Conquest (6 page)

“When people are excited over music, that’s a good thing! I can’t believe you missed the whole intro to ‘Euphoria,’ and Kenny had to try and cover your ass when you were off the keys all damn night!”

“You know, Jesse, Mike’s right. Music is your life and that’s great, but the rest of us have lives besides this. I don’t need to be talked to like this for something that’s supposed to be fun.” Ben stood and moved for the door.

Jesse turned his back to him. “Fine! Go! I don’t need somebody that’s only going at this half-assed dragging me down!”

Silence filled the break room.
Jesse ran his fingers through his hair, still wet with sweat from the evening’s performance. He clasped his hands behind his head and stared down at the floor.

“That was really brilliant,” Kenny said.
“Shut up, Kenny,” Jesse muttered.

“Well, we’re right back where we started.
Again
. Just the two of us.
Again
.”
“I know what the situation is.”
“It’s like you have it on a timer or something. Same shit, just a few months later.”
“I—”
“You know, screaming like that is a real good way to trash your cords,” a voice from the doorway interrupted.
Jesse and Kenny both looked toward it.

Jesse gasped and spun around, instantly recognizing Evan Arden. Evan leaned one shoulder against the doorframe, his arms folded across his chest, a confident smirk on lips. Jesse’s breath caught in his throat as he looked into Evan’s azure eyes. It was really him. Evan Arden. The man, the singer he had admired for so many years stood right in front of him.

“Jesse Alexander, right?” another man said, walking inside the break room.

Jesse’s attention stayed on Evan. He didn’t look any older than when he had been putting out albums. His hair was longer now, falling close to the bottom of his neck in back, and didn’t have the artificial highlights of gold and copper streaking through the rich chestnut color like he used to wear when performing, but it still looked incredible with how he had it styled in a slight wave.

Two small gold hoop earrings dangled from Evan’s left ear. He wore a white shirt with silver buttons running down the front and enough left undone to reveal his smooth, fit torso. He held a Yankees cap in his hand and silver rings of various designs adorned nearly all his fingers, though the ring on Evan’s right index finger looked to be older, more worn, and appeared to be made of white gold featuring an eagle set on a square piece of onyx clasping a marquise-cut ruby in its talons.

Jesse drank in every detail of him, unable to pull his eyes away. Evan met his gaze, direct and unwavering.

Greg stood holding his hand out to Jesse. “I’m Greg Hansen. I’m a producer with Phoenix Records. This is my assistant, Tim Polanski, and I’m sure you recognize Evan Arden. That was some show you put on tonight. Your energy overrode the mistakes the drummer and keyboardist were making.”

Realizing there were other people in the room, Jesse snapped himself out of his stupor. He brought his attention to the man speaking. He looked to be in his mid-forties, a few strands of silver peppered his brown hair near the temples. Jesse flicked his gaze to the other man, who appeared to be in his early thirties with sandy colored hair.

Jesse took Greg’s hand in a firm grip. “Thank you, I appreciate it. We always try to do our best.” He gestured to Kenny. “This is Kenny Cooper, lead guitar.”

Jesse shook Tim’s hand, then turned to Evan. He swallowed hard, meeting his eyes again, and took Evan’s hand. Heat surged through him as his skin met Evan’s, his heart thumped faster. Unlike Greg’s solid grip or Tim’s crushing one, Evan clasped his hand gently, holding it more than shaking it.

Jesse smiled at him. “At the risk of sounding like a rabid fanboy, I’ve admired your music for years.”
Evan chuckled warmly, his hand lingered in Jesse’s before he slowly drew it back. “You don’t sound like a rabid fanboy. I’m flattered to have the respect of someone as talented as you are. You put on a great show tonight, but you always do.”

“You’ve seen us before?” Jesse asked, shocked.
“Yeah. I really like the sound you’re trying to go for.” Jesse paused, his mind stuck on the word
trying.

“And you certainly have crowd appeal,” Tim said. “You perform much older than you look.”

“Yeah, how old are you anyway, kid, like twelve, thirteen?” Evan said, grinning as he lifted his beer to his lips.
Jesse rolled his gaze down Evan’s body and back up to his face. “No, I’m legal.”

Evan lowered his beer without taking a drink, his surprised eyes staring at Jesse.

 

Jesse faced the others. He couldn’t believe what he had just said. “I’m twenty, creeping up on twenty-one this October.”

