She-Rox: A Rock & Roll Novel (28 page)

“It’s two in the afternoon,” T.J. countered.

Throwing the side van door shut, Eddie said, “We didn’t want to wake you.”

“That’s what the cleaning service is for.”

Slade took T.J.’s hand, brought it to his lips and kissed it. “I expect an expertly coutured pair of black leather pants roadworthy of a North American tour.”

“Oh, honey, you will
not
be disappointed. You’ll have every photographer, journalist and groupie from here to Montreal wanting to get a piece of your famous derriere,” T.J. assured.

Slade matched her smile. “I hope we meet again, Miss Tara.”

“Count on it, Slade.” She opened the passenger door, got in and sat down.

Slade walked Eddie to the driver’s side, put his arm around her shoulders and in a low voice asked, “When do I see you next?”

“Come see us at rehearsal.”

“No, Eddie,” he corrected. Sliding his hand down to the inside of her dark skinny jeans, he grabbed the metal of her belt buckle and pulled her close. She could feel his breath on her cheek. “When do I
see you
next?”

Confused, she whispered, “Well, that depends. When is Mrs. McAllister coming home from her deserted island?”

“Ooohhh,
jealousy
actually becomes you. Normally I can’t stand it in my women, but on you, it fits. I
like
it.”

“Mmm, I don’t get jealous, Slade. I don’t even know what the word means.”

Slade loved it when Eddie teased him. He felt like a naughty school boy smoking in the loo at boarding school all over again. He put his hands on her face and pulling her to meet his lips he took his “goodbye kiss” just the way he wanted it. Slade wasn’t used to women holding out on him, especially the ones he liked. With his considerable amount of experience, he took his time with the kiss, as it culminated from a slow motion and mounted. He was still surprised when he found it hard to break from Eddie when she matched his passion.

Pulling away from the kiss, Eddie was flustered. “Thanks for everything,” she said, and jumped in the van.

Slade couldn’t help the emotional high he got when Eddie turned coy and jumped away like a deer in the meadow that got caught drinking water from a cool stream. As she revved up the van motor, Slade took his last opportunity, gently slapped his hands down where Eddie’s window was open and said, “If you ever get tired of this old van and need to feel that vintage Marshall growling between your legs, ring me up and we’ll go for a spin.”

Eddie nodded and pulled away, heading down the long steep drive till she got to the main road to get out of Hollywood Hills.

“What’s going on between you two?”

Eddie sat silent, driving.

“What’s with the mini make-out session?”

“Oh, you saw that?”

“Yeah, I saw it. Did you ever call Kai back?”

Eddie shrugged. “I don’t know what to say.” The answer was meant to cover a wide berth. Stopping at the bottom and heading west on Hollywood Boulevard, she explained, “Look Tara June, there’s something you’re still not getting . . . my agency and Todd Rivers are expecting me to bring them an exceptional stage show. We have to deliver a private viewing that will blow their minds. We have to be absolutely red hot stellar and tight because if they don’t come out of there with dollar signs in their eyes, you won’t be my personal stylist.” Eddie looked over and caught T.J. pursing her lips, malcontent. “If Kai comes down to L.A. and we get into it for any reason, I’ll become a basket case and I don’t have the will power to put up with that. I have to stay
focused, really focused
.”

“Can’t you at least call him?” T.J. begged, “I promised.”

“I’ll call him when we get to the house.”

“I mean, whatever it is you got going on with Slade is totally your business.”

“There’s nothing going on between me and Slade, T.J.”

“It doesn’t look that way.”

“Slade’s
Slade
” Eddie asserted. “He’s just trying to get under my skin because I don’t melt at his feet.”

“I don’t know how you do that. I’d be puddle.”

When they got back to the Kat House, the others were all lying around the living room, watching TV, nursing hangovers.

“Hey, we got a phone call from Rachelle,” piped Gretchen. “Astral is booking us into the big room at the rehearsal space.”

With the upcoming private showcase, Astral booked the biggest sound stage they had, geared up to get bands ready for big tours, doing its best to mimic live playing on a larger scale.

“When do we start rehearsing?”

“Tomorrow.”

Eddie showed T.J. her bedroom, then went to the exercise room, to get some privacy. Sitting on the mini trampoline, she hit the send button to Kai’s number. He answered immediately.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad you called. I was hoping to hear from you. Did T.J. tell you I called yesterday, on your birthday?”

“Yes, she did, but let’s not kid ourselves . . . you didn’t know it was my birthday. You got lucky.”

T.J. was right. He was going to have to step up his game. “I’m sorry. I’ve been unfair.”

It was a featherweight lukewarm apology, and Eddie with perfect pitch ears had sonar for insincerity. “
Unfair?”
she mocked, “No, you’ve been more like the team captain of The Egotistically Deranged Gods of the Self-Absorbed. That would be far closer to the truth. And if you called to give me patronizing apology version two-point-one, then do yourself a favor and save it for the girl you’re sharing a microscope with, please.”

“
Eddie,
can we stop with the venom.
I get it.
I’ve been bad, okay?
”

“Wrong and bad.”

