LYRICAL UNDERGROUND

      Kensington Publishing Corp.

      www.kensingtonbooks.com

      To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

      LYRICAL UNDERGROUND BOOKS are published by

      Kensington Publishing Corp.

      119 West 40th Street

      New York, NY 10018

      Copyright © 2019 by Lynn Cahoon

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      Lyrical Underground and Lyrical Underground logo Reg. US Pat. & TM Off.

      First Electronic Edition: December 2019

      eISBN-13: 978-1-5161-1026-1

      eISBN-10: 1-5161-1026-9

      Dedication

      To my ‘band’ friends. I’m so glad you made high school bearable.

      Acknowledgments

      Writing about a gentler, kinder Idaho town than I grew up in has got me nostalgic for the good things that happened around my nonfictional town River Vista is modeled after. When I was in high school, we had a state conference for Future Homemakers of America at the Sun Valley Inn. I don’t know who pulled the strings for that one, but the one thing I remember about that conference is going out to the hot tub at night and watching the snow fall all around us. The moment in time was magical, so when my publisher asked for a NYE novella in Angie Turner’s Farm-to-Fork world, I knew I needed to recreate that moment in time for my characters too.

      As always, big thanks to the Kensington team. Esi, Alex, Larissa, and all the others behind the scenes that make my books as pretty as they can be. Praise to them and their knowledge. Jill Marsal, thanks for getting me through my own rough patch. Sometimes all you can say is thanks. It doesn’t feel like enough.

      Chapter 1

      Sunlight streamed into the oversized kitchen and sparkled on the marble floor. Angie Turner, owner of the County Seat, watched as Hope Anderson, County Seat’s dishwasher—and soon-to-be newest chef, starting next summer—took in the over-the-top room. Angie had to admit, it felt a little intimidating for her as well. Her home kitchen was the size of this place’s pantry. And she could have fit two of the County Seat kitchen in the opulent space. The rich were different. And once the party was over tonight, this would be their kitchen for a week.

      Felicia Williams, Angie’s partner, had set up this catering job with one of her old boarding school buddies. Not only were they getting paid, they got use of the cabin for a week after the event. Angie had all kinds of projects planned for her kitchen staff. She just wished all of her cooks had been able to attend. Nancy Gowan had her kids this week and had bowed out of the job. Which Angie understood. Nancy worked so much it wasn’t easy for her to find quality time to spend with her kids. But it would have been nice.

      “Who did you say owned this place? The Kardashians?” Hope bounced over to Felicia, who was sitting at the table planning out the setup of dinner service. “I can’t believe you went to school with this guy. What are you? Wealthy?”

      Felicia didn’t look up from the notebook where she was writing. “My parents are. I’m not. And Cliff wasn’t either until his band took off. Look, you can’t go all starstruck when you meet people tonight. They’re just normal everyday people who have a band.”

      “And live in places like this. My parents’ house could fit in this kitchen.” Hope held out her arms. Then she saw Felicia’s glower. “Fine, I’ll stop being such a peasant and ogling. What’s the name of the band? Do I know them?”

      “Probably not. They were really popular a few years ago.” This time Felicia did look up and met Angie’s gaze. She sighed. “Fine. Cliff’s the lead singer for Postal Mutiny.”

      Hope’s eyes widened even more, and she sank into a chair. “OMG. Cliff Henry? That Cliff? He’s like a rock legend. I thought Postal Mutiny broke up?”

      “They did. Now they’re going to do another album. This dinner is to celebrate their signing the contract in the California studios on Monday. They’ll leave here for L.A. first thing in the morning, and we’ll have the house to ourselves for a week.” Felicia looked around as they sat in stunned silence. “Come on, guys, don’t tell me you’re all starstruck.”

      Estebe looked up from his tablet. “I am not struck by the stars. I do not know this band.”

      “Well, I do.” Matt Young sank into a chair by Felicia. “This is going to be an amazing way to kick off the new year. Well, actually, end this year, since they’ll