The door bursts open and Mandy’s head pops in, a huge smile on her lips.
“Howdy!” Dressed in a blue shirt and brown cowboy boots, she looks like she’s just stepped out of a western movie. Her hair’s curled into waves, which can only mean one thing: she’s found a hair stylist and shops.
“What are you doing here?” I wipe my wet hands on a towel before Mandy engulfs me in a tight hug.
“That’s exactly the question I thought I’d hear.” Mandy laughs and lets go of me. “I can tell you guys had a great time and didn’t miss me one bit.”
“No, I’m just surprised. I didn’t expect you back so early. What happened?”
“Plans change,” she says and her cheeks flush.
There’s definitely reason to press her for details, but I don’t get a chance because her gaze falls on the dishes in the sink. “What are you doing?”
“House chores.”
“You hardly ever do chores.” She makes it sound like I’ve just committed a major crime. “You must really love the guy.”
I take a deep, shaky breath. “I don’t—”
“Hmm.” As though she doesn’t believe me, she cuts me off and waves her hand. “Come on, let’s get you dressed.”
I look down at myself. Last time I checked, I wasn’t naked. Maybe my brain switched off and I forgot to put on some pants?
“I mean something nice and sexy,” Mandy says, as though reading my thoughts. “And hurry up. We need to leave.”
“Why?” I eye her, amused. “What’s going on? Is someone chasing you?”
“No.” She rolls her eyes, grinning. “I have good news and good news. Which one do you want to hear first?”
I close my eyes and groan inwardly. “Please don’t tell me it’s about the concert.”
“It is.” Mandy lets out an excited squeal. “Mile High are performing tonight.” She jumps up and down like a child. “God. I’m so excited.”
“That part’s obvious. What’s the other good news?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” She pauses for effect. “Get this. We got first-class tickets. The best of the best view.”
“Swell.” I fight the urge to bail. “How do you know?”
“As soon as Josh drove me to Helena, I called the concert venue. Josh introduced me to someone who met someone who knows someone who’s friends with someone—”
“Get to the point,” I cut her off.
“And that someone knows where they’re staying.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me.
I frown because I really can’t follow. “Who?”
“Mile High.”
Oh, God.
“Please don’t tell me you’re planning on stalking them,” I say. “For God’s sake, you’re a lawyer.”
“No,” she says in that defensive tone of hers that tells me she’s guilty as charged. “I’m talking about knocking on their door and asking for an autograph after the concert. What’s the harm?”
I stare at her. “What’s the harm? Mandy, you sound like a frigging groupie.”
She shrugs. “So what? They’re awesome. Getting their phone number is a major accomplishment, which I intend to fulfill.”
“Oh, God.” I shake my head. At least she’s not hell-bent on hooking up with them. But I might be wrong on that one.
“Apparently, they’ve been here all along.” She leans closer and lowers her voice conspiratorially. “They’re keeping a low profile, you know, small venue and all.”
“Ah.” Now that makes sense. At some point, even the greatest egomaniac will get sick and tired of having cameras shoved in their face and screaming groupies running down their hotel room door. And the band hasn’t met Mandy yet. She’s as obsessive as a fan can be. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if the evening ended with a restraining order.
“I still have no idea why you want to see them,” I say with the enthusiasm of a grumpy turtle. “They’re not even singing live. Everyone knows that.”
“Because it’s my opportunity to get to meet them,” Mandy says. “Hello? Did you hear a word I said? Good tickets. Small venue. I know where they’re staying. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and you’re coming with me. I want to find out everything about them.”
I glare at her.
Apparently, everything about those guys is a huge secret, starting with their identities and the heavy eye makeup that makes them look like a badass copycat version of Green Day.
“But first, you really need to change.” Mandy takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, her annoyance with me obvious. “They’ll never invite us backstage if I’m being accompanied by—”
“The not-so-hot friend?” I raise my brows, amused.
“No. I’d never say that.” She looks appalled. “I was going to say ‘frumpy’.”
“Frumpy? As in dowdy, dull, homely?” I laugh out loud and almost choke on my laughter at the mortified expression on her face.
“I didn’t mean—”