Chapter 13: The Gold Box

By one o'clock on Monday, the ballroom of the Harcourt was full.

Five hundred people in good clothes sat facing a stage with one long white table on it.

On the table were a leather folder, a silver pen set, and a Lantern Records banner draped across the front.

Three cameras stood on the floor, and a fourth hung on a boom above the stage.

I sat at my sound desk on the stage-left riser with my headset on, the way I had sat at every show Beau ever played.

My hands were steady on the faders, and I hadn't eaten since Saturday.

Dot stood by the back doors in a black dress and a hotel lanyard that said Events.

She caught my eye and tipped her head toward the service corridor.

The gold box was waiting behind that door, on a tray with a white napkin over it.

August sat in the first row on the aisle.

There was an empty seat beside him with a card on it that read M. Quist, and he hadn't let anyone take it.

He didn't look at me again after the first nod.

Marilyn sat two rows behind him in her church pearls, holding her phone up to film.

At five to two, Beau came out of the wings in a navy western suit.

He found me across the room and mouthed, "Thanks, babe."

I gave him a thumbs-up, and pushed his microphone up one notch.

Tilly came out behind him in a gold dress with her guitar on her shoulder.

She stopped by my riser on her way to the stool and put her hand on my arm.

"You came," she said, very softly.

"I said I would."

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