Chapter 12
Still Alice
“Hey Alice, do you have a minute?”
I stopped and closed my eyes. It’d been so long since Noah had cornered me, I’d kinda thought—hoped—he’d been sincere and we were actually done with the petty bullshit.
Sighing, I turned back and faced him as he sat behind the drums I’d spent so long setting up. “Yeah?”
He twirled a stick through his fingers. “Harper told me you volunteer at an animal shelter.”
“Okay.” I tilted my head when he didn’t go on. “Do you need somewhere to perform community service?”
“Ha. No.” He laughed softly and looked down for a second. “Is that really how you think of me?”
I squinted. “I don’t think you really want me to answer that.”
“Fair enough. I, uh, I’m thinking about adopting a dog and was…shit, I don’t know. Needing some advice, I guess.”
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you.” I shrugged. “There’s a reason I volunteer and don’t have a pet myself; I’m hardly ever home. What’s your schedule like?”
“I’m home alone way too often.” He shook his head and looked down like he was embarrassed by the confession.
“Okay, well depending on the breed and your support system, it’d probably be doable for you to adopt. You might want to hire a dog sitter for when you’re at work, especially given the hours you work. Or I know a few doggie daycares that are reputable you could check out.”
“Sounds good. Maybe I could swing by the next time you’re volunteering? I’d rather talk to someone who knows me about this. Given all the hype right now, it could be awkward to just walk in…”
I laughed. I could already picture the mob. The band already had to up their security coverage on everyone, but especially Noah with the whole craziness about the Win-A-Date Contest. The past few days had been insane with media and hopefuls turning up at shows and at church and even hanging out in the resort’s parking lot. I could only imagine what would happen if he just randomly showed up at the shelter. “So much for being the incognito rock star, huh? Toss me a text when you’re thinking of swinging by, and I’ll make sure we have the place to ourselves.”
“What’s your number?” Noah pulled his phone out and tapped on the screen.
I recited my number, and we exchanged awkward smiles before I retreated from the stage.
As I stood in the shadows with Grady, the bizarreness of the moment hit me.
“Did that just happen?” Grady asked as he stared at me, genuinely baffled.
I shook my head, just as incredulous. “I know, right?”
“You’re going out with him? Seriously? Even though he’s signed up to be the band’s gigolo?”
“What? No. We’re not going out. He just wanted some help with something. And he’s not the band’s gigolo. I don’t even think he wants to do the whole Win-A-Date thing.”
Grady raised his eyebrows. “You’ve been on the road. You know it’s not that innocent.”
“Who cares? He’s a consenting adult, and so is whoever he’ll pick. What business is it of yours what he wants to do in his personal life?”
“I just don’t want to see you fall under his spell of his wholesome sobriety bullshit. Noah is as innocent as a fucking mafia kingpin.”
I stared at Grady, genuinely confused. This was coming out of left field. I’d always thought he got along with everyone. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him have an issue with anyone—even when we were on the road. And when you’re on the road, everyone got annoying after a hot minute. Literally.
I shook my head and gave him a concerned look. “Is everything okay, Grady?”
“Just—”
“Who’s ready for church?” Chase’s shout was loud and slightly jarring.
I looked back at Grady and found him staring at me with an expression I couldn’t label. “Just don’t fall for his bullshit, okay? Stay wary.”
I gave him a wide-eyed look then turned back to the stage to watch church as the guys got underway. I didn’t know what to think.
That was definitely weird. Especially for Grady.
* * *
The next day we had Monarchs rehearsal, and before I could even utter a greeting, Lark burst through the door like a tornado.
“Oh my god. Oh my god, you guys! You’ll never guess what happened!”
If it wasn’t for her obvious glee, I would’ve asked if she was okay. Her hair was all staticky and poufy and her eyeliner was smudged under her eyes like she just woke up or had a crying jag. “What’s going on?”
She squealed. “I lined up a manager to come to our show tonight!”
I sighed. “I thought we were going to wait.”
“Yeah,” Bailey agreed. “We’re hardly making any money. We only have a few hundred followers on social media. We haven’t uploaded any songs anywhere. Why would anyone want to sign us?”
“Because we’re hot shit.” Lark cocked her hip and fisted her hands on her hips. “Come on, guys. We deserve this. We’re a legitimate band who’s going places. Why wouldn’t Joe Fisher want to sign us?”
Bailey tossed me a questioning look, and I shook my head. “Who?”
“Joe Fisher,” Lark said, like that meant something to us. When we just stared at her in confusion, she scoffed. “He’s only the manager for Kind Justice and Those 3 Guys.”
Bailey blinked a few times then shook her head. “Who?”
“Come on! You know who . This is a big deal! Why aren’t you guys more excited?” Lark wailed.
