The Rosewoods Rock & Roll Box Set

by Katrina Abbott

  “Don’t worry,” he said to the audience as I exhaled in relief. “You’ll get a full set of our stuff, but I sort of feel like playing something...I don’t know...old school.”

  As he said that, Ted started strumming on his guitar and I glanced across to the other side of the stage as the Wiretap guys were just about to leave the backstage area. Except in that moment, Dave’s entire body stiffened and his head snapped back to look out at the stage. He recognized the song, even from those few opening notes.

  His face went blank and I had a moment of sheer panic, worried he was going to be so very angry at what I’d done. He would know this was my doing, I had no doubt.

  “I don’t know if you all will remember,” Eddie said into the microphone as Ted kept strumming. “But there was this amazing band back in the day called Legion Thunder.”

  A huge roar went up at the mention of Dave’s grandfather’s band.

  A wide grin spread across Eddie’s face. “Yeah, I thought you might know them. Even though it’s been a while, you don’t forget the greats, do you?”

  I felt eyes on me and shored up my courage to look across the stage at Dave. He was looking at me, his head tilted as if to say, “What the hell is going on?”

  Yep, he totally knew it was me. I just smiled back at him and shrugged, waiting for what would come next.

  “Well, you may not realize this, but we lost a member of Legion Thunder recently; Strutts Dempsey, a true legend, if ever there was one. But tonight, you got to witness part of his legacy with his grandson, Will Davidson.”

  Eddie took the mic off the stand and stepped backward on the stage until he could see into the wings where Dave was standing, his guitar still slung over his shoulder, his mouth agape, a forgotten bottle of water in his right hand.

  “Hey, Will,” Eddie said. “Why don’t you put that water down and come play Moonbeams in Her Eyes with us?”

  Dave seemed to be frozen to his spot.

  “C’mon, man,” Eddie laughed. “Don’t make me come and get you.”

  That worked, causing Dave to take a swig of the water and come out of the wings and back onto the stage.

  “You know the song, don’t you?” Eddie teased as he returned his mic to the stand and motioned for Dave to take center stage.

  Dave finally smiled and swung his guitar back around before, without a word, he moved to Eddie’s mic and started playing the song. The song that had made his grandfather a household name.

  The other guys joined in, playing along with the song’s opening and then, like he’d been waiting his whole life to do it, Dave opened his mouth and began to sing.

  I’d heard him sing before, but not like this. Not with his voice thick with emotion and heart, singing for his grandfather and, though maybe he didn’t realize it, singing for himself. If I’d had any doubts about going through the trouble of putting this plan together, they dissolved in that moment.

  “This is what you did, isn’t it?” Dad said from beside me breaking the spell of watching Dave sing.

  Not wanting to miss a second of Dave’s performance, I reluctantly turned my head to face my father. “He said he wished he could have played on stage with his grandfather. I couldn’t make that happen, but I could do this.”

  He nodded and looked back at Dave for a second before asking, “Why didn’t you do it with our guys?”

  I gave him a sheepish look. “Because there was no time or place to rehearse. Also, this is only half of the surprise. I needed to keep it all a secret or it wouldn’t have worked.”

  That earned me another wary look. “Half the surprise?”

  “Um...trust me?” I asked.

  Dad obviously wanted to watch the performance too, because he just muttered, “I guess I have to,” before he returned his gaze to the stage.

  I let out a relieved breath, though I knew I wasn’t completely off the hook; if he or Dave were going to really get pissed about what I’d done, it would be about the second part that was still to come.

  One for the Road

  “Stop looking at the clock,” Sandy leaned toward me and said in a low tone that only I would hear. “You’re making yourself look super nervous.”

  “I am super nervous,” I muttered back. “They’re supposed to be here any minute and I have no idea how this is going to go down.”

  We were at the hotel in the meeting room we’d had set up as a lounge for the after-party, having left the festival shortly after Zen Garden’s encore. We had planned to leave earlier, but the guys wanted to watch the whole show. We’d still made it here first, though, and were now hanging out and eating hors d’oeuvres while we waited for Billy and his band to wrap and join us.

