Joy Ride (15 page)

Yeah, sure. Except now there weren’t any right words
.

She slowly walked along the sidewalk, people in a hurry pushing past her. Every few seconds, she checked to see if Andrew was following her but no, he wasn’t there. At last she came to a hot dog vendor’s cart and bought herself a large soft drink. It was all her stomach could handle at the moment. She sat on the wide ledge of concrete planted at the end of the sidewalk, hitched her purse strap over her shoulder, and took a large gulp of her drink. The chilled liquid cooled the raw feeling in her throat and helped settle her erratic pulse.

How had things gotten so messed up? Why couldn’t she be happy with what Andrew offered?

But the answer was clear, so there was no sense going over the facts again. Even though she knew what she wanted, did she have the courage to grab it? And this wasn’t just about Marc, although, he was fast becoming a big part of it. No, she needed the freedom to explore herself and her life, to not be afraid of new things. By now she was past the initial exhilaration of the joy ride and what the excitement held for her. The big question was what did she do next?

The intensity of her feelings for Marc, especially in such a short period of time, actually frightened her. She had so little experience with men that were the complete opposite of Andrew. And her tenuous self-confidence made her wonder if she could believe all the things Marc said to her. Did he really care for her, as he indicated, or was she just selling herself a bill of goods?

As she finished her drink, her cell rang and she fished it out of her purse.

Annie. Of course. With the third degree. Just what she needed right now. Still, she’d gotten her friend involved in this. Maybe she could cut this short and tell Annie she needed to get back to work. She wasn’t up for dissecting her situation at the moment.

Sighing, she pressed the Talk button.

“Hi.”

“I thought for sure I’d hear from you this morning.” Annie chuckled. “Or did you have to call in sick at work and go to sleep?”

“No, nothing like that. I went to work.”
And doing a half-assed job
.

“Wait. I thought you fixed things up with Marc, the sexiest bass player in the world.”

At the mention of his name heat surged through her and her pulse stuttered. “I did. I just…I did.”

“And?” Annie wasn’t about to let go of it.

“And everything’s okay.”
Sort of
.

“Okay? Okay?’ Annie’s voice rose. “What the hell do you mean? I thought after the little grab and grope in the parking lot, you’d be going home with him again.”

Emma gasped. “You
watched
?”

Annie laughed. “Well, of course. I was dying of curiosity. You didn’t think I was just going to hang out twiddling my thumbs, did you?”

“I don’t know. There were a lot of hot guys in Aftershock. You could have paid attention to
them
.”

“I’m surprised you even noticed, the way your eyes were fixed on your sex god. What a lip lock he had on you.”

“I know,” she whispered, remembering the electric feel of his mouth on hers.

“So give. What happened? Did you go home with him again?”

“Um, yes. Yes, I did.” Heat crept up her cheeks, equal parts of embarrassment and sensual excitement.
No. I will not be ashamed of it. I am the new Emma, embracing life for the first time.

“Did you get around to telling him your name? And are you going back to the club again?”

Another sigh. “No. And yes.”

There was a heavy moment of silence. “You’re planning to see him again, but you still didn’t tell him your name? What is the matter with you?”

She didn’t know if this was just a short-term thing for Marc, despite everything he said. If he didn’t know who she was then he couldn’t track her down if in the future he was bored or between girlfriends. Or whatever. Open wounds took a long time to heal, and despite her Guitar Man’s assurances, she still had her own insecurities to deal with.

“Annie, try to understand. This is the most excitement I’ve ever had in my life, but I don’t know if this…thing with Marc will last. Not giving him my name is my safety net.”

“So if it doesn’t work out, you can run back like a scared chicken to your old life, right?” Annie didn’t wait for her to answer. “Emma, I thought you had more guts than that. You get up the nerve to reach for the brass ring but you’re afraid to hold on to it? Afraid you won’t know what to do
if
it all falls apart? Or you get your shit together and he shows up someday in the future and kicks it all apart again?”

Emma just sat there, silently holding the phone. Annie had just nailed it. Put into words exactly what she’d been thinking. Yet she couldn’t make herself stay away from Marc. What a mess she was.

“Listen, don’t mind me and my big mouth,” Annie said at last. “You do whatever’s comfortable for you.”

“You’re a good friend, Annie. I know a lot of times you’ve gotten frustrated with me. Maybe even wanted to shake me out of my neat life. But you always know when to push and when to hold back.”

“Just…enjoy yourself, okay? And I’m here whenever you need me.”

“Thank you.” Emotion made her throat tight and tears threatened at Annie’s words. If only her parents gave her such unqualified understanding. Annie wanted her to enjoy life. Her parents wanted her to be acceptable to their friends, with little regard for her feelings. She sighed. It was what it was. “I’ll…call you tomorrow.”

How different would her life be if her parents and Andrew gave her support like that? Of course, she probably would never have met her guitar man.

Marc!

She didn’t even want to think about the hoops she’d have to jump through if their relationship actually grew into something real,. Then she’d have to explain it to her parents.

Emma glanced at her watch and realized it was time to head back to the office. And her nagging headache had worked itself up to a full blown one. She couldn’t wait for the day to be over.

***

“Good rehearsal, everyone,” Rick said, unhooking his guitar strap. “We’ve got the new tunes down real good. Especially
On the Edge of the Woods
.”

