Between a Rock and a Hard Place (48 page)

BOOK: Between a Rock and a Hard Place
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Traveling on the tour bus hadn’t lost its novelty yet, even though spending the night in extravagant hotel suites was much more to Angel’s liking.  It was the bus that always reminded him that he was a rock star.  He particularly loved the landscapes that glided by alongside the road.  He moved the curtain from the window and was greeted with the green fields and majestic mountains of Switzerland.  It was something right off a postcard.

Angel wondered if the luxuries that the label voluntarily offered on this tour had anything to do with Audra’s participation.  He never realized how much pull she actually had in the company and in the music sector until recently.  She was obviously well-respected and destined to follow in her father’s footsteps.

He made himself a cup of coffee and slid into the booth in the kitchen area and bumped his knee on the leg of the table.  He chuckled under his breath.  Well, maybe life on the tour bus
was
losing some of its novelty.  Alyssa was seated across from him, quietly reading the newspaper.

She looked up at him when he sat down. “Damien told me the album’s done.”

Angel broke out into a wide grin.  “Yes.  And it’s going to be a hit.”  He was relieved that they didn’t have to slave away in the studio anymore and proud that they delivered some of their best work.

“What happens now?”

“Angus sent the CD to Mr. Abelman for his approval, but it’s really just a formality.  Then we have to pick which songs make it and which we shelve.”

Angel’s phone buzzed in his pocket and Mr. Abelman’s name lit up on the display screen.  “Shit.  That’s him calling now.”  He slipped out of the booth and tried to act calm while a half dozen reasons for the personal phone call bounced around in his head.  Angel swallowed his anxiety and sounded casual as he answered the phone.  “Hello Mr.  Abelman, how are you?”

“I am without words, Mr.  Garcia.  Few times in my life have I been stunned into silence, and this is one of them.”

Dear God, what now? Angel moved further into the bus for privacy and ended up in the bathroom for solitude.  It was cramped and it stunk, but at least it served as a buffer to the hijinks that were always audible in the background on the bus.  This time when he spoke the unease was prevalent in his voice.  “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.  What happened?”

“Angus Jackson sent me the CD of sample songs for the new album.  I just got through listening to it, and I needed to speak to you right away.  I’ll make it brief.  This collection is one of the best pieces of music I’ve heard in years.  I predict five number one hits.  Tell Mr. Blade that his fusion of heavy metal and punk rock blew this little baby over the top.  I want all of you at my studio to work with my production crew the second you’re back in the United States.”

Angel could barely speak for fear of sounding like a babbling fool.  He pulled the phone away for his ear, covered it with his free hand, and fell to his knees.  He brought his hands to his chest and mumbled a short prayer of thanks in Spanish.  He heard Mr. Abelman’s voice and quickly brought the phone back to his ear.  “Yes, I’m here.  I’m sorry.  I’m just overwhelmed.  Thank you for believing in us and giving Immortal Angel the opportunity to share our music with the world.”

“You earned it, Mr.  Garcia.  You all did.  I may not give your bass player and drummer a lot of praise, but they’re top shelf.  One more thing, before I miss my meeting altogether I want you to play
Rock Goddess
at your next show.  It’s your first single.”

 

Chapter Forty-Six

They left earlier than usual for the arena so the band could practice
Rock Goddess
.  They were all nervous about debuting the song in front of a live audience, when they only learned it a few days ago.  Tommy knew it because he wrote it for Jessi, but it was still relatively new material for everyone else.

Fans were already lining up outside the venue when they arrived.  The band was hours earlier than expected, so it was only a small crowd of about 20 people.  Still, it was exhilarating to see their faces light up when the band stepped off the bus and to hear the girls squeal when they stopped to sign autographs and take photos.

Once inside, they went to work right away so they could run through the new song and work out any deficiencies.  It was the first time Jessi would hear the transformation from the acoustic version Tommy sang to her in the hotel room only three days prior.  She sat in the empty stadium seats with Alyssa and waited for them to start.  Tommy looked around the vacant arena.  They were like two small dots in a fishbowl that held over 15,000 people.  It was hard to believe that in a few hours the seats would be filled to capacity.

He watched as Jessi folded her arms across her chest and settled into the metal folding chair with ease.  Alyssa stretched her legs and rested her boots on the back of the seat in front of her.  He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they were both huddled together laughing and whispering the way two girlfriends often did.  He couldn’t remember the last time Jessi sat in on sound check or the last time she sat in the audience while he played.  It reminded him of the old days at The Quadrangle when she was always front row rocking to the music and pumping her fist in the air.

