Love Evolution (6 page)

When they arrived at the restaurant, Stephen escorted them to a back room where Marcus was already waiting at the end of a long table. Avery sat down across from him, ordering a Coke from the waiter. Stephen and Trevor went over to the far corner to discuss Avery
’
s contract.

“
Ok, those guys are exempt. As for the rest of us,
”
Dwight cautioned, looking sternly at his brother,
“
no talking business. Let
’
s just have some fun.
”

Marcus
’
lip curled.
“
Whatever you say,
blondie
.
”

“
How many times do I have to say it, bro? I am not a blond. My hair is red with blond highlights.
”

“
Yeah, keep telling yourself that
bro
’
sef
.  But sounds to me like you
’
re in denial.
”

Dwight snorted.
“
And you
’
re delusional.
”
By the time dinner arrived, Trevor and Stephen had taken seats at the table with the others.

‘
Things must have gone well,
’
thought Avery, noting Trevor
’
s Cheshire
Cat
grin. As the meal progressed, she observed the two brothers. Dwight had the rest of them in stitches with his animated accounts of the band members
’
various foibles and misdeeds. Marcus mainly stared into space with his piercing blue eyes. The only evidence that he was paying attention was the occasional wry comment that he interjected.

Dwight reminisced about how he was the one who used to get all the girls,
“
that is, until Marcus started singing lead vocals. The bassist never gets any respect.
”
 

As the others were letting Dwight know just how full of it they thought he was, Marcus asked Avery,
“
Why do you do that?
”
 

“
Do what?
”

He motioned toward Avery
’
s dessert plate, which had a small amount of flan left on it.
“
Leave one bite on your plate. You did the same thing with dinner.
”

“
Oh, I didn
’
t realize I did that. Thanks for noticing.
”
She lifted her eyebrows at him.
“
It
’
s my sad way of trying to control calories. I was overweight as a kid. I guess it
’
s just left over neurosis
…”
She trailed off.  If he wanted to point out her idiosyncrasies, turnabout was fair play. She had this irresistible urge to tease him.
“
I noticed how you separate everything out on your plate before you eat it. So nothing is touching. What
’
s up with that?
”
she fired back.

Marcus started to deny that he did any such thing, but Dwight chimed in,
“
You do, man. Always have. It
’
s creepy.
”

“
Yeah,
”
Avery agreed.
“
It all mixes up in your stomach anyway. What
’
s the point?
”

“
Touch
é
,
”
Marcus conceded.

Dwight nodded his head.
“
You
’
re going to be alright, Avery. Just don
’
t let my brother run roughshod over you.
”

In the end, Avery reluctantly admitted defeat in the taco eating contest. Dwight won, having completely gorged himself, with Marcus coming in a close second. As the party began to break up, Marcus offered to drop Avery at the hotel. 

“
No, I
’
ll take him home,
”
Trevor interjected.
“
We have a lot to discuss.
”

Marcus was disappointed, but for the first time in a long while he was actually eager to get back in the studio. He called out to Avery as she was walking toward the door,
“
Hey, I
’
d like to get started right away on the songwriting.
”
Motioning toward the middle aged, well-built man leaning inconspicuously against the doorframe, he asked her,
“
Can I send Ray to pick you up tomorrow around 10:30? We could work at the studio in my apartment.
”
 

“
No way!
You have a home studio?
”

Marcus nodded with a cocky grin.

Dwight added drily,
“
My brother is a man obsessed.
”

“
Ok, tomorrow is fine. I
’
m staying at Sutton Place.
”
Avery was just as eager as Marcus to get started, wondering if they could transfer the chemistry they had in the studio to songwriting. But even more than that, she looked forward to spending time with him
…
alone.

CHAPTER 7 

The next morning, Avery was inundated with stacks and stacks of paperwork to sign. Marcus had been very generous. She would have more than enough money to pay back Campanella with $350,000 up front and a percentage of sales from every song she helped co-write on the first album.

“
Holy Crap!
”
she exclaimed and had to sit down while Trevor explained the rest of the terms. Her brain finally came back on line when he started talking about a clause that gave Brutal Strength veto power over any solo work, should she decide to do any in the next two years.

