lass’s expression is…bemused. So I’m wandering around a hotel at eight in the morning, what’s the big deal?

The road crew arrived an hour ago, after traveling in from a show two states over. Some of them were scattered in the small cafeteria area where a full breakfast buffet was open. I’d even found two of the guys in the fitness center, lifting weights.

The pool wasn’t open yet, but I’d scanned the beach from my balcony several times.

I can’t find Evie anywhere.

The last time we were in the area, I’d found a brochure about a ropes course at the local aquarium, and it’d looked like fun, but our schedule had zero space.

This time we did, with extra. Tomorrow was a festival gig, so the crew didn’t have to set up our stage, just our equipment. The set was shorter as well, and had about a quarter of the usual pyro effects. We had six of them scheduled over the next few months, mixed in with our regular tour.

I check the walkway in both directions. “Just tell me where she is, Lass. I’ll get you those weird English candy things you like so much.”

“You already ordered me some.” She flashes me a smile. Of course I have. Heather probably set up a recurring order. Or Lass herself. Either way, fine by me.

“The big box?”

“Biggest they make. You’re so sweet that way. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

I don’t have anything else to barter with.

“Please?”

Lass sighs. “Fear the day I stop liking you, Baker.”

“I already do.”

“She has another job.”

Huh? Another job? She’s gone? My fingers grip at empty air by my sides. There has to be an explanation. Evie wouldn’t just leave without telling me.

Why would she leave at all?

Then it hits me. “This is a joke, right? The guys put you two up to this?”

Lass tilts her head. “No. Not my sort of joke.”

Acid bubbles in my stomach. Finally, I dig out my phone. My fingers are trembling, but I manage to unlock it before Lass puts her hand over mine.

“Grady,” she says, pulling on my arm a little to get my focus. “Didn’t you get her note? I slipped it under your door just after we checked in. She’s helping out a friend with some event today. She’ll be back tonight.”

It’s obvious from the concern lining Lass’s face that I’m freaking out. She’s petting my arm now like she’s trying to comfort a dog freaking out at a thunderstorm.

I step back, shoving my hands into my pockets. “Okay. Cool. I’ll give her a call in a bit.”

“Grady,” Lass gently calls after me, but I push through the stairwell door, then take the four flights up to my floor two at a time.

I nod at our head of security, who’s leaning on the railing. He can stop anyone coming off the elevators or out of the stairwell who doesn’t belong on the floor. Steam is rising from the huge travel mug balanced between his fingers.

He tips his chin and goes back to surveying the street, still quiet this early, before the beach fills with tourists. I like beach towns, with main streets filled with souvenir shops and little bars and bicycles. Women in bikinis and sheer cover-ups don’t hurt the view either.

The stucco is rough as I palm the corner to make the turn. I’m practically running.

Peeking out from under my door, a little triangle of yellow where the paper wouldn’t slide the whole way through. I slump a little with relief.

Evie’s handwriting is a collection of hard slashes and girly curves. I’ve never seen it before, and for a moment I let my eyes sweep over the patterns. If someone handed me a bunch of samples, and asked me which one was Evie’s, this is the one I would pick. The idea calms me.

She’s doodled along the edges, stars and smiley faces and geometric shapes.

 

Hey, Grady,

I can’t remember if I told you. I think I forgot to tell you. Sorry about that. It’s kind of a last-minute thing. A huge firework display out on a lake for some private fundraiser, I think. Lots of set up on barges and the shore and I guess a few from up on a hill. The guy doing it used to do the displays at one of the theme parks in LA. It was one of my first jobs out there. He’s a little short-handed today, so since I was in the area, I’m helping out. Never hurts to keep up those connections, after all.

Get some beauty sleep, rock star. I’ll see you tonight.

XXOO, Evie.

 

Across the bottom, she scrawled a PS.

 

We got stuck in some construction and got here late. My ride is waiting in the parking lot. Sorry this isn’t on your pillow, but there’s things Lass doesn’t need to see.

 

Cracking my neck alleviates the last of the tension and I kick my shoes off and put my feet up. Not like there’s a whole lot else I can do.

