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It was like their first meeting all over again, only with more clothes. Jean could only stare at Charlie, who had taken her attempt at a knock-knock joke and turned it into so much more. This was a different kind of nakedness, but she was transfixed all the same.

A drumbeat started on stage, slower than the pounding of Jean’s heart. “Your dad’s looking for you,” she told Charlie, since he wasn’t paying attention to anything but her.

It felt like she was walking on lily pads, barely maintaining her footing on the shifting surface of this conversation. She needed time to wrap her head around everything he’d told her about his past before she could dig into her present feelings—much less discuss the future.

“You should probably go over there,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t spot it for the evasion it was.

“Only if you come with me.”

So much for her plan to sneak off and scream at the moon until the churning in her head subsided. She nodded at him to lead the way.

From behind, Jean watched Charlie’s shoulders tense the closer they got to the stage. The music grew louder with every step, the lights more blinding. She slipped her hand into his, giving a quick squeeze to say I’m right here .

Mr. Pike was vibrating with excitement when they finally reached his side.

“This is it, Charlie boy. Everything we’ve worked for. What a moment! Are you loving this or what, Phil?” he asked, turning to his other side.

Daddy K gave Jean one of his bedroom looks, gaze flitting to the hand Charlie was still holding before he smiled at her again.

A guitarist joined the drummer on stage, adding a new layer to the staccato beat of the drum.

Anticipation was building into something thick enough to bite, colored lights flashing their own rhythm.

Even this audience of middle-aged beverage moguls was caught in the swelling tide, joining in on a slow clap that was almost in sync.

Girlfriend knows how to make an entrance , Jean thought as the dancers and backing vocalists took their places one by one. She cheered for her new friends, and Pax waved back as the clapping turned frantic. A flurry of movement at the far end of the stage could only mean one thing.

A spotlight flared to life, illuminating…

“Smithson?” Charlie said, as Jean’s least favorite person walked over to the microphone stand.

“Talk about anticlimactic.” She couldn’t believe he was doing the intro instead of Charlie or his dad. Then again, making himself the center of attention was vintage Smithson.

“Dad—” Charlie started to say. Mr. Pike shushed him, staring at Smithson like he was about to explain the secret of life.

“Can I get the lights up?” Smithson held a hand over his eyes, squinting into the darkness. The audience muttered as floodlights turned the atmosphere from rock concert to high school football stadium.

Pent-up excitement leaked away like a public fart. Jean caught the dancers and musicians shooting each other WTF looks.

Not good said her instincts. Beside her, Charlie shifted restlessly, apparently sharing Jean’s sense of impending doom.

Smithson held up his hand for silence. “Folks, I’m afraid I have some bad news. The concert is canceled.”

Mr. Pike laughed, like it was a joke.

“I know it’s disappointing.” Smithson made a fist, pressing it to the center of his chest. “We’ve got a major security breach on our hands. Someone violated the NDA, and Adriana isn’t comfortable performing under those conditions.”

Jean’s bullshit detector was blaring. It wasn’t just the phony heartfelt delivery. She didn’t believe Adriana would have gone to Smithson for help. He was much too smarmy to fool someone who’d cut her teeth in the entertainment industry.

“Gentlemen, you know what to do.” Smithson pointed into the audience.

Like everyone else, Jean looked around to see who he was talking about. It wasn’t until she’d been flanked by the twin monoliths of Adriana’s security detail that it hit her. She was Smithson’s target.

“That isn’t Sockless Tommy’s niece,” Smithson announced, with unmistakable relish. “Not only did this stranger infiltrate our gathering, she also smuggled in a member of the press.”

Oh please . Jean rolled her eyes at the gasps of dismay. It wasn’t like she’d exposed their secret sex cult. She would have bet her last five dollars this was payback for beating his ass at poker.

“Sorry, kid,” the shorter guard said. “It’s time to go. Your friend’s waiting at the house.”

Her friend? Oh shit. Hildy. Jean hoped her wince wouldn’t be taken as an admission of guilt.

Charlie looked from his shell-shocked father to Jean, expression troubled. She waited for him to throw her under the bus. From what she’d seen of their father-son dynamic, there was no way he was going to defy his dad. It might even be a bonding moment for them: disposing of the riffraff.

He drew himself up to his full height. “She’s not going anywhere.”

It took Jean a few seconds to process the words. “I’m not?”

“Unless you want to,” Charlie amended. “It’s your call.”

Smithson hopped down from the stage, pushing people aside until he reached Mr. Pike. “What’s the holdup?”

“She’s my guest,” Charlie said. “And I don’t believe she did anything wrong.”

“Or at least not that ,” Jean put in. “The NDA thing.”

Charlie nodded as if she’d made his point for him. “Jean can stay as long as she wants.”

“Sounds like this is a family matter,” Mr. Pike said, loud enough for all the people staring at them to hear. “We’ll take a brief intermission and be right back. Why don’t you all have a drink? Try the first ever batch of Silent Storm Centennial IPA!”

Jean didn’t know whether to be impressed or skeeved out that Charlie’s dad had managed to turn the moment of crisis into a PR opportunity. Naming a beer after his son’s reputed sex ballad was certainly a choice.

“Dad—”

“Not here,” Mr. Pike said through a toothy grin. “We’ll talk about this inside.”