Hard Rocked (4 page)

Dex’s gaze found mine and he smiled. I didn’t know what to do, but was fortunately saved by Joe and Liss’s appearance from behind me.

The flight attendant frowned at them, but not very sternly. “Please take your seats for landing.”

Liss brushed past me and I saw she was blushing, and her shirt seemed to be on inside-out. That, coupled with Joe’s swagger back to their spot answered the question of what they’d been up to. I wouldn’t have thought both of them could fit in the bathroom for very long, let alone move around in there. But the other thing behind my seat on the plane was the storage area and I knew that was full.

At least someone was had truly enjoyed the flight.

We touched down at Biggin Hill airport, about an hour from the center of London. There had been some documentation about why we were landing there, but I couldn’t remember it now. All I needed to know was that a bus would be waiting to take everyone to the hotel. At least it better be. I’d confirmed the time before we took off. There’d be staff to help load up the bags and important pieces of equipment the band needed to have on the flight, which meant we all would have some time to stretch our legs, and I could find somewhere to pee before hitting the road.

It was refreshing to wait to exit a plane without someone smacking me in the back of the head with a massive carry-on bag, or almost getting trampled by people from the back who couldn’t wait five minutes to move. It bummed me out to remember we’d be flying commercial for the rest of our time in Europe. I was completely spoiled after one seven hour flight. The thought amused me and I smiled as I helped Joe and one of the suit guys pull thing out of the storage area.

Surprisingly, everyone pitched in and we had the plane emptied quickly. I did find a bathroom and we all piled on the bus to drive into the city. I stayed up front with Ryan, going over a few things and coordinating for the next day, and managed to keep from looking at Dex. Mostly.

At some point I needed to figure out why he’d gotten to me, but all I could see behind my eyes was his sly smile and the way his eyes twinkled when he looked at me. Not that it mattered. Not that anything was going to happen between us. But I had to admit it was nice to remember the way he looked at me.

Three hours later I sank down onto the bed in my hotel room and sighed. In the rush to get everyone settled I hadn’t had a moment to think and that was just fine. And now, finally alone, I was too tired to do anything.

Some of the others were planning to go out, but I begged off. I needed some quiet, and a lot of sleep. We only had two days before the first show and a million things to accomplish first. I shed my clothes and left everything in piles on the floor to be dealt with in the morning.

I climbed into bed and watched the lights of London as I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep that ended all too soon.

When my wake-up call rang I wanted to dive back beneath the sheets and spend the day there. But I couldn’t, of course. So I got up, showered and went downstairs to grab something to eat.

In the light of the morning and after some much-needed rest I could actually appreciate the hotel. All I’d noted the night we arrived was that it seemed to be comprised of a block of old townhomes and it had a bed I could sleep in. It was smallish and trendy, called a “boutique hotel” according to my research. So far that seemed to mean expensive and almost aggressively modern in design and décor. Bright colors and shiny surfaces were everywhere.

Fortunately it also had a restaurant and I could smell the coffee I so desperately needed. I followed my nose to it and saw Ryan and his niece, Mia, sitting at a table together. She waved me over and I said good morning to both of them.

“Sleep well, Rebecca?”

“Yes, Ryan. Thank you. And yourself?” Something about talking to him turned me into some silly formal-talking television character. It irritated me and made me want to laugh at the same time.

“Well enough, I suppose. Mia here is feeling a bit of pain, however.”

“Why’s that?” I asked, nodding as a waiter brought over a carafe of coffee. I thought Brits mostly drank tea, but accepted that was probably a silly stereotype.

Mia groaned. “Unlike you guys, I wanted to spend my first night in London having fun. And I did. Too much fun.”

“I hope it was worth it.”

“It was.”

I grinned. “Good. Let me know if you need aspirin or anything.”

“I will.” She turned her attention back to the plate of toast in front of her and started eating, tearing off tiny pieces and slipping them inside her mouth.

