I saw the letter on Miranda’s windshield when I reached the parking lot, but chose not to grab it myself, wanting to observe the surroundings. Hoping I’d see the perpetrator, I hid myself behind a brick wall nearby. I had full view of her vehicle, which I’d managed to park right next to when I’d arrived that afternoon. Unfortunately, the letter was already there, so the next best move was to watch her, and see how she reacted to it.

As I watched her grab the white paper and crumble it in her hand before reading it, she looked around cautiously herself. Good girl. She was aware of her surroundings, at least somewhat. Before approaching, I took in the relationship between the sisters, noticing that Carmen’s demeanor had changed from her saltier self to a more concerned and protective one. After they’d talked for a few moments, and I couldn’t catch a glimpse of anyone suspicious around, I approached the girls as if I’d just happened upon them.

Once it was determined Miranda and I would just order dinner at her place, I followed her there. She lived in a small bungalow style house with a little yard; she even had flowers in mismatched planters on her porch.

“You like flowers?” I asked, thinking that was a dumb question the moment it came out of my mouth.

Turning back to me as she was sliding her key in the door, she smiled. “I’m a girl. Of course I like flowers,” .She laughed a little. “But in the interest of full disclosure, I don’t keep these alive myself. The guys who take care of my yard do. I kill things, unfortunately.”

I chuckled. “I don’t have much of a green thumb either. I tried to grow my own herbs for cooking and stuff, from some kit that said it was foolproof and any jackass could do it. Not so much.”

“I tried that too!” she exclaimed. “They underestimate my powers of destruction. Those basil plants never stood a chance. I even tried mint, which is technically a weed, and it died within days.”

We both walked into her house, laughing. “Make yourself at home, Ryan. I apologize for the mess, but we leave tomorrow, so I have shit everywhere.”

Glancing around the room, I saw all the different things she was planning to bring. A stack of worn notebooks was sitting on an old overstuffed couch, next to a pile of books that looked like romance novels. There were two guitar cases leaned up against the same couch, and several piles of clothes all over the living room. She had concert posters in frames, as well as several family photos on the mantle above a white fireplace. I locked the front door behind us as she walked into the kitchen.

“Can I get you a drink? I have beer, wine, and bottled water,” she called out.

“I’ll just have a water, thanks,” I replied, taking a seat in what looked like a vintage armchair. Her style was eclectic and cool; nothing really matched, but it still all worked somehow, and felt comfortable.

“Here you go,” .She handed me a bottle of water, and shoved the pile of clothes on the couch over so she could take a seat across from me. Folding her legs up under her, she took a long pull from her bottle of water before jumping right in. “So, look. Obviously, my dad is our manager, and he made these arrangements with you to come on tour with us. I’m a savvy businesswoman, so I’m well aware of what good exposure this could be for us, but I want to make sure we have an understanding about how our tour operates, and how my sister and I like to do things, regardless of what my dad has to say.”

Leaning forward in my chair, I rested my elbows on my thighs and smirked. She was no nonsense, that’s for sure. “Okay, Miranda, let’s hear your thoughts. I’m open to whatever is mutually beneficial for both of us. This is as good for me as it is for you, as long as I’m able to do my job.”

Raising a perfectly arched eyebrow at me, she replied, “And what exactly is your job?”

“My job is to actually chronicle what it’s like to be on tour with you. It’s to get to know the real you, not just the persona. My readers want to feel like they have a glimpse into what your life is really like, not just the fantasy of a rock star life.” I watched for her reaction. As she nodded thoughtfully at me, I continued, “Basically, I need you to give me full access. I get to come with you everywhere. Now, before you freak out, let me explain that my goal isn’t to get in your way at all, which you and your sister have mentioned several times.”

She grinned, “Yeah, my sister can be a little rough around the edges sometimes, but she really does mean well. And she’s an absolutely amazing drummer.”

“Oh, I’m familiar with your music. The Little Queens kick ass, that's why I’m here, let’s be honest. I can handle Carmen; I’m not worried about her. She’s had plenty of PR, good and bad, but I want more on you. You’re the quiet one in the public eye, even though you’re the front man, so to speak. You’re the voice of the band, and yet nobody really knows you,” I said, working my way into being her shadow for the tour.

She looked at me thoughtfully before responding, “Interesting. Well, here’s what I can do. You can follow me around, .You can stick with me; you have my permission for that. But if I tell you I need alone time, which will happen at some point, it’s close quarters, you need to respect that. I will do my very best to give you full access if you promise me that I get to approve anything you print. I’m not opposed to what you’re suggesting, but I don’t have any reason to trust you yet, and want to make sure I’m comfortable with whatever it is you plan to publish. It’s a magazine, not a newspaper, so that should seem fair to you.”