“
It
’
s not uncommon,
”
Trevor assured her.
“
It just goes to show you how serious Marcus is about trying to control every detail that might possibly affect the public image of his band.
”

Of course, Black Cat required her to pee in a cup. Drug testing was standard when so much money was involved. Pending the lab results and the finalization of the paperwork, she realized with chagrin that it would be at least a week before the money actually changed hands.

Shortly thereafter, a red headed, freckle faced fellow not much older than Avery arrived. He told them his job was to give them a tour of the recording studios and home offices of Black Cat.  First he led them upstairs to a huge corner office to meet the CEO, Mary Timmons. A petite framed, beautiful woman with her short dark hair styled in a shoulder length bob, she wore a smart but severely cut black business suit.
Everything about her screamed no- nonsense.
She firmly shook Avery
’
s hand, telling her pointedly that she expected big things from her. Avery wasn
’
t positive, but she could have sworn she heard Mary add in a mumble,
“
because
Marcus thinks guys are so much better.
”

Out in the corridor, Trevor whispered to Avery,
“
She
’
s a bit bossy and intimidating, but other than that Mary
’
s ok.
”
Down the hall they entered the significantly smaller office of the Vice President of Public Relations. Beth Tate was an attractive lady with beautiful gray green eyes and a friendly smile.

“
You will be seeing a lot of me,
”
she told Avery.
“
With your good looks, we
’
re already making plans to get you introduced to the public right away.
”
She turned to Trevor, mimicking a phone receiver with her hand.
“
Call me, Trevor. I
’
ll give you the details.
”

Next the aide took her to a supply room to check out a cell phone. He wiggled his red eyebrows at her.
“
Mary insists that she be able to get a hold of you at all times.
”
 

“
I
’
ve never had one before
…
couldn
’
t afford it.
”
Avery looked at it apprehensively.

“
Don
’
t worry. It
’
s easy to use. I
’
ll give you a crash course,
”
Trevor told her.

The production manager, Dalton Humphrey, was the last introduction. Avery thought he was nice enough looking, but the guy had way over-gelled and spiked his grey hair to the point that it looked a little dangerous. The laugh lines around his eyes gave testament to a happy disposition though, and he smiled warmly at Avery confirming it.
“
I hear you and Marcus are getting started today writing me some songs.
”

She nodded, seemed like news traveled fast around here.

“
Great, we need someone to light a fire under him.
”
He patted her on the back.
“
I look forward to working with you, Avery.
”

Trevor touted Dalton
’
s industry wide reputation for being a veritable genius at mixing songs.
“
He has been on a real roll lately. You
’
re really lucky to be working with him. The last couple of albums he helped produce were huge successes.
”

Avery left Trevor at Black Cat and caught a taxi back to her hotel. The uniformed doorman held the door open for her when she arrived. Entering the opulent lobby, she spotted Ray sitting in a tufted club chair waiting for her.
“
Give me a second to grab my gear,
”
she told him, breaking for the elevator.

“
No problem, Mr. Jones,
”
Ray called after her. 

“
None of that stuff.  My friends call me Avery.
”
She winked as the elevator doors closed.

When she came back down with two guitar cases, he shook his head.
“
You know, Marcus has plenty of instruments you can use.
”

She smiled.
“
I know, but I like the feel of my own.
”
He helped her load up her instruments into the trunk of the Mercedes.

On the drive over, Ray seemed reserved.
“
How
’
s your day going?
”
she asked, hoping to break the awkward silence.

Ray glanced at her in the rearview mirror.
“
I
’
m ok.
”

“
You don
’
t sound ok.
”
Avery met his gaze, noting the stressed look in his eyes.

