The person entering, though? She was no man. Nick was glad he was sitting, because this woman would have floored him. Holy fucking hell. She had to be one of the sexiest women on the planet, and that shit he could evaluate in the space of five seconds.
He knew his gaze was one of warm admiration, and there was no stopping it. She was dressed in black—a leather miniskirt over fishnet hose, and the right leg had a hole ripped out on the thigh (fucking hot), a snug black tank over a lacy red bra that peeked out, black gloves with the fingers cut off. But that was just what she wore. The woman herself oozed metal and it took everything Nick had to keep his cock at bay.
Her long black hair flowed down to her shoulder blades. Nick’s gaze couldn’t stop admiring her from head to toe. Sure, she was wearing black but there was plenty of metal on her too—in her belt, all her piercings (which made Nick wonder what else was pierced that he couldn’t see), and her jewelry. Her makeup was dark, too, but it made her icy blue eyes that much more striking. The dark makeup made Nick wonder if she really was in her late twenties (which was what she looked like) or if she was a lot younger.
No matter. Yeah, this chick was hot and definitely looked the part, but the last act had looked great too. The proof would be in the playing, and Nick wasn’t holding his breath. He’d been pretty underwhelmed by the talent they’d seen today.
Val had introduced herself in the time it had taken Nick to give her a thorough once-over, and the woman said, “Yeah, my name’s Sabrina, but my friends call me Brina or Bri. My stage name is Sinna.” She flashed a smile. “Take that however you like.”
Val smiled. “This is Brad and Nick, and they’re also going to be part of Val Hella on guitar and drums. We’re looking for someone who’s going to be a good fit.”
Sabrina smiled. “I know you guys. I love Fully Automatic. Man, it would be an honor to play with you.” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, was there anything specific you wanted me to play? If not, I’ve prepared something.”
“We’re good either way.”
The woman in black walked over to the amp and wasted no time plugging her bass in. It was a shiny blue and black number that appeared to be well-cared-for. Nick was waiting to hear the notes, though—he didn’t give a fuck if the woman took good care of her bass but couldn’t play for shit.
But, just like before with all the others, it only took seconds for Nick to evaluate her playing. She’d tapped out a beat with her foot (a sexy knee-high black boot on it, too) and then began playing a bass line that sounded familiar. It wasn’t until she’d played for a little bit that he realized she was playing something from Last Five Seconds’ repertoire, only she was playing the melody instead of the usual bass part. Then she ripped into something else. Again, it took Nick a few seconds to place that it was a metal—and low-note—version of “You are My Sunshine.” Just as he thought he knew where she was going with it, though, she moved into another tune—hardcore, almost punk, with a thrash beat—and she played through what he was sure was an entire verse. When she got to what should have been the chorus, she switched to what probably was the true bass line (rather than the melody) and she sang. Or screamed, rather. Nick loved her voice—it was raspy and raw-sounding, like Val, only if Val had been gargling glass shards for the past month.
He dropped his pencil to the table and sat back to bask in her noise.
Yeah…he was smitten.
He didn’t care who else walked in the doors. He planned to campaign hard for Ms. Sabrina “Sinna” Moreno. She had his vote. She handled her bass like the weapon it should have been. A good bass was never a nuisance, hardly noticed by listeners when it was being played, but integral—and something that would be missed by those same fans if it was gone. A good bass enriched the sound of a band, made it more robust, and also had a voice of its own. This woman got that, and Nick knew it was a matter of time before some huge band snatched her up.
Why not them? Why not now?
But, as per their earlier agreement, he didn’t say a word and tried not to show his enthusiasm, either. The deal was they’d discuss later—over dinner—what they thought about each prospective bassist, but they wouldn’t say a word until then.
Nick stole a glance at his bandmates and found that he couldn’t read them for shit. They had the poker faces down really well—either that or they weren’t impressed.
When Sabrina finished, Val told her they would call by the end of the week. That was Nick’s first sign. He hadn’t remembered Val making any promises like that to any of the other folks who’d tried out.