“Because this isn’t the next step we wanted to take, Lark.” I stared at her for a moment, waiting for my words to sink in. “We talked about this weeks ago and agreed to the plan. Right now, we need to work on our sound. Get a few songs recorded and upload them. Build a following and make the bigwigs come to us. That was the plan, remember?”
Lark groaned and stomped over to her keyboard. She pushed at a few buttons then turned to face me. “Yeah, but it’s already working. The bigwigs are already coming to us. I mean, Joe Fisher wants to sign us. Why shouldn’t we do it?”
“Maybe because none of us recognize his big-name clients, let alone him.” Bailey pushed her hair out of her face. “Maybe because this isn’t what we want? You’re always trying to push us to go harder and faster than we’re comfortable with. You’re jumping like three steps ahead. What’s the rush?”
“Because you guys would be happy if we just played a few bars and scraped together funds to afford some back-alley studio to record our music.”
Bailey shook her head. “What’s wrong with that?”
“I want more!” Lark wailed. “I want stadiums filled with our fans. I want our songs at the top of the charts! Don’t we deserve that?”
“And we want to get there, too.” I held up my hands. “But we want to do it on our terms. Our way. All for one. Remember?”
“You guys don’t know a good deal when I literally bring it to your feet.” Lark shoved away from her keyboard and stomped to the door.
I flinched as it slammed shut behind her.
“Well. So there’s that.” Bailey sent me a sad little smile.
“Is it rude to assume she’s PMS-ing?”
“Who were those bands she rattled off? Have you heard of them?”
I shook my head. “No. One-hit wonders at best. Or maybe they were big a generation ago. But they’re definitely not hot now.”
Bailey groaned. “Tonight is going to be a shitshow.”
“It’s gonna be interesting, that’s for sure. I guess we should be pleasant to Joe Whoever, but we’re definitely not signing anything tonight.”
“For sure.”
“And apparently it’s just me and you to load up tonight.”
Bailey groaned even more dramatically than before. “We really need to hire a roadie.”
“Maybe Joe won’t mind hauling a few boxes for us.”
She laughed. “I’m sure. In exchange for our souls of course.”
My laughter joined hers as we got to work.
* * *
Lark had an attitude the whole time during setup. She huffed in annoyance when Bailey or I got near her. Like she had the right to be the offended one. Like Bailey and I hadn’t spent the better part of an hour loading up without her.
I was in real danger of getting dizzy with how hard I was rolling my eyes at her.
My phone vibrated in my back pocket. Cursing myself for not leaving it in the van, I pulled it out and looked at the screen.
Unknown : Are you working any time this week?
That was…weird… I couldn’t piece together who this message was from. Wrong number maybe?
Then my phone rang in my hand. Unknown number flashed on the screen.
I wanted to ignore the call, but Lark wasn’t the only one out here hustling for work for our band. So like a fool, I hit accept.
“Hello?” Plugging my other ear from the loud, boisterous bar sounds, I ran to the exit. “I’m sorry, it’s really loud here. Give me just a second.”
I ran past the bouncer at the door and into the quieter parking lot.
“Hello? Can you hear me now?”
Silence echoed down the line.
I pulled the phone away from my ear and looked at the screen. The call was still live, unknown number displayed at the top of the screen.
“Hello? I’m sorry, I can’t hear you. Hello?”
I waited for an answer, but when none came, I ended the call with a shrug and looked at the screen. When they didn’t immediately call back, I chalked it up to a failed scam and put my phone in the van like I should’ve earlier.
“Alice!”
I turned to where Bailey stood near the bar’s door, scowling at me. “Just a sec!”
“Whoa! Wait!” Bailey ran across the still warm blacktop. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Uh, putting my phone in the van. I don’t want to lose it.”
“Why the hell are you in the parking lot alone? We have a system, remember?”
I shrugged. “I got a call and needed to hear the other end. Besides, we haven’t played yet. It’s not like anyone in there knows who I am.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re a pretty woman alone in a bar parking lot. The buddy system is mandatory, at the very least. But you should be using the security that we negotiated for. Pretty sure they’re cutting our rate compared to other bands anyways, might as well get our money’s worth.”
My phone vibrated in my hands before I could come up with a comeback.
Unknown : This is Noah btw
I was confused for a second. I forgot I’d told him I’d hook him up with a special viewing.
Me : Sorry, I haven’t looked yet. We’re playing Lush tonight but I’ll let you know after our show.
“Who are you texting?” Bailey asked teasingly.
She knew more than anyone that I didn’t have a man in my life.
I rolled my eyes. “No one like that.”
“Okay, hurry up and stash your phone. We need to get back inside. Apparently Lark wants to go over the setlist. Again.”
I groaned but hustled around the side of the building with Bailey hot on my heels.
The show went about how I thought it would. Lark was kinda frantic at first but relaxed as we settled into our set. Once we got to our original songs, she was smiling and playful with us like the last few hours hadn’t happened.