“
You don
’
t want to hear about my troubles.
”

“
Ray, if I didn
’
t want to know, I wouldn
’
t have asked.
”

Ray raised a thoughtful brow. This one seemed different than most of the people he carted around for Marcus. They never even looked him in the eye. Avery had manners and treated him like he was a person instead of a servant. He decided right then and there that he liked this guy. He was a definite change of pace from the usual sycophants who hung around Marcus.
“
I
’
m a little concerned about my mom,
”
he confided.
“
She
’
s sixty years old and has been in the hospital for a week with pneumonia. It looks like the second antibiotic might be doing the trick though.
”

“
Oh, I
’
m sorry to hear that, Ray. I
’
m sure you
’
ve been worried sick. Have you been to see her today?
”

“
No, but I
’
m going to swing by as soon as I see you up.
”

“
Good. That
’
s good. Never take your mother for granted Ray. Tell her you love her every day, you know.
”

By the tone of Avery
’
s voice, Ray guessed something really bad had happened to his mom. He nodded.
“
Yeah, I
’
ll make sure to do that.
”

Within minutes they were out of downtown proper, and soon pulled into the underground parking garage at Marcus
’
waterfront high rise building west of downtown. Ray keyed in the code to Marcus
’
private elevator. When they reached the 30th floor, Marcus was there to greet them in the foyer.

“
Thanks, Ray.
”

“
Sure, boss.
”
He set down the guitar case he
’
d held. Avery had insisted she carry the other one.
“
Just call me when you are ready for me to take him back.
”
 

Marcus nodded and turned to Avery.
“
How
’
d it go this morning?
”

“
Great,
”
she answered, filling him in on the details.

Avery was one of only a handful of people who had been up to Marcus
’
apartment in the few months since he
’
d moved back to Vancouver. For the past ten years, he
’
d made LA his home, at least nominally. In reality, it had only been a base of operations for when he wasn
’
t on the road, which hadn
’
t been very often. Sober, he no longer fit in with the fast lane group of so-called friends he
’
d had in the land of the pretenders. He told himself it didn
’
t matter. Native Canadians didn
’
t belong in tropical climates like LA,
and  he
was glad to be back in his old stomping grounds.

Marcus noticed that Avery seemed nervous, standing in the foyer, doing that fidgety stuff. His right leg was shaking like he needed to go to the bathroom, and he hadn
’
t put down his guitar case yet. They
’
d never work effectively together if the dude didn
’
t loosen up around him.  Wanting to break the ice, Marcus asked,
“
Would you like something to eat or drink?
”

“
You wouldn
’
t have any hot tea, would you?
”
Avery blew on her cold hands.
“
Vancouver feels colder than New York.
”

“
Yes actually, I do. Do you like
Roibos
? 

“
I love it. I have a Kenyan friend,
Sangeeta
, back in New York who introduced me to it.  What about you?
”

“
Oh, I guess I
’
ve always liked hot tea. They say it
’
s good for the vocal cords.
Roibos
is supposed to be a really healthy one, antioxidants and all that crap.
”
He headed back to the modern galley style kitchen just off the living room.
“
Make yourself at home. I
’
ll be right back.
”
 

Avery stepped into the living area while she waited, feeling completely out of place. The layout was vast, probably taking up half the square footage on this floor. The apartment was masculine, ultramodern, and expensively furnished. Not a second hand thing in sight. A huge black leather sectional took up most of the main living area. The matching upholstered pieces were gray with complementary accent pillows in various shades of beige. All together it looked like something out of a
Cantoni
furniture showroom. 

“
Wow!
”
she exclaimed, noticing for the first time that the entire wall in front of her was made of glass. She moved closer to check out the panoramic ocean view. Looking slightly to the left, she could see Stanley Park and to the far right the iconic sail sculptures of Canada Place. 

“
Yeah,
”
Marcus said sheepishly as he came back into the room with tea.
“
That
’
s how most people react when they see the view from up here. It
’
s what made me buy the apartment.
”
He handed her one of the steaming mugs.
“
Wanna
see the studio?
”

His excitement reminded her of a kid showing off his newest toy.
“
Of course,
”
Avery smiled.
“
I still can
’
t believe you have an actual studio in your apartment. That is so cool.
”

She followed Marcus down a long hallway, passing a guest bathroom. The second door led into a huge soundproofed studio, as big as the one at Black Cat, filled with state of the art technology. Of all the gadgets, he seemed to be especially fond of his
Korg
Kronos
88 keyboard synthesizer.

Demonstrating some of the sounds it could produce, Marcus explained,
“
I really like how it
can  integrate
multiple tracks and effects.
”