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Nick was sitting in an armchair, his long legs out in front of him, casually spread apart.  On his lap was a file folder.  A blue one.

“Jeff said you wanted to see me,” said Melody.

Nick tapped the file folder with a finger.  “Yes, I wanted to go over some reviews with you.” 

Oh no, thought Mel.  She had a sinking feeling in her stomach that she knew what this was about.  A sound from her left made her look in that direction.  Gus was sitting in a chair with his head down.

Nick handed Melody the folder.  She leafed through the pages.  Nick had highlighted some spots.  Mel knew that he knew.  She looked up from the papers and into his eyes.

“You been pimpin’ me, Mel?” he asked quietly. 

She couldn’t tell if he was angry or hurt.

“It’s not like that,” she said.  “I was just…I…”  She paused.  “Gus didn’t do anything.  I only asked him to…he just did what I asked.”

“Well, that’s his job, isn’t it?” said Nick.  Then, after a long look at the PA, he said, “You can go, Gus.”

Gus stood up and left the room, giving Mel’s arm a quick squeeze of reassurance on the way by.

Nick waited for Mel to talk…to explain.  Gus had told him that she had asked for a list of music critics - the toughest one in each of the cities they would be visiting.  That was all he knew.

“It wasn’t fair…” she began.  She spoke softly and looked at the floor.  Nick had to strain to hear her words.   “They had their minds made up before you ever got there.  I just wanted them to give you a chance.”

“To have an open mind about things?” asked Nick.  This was the phrase that had jumped out at him…the one he had highlighted in several of the articles. 

Mel nodded.  She handed him back the folder.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She had phoned Charlie Burke from the rest stop.  They made small talk for awhile and arranged to meet that night at a club.  Melody asked him what he knew about Sean Hughes.  Charlie told her.  Melody sighed and said she wished there was some way to convince people to give the kid a chance.  Charlie suggested he invite Sean along for a drink.

Charlie introduced him as a music critic.   Sean said ‘pleased to meet you’ to her chest.

“Are you a real music critic or just an MTV-wannabe?” asked Melody, shifting in her chair to give him a good side view.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sean asked.  He dropped into the chair beside her and signaled for the waiter.

“Well, do you go to a concert with an open mind and listen to the music, or are you one of those who has the review all written out beforehand…churns out the same crap as everyone else?”

“I’m a serious journalist,” Sean replied. 

“Good to know,” said Melody, reaching across him for a cocktail napkin.  She blotted some drops of water on the table and twisted the stem of her wine glass between her fingers.  “So Mr. Hughes, tell me about yourself.”

“Sean.  Call me Sean.”

They chatted for a bit, and then he asked her to dance.  He held her a little too close, and she retreated a step.  She excused herself to the ladies room, after the music stopped.  He went back to the table.

“So, I understand we’re going to be seeing each other again tomorrow night,” said Sean when Melody returned to the table.  Charlie had obviously filled in the blanks for him.

Melody smiled at him. “I guess we are, if you’re covering the concert.” 

“Is that what this is about, Ms. Jones?” said Sean, in a frosty tone.  “Are you trying to butter me up for a good review?  Get me to say something nice about the kid?”

“On the contrary, Mr. Hughes,” replied Melody, in an equally frosty tone.  “I am a professional musician, and my work stands on its own merits.  You say the same about yourself.  All I would like is for you to keep an open mind.  Tell the truth…but make sure you’re willing to see it first.”

The two engaged in a staring contest at that point that made Charlie start to get nervous.  Just as he was deciding to step in, Sean threw his head back and laughed.

“Okay, Charlie, I’m gonna have one more dance with Ms. Jones, and then I’m going home to write the review for tomorrow’s concert.”  He laughed at Mel’s wide-eyed look and chucked her under the chin.  “I’m just kidding.”  He took her hand and led her out onto the dance floor.  This time, he kept a respectable distance.

“You gave me something to think about,” he said, when he was leaving.  “I promise you…I’ll keep an open mind.”

“It’s going to be worth it,” she promised.  “It’s a hell of a show.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I want you to stop this,” said Nick.  He had listened to her explanation carefully, without moving, without reacting.  She had never asked for anything, Mel insisted.  She had merely challenged them to have an open mind.

“Yes Sir,” she replied humbly.

Nick laughed.  Melody looked down at him.  “I mean it,” he said, shaking his finger at her.  “When you say, ‘yes sir’, I know you’re not going to.  You’re just shining me.”

Melody shook her head.  “No, really, I’ll stop.  I don’t have to do it anymore anyway.”

