Angst

She grabbed a wet cloth and came out from behind the counter at Scrappe. Tom and Eric were there sitting on the two pumpkin-colored chairs near the front window. Tom had said no more than two words to Kayla since he came in and it was driving her nuts.

Was he playing games with her now? Served her right. She had, after all, kept a huge secret from him.

Cloth in hand, Kayla went over to the round cafe tables and started washing them, hoping she wasn't too obvious.

With every table she washed, she got closer to the front windows and closer to Tom.

"Andrea wants us to come out to Vegas," Eric told him. "She said she'd book us some gigs at the casinos. A few on the weekend and we'd be able to vacation the rest of the week. Sounds nice, don't it?"

"Dude," Tom said, shaking his head, "that ain't our scene. I don't know. No one knows of us out there and even if they like our style they won't fly all the way here just to see a few more gigs. You know?"

Yes, good thought, Tom. Keep away from those Hollywood starlets and Vegas strippers.

Was that the kind of girl Tom liked? Because if that was the case, he was way out of Kayla's league. She couldn't compete with Hollywood girls with their pearly white veneers and bleached blond hair and stick-thin figures.

Not that she needed to compete with them anyway. She had Tom in the palm of her hands, once.

Tom took a sip from his drink as Eric asked, "Who cares? We'd be going to Vegas!"

Tom shrugged. "Well whatever, man."

When Tom looked over at her, Kayla suddenly realized she'd stopped washing the tables and was now staring at him. She went ill with embarrassment and disappeared in the back room before she did something really stupid.