"What are you working on?" Luc asked. "Every time you have a spare moment, you're tapping away on your laptop."

It was a few days later, and Luc had just returned to their hotel from a rehearsal. His shows started tomorrow night, and he was rehearsing a lot.

"Oh, not much, just a possible article for the magazine," Haley answered. "I'm thinking of doing a piece on the European leg of your tour, a behind the scenes sort of thing?" Haley had decided that sticking as close to the truth as she could would be the safest course, with the least chance of getting tangled in a lie.

Luc smiled at her, pleased. "That's a marvelous idea," he declared. "I could even give you some quotes, if you like. Would this help you?"

"That would be great," Haley answered, mustering a smile. "But let's see if there's actually a story before you commit yourself, okay?"

"Whatever you say." Luc sat down next to her, and Haley closed her laptop.

"I don't like to share my work before I've finished a rough draft," she explained.

"I understand completely. Sometimes I like to share a work in progress with someone, but sometimes I don't want anyone to hear or see my work until I've completed it," Luc responded with a nod. "So," he continued, "what did you do all day? While I was at the venue?"

Haley shrugged, causing Luc to notice her lovely shoulders, newly tanned from their time out exploring the city. "I walked around for a bit, wrote some letters and post cards, ate the most marvelous salad for lunch, then came back here to work."

"You wrote letters?" Luc repeated, raising his eyebrows. "Like actual letters? On paper?"

"Yeah, there's a beautiful old post office right down the street," Haley responded, nodding.

"Well, first of all, the concierge here at the hotel could mail anything for you that you wanted," Luc said, shaking his head. "No need to go to a post office. Secondly, I don't think I know anyone who actually writes letters anymore."

"Are you making fun of me again?" Haley asked, sitting up. "I love going to the post office, it's gorgeous, like I said. And the old woman who works there, Gilberta? She's so interesting and nice."

"Interesting and nice? How do you know how nice or interesting she is?" Luc countered, sitting up himself. This was fun. "You don't speak the language?"

"Well, it's a funny thing with Italian," Haley said, warming to her topic, eyes shining. "If communication is the ultimate goal, then her minimal English, along with my minimal Italian, are enough, as long as we throw the hand gestures in. Gilberta wants to communicate with me, she wants to talk to me, and that makes all the difference."

"So what's so interesting and nice about her?" Luc asked.

"Her son is in medical school at Columbia," Haley responded. "He's studying cardiology. And she has four cats, all named after a member of the Beatles."

"Cardiology?" Luc was astounded. "How did you communicate that word? I don't think I even know that word."

"Don't be an idiot," Haley answered with a laugh. "It's just 'cardiologia', nearly the same as the English. Plus, she said cuore, while pointing at her heart." Haley sat back, complacent. "See what I mean about communication? She liked my dress, too, the one with the sunflowers? She said I was una bellissima ragazza, isn't that nice?"

"Very, very nice," Luc agreed, smiling at her.

Today she was wearing a tank top and shorts, and her feet were starting to get tan marks from the straps of her favorite sandals, a fact which seemed very dear to Luc. He thought Haley had enchanting feet, with her little toes with the pink nail polish.

He blinked at his thought, drawing his eyebrows together.

Enchanting feet? Had he really just thought that? Was he losing his mind?

He shook his head, as if to clear his head.

"What?" Haley asked, noticing. "What weird thought were you just thinking?"

"Hm? Oh nothing." Luc could tell he was blushing, and hoped Haley wouldn't notice. "I was just thinking, uh, that I need new socks."

"New socks?" Haley repeated. "Are you serious?"

"It was a weird thought, like you said," Luc defended himself. "You're the one who insisted I tell you, so there you have it."

Haley shook her head, grinning.

"Hey," she said, changing the subject. "Could I come with you to your rehearsal tomorrow? Just hang out?"

"The show's tomorrow night, so it's not a rehearsal, per se, it would be the sound check, though that can end up being sort of like a rehearsal, I suppose. Anyway, of course you can come, though it will be a long day," Luc warned. "It's the first sound check, and Lewis has to do his as well, so it will be hours of set up and checking levels and all that. You still want to come?"

Haley nodded her head. Hopefully she could find the beginnings of her story backstage.

"Okay, done, then. You'll accompany me to the sound check tomorrow. I'm just curious, though, why you want to come?"

Haley swallowed. "I don't know, I don't have much to do tomorrow, I guess, and I'd like to get some color for my piece if I could, you know?"

"Like talking to the crew? Seeing what it's like backstage? Things like that?"

"Yeah," Haley agreed, nodding. "Exactly."

"Hopefully no one tells you anything embarrassing, or does something bad," Luc said, grinning.

"Does that happen? I mean, do people do bad things? Embarrassing things?"

"Not usually so soon, we're just starting, after all. Usually people are pretty focused at the beginning, concentrating on doing their jobs, working out the problems?" Luc crossed his legs. "It's after all that, when people have their routines down, that things start to happen."

"Like what?"

Luc shrugged. "People form relationships, start hooking up or whatever. Then there's jealousy, and backstabbing, gossiping? In Italian it's called pettegolezzo, which is a much more evocative sounding word, I think. People start getting bored, partying more, stuff like that. It can turn into a real mess very quickly if I don't keep an eye on things."

"You?" Haley was surprised. "But don't you have people to handle stuff like that for you?"

"You know the saying 'the fish rots from the head'?" Luc gave her a piercing look. "Well, that's especially true on tour. I have to hold myself to a higher standard, or people start thinking they can get away with things, you understand? So if I'm sloppy drunk all the time, then others start thinking it's okay to be that way also. Or if I'm screwing everything that walks by, then that sets the standard of behavior for everyone else. People are so weak sometimes."

"I see." Haley was nodding.

"I take my career very seriously, it took tremendous effort and the most extraordinary luck for me to get here, so I don't want to 'muck it up,' you understand?"

She continued to nod.

"This can be a problem with Lewis sometimes," Luc admitted. "He doesn't seem to understand that people are looking to him for leadership in these matters. But he should fine tomorrow, things are just getting going, like I said."

"Doesn't he take his career seriously?" Haley asked.

Luc shook his head. "Not really. He got lucky when he was young, like me, but with much less effort, and he's sort of been coasting on his early success."

"Why are you friends with him? Why are you letting him open for you if he's like you say?" Haley's voice held curiosity.

Luc looked at her. "He's been a good friend to me, loyal when others weren't, I suppose. Honestly, this will probably be the last time we tour together, unless he puts out some new material, something better than he has been." He looked sad at the thought.

"So, anyway, enough of this heavy talk." He rose and held his hand out to Haley. "There's a wonderful little bistro I've been wanting you to try. It's run by a couple I think you'll like, they're very nice and interesting."

Haley placed her hand in his and rose. "Yum, sounds fantastic. Should I change? How formal is it?"

"Don't change a thing, you look bellissima. But you should put some shoes on, okay?" Luc squeezed her hand as he joked with her. "I don't think the cobbles would be very kind to your bare feet."

Haley laughed. "Okay, give me five minutes to brush my hair and stuff."

Luc watched her go, admiring the sway of her hips and flexing of her calves, sighing with satisfaction.