1 Chapter 1

“Really, guys?”

This was getting to be a habit.

I’d walked in on Pete Crawford—my boss—and Corey Brennerman—his boyfriend—smooching in the office. Their apartment was upstairs.

Pete pulled away briefly to say, “Get your own guy, then, if you’re so hot and bothered,” and went back to kissing the life out of the sexy man on his lap.

“Are you planning on working at all today?” I asked as I checked to see whose pool was on the schedule for the morning.

“Keep your shirt on, buddy. We have time yet,” Pete retorted as he moved Corey off his lap and stood. “What’s your beef, anyway?”

“I just want to get this day over with.” I grabbed the pool net and a few other items and headed for the door. “Later,” I called and left to clean Mrs. Teague’s pool.

I knew I’d acted like an ass, but in my defense, I was having a shitty day. The bluegrass band I was in had broken up over some diva bullshit on the weekend. The leader of the group had always been a bit of a pill, and he had taken things too far this time. Everyone had been fed up. The upside of all this—if there was one—was not having to deal with himanymore.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to get involved with another band just yet. I really loved playing the banjo, and this had been a really cool, long-term gig, despite the egotistical drawbacks. Growling to myself, I arrived at Mrs. Teague’s house, ready to be regaled with gossip and fed peach pie.

* * * *

I returned to the office hours later to find the place empty. Corey was probably out running the errands that Pete hated to do, and then he’d be off teaching at night school. Which left me with nothing to do but answer phones and take messages until Pete’s arrival.

When he walked in, I heaved a huge sigh of relief. “You have a few messages, basically some prospective clients, and one repeat.”

“Thanks.” Pete glanced at me. “What’s wrong, Jimmy? You’ve been in a bad mood all day. Didn’t Mrs. Teague’s peach pie help you feel better?”

I chuckled, despite myself. “It was tasty, as always. I’m just going through a bad patch. The band broke up, and I’m still pissed.”

He looked sympathetic. “Ah, geez, I’m sorry, man. I know how much you love to play. You’ll find another gig, though. Just give it time.” Pete had been to a few of our shows.

“Right now, I don’t know if I wantto be in another band. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” I grabbed my backpack and headed home, a ten-minute walk from where I worked.

My apartment was on the third floor in an older brick building. It was kind of a haven for creative types, with musicians, writers, and artists populating each floor. Which was why I loved it. I could play my banjo most nights without complaints from anyone.

It was warm when I went up to the roof that evening with my beer and a sandwich. It was one of my favorite spots in town, and the view was to die for. A few pieces of furniture dotted the ground, and the heat from the waning sun felt good on my skin.

I sat in a corner and stared at the skyline in the distance. As I chewed my tuna fish snack, I heard the door creak as it opened. I turned to see a guy about my age or a little bit younger carrying a fiddle as he walked in my direction.

When he spotted me, he stopped. “Sorry, man. I hope I won’t disturb you.”

“Naw, it’s fine,” I said. “Company is always welcome. Have a seat.”

He smiled at me. “Thanks.”

I watched as he set himself up on the bench across from me and tuned his fiddle. He started to play “The Devil Went Down to Georgia,” and I almost dropped my food. He was the best fiddle player I’d ever heard, and that was saying a lot, since I’d hung out with some of the most talented of his kind in the region.

I tapped my foot, playing some of the parts in my head that I would add on the banjo to complement his interpretation of the piece. By the time he was done, I felt I’d died and gone to heaven

“Dude, you are fucking awesome. I mean…Goddamn!” I gushed, something I rarely ever did.

He flipped wavy black hair off his face, a bright pink stripe visible down one side, and smiled. “Thanks. It’s one of my favorite songs to play.”

“You totally nailed it, dude. You play anywhere around here?” I asked.