As she narrowed her eyes at me, awaiting my response, all I could think about was how easy it was to get exactly what I needed to do my real job well; full access to her. “You’ve got a deal, Miranda. I like your style; you cut right to the chase. This should be fun.”

“I don’t know about fun, but it’ll be interesting,” .She relaxed her shoulders, and stretched her neck gently. She was visibly tense, and while I couldn’t help but notice, I reminded myself again that my job was to protect her, .Not massage her shoulders, which is what I was inclined to do. She was beautiful; not in the traditional sense, but more in her aura. She had the rocker edge, with the red and black hair, and tattoos that were absolutely stunning, but she also had the kindest smile I think I’d ever encountered. Her genuine giggle when something made her laugh was already playing with my head.

I’d never felt drawn to a client before; it’s always been strictly business for me. When I took the job, this was no exception, but I could tell that she was working her way under my skin without even trying. It’s never a good thing to get attached to the person you’re hired to protect, but I fancied myself an exception to the rule, and decided that my attraction to her was of little consequence in doing my job. I wasn’t a relationship guy to begin with, and having a one-night stand was out of the question in this instance.

“Did you get everything else that you needed before we go? Passes and all that jazz, so you can go backstage and everything?” she asked, interrupting my thoughts.

“I sure did. I’ve got an itinerary with all the locations, and I’ve already packed, for the most part. I’ll check out of my hotel in the morning, and be ready and waiting,” I replied.

“Where are you actually from?” She grabbed a throw pillow from beside her and hugged it to herself gently.

“California. Mostly San Francisco, but I’ve lived all over California. I travel like this for work, though, pretty often,” I replied, telling the truth.

“I’m looking forward to California on the tour. We have a stop in San Fran, and if memory serves me, we’ll be staying an extra night there, just to relax.”

“Yes, I did notice that. I’m sure I’ll be happy to sleep in my own bed for a night.”

Laughing, she replied, “Oh I’m sure you will be. Sleeping on the bus totally blows, and I look forward to our hotel stays more than anything when we’re on the road.”

“There’s not a whole lot of those, from what I recall,” I said.

Rolling her eyes, but still smiling, she replied, “No, there sure isn’t. But we try to make it a couple days where we can, so that we can actually rest. Usually about halfway through the tour, I need a couple days to just rest my voice because it’s just so much, singing for that many days in a row, so we make sure I’m able to do that on the second half of the tour more than any other time.”

“That makes sense. And, I’d like to point out, this is exactly the kind of thing the readers would love to know.”

“What? That I need a break during the tour?” She seemed surprised.

“Yeah, absolutely. It shows you’re human. Any normal person would want a break too, and you’re honest about it. You don’t barrel through it; you give yourself a few days off so you can keep putting on great shows.” I was making all of this up as I was saying it, although it made real sense to me. I believed what I was saying. I didn’t want to lie to her; that was the worst part about the job out of the gate, but I understood why we were doing it. I intended to make every effort to be truthful with her as this tour went along, except for the part about why I was really there.

“I never thought of it that way,” she replied softly.

I decided it was time to get back to my hotel and finish prepping for the three months on the road before I got distracted any further. I also hadn’t had the chance to check around the perimeter of her house and wanted to spend a little time doing that as well. “Well, now you can.” I stood up. “I’m gonna hit the road and let you do your thing here.” I waved my hand around the room at all the things it looked like she needed to pack.

Sighing, she replied, “Yeah, I guess I do have a lot to do here. I promised to feed you, are you sure?” She got up to walk me out and that’s when things got awkward.

“No, I’m totally good, but thank you. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow,” I replied, as I put my hand out for her to shake it, which she ran into as she came in for a friendly hug. I basically poked her right in the stomach with my hand and tried to recover by returning the friendly hug, but by then she laughed, and I felt like a tool. It was only lessened by the fact that she smelled amazing, like fresh cut grass or something.

“We’ll have to work on that,” she said. “If you’re gonna be on the road with us for three months, you’re family now, and we hug, so get used to it.”

Chuckling about the entire bumbling moment, I replied, “Note taken. Hugs it is. I’ll see you tomorrow, Miranda.”

“Night, Ryan,” she said softly as she shut the door. When I heard the lock click after she shut it, I felt relieved, and I headed to my truck to stake out her place for a bit.