“That’s about what I thought,” Greg said. “It looks like you’re short a couple bandmates.”
Jesse forced a grin. “Yeah well, conflicting personalities, you know.”

Tim let out a loud snort. “From what we heard, just about anybody would conflict with that.”

Jesse glared at Tim at the same time Greg did, but his irritation slipped as the scent of the most enticing cologne he had ever smelled touched his nose, like flowers and spice melded into one tantalizing fragrance; delicate, and yet it struck his senses with arousing potency. He felt a warm presence close to him and turned his head slightly. In the periphery of his vision, he saw Evan standing less than two feet away behind him and to the side.

Kenny snapped his fingers. “Wait, Phoenix Records. We sent you guys a demo last year. You rejected it.”

 

Jesse pulled his focus back at Kenny’s voice.

“I hope you didn’t take it too personally,” Greg said. “Unfortunately, we get so many demos, sometimes a good one falls through the cracks.”

“Maybe if you sealed up those cracks, your label wouldn’t be going under,” Jesse retorted.

 

Kenny sucked in a horrified gasp. Greg’s mouth dropped open.

 

Tim flew into an instant rage. “What the hell would you know about our label?”

Kenny recovered and put his arm around Jesse’s shoulders. “Just ignore him. Sometimes he talks without thinking. It’s like his brain takes a nap and leaves his mouth in charge. It’s a bad situation for him and everybody around him.”

“He’ll know what a bad situation is when he realizes he blew his chance at—”

 

“That’s enough, Tim,” Greg said. “Do you guys have a manager or agent that’s working with you?”

Jesse heard Evan laughing and ground his teeth at his own stupidity. He shook his head in answer to Greg’s question. “I handle all the managing and booking for us.”

“That’s the way it works a lot of the time when you’re getting started. Well, we just wanted to pop back here and tell you we liked your show. We should be going now.” Greg paused in the doorway. “You don’t by chance have a card or a number where I could reach you in case I should want to get in touch, do you?”

“Yeah,” Kenny said, moving to his guitar case. He pulled out a business card with their band name and information. He walked back to Greg and handed it to him.

Greg stuck it in his pocket without looking at it. “Great. Come on, Tim. Evan, you coming with us?”

“Yeah.” Evan stepped around Jesse, his arm brushed against him as he passed by. He looked back at him and waved. “Later.”

Jesse lifted his hand to wave, but Evan was already gone.

Kenny punched him hard on the arm and mocked Jesse’s words. “‘Maybe your label wouldn’t suck if you sealed up those cracks!’”

“I didn’t say it sucked,” Jesse said softly, rubbing his arm.

“You might as well have! And what was up with the ‘I’m legal’ bullshit to Evan Arden? I can’t believe you said that to
him
! What were you trying to do, flirt with him? You’re lucky he blew it off! He could’ve been really offended! He’s like a mega, superstar singer!”
“I know. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Once again, you weren’t. I can’t decide if this was a good night or a bad one, but I’m leaning more toward bad since your mouth just blew our shot at talking to a real record producer.”

A high female voice interrupted with shrill cry of, “Hey baby, I’m here!”

Jesse cringed at the screech and turned in time to see Kenny’s girlfriend, Carrie, bound in and throw her arms around his friend’s neck.

“I’m sorry I missed the show,” she said. “I just couldn’t get off work.”

“That’s okay. There’ll be more.” Kenny glowered at Jesse. “Maybe.”
“Uh oh. Sounds like Jesse screwed up again.”

“It’s really great to see you too, Carrie!” Jesse squealed, mimicking her high, bubbly voice.

 

Carrie flipped him off.

Kenny put his arm around Carrie’s waist and headed toward the door. “Hey man, you know what? I’m going home with Carrie. You can load all this on your own, right?”

Jesse nodded, recognizing his punishment. “Sure.”

He watched them disappear around the corner, then stood in the middle of the break room looking at all the equipment; three guitars, his bass, his keyboard, his synthesizer, their own mics, backup wires, his bag of extra clothes he always brought in case he wanted to change outfits before a show or put on clean clothes after. He sighed and shook his head.

Evan Arden. He had just met Evan Arden and let him walk away. He should have offered to buy him a beer, asked him more about what he thought of the show, anything, but what did he do? He stood there like a star-struck idiot. Now it all seemed like a dream that less than five minutes ago, Evan had stood right beside him. Jesse’s mind lit at the thought. It had been less than five minutes, which meant if he was lucky Evan might still be in the bar.

