"Sorry I'm late, I just found out some schmuck took out my taillight," Last thing I needed before an audition. Jackass didn't even leave a note. At least he had a vanity plate.
"That's OK, your partner's already in the booth. His name's Eion Foley," the tech says. I stop in place. Foley? That's the name.
"How's it going there?" A sweet brogue drifts from inside the recording booth. I look up. There, in front of me, is a man with deep blue eyes, pale skin, and rich, black hair. He'd grown out of boyish awkwardness years ago, but the shyness still hid in his smile.
"Was it your car I hit?" he says, his eyes asking forgiveness, but his mouth, the smirk and the way his teeth hold on to his lower lip make me wonder if I really care.
