The veins on his drummer’s arms pulsed as he squeezed and released his fists. “You know who you’re talking to?”
She gave him a sweet smile. “Ralph Macchio?”
Adding more insult to injury, Cato kicked and pointed and laughed.
If she didn’t stop busting their balls, they’d never listen. He touched her arm. “F-bomb?”
“Yes,” she said, not breaking eye contact with the now irate Griffin.
“Instead of telling them, show us what you mean.” He turned to Griffin and Cato. “Get your guitar and drum machine.” He yelled up front. “Missy!”
Missy shot to the back. “What?”
“Grab your keyboard.”
“Why?”
Effie started in. “Because it sounds like sh—”
He placed his hand on hers, shushing her before Missy kicked her ass. “Get your keyboard, porfa.”
Missy frowned down at their hands then grabbed her instrument from the overhead bin.
Everyone gathered around Effie. She pressed play on the laptop. “Right there! Did you hear it? The timing is off. Pass me the drum thingy.”
Griffin tightened his jaw and shoved it at her.
“I’ve never played one of these before,” she said. “How does it work?”
Elias turned it on and gave her a set of drumsticks. “Just tap it like this.”
“Oh, cool. Okay. Start the song.” On the first try, she hammered out a perfectly synced beat. “Hear the difference?”
If Griffin didn’t, he was going to send him to music school.
His drummer uncrossed his arms and gave her a slow deliberate nod. “Yeah, I hear it.”
She clapped and cheered. “Yay! Okay next.” She went over the changes with Cato then moved on to Missy.
“Your voice is flat,” Effie told her. “And you keep hitting the wrong note.” She shouldered Missy out of the way and played the tune herself.
Missy bored holes through the side of Effie’s face. “You’re telling us what to do, how do we know you don’t suck?”
Effie’s hand froze above the keys then slowly dropped to her side.
For the first time, Elias felt disconnected from his band. They acted like Effie threatened their survival, but it was she who would keep them from dying off.
“Effie,” he said. “Show Missy what a terrible musician you are. Get out your violin.”
“What do you want me to play?”
“Whatever you want.”
“I’ll play a classical piece then one of the new songs. How’s that?”
He nodded. “Go ahead.”
Annie and Hal wandered back for the show.
Her song made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
Someone sniffled.
“Dude,” Cato said to Hal. “Are you crying?”
Hal wiped his face. “I’m a sensitive guy.”
Next, she played the song they wrote. “This is where Missy’s vocals come in.” She sang the part with a hypnotically sexy voice. And when she finished, no one said a thing.
“I didn’t know you could sing,” Elias said.
She snorted. “I can’t. You heard me, right? I’m terrible.”
“No, girl,” Cato said with a resigned sigh. “You can sing. And play bass. And drums. And keyboard. And write songs. You got that?” He snapped his fingers. “What’s it called? Assburgers? You know, like Rain Man?”
Effie mumbled “asshole” under her breath then stuck another lollipop in her mouth.
“I’m just fucking wit’ chew.” Cato held out his knuckles for a fist bump.
She bumped him back with her sucker. “I was fucking with you as well.”
Cato bent over and laughed. “You’re all right, F-bomb.”
Elias’s tension drained away. Cato’s approval meant everything. One down. Two to go.
Everyone else returned to their seats, leaving him and Effie alone in the back.
“Hi,” she whispered.
“Hola.”
She lowered her chin. “They don’t really like me, do they?”
He pressed his finger on her mouth. “Shh. You’re fine. This is a big change. They’ll warm up eventually.” At least, he hoped they would. Otherwise, it was going to be a rough ride.
She perked up. “What should we do now?”
He leaned closer. “Get to know each other.”
“What do you want to know?”
“All of your secrets,” he whispered.
Her smile faded. “Let’s save those for another day.”
22
Counterpoint
Liverpool, England
“O Mouse, do you know the way out of this pool? I am very tired of swimming about here, O Mouse!”
Soundtrack “Four Seasons op.8,” Vivaldi
Through the open window in her practice room, Effie watched the kids across the street leap over the lawn sprinklers. Droplets of mist glistened off their bodies and shrieks of joy rang out each time the water blasted them. It must have felt so good, the cool water hitting their hot skin.
“She’s just a kid, Elise,” her father shouted. “Let her go outside and play.”
“If she falls and breaks her hand, she’ll ruin her career,” her mother sniped back.
“Her career? She’s six, for Christ’s sake.”
“Don’t you think I know what’s best for my own child?”
“Your child? Last I checked, it takes two to make a baby.”
“I won’t let you ruin her career like you ruined mine.”
The sprinklers rotated over the slick grass. Tshht, tshht, tshht.
“Not a day goes by that I don’t regret knocking you up. You want to be a single parent? Be my guest.” The garage door slammed and her father’s car zoomed past.
He didn’t come back that night. Or ever again.
“Alice began to feel very uneasy: to be sure, she had not as yet had any dispute with the Queen, but she knew that it might happen any minute, ‘and then,’ thought she, ‘what would become of me?’”