Jesse dashed out of the break room. He burst through the door leading to the public seating and walked a few paces toward the bar. His eyes scanned for him, disappointment filling him with each face he saw that wasn’t Evan’s. He should have known. A guy like Evan wouldn’t hang out in a place like this any longer than he needed to. Jesse lowered his eyes. He had missed his chance.

The delicious cologne he smelled before graced his nose. Heat from a body standing behind him warmed his back. He stood motionless, feeling as though he had slipped into a dream and didn’t want to disrupt it.

Evan leaned closer to him, his breath wisped past Jesse’s ear as he said, “Looking for someone?”

Jesse’s breath fled at Evan’s husky timbre. Slowly, he turned toward him, making sure to not take so much as a fraction of a step back that would increase the space between them. He gazed at him, noticing Evan stood only about an inch taller than himself. “I was looking for you.”

Evan wet his sensual smile with a slip of his tongue. “Is that so? And why would you be looking for me?”

Jesse fought down the urge to close the meager distance between them and lay his hands on Evan’s chest. Instead he smiled, keeping his eyes on Evan’s. “I wanted to talk to you about my performance and see if you could offer me some tips to be better.”

“Your performance, huh? Well, I suppose I could help you with that. I saw your guitar player leave with a girl. Did he ditch you to get laid?”

Jesse chuckled softly. “Yeah, and he’s pissed at me because he thinks I blew it with that Greg guy.”

Evan took a drink of his Guinness, his eyes never leaving Jesse’s. “I wouldn’t worry about it. You should hear some of the stupid shit I’ve done and said. Greg doesn’t hold stuff like that against artists, especially artists with talent.”

“That’s good to know.”

Evan tapped his beer bottle against his thigh as he contemplated Jesse. “Do you want to get out of here?”
Jesse nodded quickly. “Yeah. I just have to load my equipment.”

Evan started for the door leading to the back of the bar. “I’ll help you.”

Jesse walked beside Evan, trying to control his smile from growing overly large. As it was, it took all his energy to keep from sprinting down the hall and jumping for joy in the air. Maybe Kenny thought this turned out to be a bad night, but he thought it just might be the best of his life.

C
HAPTER
F
IVE

Jesse slammed the tailgate closed on his Ford Ranger pickup and leaned back against it, smiling at Evan standing in front of him. “Thanks so much for your help.”

“It was fun. I never got to do stuff like this when I was on the road. I had staff handle everything for me.”
“Well since you think it’s such a novelty, you’re more than welcome to help us set up and break down for every gig. You can be my first roadie. It’d be ironic, don’t you think? You striving to tend the needs of the next greatest singer in the world. It’s a level I bet not even you dared dream to achieve.”

Evan burst out laughing. “Not only are you a cocky little punk, but you’re delusional too!”

Jesse listened to Evan’s laugh, amazed even it sounded clear and musical. He found in his short time with Evan, the sight of his smile, the sound of his laugh, left him incapable of doing anything but the same, and he couldn’t help but study every move Evan made. He wasn’t used to being around another guy who he felt was more attractive than himself. Having watched Evan’s videos, read articles and interviews about him, he always thought Evan was beyond beautiful. Now standing close him, able to see each of his exquisite and refined features, he saw Evan was more stunning than all the cameras and photographs allowed for.

Jesse’s mind drifted back to Evan’s comment. “There’re no delusions about it. I will be the next greatest performer to take the stage.”

“Then I guess you don’t need any tips from me since you’re so confident.”

 

Jesse laid his hand on Evan’s arm. “No, I do need tips from you.”

Evan looked at Jesse’s hand.
Jesse eased his hand back and lowered his eyes. Now that was stupid. Just because he’d give his sunburst Strat to have Evan touch him, it didn’t mean Evan felt the same way. Sure, when they were loading the equipment he thought he caught some flirtatious comments or looks from Evan, but he couldn’t be sure if it was real, or if his wishful mind made him see hints that weren’t there.

From what he knew of Evan’s personal life, which Evan had guarded fiercely from the media, a different woman decorated his arm for every award show. Models, actresses, female musicians, Evan was used to being in the company of the most gorgeous women in the world. The last thing he’d want would be a male wannabe superstar drooling all over him. He needed to make himself realize that and calm down.