GAGA by Leslie Tall Manning

Author:Leslie Tall Manning
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grace House Press via Indie Author Project
Published: 2015-04-01T00:00:00+00:00

They stood in the lobby of the hotel.

“I’ll walk you up,” Tim told her.

Monty declined, saying something about being super tired and a little headachy.

“I still don’t know anything about you,” he said, the sound of disappointment clearly at the front of his words. “It seems like you’ve been asking all the questions.”

“I’m sorry,” Monty said.

He touched her arm.

“No, not at all. It’s me. I never let other people talk about themselves. At least that’s what my ex keeps telling me. As a matter of fact, I hear that from a lot of people. I just like to talk, I guess. I’m a big—talker.”

Donny stuck his head through the lobby doors.

“Bus is ready to roll,” he told Tim. “You coming?”

Tim waved him off with his hand. “One sec.”

Donny went back outside, where he did a funny dance to keep warm. Monty noticed his breath in the cold air circling him as he waited for his drummer outside the doors.

Why doesn’t he go wait in the bus? Tim’s a big boy.

Tim took her hand. His calloused palm scratched hers.

“Let’s do something tomorrow. I don’t have to be at the center till two hours before show time. Wanna hit a museum or two?”

Monty was tempted to say yes. After all, she had an obligation to her magazine to get the most information possible, no matter how that happened. No matter which musician she had to lead on before she got to the band’s main heartthrob.

But her exhaustion only magnified how emotional she already felt.

“I have plans during the day,” she lied.

“You know people in DC?”

“Yes.”

“Come backstage tomorrow night then. No more mob seating for you. Come right to the back door. I’ll put in your name with security. Melody…”

“Richards,” she said quietly, disgusted by the fact that no one in all of DC knew her real name.

“I’ll buy you dinner after. If you want. And I promise I’ll let you do the talking, let you tell me something about Miss Melody Richards.”

He hesitated for a moment, staring out through the glass doors at Donny, his back turned away from them, jumping from one foot to the other.

“You’re not the only one, you know,” Tim told her.

“The only one?”

“All the girls fall for Donny.”

“I—”

“But you’re only a speck in a really big fan club, Melody. He’s got a lot going on—if you know what I mean.”

Monty pictured CZ, her arm wrapped around Donny’s waist like a snake that had slithered its way there many times before.

“If you keep that in mind,” Tim told her, “we can work something out. It’s not too often I get infatuated with a woman from the audience. More like never.” He rubbed a hand across his bandana. “Anyhow, you’re tired, so go on up. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

Monty didn’t say anything.

“Backstage? Tomorrow night?”

She nodded.

Of course he would see her tomorrow. And the next night. And the following week. Because Monty had a contract. She had a schedule to follow that was as taxing as the band’s.

If a stranger had been looking in, Monty thought, they would have sworn that she was with the band.

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