The first time they played the song through, it was a little rough, but Jessi perked up and sat on the edge of her seat.  With her hands braced on her knees, she leaned forward and listened intently.  Since the song needed to flow with the rest of Immortal Angel’s material, the lyrics changed a bit and the beat was faster.  Even though it was marginally different, he knew she loved it by the dreamy look on her face.

Jessi approached the stage as soon as they finished the song.  The heels of her shoes echoed in the silent arena as everyone waited for her.  Words weren’t necessary as she gazed into Tommy’s eyes and fed him the sentiment that was in her heart.

“Do you mind that we changed the song a little?”

The smile that spread across her face was the most beautiful sight Tommy ever saw.  “I love every bit of it.  It’s a hit and every time I hear it on the radio, I’ll know it’s because of me that you wrote this song.”

He took her hand and kissed it.  “I could write a song for you every day of the year.”  He swung his guitar to the back and took her into his arms.  His face was lost in her fragrant, rosy hair and created a curtain of cherry-scented decadence.

“Excuse me.”  Angel placed his arms around both of them.  “I think we need to tighten up the timing on this song a little more.”  He wore a teasing smile.  “But we can continue this little love fest as soon as we’re done.”  Angel gave Jessi a quick peck on the cheek.  “Sit back down, sweetheart, while we practice.”

“No.  I think I’m going to wait backstage or go outside to visit with the fans.  I want to hear you play the song tonight with a fresh ear.  It’s going to be very emotional for me to hear the audience’s reaction to it.”

The familiar rush of energy filled Tommy’s gut as he peered out at the waiting crowd from the side of the stage.  The fans expressed their impatience with a series of howls and whistles.  The lights went down and the screams began.

The wail of Tommy’s electric guitar announced their presence as he ran on stage and slid to his knees.  His fingers ran up and down the fret board with rapid fire, delivering notes with alarming velocity.  He was so engrossed in watching the speed in which his fingers moved that he didn’t realize the rest of the band was waiting to start the show.  One long twang of the whammy bar and he held his guitar over his head offering it to God above.  The stage shook as the crowd screamed and stomped their feet.  Angel put his hand on Tommy’s shoulder and beamed a proud smile down at him.

Angel looked into the crowd and took in their thunderous applause and shouts of praise.  He took a step back and pointed at Tommy and yelled into the microphone, “Ladies and gentlemen, Mr.  Tommy Blade, the Prince of Punk Rock!”

A roar coursed through the arena that made Tommy’s inner ears vibrate.  A rose landed at his feet and he weaved it through his guitar strap.  Angel leaned over, put his nose to the flower and smiled at him with sweet affection in his smoldering dark eyes.

Damien joined them and they took in the cheers of the audience together.  The sense of self-esteem that it instilled in Damien was visible in his proud stance.  He teased Tommy with a pierced eyebrow.  “And you were going to give all this up?”

Tommy listened to the voices that shouted his name.  He looked up to the balcony at the Immortal Angel banners that hung down from the railing and watched the fists that pumped in the air.  It filled him with a euphoric high.  It was hard to imagine how close he came to walking away from the band and the stage, but he paused while he searched his heart for an honest answer.  “Yes.  For Jessi I would give this up, but luckily, my wife is just as vested in this lifestyle as I am.”  He fell to his knees again and spit out a crazy riff, then jumped up and faced Jimmy.

He was standing behind his drums, waiting for a cue.  Angel nodded, Jimmy clapped his sticks together and the stage erupted with the raw energy of
Adrenaline Rush
.

Angel stood at the front of the stage, legs shoulder width apart.  Tommy watched Angel jiggle his knees to accentuate the lyrics.  It caused his perfectly round butt cheeks to flex to the beat of the music and his pants to slip down from his hips and expose a tiny bit of ass cleavage.  Tommy sneaked up behind him, jutted the guitar forward, offering a melody to the black leather that could barely contain the glory underneath it.

Angel spun around and placed his hand on Tommy’s chest, forcing him to walk backwards as he sang the aggressive lyrics, inching his face closer as they moved from the front of the stage to the back.  In one leap, Angel jumped onto the drum riser.  He placed his foot on the bass drum and leaned over to sing to Jimmy, who wasn’t happy that Angel was using his Tama kit as a foot stool.  Tommy’s eyes drifted up and settled right between Angel’s legs and the protrusion that threatened to rip the seams apart.

Tommy bounced away before he did something to Angel on stage that would get them into trouble again.  He circled Damien and teased him with a dramatic dip of the guitar.

Damien was one cool bassist.  He played with precise concentration, never missed a note and rarely looked up from his bass.  He was too engrossed in the music to join in Tommy’s antics, but Tommy was determined to get a reaction from him.

He jumped in front of Damien and swung his hair in the air, but Damien chased him away with an aggressive stomp of his boot.

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