No one but me knew why I was actually in the California desert that day.

Nestled deep within the desolate, rocky area was a recording studio.

When a door suddenly opened, a man mistook me for someone he was supposed to be interviewing for a job.

The next thing I knew, I was whisked inside.

The position? An assistant on the upcoming tour for one of America's most famous rock bands.

Pretty exciting opportunity for a twenty-two-year-old, just out of college.

Not surprisingly, I bombed the interview.

When I ended up mistakenly walking into the men's room on my way out, I struck up a conversation with a stranger-not realizing it was the lead singer, Tristan Daltrey.

He seemed to like the fact that I had no idea who he was, that I saw him as a normal person.

That night, I got a call offering me the job.

So began my complicated story with Tristan.

Millions of women loved him.

Yet for some reason, after the shows, he only wanted to hang out with me.

Late-night talks. Casual dinners in his hotel room.

I wasn't supposed to be fraternizing with the band's frontman.

Despite our fifteen-year age difference, Tristan and I had a connection.

But I had a secret.

One that would eventually lead to my leaving the tour.

And one that would lead Tristan and the band straight to the small town where I came from.