So, at dinner that night, they knew they were halfway through auditions. They had another day of tryouts the following day and then they could make their final decision.
Nick had to bring it up then, though. He said, “I don’t know how you guys feel about it, but Sabrina blew the competition away.”
Val smiled and gave him one of her indulgent looks—Nick could tell. She lifted Hayley up onto her lap and said, “She was good, yeah, but we might have someone godlike walk in tomorrow. I don’t want to close myself off to the possibility.” Little Hayley, a mirror image of her dad Brad, wiggled in Val’s arms until she could turn around and look her mother in the face. Val looked through her shiny blue-green eyes at her child and kissed the little girl on the forehead.
Val’s son Chris, a little guy just about ready for school, sat between Nick and the nanny, cute blonde-headed Gracie. Nick and Gracie had hit it off shortly after Brad and Val had hired her. They hadn’t known each other long, but it felt like they’d been friends for a lifetime. Gracie was quiet and demure but always laughed at Nick’s stupid jokes. She was a hell of a boost to his ego. A sweet kid and a good friend. He knew she hung out with some real party animals after hours, and he’d threatened more than once to beat the shit out of them if they ever did anything to Gracie. She’d once called him her guardian angel, and he gladly accepted the title but told her to swear she’d never repeat it in front of others.
That, too, had made her giggle.
Nick loved that woman’s laugh—it was hearty and full of life. In spite of the fact that Nick considered his bandmates to be solid close friends, he was starting to think Gracie was his best friend. He got the feeling that she felt the same.
He smiled at her before he said, “Yeah, I know there could be someone else who’s even better. But—for now—does it hurt to acknowledge that the woman was kick ass?”
Brad nodded. “She was very good.”
“Thank you.”
Val shot him a look—part playful, part watch it, mister. “Yes, but we’re not done yet. We have just as many people trying out tomorrow.”
“Yeah, and if they’re as lackluster—or as shitty—as what we witnessed today, then I definitely think Ms. Sabrina’s got this in the bag.”
Gracie said, “So you might have someone already?”
Brad said, “We auditioned quite a few people today, but the woman Nick’s talking about, this bassist who’s played for a few local bands, really did smoke the rest of the competition.”
Val grumbled. “I’m sure her looks didn’t hurt.”
Nick laughed. “Yeah, I’m a visual creature. I find looks stimulating…but she would’ve ruined the image in an instant if her playing had sucked. I mean…look at Metal Mike. He totally would have fit right in with the band, but he was awful.”
“Metal Mike?”
“Yeah, you know…the guy who played right before Sabrina.”
“Oh…Les something or other. Yeah, nice guy. He seemed pretty rusty, though.”
“Rusty? You’re too kind. I don’t think he’d know an E string from a hole in the ground.”
Brad shook his head. “That might be true, but the guy himself had said something about having a hard day and asked for another chance.”
“No. You only get one chance. You fuck that up? Get back to the end of the line.”
Gracie raised her eyebrows. “Harsh.”
It was then that Ni
ck remembered he was in the presence of children. He would die if he heard the F-word tumble out of Hayley’s tiny heart-shaped mouth. “Sorry.”
“We’re used to your harshness, drummer boy.”
Nick couldn’t help but grin at Gracie. “No, I meant for the four-letter word…in the presence of children.”
Chris cleared his throat and said, “Daddy Ethan said I can’t say bad words till I’m older. Like a driver’s license. I have to learn it and earn it.”
Everyone around the table laughed, even though Val looked like she was only half amused. Nick settled back and ate the deli fried chicken and mashed potatoes, basking in the warmth of these people. These folks right here—they were his family, his life, and they meant more to him than they’d ever know.
Chapter Two
FINALLY, THEY’D MADE it through all the warm bassist bodies, and Sabrina still put the rest of the candidates to shame. Val continued to act reluctant to name her as the band’s bass player, though. She wanted to put the woman through the paces. She called Sabrina and invited her to a jam session in their studio, a building on Brad and Val’s property where they did a lot of the initial recording for Fully Automatic—and soon Val Hella—as well as their practice sessions.