Feeling prostrated, Kai exclaimed, “You want to know what I’m sorry about? I’m sorry we’re apart. It’s turned me into a crazy person. I see your picture in the magazine, looking like some teenager’s wet dream and I can’t touch you, I can’t talk to you, I don’t see you. You’ve got this—I don’t even know what to call it—this video with page after page of the most lascivious remarks giving me visions of some sicko stalker out there tracking you down. It all just makes my head want to explode.” Lowering his voice, he gasped, “I don’t know how much more of it I can stand. These Hollywood hot shot moguls—they don’t know you the way I do. They’re exploiting my girl and I’m back here trying to study—it’s a lot to ask of anybody.”

“Are you breaking up with me again?”

“
No
, and please don’t go there.”

“Kai, my life is going in ten different directions and every one on fast forward.”

“Eddie, I need to see you.”

“Remember that exam you just finished?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s what I’m going through, Kai. I’ve got an MCAT.” She gave him the laundry list. “I have a major label breathing down my neck, an impending tour with a major act, an agency who wants to recoup the money they’ve put into this band, my songs on the line, and three other girls who are all counting on me to pull a rabbit out of the hat. I’m under a lot of pressure to put it all together with a neat little bow so the label can package and sell it to anybody with a pulse and put cash in their pockets. I have to deliver.”

Kai could hear the stress. He also heard determination and he loved her for it. She was such a headstrong little trooper. It was one of those “things” about Eddie that turned his furnace up. She had the drive of a man, but all the wiles and curves of a woman. It was her winning combination. Clearing his throat, he soothed, “Okay, I hear you.”

“I can’t take another emotional blood bath. They kill me.”

“Eddie, just let me fly down and see you. That’s all I ask.”

“I’ve got nothing but work and rehearsals for the next two months straight. If you come down, I can’t do breakfast, lunch, dinner, movies, drinks, sightseeing, shopping, nothing, you get what I’m saying?
Nada.”

“Your band is rehearsing on the fourth of July?” he asked.

“Hmm, I didn’t think about that—probably not.”

“Good. Until we get our two bodies touching, I’m going to be cranky. Besides, T.J.’s down there and I can hang out in L.A. with her just as easily. And if you get any time away from your busy, busy schedule of rehearsal and whatever else you got going, we will be there to pick you up.”

“Don’t get mad at me if I can’t spend the kind of time you think I ought to. I’m warning you now, Kai. I can probably get away on the fourth, but if I can’t do anything else, don’t let your ego get bruised. It’s nothing personal, its business.”

“Let’s give the ego bashing a rest, shall we? I’ve been shot at over the bow. I’m waving a white flag, here.”

“When, exactly, are you planning on coming down?”

“I’ll do it your way. You tell me what works and that’s what I’ll do.”

“Okay. Give me the rest of June. How about flying down on the first?”

“You got it. Anything else?-”

“Um, yeah, there is one other thing. I know T.J. is staying with me at the band house, but you can’t—it’s a house rule—no men are allowed to stay overnight in this house, which means you’ve got to get a hotel or something.”

“Not a problem. I didn’t plan on staying there anyway.”

“Oh, one last thing—”

“Yes?”

“If you don’t want to be riding around in my beat up van, you might want to get—”

“—a rental car—I figured as much.” It was all decided now. “Until then, my pet—”

Gretchen pushed open the soundproof door and cried, “Check out the new turf.”

The new rehearsal space was a massive stage flanked with black floor-to-ceiling bass bins, overhead colored lights built into aluminum trusses, and a 64 channel sound board. At the back was a bar area and four rows of black leather sectional couches to seat the fascinating mélange of industry heavy hitters.

“Yeah, now all we have to do is set up all over again,” Raven droned, seeing their band equipment in a cluttered pile.

Eddie surveyed the stage, noting the additional riser. Astral agency wanted to up the “wow” factor for the big showcase, sending in a small crew of stage hands to construct a two foot riser for Eddie’s keyboards. After the Troubadour gig, their new manager, Rachelle Klein, had commented, “I can’t see you.”

Music charts in hand, it was time to get down to business. “Guys, band meeting,” Eddie announced. Sitting down on the couches, she began, “I’ve got all the new material right here and it’s going to push you to your limit. This means rehearsal every night after work. Besides learning the new stuff, we have got to make that stage grow wings and take flight. No partyin’ till we sign on the dotted line. There’s no excuse for not showing up to rehearsal. I can’t stress strongly enough that we have to practice or we’re sunk. I need everything you’ve got, every drop of blood, sweat and tears, every conviction you feel, every—”

“Jeez, Eddie,
chill out
, already. They’ll
be
here.” T.J. had come along.

“Sorry,” Eddie apologized, “I guess I’m just a little—I feel like I’m walking through the valley of death.”

Ginger asked, “Did I miss something, or are you always wound this tight?”

“Okay, one last thing before I hand you the music.” Grabbing her purse and digging inside, she told them, “I wanted to have something like special guitar picks made, but I didn’t have time, so these are going to have to do.” She pulled a box of candy out of her purse and handed a piece to each one.

“Junior mints?” scoffed Raven, “you can’t be serious.”

“It’s all I had,” Eddie rationalized, “now hold out your hand.”

When all the girls held the mint in the palms of their hands, Eddie, started another discourse. “What you have in your hand, is your promise to this band, each other, the music and your instrument. Now take your holy sacrament,” she demonstrated with her arms out stretched, “and repeat after me:”

As above, so below

I’m wed to my music

Spinning song into Gold

My amps full of rage

My voice is on fire

Doubt not the gift

My guitar a magic lyre

They popped the ceremonial confection into their collective mouths, and T.J. muttered, “Somebody get me a barf bucket.”