Sleep is a good idea, but my mind is racing just a little too fast.

Evie’s off on another job. It’s not a big deal. The rational, adult part of my brain knows this.

The primitive, just-crawled-out-of-the-ooze part of my brain doesn’t give a shit about rational.

Evie’s off on another job.

Evie’s going to have another job.

Not this one, here, with us. With me.

Because she’s just filling in for another roadie.

When he comes back, she’ll be gone. Another tour, another traveling circus, another band of nomads. Another series of catch-up phone calls and awkward reunions until it all just fades away.

I drop my feet to the floor and stare out the huge windows. There’s nothing out there but ocean and sunshine, the water sparkling as far as I can see. Just as it’s been doing for millions of years.

It’s good for my ego to feel so small sometimes, puts things in perspective.

I grab my phone and send off a text to Evie. Just found your note. Have fun today. We found this cool little Mexican place last time we were here. I’ll grab something for you to heat up when you get back.

She’s gone for a day. It hasn’t even been two months since we met. No use getting ahead of myself.

I’m so full of shit sometimes.

Thank you! Extra sour cream, please!

See, a perfectly normal exchange.

Just to be a smartass, I should order her vats of the stuff.

Evie finally drags in at one in the morning. Not a terribly late time on a rock tour, but she didn’t sleep most of the day like I did.

“Hey, fire woman.” She sags into my hug. “How’d it go?”

“Slowly. Then lots of booms and pretty lights. Please tell me there’s food?” she asks, but her arms stay around me, her fingers hooked in the loop on the back of my jeans, like she can’t hold herself up.

“There is.”

Lifting her head, she regards me for a moment with half-lidded eyes, like she’s too tired to open them but would be narrowing them at me anyway. “You bought one of everything again, didn’t you?”

Her chin rests against my chest, and she’s letting me take all her weight. Trusting. Open.

I dip my head and press a quick kiss to the tip of her nose. “No. I ordered all the combo platters.”

One slow blink. “So there’s still one of everything?”

“Yes. Except the fried ice cream, because it melted before I got it back here. But I went to the candy store across the street, so there is lots of taffy and chocolates and these lollipop things made of nothing but sugar and chemicals that look like flames and reminded me of you. Please don’t try to eat them in public, because you don’t like public sex, and that’s exactly what’s going to happen because there is no way I can watch you lick them and not be all up in everything you’ve got.”

“Duly noted.” She shifts, snuggling into me, her hair sticking to the stubble on my chin.

The knots in my guts unravel as I stroke my hand down her back. “You don’t smell like burned shit.”

“Gee, thanks.” She sticks her tongue out at me as she gets back on her own two feet. “I had to wait for a ride. Big wigs, back slapping, blah blah. So I convinced the manager of the boat club to let me use their showers. I fell in the lake. A few times.”

“So you smelled like fish and burned shit.”

“Pretty much. Tomorrow is laundry day.”

“There’s one on this floor.”

Her head bobs as she slogs over to the small kitchen area and she has to brace herself on the counter to peer into the fridge under it.

“There was a guy from one of the other effects companies there, just checking things out. He does some events in DC each year. Guess I impressed him, he gave me his card and told me to call if I was ever looking for another job.”

“Why would you look for another job?” I manage to keep my voice casual, even as my fingers clench around the bowl I’m pulling from a cabinet.

“Just options.” Her jaw cracks on a yawn. “Never hurts to have backup plans.”

I’ve never had a backup plan. Too focused on getting Plan A done.

“Oh, who the fuck?” she grumbles as her phone rings. “Hey, it’s Sparks.”

I nudge her toward the couch. “Take it. I’ll heat something up for you.”

Even with the slider open to hear the waves crashing, the room is quiet enough and her phone loud enough I can hear their conversation.

“Didn’t wake you, did I?” Sparks asks. His gruff voice makes me smile. I do kind of miss the grumpy bastard.

“No. Just a long day.” She tells him briefly about the event.

“They’re good guys. Glad to hear they’re doing well.”

