Once the band members were seated at a long table near the back of the store, security opened the entry door and allowed ten people inside. Toni recorded one of them being patted down and having a metal detector run over his body. She’d wait until he finished talking to the band before she asked him to sign a release form. She decided to stick with this guy through his entire meeting. He was probably in his midthirties and was tattooed from head to toe. That didn’t mean he didn’t squeal like a schoolgirl when he got to shake Dare Mills’s hand.
“You are a god, dude! A rock god,” he professed.
“Nah. A disciple at best,” Dare joked.
The tattooed man held his forearm out to Dare. “Sign right there under the band logo. I’m having it fucking inked there permanently.”
While Dare carefully signed his name with a permanent marker under the gargoyle that loomed over the band’s name, the man started telling him about all the Exodus End concerts he’d been to. “I saw you in Hamburg, Germany, a couple of years ago. There were a hundred thousand people there. They never have concerts that big in the U.S.”
“I remember that show,” Logan said. “It rained buckets. Everyone was drenched and muddy. Max got shocked by his microphone.”
“He did?” the guy said, eyes wide. “I never knew that.”
“Yeah, just a little jolt,” Logan said, glancing at Max, who was too busy interacting with a female fan to know he was the topic of their conversation. “But the way he talks about it . . .”
“Dude!” the fan said to Logan, apparently just realizing who he was speaking to. “Duuuuuude! Will you sign my arm too? I’ll get all your names tattooed on there. It will be fucking awesome.”
He bellowed
awesome
like a demon-possessed death-metal singer. This guy was a riot. Toni simply had to interview him for the fan section of the book. She hoped he’d agree to answer a few questions.
Logan signed his name on the man’s forearm and then turned his attention to the giggling young woman holding a life-sized poster of him.
“Will you sign this for me?” Giggle. “I’m going to be at the concert tonight.” Giggle. “If you wanna hook up with me backstage, I’ll rock your world.” Giggle giggle.
Toni had no idea what Logan would have said if she hadn’t been standing right there, but she was relieved when he said, “There’s no after-party tonight, doll. We have to get on the road again as soon as the show ends.”
“What if I follow the bus to your next show? Will there be an after-party there?”
Logan scratched his head. “I think our next party is in Salt Lake.”
Giggle. “I’d follow you anywhere.”
Toni scowled. She wondered if she had any chance at keeping this man’s interest. Did she want to even try? He lifted his sexy eyes to meet her gaze and smiled suggestively. Her mismatched socks melted in her loafers. Oh yeah, she definitely wanted to try.
Through three hours of autographs and hugs, squeals and
duuuudes,
all the members of the band kept their cool and gave each fan a bit of personalized attention. When Butch announced it was time to go, there was a roar of outrage outside the store. People were still waiting, but the band had to get to the stadium to assist with sound check. Toni wondered how they had the energy for music with all this other stuff clogging up their schedules. Logan stretched his arms over his head, giving Toni a delicious view of his belly. She wondered if he’d like her to lick those abs of his.
Logan caught her drooling over his bare skin and offered her a little wink. Heat flooded her face, and she decided now was a good time to interview the record store employees. She needed to get her mind off Logan’s fascinating body and back on the job she was there to do.
All the store clerks raved about the band. The co-owner, who happened to be the owner’s wife, was particularly eager to share her enthusiasm.
“We usually only get unknown bands in here. Maybe twenty people show up to their signings—usually the band members’ moms and girlfriends. This is beyond awesome. I love how an act as huge as Exodus End is willing to take time for little record stores like us.”
“It’s because you have the best water,” Steve said, tilting his nearly empty glass in her direction in an informal toast. He downed the rest of his water in one gulp and then signed the bass drum skin that some wanna-be drummer had just slid onto the table in front of him.
“You, dude, are the god of drummers,” his fan proclaimed. “No one tears up a set of skins like Steve motherfucking Aimes.”
Interesting middle name. Toni wondered if the guys ever tired of fans calling them gods. If she had a dollar for every time she’d heard them called gods today, she could retire to the Caribbean and spend her days on the beach sipping mai tais.