  The guys’ energy was high after such a great concert, but at the same time, the vibe in the room was bittersweet as everyone thought it was going to be Dave’s last.

  “You do know how it’s going to go down,” Sandy said. “Either it will go perfectly, or it will go fubar.”

  “That’s reassuring,” I said dryly.

  She shrugged. “Just remember, no matter how it goes, you can always distract yourself with a Zen Garden. Rake some sand; restore your chakras or whatever. I know I’m going to.” Then she winked.

  “You’re terrible,” I said with a laugh. “That’s not even a good joke. But I love you anyway.”

  “I know,” she said and then her body stiffened as she glanced at the door. “Oh, I think they’re here. Be cool.”

  Right, like that was a possibility, I thought.

  Our security guy was nodding at the middle-aged couple who were standing at the door. The handsome man with striking blue eyes was dressed in a crisp, white button-down shirt with the neck open, tucked into a pair of khakis. The woman beside him was in new-looking jeans and a pretty pink blouse, her short blond hair styled perfectly. They looked stiff, like they didn’t do causal very often, or maybe it was because of where they were.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Davidson,” I said, welcoming them with a big smile, intentionally blocking them from the room, not wanting them to be noticed until I had greeted them. “I’m Vanessa Capri, I’m so glad you could come.”

  “Thank you for inviting us,” Mr. Davidson said, shaking my hand vigorously.

  “Did you enjoy the concert?”

  “Very much,” he said and then turned to his wife, beaming a smile at her. “Didn’t we?”

  She nodded as she fingered her necklace nervously but abruptly stopped when she realized it was her turn for a handshake. “Nice to meet you,” she said. “And thank you for getting in touch with us. I...I have to admit, I am a little surprised. I don’t think either of us realized how big this band was. When our son told us he was signing on, I thought this was just a small, regional thing. I...” She shook her head, her hand lifting to the necklace again as she seemed to lose what she was going to say.

  I opened my mouth to try to plead my case about why Dave needed to stay with the band, but never got the chance.

  “Mom? Dad?” Crap, I thought as Dave came up beside me, making me realize I should have waited for them out in the hall. “What are you doing here?” Then he looked over at me. “Nessa? What’s going on?”

  I cleared my throat as I figured I may as well get it out now, since he was unlikely to murder me in front of all these people, especially his parents. “I invited them. I wanted them to see how talented you are.”

  He blinked at me several times before he turned back to his parents. “Wait. You were at the concert?”

  His mother’s eyes were filled with tears as she nodded.

  “We were,” Mr. Davidson said. “Though we wish you had invited us, we were amazed that you...how talented...how did we never know how amazingly talented you are?”

  Dave’s eyes flicked apologetically to his mother, which said everything about why he’d kept it to himself.

  “Me,” she said with a sigh as she wip
ed at her tears with her fingers. I reached over to the buffet table and grabbed a napkin, handing it to her. She nodded in thanks and then dabbed at her eyes, saying. “It’s my fault because of my father. You kept this all a secret from us because of him.”

  Dave was frowning, emotion raw on his face. “Not all of it,” he said. “I didn’t keep all of it a secret. You knew I was playing with the band.”

  His mother nodded. “Yes, but only the barest of details. I...we,” she corrected as she glanced over at her husband. “...never knew you were so good. I think you hid that from us on purpose.”

  Dave’s head dropped, which was as much of an admission as if he’d said so.

  “But you spoke to my father—Tony,” I said, “Before the tour.”

  Mr. Davidson nodded. “Yes. But that was to reassure us that this wouldn’t be a big excuse to party. I don’t think there was mention of all this, the magnitude...”

  “I was just supposed to be filling in,” Dave said with a shrug.

  “What you did tonight,” his mother said, her voice reedy as more tears pooled in her eyes and overflowed. “He would have been so proud. He would have loved that so much.”

