Page 102 of Beautiful Distraction

“Oh.” She purses her lips and eyes me for a moment. “You’llhave to tell me everything…after the gig, of course.”

“Of course,” I mumble.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

When I make my way downstairs, I find Mandy in the kitchen,head lowered over a cup of coffee and the magazine in her hands. From thedoorway, I have a few seconds to take in her outfit her before she notices me.She’s wearing a short leather skirt, high-heel boots that almost reach herknees, and a top that leaves very little to the imagination. I’m dressed injeans, an off-shoulder top that isn’t too snug, and flat boots. I don’t know howlong gigs usually last, but I’m pretty sure I won’t get blisters, which is mytop priority.

“Ready?” I ask with more enthusiasm than I actually feel.

Mandy turns and her gaze swipes over me. Her thoughts arevisible in the frown across her forehead, and she opens her mouth before I canstop her. “That’s your version of sexy?”

“It’s my version of being interested enough to listen. God.You just can’t help yourself.”

Her shoulders are tense with something.

“What’s wrong?”

She hesitates, her back still turned on me. “I just—”

She sniffles.

“Mandy? Oh, my God.” I wrap my arm around her shoulder andpull her in a hug. “Are you crying?”

She shakes her head even though two tears are trickling downher cheek.

“Is something wrong? Are you okay?”

Now I’m worried sick. Something’s wrong with her, I justknow it.

“It’s happening,” Mandy whispers.

“What’s happening?” I frown.

Is a hurricane hitting Montana after all and we’re going todie?

“Mile High,” she speaks between sniffles. “I’ve been tryingto get tickets for ages, but they were always sold out. Tonight we’re finallygoing to see them. I cannot believe it’sthatday.”

Oh. My. God.

I stare at her, dumbfounded. She must have gone ape-shitcrazy because no grown-up woman in her right mind would cry at the prospect ofseeing some dudes wail into a microphone, no matter how talented they are. Imean, seriously, that’s so Europe in the Dark Ages, when people had notelevision and the Internet to entertain them.

“God, you scared me. I thought you were sick or something.”I slap her shoulder playfully. “You’re a lawyer, for fuck’s sake. You’re cleverand educated. Get a grip, or you’re going alone.”

“Thank you.” She smiles and nods.

I stare at her, expecting more drama. When none comes, Iheave a sigh.

“Don’t mention it. You know I’ll always be here to talk somesense into you. That’s what friends are for,” I say and let go of her.

“No. Thank you for winning the tickets,” Mandy says. “Now,if you could get changed…”

I shake my head in disbelief, hold up a hand, annoyed, andleave the kitchen, not in the least interested if she’s following.

“What did I say?” Mandy calls after me.

“Where do I even start?” I yell back. “The answer is no. Iwon’t be bullied into wearing a slutty outfit just because you want to meet theband.”

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