“We really need to leave, guys,” Butch said, obsessively checking his watch now.
“Then we’re taking the long walk around the building,” Max said.
“Absolutely not!” Butch said.
Toni wasn’t sure what was meant by “the long walk,” but she followed the band as they stood, thanked the record store owners—smiling for pictures with them that were sure to grace the store’s walls in gilded frames before nightfall—and then headed out the front doors, where the waiting crowd was still milling.
“We have another engagement,” Max yelled over the screaming crowd. “We have to do the rest of this like sluts.”
Steve tilted his head, his brow crinkled. “Fast and easy?”
“Exactly.”
And thus began the assembly-line signing. The band started at one end of the crowd and signed anything shoved in their face—music scores, guitars, CDs, posters, boobs, T-shirts—if it had a surface, it got a signature. There wasn’t time for much personal interaction, but none of the band members seemed to mind all the touchy-feely going on. Toni would have taken a swim in a vat of hand sanitizer after being grabbed by that many strangers.
The band reached the end of the line, lifted hands of farewell to the enthusiastic crowd, and dove into the limo like a synchronized swim team. Toni scrambled in after them, followed by Butch. The rest of their security team got into a minivan and they all headed off to sound check.
When they arrived, crew members were putting the final touches on the stage assembly. So much was happening all at once that Toni didn’t know where to start with her data gathering, so she mostly gawked.
“Close your mouth or you’ll attract flies,” Steve said.
Her jaws snapped shut, and she shoved him.
“Where did Logan go?” Steve asked. “Didn’t get to see much of him yesterday. I have to tell him about the twins I meet at the bar Monday night.”
“
Female
twins?” She was teasing, but Steve scowled.
“Yes, female twins. I thought I made it clear that I’m one hundred percent heterosexual.”
“I didn’t mean to insinuate . . .” She cut off her apology and slapped him on the arm. “Don’t be so sensitive. I was just joking.”
“Oh.” His gorgeous face lit up with a smile. “Good one, Toni.” He returned her slap on the arm.
“What time do they start setting up the stage?” Toni asked. It was an amazing work of engineering. Assembling the hydraulics must take hours. Disassembling must take just as long. And then they had to load it, drive it to the next destination, and assemble it again. Toni suspected the road crew needed those days off even more than the band did.
“Hell if I care,” Steve said. “Why don’t you talk to Colby? She’s the head engineer.”
Toni’s eyes widened. “You have engineers?” She wondered just how many hands it took to put this tour together.
“I wouldn’t step onto that moving drum platform without them. So where’s Logan?”
“I don’t know. He said something about going to the dressing room.”
“Thanks.”
He turned to go, but Toni called after him. “When you find him, give him a kiss for me.”
Steve stopped in his tracks and turned to scowl at her. It must have occurred to him that she was teasing again as a grin soon replaced his frown. “With extra tongue,” he promised and strode toward the backstage area.
Toni went off in search of Colby the engineer. After asking around, she was directed under the partially assembled stage. She located the woman cussing up a storm under Logan’s platform.
“These things aren’t designed to carry that much extra weight.”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A hammer ricocheted off a metal bar. “Next time one of them wants to bring a guest up on their goddamned platform, they’d better fucking ask me first.”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Colby shifted the hammer to her other hand and wiped the first hand on her grease-smeared coveralls. “Fucking thing!”
Bang!
Toni cringed, realizing she was the extra weight the engineer was cursing about. Toni started to back away. She probably shouldn’t bother the woman. Especially when she was busy repairing Logan’s hydraulic lift.
“Did you need something?” Colby asked, apparently catching Toni’s movement when she attempted to slink off.
“You’re busy. I don’t want to bother you.”
“Bother away.”
Bang!
“Um, well, I’m writing an interactive biography on the band.”
“So you’re the one who bent the support bar.”
Bang! Bang!
Toni placed a hand on her belly. “I have been meaning to go on a diet.”
Colby laughed. “It’s already too late for that.”
Bang!
Something snapped into place. “Got it!” She slid out from under the platform and wiped her face on her sleeve.