It was a Saturday afternoon in early summer. The kids and Gracie played in the backyard between the house and the studio, and Brad and Nick were setting up and getting ready while Val waited in the house for Sabrina to show up. Nick had made sure to look a little more metal than usual. Most of the time, he’d kick back in a t-shirt and jeans unless they were onstage, but he wanted to look the part for Sabrina. He still wore jeans and a Carcass t-shirt, but he made sure to wear the wallet chain and biker boots instead of sneakers. He’d considered pulling his now-long black hair back in a ponytail like he often did when the weather was bordering on hot, but he thought having it long and flowing was more metal. He even thought about lining his blue eyes in black and knew that was pushing it. Bad enough that he’d pained his fingernails black the night before. He usually only did that when they were on tour or sometimes he’d bother if they were filming a video, but he wanted to send a message.
He was hardcore, too.
He almost laughed when he thought it but decided not to worry about it. If he’d had more piercings, he would have gone all out, but then he realized she knew the band. She probably already had formed an opinion of him based upon the band and what she knew of him from the media. Either she already liked him…or she didn’t. Painting his nails or wearing jewelry or putting on more black or metal clothing likely wouldn’t influence her opinion of him either way. She already had a first impression of him.
He could only hope that impression was positive.
After setting up, he and Brad were hanging, just waiting, and soon Val came out of the sliding door onto the deck with Sabrina in tow. She sauntered next to Val, carrying a bass case from her right hand. Nick felt like a cliché, like he was going to have to pick his fucking jaw up off the ground. Sexy Sabrina was wearing a clingy black t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and a plunging neckline. Again, a lacy black bra peeked out. She was wearing cut-off jean shorts that were just a hair this side of dirty. He imagined if she’d bend over…
Well, he had to stop thinking like that or he was gonna pop a boner and that would be a shitty second impression.
Val and Sabrina were having a great conversation, it looked like, because they weren’t paying much attention to anything but each other. Brad was now sitting outside the studio on a lawn chair, tuning his guitar, a toothpick hanging out of his mouth. Nick almost laughed, because he knew Brad was good enough to be able to tune his guitar without an amp, but it looked funny.
Val paused before crossing the lawn to where he and Nick were to introduce Sabrina to Gracie and the kids. Gracie was her usual sweet self, but Nick knew her well enough to know that she and Sabrina wouldn’t become friends anytime soon. He’d have to try to remember to ask Gracie about that later.
Soon enough, Val and the woman Nick prayed would be a full-fledged band member soon joined him and Brad just outside the studio. Nick stood, glad he’d managed to keep his libido in check, and said, “Good to see you, Sabrina.”
Her voice was cool as she appraised him, but she said, “Nice to see you again. Nick, right?”
A great sign. “Yep. That’s me. Nick Sticks gives you your fix.”
She forced a smile. Not such a good sign. Well, he couldn’t let that bother him. As a self-proclaimed funny guy, he was well aware that some jokes bombed, but you had to get through the crappy jokes to wow folks with the winners. “And Brad?” Brad looked up and nodded and then stood. She said to both men, “Please call me Brina…or Bri is fine too.”
He said, “Brina—I like that.”
She raised her eyebrows and turned to Val. Hmm. If it hadn’t been June, Nick would have sworn he’d felt a cold front moving through. Holy shit.
Actually, though, he liked that. He’d had so much pussy over the past several years that he liked the idea of a challenge. She wasn’t impressed? Well, wait’ll she saw him in action. He was known as a hardcore, solid drummer for Fully Automatic, but he, Val, and Brad had already talked about the music for Val Hella at length and had started composing music. What he would do for Val’s band was going to be a little different—more experimental and edgy. Val wanted to be different, and he planned to deliver.