  A sniff escaped Dave as he nodded, and I knew that was my cue to push them all out into the hall before what was supposed to be a friendly reunion became a big emotional scene, drawing the attention of the other guys.

  “Why don’t you finish this conversation outside,” I said, pressing a palm to Dave’s back to gently guide him out into the quiet back hallway of the hotel’s conference wing that didn’t seem to get much use after business hours.

  The three of them shuffled out without argument, leaving me to trust that my meddling would produce the result I was hoping for.

  “What’s going on?” my father said, sidling up to me with a plate of apps in his hand. I plucked a cherry tomato off his plate and popped it into my mouth, chewing it before I said, “Dave’s...I mean, Will’s parents are here.”

  His eyebrows went up. “And since this is the first I’m hearing of it, I presume this is your doing? The second half of your surprise to go along with that stunt at the concert?”

  “Maybe,” I said wryly.

  He looked out toward the door, but Dave and his parents had moved away so he couldn’t see. “Going okay?”

  “Better than okay, I think.”

  “That was a risk.” He picked up a carrot stick and swirled it through the puddle of dip on his plate.

  “A calculated one,” I responded, not letting on how very nervous I’d been.

  “You shouldn’t have done this. Especially not on your own.”

  I didn’t let on that Sandy had helped a little. As his daughter, he had to forgive me. “I didn’t think you’d be on board,” I said “I’ll beg forgiveness now. And before he gets here with the Zen Garden guys, I should tell you that Billy knew, obviously, as he had his guys go along with it, but he wasn’t happy about it. I told him I’d take the heat, though, so don’t be mad at him.”

  My father’s mouth turned up into a smirk. “I won’t. I know how persistent you can be—I actually feel bad for him.”

  I smiled, not bothering to tell him how little convincing Billy had needed when I’d explained what I wanted to do.

  He looked up at the door again. “So this plan of yours...think it’ll work?”

  I shrugged. “No idea. Only time will tell.”

  With another nod, he turned to smile at me. “Well, I don’t like how you did it, especially since you kept me in the dark. But even if it doesn’t work, thank you for trying.”

  Then he smacked my hand before I could steal another one of his tomatoes.

  A little while later, Billy and the rest of Zen Garden arrived. The guys ate and mingled, playfully trash talking each other while it was obvious they all respected each other as musicians and now, as friends.

  When they realized Dave wasn’t around, my dad explained that he was taking a bit of time with his parents, but that he’d be back, so everyone just accepted that and carried on.

  It didn’t take long for Sandy to get herself a seat on the couch between Ted and Eddie and when I caught her eye from the buffet table and lifted an eyebrow, she patted the sofa cushion next to her, implying I should come sit between her and Eddie.

  I just shook my head. But then five minutes later, when I was tired of anxiously glancing out into the hallway, waiting for Dave to return, I headed over and wedged myself into the spot.

  Sandy patted my thigh. “So we’re the meat in an Edward sandwich, what do you think of that?”

  “Huh?” I said staring at her, wondering if someone had brought booze to the party.

  She rolled her eyes and pointed at the two guys in turn. “Edward and Edward.”

  Ted, whose full name was obviously Edward, chuckled as I cringed. “Sandy, that joke is even too lame for you.”

  She leaned into Ted and said, “My Edward thought it was funny.”

  I wasn’t so sure, but he gave her an indulgent smile. I ignored that she’d called him her Edward, not wanting to touch that with a ten-foot pole.

  “Hey,” Eddie (who was most definitely not my Edward) said, smiling down at me. “Good turn you did for Will earlier.”

  I nodded, resisting the urge to look at the door again. “I think so.”

  “He played that song like it’s in his soul,” he said.

  “I think it is in his soul. But playing it on stage was good for him—a great tribute to his grandfather. Thanks for playing along, by the way.” Since I’d arranged it all with Billy, I hadn’t had a chance to thank the guys.

  “Of course,” Eddie said with a smile and as I looked up at him, I smiled back, his hazel eyes crinkling at the corners. God, he has nice eyes, I noticed suddenly.