Toni gaped at her. Not only was the band’s head stage engineer a woman, but she was ancient. Perhaps if Colby didn’t curse like a drunken rock star, Toni wouldn’t have been so stunned to find herself face to face with a woman old enough to be her grandmother.
“So you’re writing about the band
and
. . . ?” Colby twirled one hand at Toni to encourage her to get on with it.
“And I want to include a chapter on stage setup.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s interesting and not many people get to see all the work that goes into the show before it even starts.”
“Colby, are you ready to test it?” someone called under the stage.
“Give it a go!” she shouted. To Toni she asked, “So what do you want from me?”
“When you’re not busy, I’d like to ask you some questions and record some footage of the stage being erected and torn down. Maybe do a time-lapse video.” Toni nibbled on her lip, trying to come up with something that hadn’t been done a thousand times before. “Maybe one of the crew could wear a head camera as he goes about his work. That would pick up some really neat footage.”
Colby tilted her head and assessed her for a moment before shrugging. “Okay, I’ll talk to the crew and see if any of them are willing to be your guinea pig, and then I’ll let you know which day would work best for filming. They’re going to want to put on their makeup.”
Toni smiled. That had been easier than she’d anticipated. “Great!”
Metal groaned as Logan’s lift shuddered and rose several inches. “No good!” Colby yelled, and the grinding sound stopped. “Stupid fucking thing.”
“I won’t take any more of your time,” Toni said. “I hope you get the lift fixed.” Mostly because the man she loved had to ride that thing to the stage later that night.
“Oh, I’ll get it fixed.” Colby dropped down to slide under the metal platform again.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Toni emerged from beneath the stage and blinked in the sudden bright light. Crew members were testing the functioning platforms by riding them up and lowering them back down. Or maybe they were just goofing off since they seemed to be having a lot of fun taking turns launching each other onto the stage.
“There you are,” Logan said.
“Did Steve find you?”
“To brag about banging a pair of twins?” He grinned and nodded. “Yeah, he found me. What were you doing under the stage?”
“Talking to Colby about capturing footage of the crew at work.”
Logan nodded toward the stage, where one crew member had just catapulted off Dare’s lift with a loud
yeehaw
! “Are you sure that’s work?”
“Just because work is fun doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong,” she repeated what he’d told her a few days before.
He laughed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “We’re getting ready to do one of Mad Dog’s famous sound checks. I thought you might want to get some work done and film it.”
“
Famous
sound checks?” She winked at him. “They can’t be too famous. I’ve never heard of them.”
“They’re legendary among soundboard operators. And they’re also fun.”
A legendary, fun sound check? Now this she had to see.
Toni immediately understood why Mad Dog had been given his nickname. With impressive jowls, small dark eyes, underbite and upturned nose, he looked like a bulldog. But not a
mad
dog—either angry
or
insane. He was incredibly nice to her as she stuck a camera in his face and asked how he’d met the band. But Toni supposed the nickname Friendly Dog wouldn’t have given the desired impression.
“Can I try first this time?” asked a cute blonde with lavender streaks in her hair.
“I don’t see why not,” Mad Dog said.
“How many soundboard operators does Exodus End have?” Toni asked.
“I’m FOH.” Mad Dog patted her hand and leaned close. “That stands for front of house,” he said quietly. “And Trevor is our monitor engineer. He’s up by the stage.”
Toni turned to the other two people in the barrier fence situated in the center of the arena. In addition to the blonde, there was a young man in a wheelchair. “So you two are?”
“Sorry,” the blonde said. “I should have introduced myself. I’m Rebekah Sticks, co-FOH for Sinners, and this is my big brother, Dave, who sometimes lets me touch his soundboard.”
“I’m also FOH for Sinners,” Dave said as he shook Toni’s hand.
“Is it usual to have two FOH engineers?” Toni asked.
“Nope,” Dave said, “but her husband’s with the band, so they won’t let me fire her.”
Rebekah slapped her brother on the shoulder, and he winced.
Mad Dog spoke into his microphone, and his voice was projected through the arena. “Sound check one.”