She opened a locker and dropped in her purse. "Yes, I'm fine."

Van slipped into his chef's jacket but left it unbuttoned over a white T-shirt, then ran a hand over his spiky blond hair. "Look, Alyssa, you mind a little unsolicited advice?"

Her belly squeezed with dread. She secured her lock and turned to face him. "I suppose not."

He crossed his arms. "You might want to stay away from Marco Vieri."

"What?"

"Guy's got a quick temper and a loner complex a mile wide."

Alyssa shook her head, unable to find words. She'd never heard a less likely description of Marco in her life, despite how uneasy their conversations had been. Frowning, she opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off.

"Look, it's your life. And no doubt he's a hero ten times over." Van's face softened, like he regretted his next words. "But I'm telling you, not everybody comes back from war...right."

Her throat went tight, her gut dropping to the floor and the room doing a little spin around her. "You're wrong," she managed to say, but was he really?

Van frowned. "I don't think so. I'm sorry if I've overstepped." He looked at her for a long moment, then left.

Alyssa shuffled over to the world's ugliest blue couch-clearly a used piece donated to the cause-and sat heavily, her hands falling loosely into her lap. What's going on, Marco? The uncomfortable, forced conversations, the dark circles under his eyes, the anger she felt roiling under the surface... Her first urge was to call Brady. Not that she could, or would. But after all Marco had done for them, the idea he was in trouble or in any way hurting made her insides vibrate with the need to help him, comfort him, just be there in case she could do the littlest thing for him.

"Hey, there you are," came a voice from the doorway.She looked up and found Eric leaning in around the jamb, a bright smile on his face. "You ready to help me?"

Had it been a half hour already? Crap. She'd never managed to make her way to Pete, but she supposed she could do that later. Maybe helping with this would clear her mind and allow her to figure out what to do. "Uh, sure." She pushed off the couch.

"Did you remember to punch in?"

"Oh. No." She looked to the table beside the door, where an ancient beast of a time machine sat below a rack of cards. "Pete didn't have a card for me yesterday." But it was there today. Alyssa pulled it from its slot and held it above the machine. She'd never used one of the old punch machines before. "Like this?"

"Here," Eric said, grasping the card. His fingers brushed hers and Alyssa tensed. Eric was attractive. Nice. Uncomplicated. Yet her body didn't warm to his touch even a little. She couldn't help but compare that with the head-spinning adrenaline rush touching Marco elicited. "Turn it this way. Then slide it in and the machine stamps it."

She did as he instructed. The machine made a loud clacking noise, and then she returned the card to the slot. "Thanks."

"No worries. Come on."

Eric went down the hall to the right with a three-tiered metal cart, but Alyssa's gaze strayed to the left. Was Van right? She'd just assumed Marco would always be Marco, no matter what. Guilt washed over her and she shuddered. How had she not at least considered what he'd gone through?

Hustling to catch up with Eric, Alyssa resolved to keep an eye on Marco. She swore he'd been about to say more before Van interrupted. Maybe she could pull him aside later and finish their conversation.

Two facing doors flanked the next hallway, and at the end was a set of black double doors with big signs reading Quiet-Stage on each. Pete had shown Alyssa the equipment room on the right yesterday. Eric pushed into the room on the left, the green room, and she followed. The lights automatically came on overhead.

"Hey, this is pretty nice," she said. It was twice the size of the lounge and had much nicer furniture-two plush couches sitting perpendicular with a large square coffee table in front of them, a double-wide set of dressing tables with lighted mirrors, and a long table with chairs. A little nook featured a small bar with a full-size refrigerator.

"Yeah, not bad." Eric lit the Sterno pots under the chafing dishes.

"What's back there?" she asked, pointing down a tiled corridor.

"Couple of dressing rooms and bathrooms. Have a look if you want."

Like in the main room, the lights turned on as she explored first the hallway, then two full bathrooms and two dressing rooms with lighted vanity tables and couches like the ones out front. Wow, this was way nicer than the hotel she'd stayed at, though hopefully not better than whatever apartment she'd ultimately rent. Alyssa smiled to herself at the thought and returned to the main room.

Eric was loading water bottles and soda into the fridge. He smiled as he passed her, hands full. "You could almost live in here, huh?"

She did another scan around the room. "Pretty much. So, what can I do to help?"

"Let's get the food started first."

Once the water in the pans heated, Eric dropped in large trays of appetizers, pasta, barbecued ribs, and chicken. Meanwhile, she set out several cold salads, the plates, and silverware.

When they were done, Eric picked up a pile of papers. "Pete said you hoped to eventually work on the event side of the house, so let me show you this."

Alyssa came around the table and peered down at the sheet in his hands. Checkmarks preceded each entry on a long list.

"Pete places a lot of emphasis on keeping the bands happy," Eric continued. "All the special requests they make are on this spec sheet. It's very important to double-check it before they arrive. You need to go down line by line and make sure nothing got skipped. Sometimes they ask for some weird shit."

Alyssa chuckled.

He cast her an embarrassed glance. "Oh, man, sorry about that."

"No need. My brother's in the army. I've heard worse. Trust me."

"Oh, yeah? Over in Iraq?"

"More Afghanistan, I think. He's Special Forces, so I never really know."

Eric paused in the middle of his checklist. "Hey, I think Vieri was Special Forces, too."

"Yeah. He was. He and my brother were on the same A-team."

His gaze narrowed. "Did you know him before you worked here?"

"Marco? Yeah. Most of my life."

Eric made a noise low in his throat as he busied himself with gathering lids and trash. "I think we're all set. Band will be here in twenty minutes, so we should clear out. Any questions?"

Oookay. First Van's warning, now Eric's weirdness. Her heart felt heavy that these men had such a jaded view of Marco. Maybe she really didn't know him anymore. The thought created a sharp emptiness in Alyssa's chest. She followed Eric and the cart out the door. "Who cleans that up at the end of the night?"

He grimaced. "Whoever draws the short straw."