It had been a while since I’d been that hung over, but I remembered the feeling, and sympathized. It made me feel old. Which was silly because I knew Mia was actually five years my senior. But I was getting used to it. Being the responsible, dependable one. I preferred it that way, even if I got occasionally wistful about spending my early twenties working hard instead of partying hard like so many of my peers.

Speaking of working, by the time the waiter had taken my order Ryan pulled out his tablet and was scanning it, giving me notes on the list of things we needed to do and forwarding emails he wanted me to handle.

“I’ve got three conference calls today, Rebecca, so I’m going to need you to take point on things.”

“That’s fine.” I’d been hoping to get something in my stomach before thinking about it, but no such luck.

“Excellent. Also, the bar we promised to visit tonight will need a visit sometime in the afternoon. The manager wants to talk to us about where to put the band for best visibility.”

“The welcome party is a public event? I didn’t see that in the packet.”

“It’s not public per se. They don’t have to perform or sign autographs. They’ll just enjoy the bar in a VIP section visible to the rest of the customers.”

“Okay, I see.” What I saw is he wanted to fool the guys into thinking it was a night off, while getting free drinks from the owner for putting them on show. Crafty, and kind of shitty, if you asked me. Which he didn’t. “I’ll take care of that on my way to the venue for tomorrow night. They said we could load-in equipment today and I’m going to check to make sure the crew has everything they need.”

“Excellent,” Ryan said with a genuine smile on his face. “I do appreciate how efficient you are.”

“Thanks. I try.”

“You’d never think the child of such a creative genius would be like that. Was your mother a secretary or something?”

My blood boiled at the suggestion that I was some kind of mindless drone, but I let it go. “No, she was a teacher.”

“Hmm. Interesting. How strange it must have been for your father. Oh well, they say opposites attract.”

I wanted to tell him my parents were anything but opposites. Wanted to snap about the long nights we’d spent as a family singing together, or how she used to sit next to him while he composed a song. But I had so few memories of them together before she died, they were private and I cherished each one. So I just made a noncommittal sound and went back to drinking my coffee.

The rest of the meal was fairly quiet.

“Well,” Ryan said after we’d all finished eating. “I’m heading back upstairs. Mia, I recommend you do the same, and get some rest. I’ll expect full coverage of the welcome party tonight.”

“Of course.” She smiled at me. “You’ll be there, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good. We can chat then.”

“I look forward to it.”

She stood up and started head off. Ryan stood too. “You’ll handle charging the breakfast to our rooms, yes?”

“Sure.”

“Fine. I will talk to you later.”

I nodded. Once he was gone I sank back into my chair and smiled. With a few shots of caffeine coursing through my veins and a fully belly, I was ready to face the day and the rest of the tour.

That night I barely did make it to the bar. I’d been running around all day and the work of showering, getting changed into something vaguely cute and dealing with my hair was almost my undoing. The same bed I hadn’t wanted to leave called me back, but I managed to fight.

I tried not to admit that part of the reason I spent so much time on my appearance was Dex. In straight-leg jeans and a filmy dark blouse that showed off what little cleavage I had, and my long hair cascading down my back like liquid gold, I had to admit I looked pretty good. Conservative enough to be staff, but casual enough that I didn’t look out of place there. I’d even slicked on some lip gloss and mascara, a truly rare occurrence.

And when the bar started to fill up and the party began to rage, I was glad for all of the preparations, personal and professional. The guys didn’t seem to care that the owner had stuck the so-called “VIP section” on a corner of a glass-enclosed balcony that reminded me of a fish tank, or that people passed by to take photos and just gawk at them.

Of course, it helped that the owner also kept the mobile bar rolled up next to our section fully stocked. I’d seen tons of hard-drinking musicians in the past, but it was still a bit of a shock how much they could suck down in a small amount of time.

