Don Pace was more than a little annoyed. He was the band’s manager, not their errand boy. Yet, here he was, in town trying to find a*****e that sold activities for the group to occupy their evenings. He couldn’t deny he was happy to be out of the house for a bit, but it was the lack of respect he hated.
The town of Ashville wasn’t large by any means. The population sign he drove past announced there were about five-thousand residents. Almost small enough for them to change the sign anytime someone was born or passed away, he thought.
Even the main street screamed small town. There were few cars and people waved to him as he drove by. There were no department stores. He understood why a franchise wouldn’t set up shop here, but he couldn’t even find one that was privately owned. Specialty