  And then he gave me a slow wink.

  All the contempt I had for musicians that had faded in the last few days came rushing back, because seriously? Was this guy blatantly hitting on me in this brightly-lit room full of people that included my father? I was about to get up, when he grunted. “Uh, sorry. Something in my eye.”

  As I watched, he squinted and blinked, finally able to extricate the something. He let out a relieved sigh. “Stupid eyelash,” he said, holding up a finger topped with the offending tiny hair. “Amazing how something so tiny can create such a problem.”

  “No kidding,” I muttered.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” I said, not wanting to have to explain to him why I was anti-eyelash.

  He held his finger up in front of me. “Want to make a wish?”

  I glanced at the door and then back at the eyelash before I made my wish and, once I nodded, together we blew it off his finger.

  “So,” he said a moment later. “How long have you worked for your dad?”

  “Not long,” I said, “I’m just filling in for his tour manager, there was an accident right before tour and she hurt her—”

  Sandy laughed really loudly at something then, jostling into me, which pushed me into Eddie. “Oh, sorry,” I said, steadying myself to keep from head-butting him.

  He glanced down at where my palm was still on his chest and then looked up at my face, cocking his head as he lifted his eyebrows.

  “Gah! Sorry again,” I blurted as I quickly removed my hand.

  He seemed to take my inappropriate touching as some sort of signal. “It’s getting crowded in here,” he said, his eyes narrowing a little as he looked down at me through the many lashes he still had left.

  I thought about what Sandy had said about finding a distraction amid the Zen Garden guys and I had to admit, in that moment, I was not averse to using their lead singer for just that purpose. It had been a long, busy stretch on tour and finding a little alone time with a hot rock star—one that I didn’t share a bus with—suddenly sounded very appealing.

  “Want to get s
ome air?” I said impulsively.

  He smiled and nodded as we both stood. I glanced around the room, glad that my father was facing the other way as he, Billy, and a few other guys from the Zen Garden crew sat together, talking and laughing, so he wouldn’t notice me stepping out.

  We were halfway to the door when I began to have a change of heart. I wasn’t Sandy. I didn’t really want a distraction. I was just about to turn to tell Eddie I’d changed my mind when Dave came into the room

  “Oh hey,” I said, looking past him only to see he was alone. “Where are your parents?”

  “They left,” he said, not seeming to notice that Eddie and I were standing together. “But uh, can I talk to you for a minute?”

  I glanced over at Eddie, who just shrugged and sidestepped over toward the food table. “Sure,” I said, secretly relieved as I turned my back on Eddie. “What’s up?”

  “In private,” Dave said, nodding over his shoulder toward the door.

  I nodded and followed him out to the hallway, thinking he’d stop just outside the meeting room, but he didn’t. “Down here,” he said as he continued. “It’s too noisy there.”

  My heart started to race as I began to worry that he was taking me somewhere private to freak out about what I’d done and I suddenly wished for a more public arena. Not that I thought he would hurt me, but now I was second-guessing how well I’d thought the night had gone for him. A simple ‘thank you’ didn’t require privacy.

  He pushed open a door to a meeting room at the end of the hall and held it open for me. I ducked past him and he followed me in, pulling the door closed. It was a small boardroom, most of the lights off except some overhead pot lights that had been dimmed, reminding me of a dark Italian restaurant.

  I laughed nervously as I turned toward him. “Is this supposed to be romantic—”

  Dave’s mouth landing on mine halted me mid-sentence. I was about to pull away in surprise, but his hands came to my cheeks and something in my brain short circuited.

  He made a humming noise in his throat that did something to my insides—incinerating all thought and reason as his lips moved against my mouth. I inhaled his scent, both familiar and exciting as it enveloped me. Then his tongue was there, tasting my lips until I opened and deepened the kiss, my eyes rolling back as I allowed myself to savor what I’d wanted to finish since the photo shoot in Times Square.