The four of them entered the studio. Brina did seem impressed by that setup. How could she not? Brad had invested in state-of-the-art recording and mixing equipment and, while the space was small, it was functional and just as good, if not better, than any place they would have paid to use.
“Where do you want me?” she asked.
Val said, “Well, I’ll be in the middle, of course, and Brad will be to my right…so I guess you’ll be on my left. That okay?”
“I’m good wherever.”
They spent a few minutes plugging into amps and turning on mikes. Brad said, “You probably already know we’ve all had years playing together. You familiar with Fully Automatic history?”
“A little.” Nick thought he detected another cold draft wafting off the lady, but Brad didn’t seem to notice. She was probably insulted that Brad had even asked.
“Just checking. Well, something you might not know is that, before we signed with our label, Val used to sing lead vocals for us. She’s ready for her own band again and she deserves it. Anyway, we know it might take a bit to adjust to us, but I wanted to let you know the dynamics you were walking into.”
“Understood.”
Val jumped in. “We were thinking we’d play some stuff we’ve been working on and just kind of let you improvise, see what you can come up with.”
Brina raised an eyebrow. “And if you don’t like what you hear?” Val tilted her head as if she wasn’t sure what to say. She was probably not digging the chilly vibes from the woman either. “Do I get a chance to meld with you guys, get a feel for you, make adjustments if you don’t like what you hear…or is this it?”
Val blinked. “You know, I hadn’t thought about that. I mean…sure, today is kind of like a ‘second interview,’ but I was already kind of thinking of you as one of us.”
Brina almost smiled. “Sounds good.” She adjusted her strap so the bass hung low against her hips. “I was already thinking that way myself. That helps.”
In just a few minutes, they were playing a tune they’d been working on for the past month. The first thing Nick noticed was how much better Val was on the guitar since the last time he’d seen her. She’d been working at it for a few months now, getting better, and she was hungry. Goddamn, it was nice seeing her making music again.
The second thing Nick noticed was how he felt. He, Val, and Brad had only played together once or twice before when discussing and planning her band, even though they’d been writing music, but this time they felt congealed, like a real band. It was natural and felt really nice, just like Fully Automatic always did.<
br />
And third? Sabrina fit right in. She fit the three of them just like those cute little shorts hugged her ass.
And that thought caused Nick to miss a beat. Fuck. So much for impressing the new girl. But they continued and no one said a word. As always, Nick was his own worst critic. Fortunately, he wasn’t too hard on himself when he didn’t have to be. And he knew he had a good excuse for fucking up. Besides, it was a new tune and they were practicing. Fuck ups were expected at this stage of the game.
They played for a good forty-five minutes together, and at the end of the last song, Val gave Brad and Nick a look. That look told them she was more than happy with Brina and wanted to offer her the position permanently. Nick just gave her a wave of a hand, letting her know that he was behind whatever she wanted to do. Brad nodded.
Brina sensed the end of their playing time together and was putting her bass back in its black case. Val said, “Brina, we think you’re a natural for Val Hella, and we’d be honored if you’d formally accept the bassist position.”
Brina stood up and this time had a full-fledged genuine smile on her face. “That’s what I like to hear. I would be honored to take it.”
“Sounds great.” Val wanted to go over some paperwork with Brina—practice dates, legal paperwork, and other bullshit—so the two of them returned to the house. Val had to pick fussy Hayley up on the path through the yard because her daughter wanted her mama, but Chris made his way to the studio to hang with Uncle Nick and Daddy Brad.
Nick was going to have to watch what he wanted to say, but he was going to say it just the same. “Whew. That woman is…amazing.”
Brad shrugged. “Yeah, she seems pretty good.”
“No, man. That’s not what I mean. I mean…” He wasn’t sure how to communicate his lustful feelings with the little man nearby.
Oh, and Gracie. She entered the studio, keeping an eye on Chris. She looked cute today, her blonde hair piled up in a messy bun on top of her head. Her green eyes twinkled. “I suspect I know exactly what naughty Nick means.”
Slash and Burn Page 2
