I open the back door and find the musician leaning against a wall with a ball cap drawn low over his face and a pair of sunglasses that hide his eyes. He holds up a second cup for me. “You asked for a dirty chai, right?” “Thanks.” I happily grab the iced drink from him and take a big gulp. “You know, if you didn’t want to be recognized, I would have suggested meeting somewhere else.” He makes a face. “I thought people wouldn’t take notice.” I can’t help laughing. “Are you joking?” “My agent told me no one would care about who I am here.” I stare at him without blinking. “Are you even aware of
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