Soundtrack “Chemical,” Jack Garratt
While the adults—Elias and Gail—argued about her, Effie watched everyone play in the pool out back. Hal and Cato floated on rafts, and Annie swam from end-to-end like a frog. Missy dipped her toes in the water, and Griffin snoozed in the sun. What she wouldn’t give to be out there with them.
After they’d arrived in England, Gail Heart and her lackeys blasted through the mansion door like a red tempest and rained a shitstorm down on everyone.
With her perfectly coiffed black hair, artfully applied makeup, and tailored red suit, one might have mistaken Gail for a CEO rather than a band manager.
But when she opened her mouth, Gail morphed from a professional businesswoman into Queen Bitch.
Not once had Gail called her by name. Instead, she referred to her in third-person. “Tell the violinist the hairdresser is waiting upstairs to cut her mop.”
“I’m right here,” Effie said.
At first, she couldn’t fathom what she’d done to deserve such treatment. They’d only known each other for half an hour. But once they sat down to discuss her contract, it became abundantly clear. Elias had gone around Gail and made his own label. And the woman blamed her.
“Who do you think you are?” Gail snapped at Elias. “Prince? You can’t just make up another name in the middle of my tour.”
He jabbed a thumb at his chest. “It’s my tour. Besides, Effie’s not in the band. She’s a contract musician.”
“A contract musician who’s playing in my band and on the tour Heart Records funded.” Gail punctuated every word with a slap on the glass table.
Elias sat back and smirked, clearly amused by Gail’s frazzled state. “We wrote the songs outside of the label. They don’t belong to you.”
“Then you can forget about putting that twit onstage.” Gail flicked a finger in her direction. “She fucks up, and it’s Heart Records who’s liable, not you.”
He flipped to the end of the contract. “Page seven states the band is liable for anything that goes wrong.”
Gail slapped the table. “That’s not good enough. I need to see a return on my investment.”
“My lawyer and I already spoke to your father about this,” Elias said. “It’s a done deal. Either you sign the contract or the tour ends here.”
Gail’s nostrils flared as if she were about to breath fire out of them and torch everything to the ground. “You went behind my back!”
“Your dad says ‘hi,’ by the way,” Elias said.
The manager’s silence lingered for a moment. Then she leaned forward and propped her chin on her folded hands. “Remember when I met you? You were playing in that shitty club in the meatpacking district?” She laughed a little. “You were so broke you had to duct tape the holes in your shoes.”
She stood and shook a stiff finger at him. “Go behind my back again, and you’ll be playing at redneck county fairs from here on out.”
Elias shot up from his seat. “Get out.”
“Struck a nerve, did I?” Gail leveled him with a glare. “Good.” She stuffed the signed contract in her designer bag. “That twit so much as blinks the wrong way, and I will end you.” Then she stormed out with her servants in tow.
The minute she left, Elias charged out the back door and left.
Heart racing and stomach churning, Effie sat glued to her chair, feeling like she’d just witnessed her own beheading. I need to get wasted.
She bolted up and tore through the kitchen, searching for something to get her high. But all she found was dishes and a few cans of soup.
“What are doing?”
She spun around and found Annie leaning against the doorway. “How long have you been there?”
“Not long. What were you looking for?”
“Aspirin.” She rubbed her temples. “I have a headache.”
“Come to my room,” Annie said. “I fix pain.”
Puh-lease. What antidote could this woman possibly have to cure the pain of addiction? “No thanks. I’m fine.”
Annie narrowed her eyes as if she could see right through her bullshit.
With no other option in sight, Effie followed the woman to her room and sat on the bed.
“Your chi not flow,” Annie said. “Your life-force is stuck.”
Was it that obvious? She blasted out an irritated sigh. “Great. Just what I needed to hear.”
Annie shut the blinds then snapped on a pair of rubber gloves. “Gail is a cunt.”
“Did you just say the C word?”
“Gail’s chi is also fucked,” Annie said. “She needs to get laid. Sex helps energy flow.” She unwrapped a needle and held it above her face.
Effie warded her off with a pillow. “Nuh-uh. I’m not letting someone in a Hello Kitty bikini stick needles into my skull.”
“Wha? My ass looks great in this suit. Now shut mouth and lie down.”
“I don’t trust you,” Effie said.
“I don’t trust you, either.” Annie tapped a needle into her head.
A moment later, tears leaked down her face. “What’s wrong with me?”
Annie dabbed a cool washcloth on her face. “Shh. Be still. The chi is flowing.”
All of a sudden, she felt weightless, as if she were floating in space. Forever passed, or maybe just a second, and Annie opened the shades.
Effie sat up. The needles were gone. So were her cravings. She wiggled her fingers. Her hands didn’t hurt anymore. Neither did her neck.
“Feel better?” Annie asked.
“My arthritis is gone.”
“You have a lot of bad chi.” She tossed her gloves in the trash.
“Annie?’
“Hmm?
“What do I do now?”
“Pfft. How should I know? I’m acupuncturist, not fortuneteller.” She shook her head and mumbled something in Chinese.
Effie raised a brow. “What did you just say?”