Since there wasn’t much work for me to actually do, I spent most of the time just observing everyone. Joe and Liss retreated almost immediately to a quiet-ish corner after greeting me warmly. Matthew sat drinking beer after beer, basically ignoring the series of lovely young women who came over to try and get his attention. Rick managed to control his surly attitude enough to snag a girl for himself, but from what I could tell, his flirting was barely better than his rudeness. But, considering how the willowy brunette hung all over him, it must have worked for her. And Dex, of course, was the social butterfly, offering everyone a wink or a pat on the arm, flitting around gleefully as he drank his weight in whiskey.

He’d arrived after most of the others, toting a group of five or six people he introduced to me as “family-types.” But they must not have been close because within an hour all but one had disappeared, and she was the latest girl in line to try and drag Matthew out of his shell.

Mia sipped martinis and managed to snap a few photos while Ryan was there, but by the time he left she’d disappeared down to the dance floor, leaving her camera behind. I rolled my eyes and tucked it away for her.

As I nursed a glass of wine and wondered if I’d spend my entire six months with the band feeling like a babysitter, a familiar arm slid around my shoulder.

“Hi, Dex,” I said, hoping to sound casual and hide the flash of fear and excitement that went through me at his touch.

“Hello, love. What are you doing over here all alone?”

“Nothing. Just watching.”

“It’s a party. Not a film, you know.”

“I know. I’m having fun right here.”

“Liar. Join in. Get wild. You must be off duty by now. I don’t see your little book. That’s a good sign.”

“I am, yes. But it’s your party, not mine.”

“Nonsense. You’re part of the family now. What’s ours is yours.”

“That’s very kind.”

“Not at all. I’m always willing to share a party and booze I didn’t pay for.”

I laughed. “Good to know. So, is it nice being home?”

He plopped down next to me on a stool. “I don’t know if this is home to me. It’s familiar and friendly, no doubt. But I think now my home is wherever the road takes us.”

I groaned and looked at him.

“Fuck, that was trite.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“Obviously I’m not drunk enough.” He took a long drink. “Or you bring out the thoughtfulness in me. What little bit there is.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not always. But it is right now.”

“Then maybe you should leave me and go talk to someone more fun.” What I wanted to tell him was that I couldn’t believe he was wasting time with me, but I couldn’t admit to being that pathetic.

“Certainly not. I’ve missed you terribly, Becca. I was miserable all day.”

I snorted. “Yeah, right. I bet you were asleep all day.”

“Perhaps.” He shook his head and stared at me. “You never let me get away with anything.”

I shrugged. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I like it.”

“Dex, don’t start.”

“I’m not. I swear. Just being friendly. That’s allowed, right?”

“Of course.”

“Well then, friend.” He slung his arm over my shoulder again. “Shall we get drunk?”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Sure.”

“Fantastic. I hope you like liquor, I don’t believe in getting pissed on wine.”

“I can drink pretty much anything.” And I had. Growing up around rock stars meant I learned to party hard very early. I may have left that behind, but I figured I could pick it back up again for one night. The rest of the tour would be hectic with few breaks. I deserved a little bit of fun, even though a part of me knew it wasn’t safe to let down my guard around Dex.

“Anything? Be still my heart.”

We shared a laugh and made our way over to the bar; sharing stories of the most hideous alcohol-filled concoctions we’d each tried and recounting epic nights of drunken excess. He seemed genuinely pleased to see my stories matched his in outrageousness.

In the next few hours I felt like another person, and yet more myself than I’d been in years. It seemed ridiculous that I’d actually made a list of things to talk to each of the band members about to get friendly with them.

For Joe it had been tattoos. He had a few and I’d gotten one on my shoulder on my eighteenth birthday. It was a swirly line in red circling a monogram of my parents’ names. Virtually incomprehensible to anyone who didn’t know what it meant, but I kind of liked that too.

For Matthew I’d memorized an article about rhythm guitarists and their fans. I hoped he might not know that Chuck Berry’s distinctive ability to pick out rhythms previously handled by pianos had revolutionized rock and roll. Or at least start some kind of conversation with him.

For Rick I was hoping a few well-stated insults about someone might get him going, or at least garner an expression other than contempt. If nothing else he’d have a specific reason to dislike me instead of being rude by default.