“Speaking of good guys doing well, how are you?”

There’s a pause, then Sparks curses under his breath, with isn’t muted at all. “Fuckers.”

“You’re doing fuckers?” I have to bite my tongue so Sparks doesn’t hear me laugh at her dry tone.

“If BlastFX had told you yet, you wouldn’t be asking me that.”

So much for the veneer of calm I’d been holding onto. Evie asks the question I’m barely holding back. As far as I know, Terrel hasn’t heard anything either.

“Told me what?”

“The doc made it official last week. I’m grounded. No more touring. I’m healed enough to work some, but not to be on the road. Took in all the paperwork to that ratfuck Simon the next day. Recommended he give my job to you permanently.”

Yes! I manage not to pump my fist in the air, but there’s no hiding my grin, so I fuss with her food some more to avoid turning around. She said extra sour cream after all.

“Maybe they’re just doing paperwork.” She’s hedging, voice too cautious. My grin disappears. Then she heaves a sigh. “Or Simon’s figuring out how to fuck me over.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m wondering, too,” Sparks says. “Hung around for a while, just saying hi to some folks. Overheard some shit.”

“What kind of shit?”

“You getting kind of friendly with Grady out there?”

There’s no accusation in his tone, but when Evie stomps her foot and strangles back a scream, the happy endorphins drop as fast as they spiked.

“Look, kiddo,” Sparks says. “I toured with those guys a long time, and I know they don’t mess around with people that work for them. So whatever you two got going on, it’s a real thing. You and Grady kind of make sense, actually.”

Sparks stops to chuckle. “Just keep him away from the fire marshals.”

I catch Evie’s eye. She’s giving the look so I shrug innocently and smile. She flips me off.

“Problem is, you know Simon isn’t going to see it that way. Not sure how far my recommendation will go, but you earned that spot, kiddo. Fight for it.”

“Thanks for the heads up, Sparks. Appreciate it.”

“Watch your back.”

She hangs up and flops back on the couch.

“I am so fucked,” she grumbles.

“How so?” I set her plate on the low ottoman and nudge her to sit up. “You don’t want to stay on?”

“It’s not that,” she says around a mouthful of burrito. “It could do with a little less orgy, but you guys have some of the best pyro around. Other tours don’t do this much nowadays. More lasers and LEDs.”

Two more bites, chewed while she stares at the wall across from us.

“He’s been trying to screw me over since the day I started. That it’s been a week and no word? Something’s up.”

“Not to dis on Sparks, but you’re the best pyrotech we’ve had. Efficient, professional, cool under pressure. Okay, you swear at the singer a lot, but eh.”

My joke gets a laugh, and the worry eases back. “Let me tell Terrel. He can talk to our other managers. We’ve got to have some sort of say in who gets the position. You’re already here and killing it, so it’s stupid to send in someone else.”

She snorts. “Simon sort of specializes in stupid, especially if it suits his ego.”

“And we specialize in getting everything we want. As all the orgy proves.”

Evie rolls her eyes. I throw my arms around her and pull her close, smacking a kiss to her cheek.

“Sparks is right, you know. And he didn’t even have to be here to see it. We have something real here,” I whisper against her hair. “It doesn’t matter what it looks like, it only matters what it is.”

She nods and leans into me for a moment. “I think I’m just exhausted.”

“Finish eating and I’ll give you a back rub. Then we’ll pass out. Want to do a ropes course thing tomorrow before we head to the festival?”

“Do we have time?” Her eyes light up at the suggestions, but she reaches for the itinerary I left on the other ottoman. “I have no idea how the pyro’s going to work at this thing. I should probably get there early and familiarize myself with everything.”

I take the paper from her and put it behind me before cupping her face in my hands. My thumb lands right on her scar and I brush against it. “We’ll make time. Have a little fun, fire woman. I promise everything is going to work out.”

She hums a little. “Okay.”

I kiss her, then again, before snatching a tortilla chip from her plate and sitting back. Fork hovering over the plate, she just looks the food for a few moments.

“That is an assload of sour cream.”