Annie cracked a devious grin then waltzed out of the room.
23
Duet
Soundtrack “Modern Man,” Arcade Fire
In a festering rage, Elias walked almost two miles to downtown Liverpool.
Gail had become the enemy.
When he’d started the band, he’d been so thrilled to be backed by a major label he didn’t even blink an eye before he signed Heart’s contract. But it wasn’t long before he realized he’d not only signed away Urban’s royalties, he’d also signed away his soul.
Heart Records owned him.
But they didn’t own Effie.
Guilt gnawed on his conscience. Poor Effie. She was so innocent and naïve. During his meeting with Gail, she looked shell-shocked, like he’d slapped her in the face.
Thunderclouds boomed overhead, and the sky spat rain on the streets. On the corner, he ducked inside a teashop.
The aroma of dried tealeaves permeated the place, and light jazz played in the background. Faces aglow from their laptop screens, none of the patrons noticed him enter.
Silently, he cheered about not having to pose for a selfie with a stranger.
He ordered a cup of Earl Gray and settled on a tattered sofa in the back. As the rain poured outside, his anger dissipated into dread.
What if Gail was right? What if he’d made a horrible mistake? What if Effie was terrible onstage? Or worse, what if she ruined his career? His career meant everything.
An older couple straggled in from out of the rain. While the man ordered at the counter, the woman shook off her wet coat and sat at a table nearby. Later, the man sat next to her with two mugs.
The woman sipped her tea and smiled. “Mmm, jasmine. How did you know that’s what I wanted?”
“It’s your favorite when it rains.”
“What if it’s sunny?”
“Mint.”
“How did you know?”
He kissed her cheek. “After all these years of sleeping next to you, think I haven’t been paying attention?”
The woman covered his hand with hers. “You know me better than I know myself, darling.”
As Elias listened to their conversation, melancholy flooded him. He couldn’t fathom what it would be like to be with someone long enough to memorize her drink preferences. In his world, long-term relationships didn’t really exist, and those that did were an anomaly.
Crowds of people gathered around him every weekend, and yet, somehow he still felt lonely.
A worker turned the station to classical, and violin music floated out. He closed his eyes and listened to ‘symphony of humanity’—spoons tinkling and rain spattering and light whispers of love-me-nots from the couple beside him. And soon, warm thoughts of Effie cleared away the clouds around his heart.
He pulled out his phone and texted her.
Not even ten minutes later, she skipped back to the sofa and sat next to him. “LeStrange dropped me off,” she said. “Someone took a picture of me outside. They must have thought I was famous.”
“You will be soon.”
She snorted. “More like infamous.”
He kissed the raindrops off her rosy cheeks and poured her a mug of raspberry tea.
She squeezed his leg. “That’s delicious. What are you drinking?”
“Earl Grey.”
“Hmm, I would have taken you for a chai lover.”
“I’m a basic man with basic tastes.”
She took another sip and set down her mug. “So, basic man, want to tell me why you left me alone with your crazy mother.”
He coughed a laugh and set down his tea.
She squinted. “Think it’s funny? Why’d you bring me here, anyway? So you could use me to get back at your manager?”
He lifted her hand to his lips. “Effie, amor, you know why I brought you here.”
“For your band.”
“For me.”
She didn’t seem convinced. “Then why’d you leave? And why didn’t you tell me where yo
u were going? I was worried.”
“You were?”
She snatched back her hand. “Duh! Just because I don’t know you, doesn’t mean I don’t care. It’s raining. You don’t have a jacket.”
He couldn’t help but smile. Someone cared about him. She cared about him. “Perdóname. I’m sorry. I needed time to think. I’m used to solving problems on my own.”
“Well, you’re not alone now. So next time, tell me where you’re going and when you’ll be back, or I’ll cut off your cojónes.” She snipped her fingers.
“I see you’re learning Spanish.”
“I’m serious.”
He crossed his heart. “Te prometo, I won’t leave without telling you again.”
“Good.” She wiped her hands and sat back. “Now what are we going to do about Gail?”
He tucked her under his arm and nuzzled her neck. “We are going to focus on the music. And I will take care of my manager. Once she hears you play, she’ll leave us alone.”
She didn’t seem convinced. Frankly, he wasn’t either.
“You better be right, jefe.”
He groaned. “First Annie, and now you. I’m not your boss.”
“Yes, you are.”
He wagged a finger. “No.”
“Then what are you?”
“A cock star.”
24
Espressivo
“‘Mine is a long and a sad tale,’ said the Mouse, turning to Alice, and sighing.”
Soundtrack “Burn the Witch,” Radiohead
The rehearsal sucked. It was all wrong. Everything. Now she understood, on a visceral level, Professor Frommer’s reaction to her audition.
So far Urban had played the set list three times, and every time, her irritation swelled. The fourth time, she set down her violin and walked off the stage.
“Where’s she going?” Cato asked.
“I need a minute.” She grabbed her bag and jammed a lollipop in her mouth, then darted toward the opposite end of the field.
Head-Tripped: A Sexy Rock Star Romance (Ad Agency Series Book 2) Page 11