I shrugged when Bailey turned to give me a look. It was pointless to hang onto grudges. If we wanted this band to be successful, we had to let go of the petty shit.
“All right, Lush!” Lark spoke over the cheering audience. “You’ve been awesome. We’re going to take a little break, but we’ll be back in fifteen with more amazing music. I’ve got to have one of those margaritas. They look delicious! See you in fifteen.”
I grinned at the way that Lark slipped in her drink suggestions. There was no point ordering anything. In about five minutes, the bar will be lined up with margaritas her adoring public would send over.
One margarita wouldn’t kill me. I had to do my part after all.
Bailey and I had just settled up at the bar in front of six margaritas (so far) when Lark bounced over with a short, thin, bald man shuffling after her. He looked sixty if he were a day. Which meant I probably wasn’t far off with my last generation comment. Maybe he was a big name two generations ago. Ouch.
“Guys, this is Joe Fisher.” Lark beamed.
I suppressed my shudder as his eyes ran up and down Bailey and me. No way were we signing with this asshole. He clearly saw us as eye candy first and—at best—a band second.
Hard pass.
But still I picked up a glass and gave him a cheers. “Nice to meet you.”
Joe’s eyes lingered on my chest. “Nice to meet you.” He held out a hand.
Mentally groaning, I stood up and shook his hand. His moist, sweaty hand. Ugh.
“Alice Rose.”
Bailey did the same song and dance before quickly regaining her barstool, putting as much distance as possible between her and Joe. I didn’t have to ask her opinion of the man.
“So how many songs have you all written?” Joe asked as he grabbed one of the free margaritas on the bar.
“Well, like I told you, we have five that we play in our sets because we have to do covers still to get the crowd on our side since we’re not as well known yet. But Alice has written a few more that we’re still working out the kinks on.”
“Well, if they’re anything like what I just heard, they’re not going to work,” Joe proclaimed before taking a huge slurp from his stolen drink.
“I’m sorry, what?” No way I could’ve heard him right. He didn’t like anything we’d played?
Joe shrugged. “Your sound is too ‘angry woman.’ It’s overdone. You need something poppier. Lighter. Teen bop. Something both teens and their parents wouldn’t mind listening to. That’s where your market is at.”
I flinched like he’d slapped me.
Where were the effusive compliments so we’d sign with him?
Where was the romance?
What the hell!
Were we…bad? So bad that even slimy Joe Fisher didn’t want to sign us?
“Work on your sound more and maybe we’ll talk.” Joe took a step away from the bar and nodded at us. “Nice to meet you all.”
And then he was gone. Free drink and all.
And it felt like all the air in the room left with him.
I couldn’t breathe.
A long, stunned silence pulsed from our end of the bar as we absorbed his ‘advice.’
“Did he seriously just say that we sucked?” Bailey finally whispered.
I shook my head. “Pretty sure he said my music sucked.” Air whistled from my lungs. “ I suck,” I whispered mostly to myself.
But Bailey still heard me. “No, Alice. He sucks.” She jumped off her barstool and wrapped her arms around me. “I love your songs. Our songs. And he’s just some old fart who doesn’t get it. And why would he? He probably voted for Reagan back in the day.”
I snorted a sad little laugh.
“Oh my god, he totally did. What the hell was I thinking?” Lark cried. “Why did I ever think that creepy old weirdo was our ticket to the bigs?”
Bailey sent her a look. “Pretty sure we tried to tell you that earlier.”
“I’m sorry, okay?” Lark blinked her shiny eyes. “Clearly, he doesn’t know his shit if he wants to turn us into a teen bop group. I mean, shit. We’re all in our late twenties. That’s too old for teen bop.”
“Not when you’re in your sixties.” Bailey snorted. “We probably look like fetuses to him.”
I shuddered. “That was not the impression I got.”
I still felt like I needed a shower from the way he’d looked us all up and down.
“Oh yeah, he was gross.” Bailey groaned.
“Sorry, guys. I really thought this would be our break.” Lark picked up a margarita on the rocks and downed about half of it in one go.
“Hey.” I patted her shoulder while Bailey wrestled the drink away. “There’s a reason we agreed on the path we wanted to take. We do this on our terms. Build a following on the strength of our music, and then we don’t have to bow down to suits who think they know what we should be playing. All for one, right?”
“All for one.” Lark nodded.
Bailey beamed. “All for one.”
“Give me my drink back,” Lark demanded. “Then we’re going back on that stage and making Joe Whosit eat his fucking words!”
“Hell yeah!” I cheered, raising my glass in toast.
We clinked our glasses together, drank our free margaritas from our adoring public, and then stormed the stage.
Joe Whosit was a fucking moron.
Or at least that was what I tried to tell myself.