“Why not?” said Nick.  “I mean, if it was such a good plan…”

“Yeah, but…all the reviews are good…so even if the critic is a hack, he’ll probably follow the crowd and say it’s good.  And of course, if he’s honest…”  Mel shrugged, “…he’ll say it’s good.”

They looked at each other for a moment.  Nick rose to his feet.  Mel’s heart rose to her mouth.  “Did Rafe put you up to this?” he asked softly.

Melody shook her head.  “No, it was just me.  It just…it just wasn’t fair.”

Nick took a step toward her.  Melody told her feet to run, but they wouldn’t move.

“You owe me a hug,” he whispered.  “I think I need one now.”

Melody stepped into him and put her arms around him.  She squeezed him quickly and went to move away.  But his arms had gone around her and were holding her tight.  Melody whimpered softly, as she felt Nick’s lips on the top of her head.  Help me, her brain cried silently to some unknown rescuer. 

Her savior turned out to be Toby, who chose that moment to knock on the door.  She and Nick sprang apart.

“Come in,” said Nick hoarsely, grabbing the file folder and holding it in front of him.

Toby looked from one to the other.  Mel walked past him to the door.  She turned back to Nick.  “I’m sorry,” she said.  “I was just trying to…”

Nick nodded at her but didn’t say anything. 

Well, good! thought Toby.  Mel had obviously gotten shit for something.  And about time too!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rafe hung up the phone and swiveled his chair around to look out the window.  He had a corner office and a nice view, befitting his status in the company.

What an interesting conversation that was, he thought.  Why the hell didn’t Tom know any of this stuff? Didn’t he have a clue about anything other than the show?  Jesus, didn’t he know that backstage was where the intrigue was?

Melody Jones was turning out to be the choice of a lifetime.  Imagine!  Having the cojones to take on Sean Hughes, of all people!  And Ellis Morton from the Memphis Commercial Appeal, and…well, the list went on.  It was exactly the kind of thing Rafe would have engineered, if he’d thought of it.

Because she thought it wasn’t fair. 

Rafe laughed at that.  Little Pollyanna Jones.  It wasn’t fair.  They were picking on Nicky.  And little 5’4” Mel strapped on her armor and rode to the rescue!

And Nicky!...Nick.  Getting pissed with her when he found out.  That was the most mature thing he’d ever done.  The kid was growing up, that was for sure.  Nick hadn’t said a word to Rafe about giving up the guitar – not one word!  But Rafe knew about the purchase in Spain…and the lessons on the bus. He knew that Toby didn’t like Mel and that Gus would kiss her ass in a heartbeat.

Gus. 

He seemed to be keeping his nose clean.  Rafe couldn’t ask his main man too many direct questions about Gus.  He wasn’t supposed to know him, after all.

His main man. 

Another Rafe Ariando tour de force.  Backstage was where it was at…where the problems developed.  Once the stage show was set, it ran itself.  If there were alcohol or drug problems, they didn’t happen onstage, they happened before the show…or after…or on the bus…  If there were disagreements, or resentments, or love affairs…also offstage. 

And Rafe couldn’t find that out from a review or an interview.  It had to be an insider.  And Rafe’s insider had provided a wealth of information.  The insider had no idea that he was a spy, of course.  He thought he had much loftier motives.

Rafe frowned. 

His insider hedged a little when he talked about Nick and Mel.  Rafe still couldn’t figure out why Nick hadn’t said anything to him about his little ‘Mel is gay’ twist of the truth.  He hadn’t said anything to Tom either.  But Nick knew it wasn’t true.  Rafe saw that at the hospital appearance.  Nick knew he was looking at a woman who might want him, who would at least look back.  And she had looked back.  Rafe didn’t know if it was just the music thing that Tom always talked about.  It could have been.  Rafe only noticed it when they were singing.  But still…

Rafe turned from the window.  He flipped open his daybook to this month’s calendar.  He picked up the tour schedule.  Maybe it was time for a visit.  He picked up a second page from the folder.  Tamara Vance’s schedule.  Rafe didn’t think he could interfere with another one of her photo shoots.  He had done that twice already, once to keep her out of New York and once to get her into Italy.

His finger moved across the page.  Yes, here we go.  Nick and Tamara’s schedules crossed paths here.  Maybe Rafe would join the party, give Melody something to do while Nick and Tamara went at it behind closed doors. 

Toronto.  Canada.  Yes, that was it.  Tamara was doing a fashion show.  Nick would have zero interest in attending that but maybe Mel would like to go.  Maybe Rafe could pick her up another little dress.

Rafe picked up the phone and called Murray.