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Chapter 7
In the morning, Elizabeth waited with barely veiled impatience while Nigel Peters and Laura Ma
"Is she go
"With hydraulics or high explosives," Elizabeth said, stepping aside so he could see.
"Come on, ducks," Nigel said coaxingly, helping the makeup artist haul the somnolent singer back and forth from bathroom to bed, where they talked over her head as if she was a child. Fio
"Hell, no, she'll sweat herself to death out there," Laura said, flipping through the hangers in the closet. "Have you stuck your nose out the door yet?"
"I'm dreading it," the manager admitted. "All right, the black gauze. It'll look great with your hair, Fio
"I'll get it," Elizabeth said, pleased to get her hands on Fio
"Just the thing, love," Nigel said as the necklace was fastened around Fio
The magic word "public" was just the kind of impetus Fio
"You're meeting a woman called Verona Lambert," Patrick Jones said, reading out of a well-worn binder. "She's been at WBOY ten years, Fee. She's a real fan. I've got a sheaf of photos for you to sign for her and the crew. Be a good girl and do all of them, won't you?" He held out a large manila envelope.
"Right," Fio
Patrick read them off from his list. Fio
Elizabeth admired the staff. They were organized, genuinely concerned for Fio
"Brain food before you ruin your lungs, darling," he said, waving the glass under her nose. "Come on. You can't do an hour on an empty stomach. The cook in the Sonesta made it up just for you."
"Ugh, it's horrible," Fio
"That's all about the staff," said Patrick Jones, with his palms pressed together like an altar boy's. "Verona has the gen on the concert itself. All you have to do is talk about you.Now, remember, Fee, not a word about the attacks. They don't exist, right?"
Fio
"So what brings you to N'Awlins, Ms. Kenmare?" Verona Lambert asked, her voice as smoky as the studio air. She was a chocolate-brown-ski
"Call me Fio