“So we’re doing both the video and the audio tape this weekend?” Garrett asked. He wiped his drumsticks and put them away.

“Yeah. We’ll shoot the video at Jado’s on Saturday, and I’ve got studio time booked for Sunday with Scotty Redman.”

“He’s doing the mix himself, right?” Garrett asked.

Rick nodded. “He always does.”

“Good. That’s good. He really knows our sound.”

Marc listened to the conversation, feeling especially good about the whole thing. Scotty was a longtime friend as well as a top sound engineer. They’d been with him since the first demo tape they’d done. Although Marc loved writing the scripts, he was pleased he could focus on the project despite the uncertainty of the situation with his Music Lady. All the band’s hard work, all the discipline and long hours, and crummy jobs were about to bear fruit.

He had no idea what the future would hold for all of them if this gig worked, but they needed to grab the opportunity while it was there. Stuff like this didn’t come along all that often. How would ML react to it? Would she want to be part of it all with him?

The missing piece of my life—the right woman to share this with.

But first I have to make her trust me enough to tell me her name
.

Garrett, the one who always wanted to see the other side of the coin broke into his reverie. He frowned. “We’re really rushing and cramming everything into two days, you know. Is this one of those cross-your-fingers-and-hope-it-all-works-out things?”

Marc leaned against a high stool at the back of the stage, idly plucking his guitar strings, watching everyone’s reactions.

Rick shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Look. The opportunity came out of nowhere and it was either jump on it or lose it. We really don’t have a choice here.” He held up one finger. “One. This gig just opened up because another band had problems and had to back out.” Another finger. “Two. We’re getting better than our usual rate at both places because both Scotty and Jado had time available and are willing to cut us a big break.” He glanced around. “You guys want to dump this? Is that what you’re saying?”

“No, Rick. We’re not. We’re just asking question, okay?” Danny Chavez, the lead singer, slung a towel around his neck. “So what happens after we get this done?”

“Then I take the video and sit down with Butch Meredith, Deep Blue River’s manager and see if we can strike a deal.”

“He’s already seen us at Aftershock,” Garrett pointed out. “Why do we have to turn ourselves inside out to get this video done for him?”

Marc could tell Rick was losing patience. “He wants to hear the new song and see us perform it. And, I don’t know, there are other things he’ll be watching for. I’ll load the video onto my laptop and we’ll sit down and talk.”

Danny shoved his hands in his pockets. “This is nothing on you, Rick, but don’t you think we need someone whose business this is to do the sit-down? Maybe get us more than one shot with these guys?”

Marc saw a muscle jump in his friend’s cheek but the guy kept his cool, just as he always did.

“I understand your concern.” Rick rolled up a cord with deliberate movements. “But I think this is the right way to play this. Right now one shot is all we’re being offered. And only because an opening act scheduled had to cancel. Otherwise we wouldn’t even have this two weeks before the concert date. And there are plenty of other bands their manager could have contacted.”

“Let’s remember Rick’s the one who met their manager and developed the relationship with him.” This was something Marc thought he needed to remind everyone of.

“I know that. Can’t a guy put his two cents worth in?” Danny asked.

Rick put the cord down and blew out a breath. “Of course. But if I can make this work, get us the chance to open for Deep Blue River at the Amphitheater and we do a kickass job, we’ll get more dates with them. Plus, their record label guys will be there, and we can kill two birds with one stone.” He studied each of them thoughtfully. “If we blow it then a different contract wouldn’t matter, anyway, because we’d be toast.”

“Rick’s right.” Marc hitched his hip onto a stool on the stage and cradled his guitar. “You all remember when we put this band together. We identified the strengths each of us has and assigned responsibilities. It’s worked real well so far.” He studied Garrett, the worrywort. “Rick got us the gigs here and at the other two clubs we wanted to play, and he got us good money. Right?”

“Right.”

“Yeah.”

“And he’s been our point man on this whole deal.” Marc went on, keeping his voice calm and steady so he could get this across without an argument breaking out. They’d blow the chance before they could do anything with it if they lost it now. “The connection is his, something worth a whole lot more than bringing in a stranger, even if deals like this are his only business.”

Garrett threw up his hands. “Okay, okay. No big deal. It was just a suggestion. I thought it would help if Rick had one less thing to worry about.”

“Rick’s fine.” Marc turned to the guitarist. “Right?”

“Yes.” Rick’s answer was short, clipped, but his face was unreadable.

“And right now we all need to relax and not get on each other’s case. This could be the big break we’ve been waiting for.”

“We’ve done opening act tours before and ended up going no place,” Danny reminded them, “and Rick, that’s not on you. Shit happens. But we’re putting all our eggs in a real big basket here.”

“And we’ll be fine,” Rick said. His words were carefully measured but every line of his body screamed tension. “As long as we’re ready and hit our marks.”

“We’ll do it,” Marc said. “Okay, guys?”

The other two nodded.

Everyone was silent for a long moment until Rick finally smiled. “Okay, then. I say rehearsal every afternoon this week except Saturday when we shoot the video. Sunday, we record and mix and Monday, I sit down with Butch Meredith. We all good?”

There was a chorus of yesses.

“Then go home, shower and eat and be back here for the first set.”

Marc locked his bass in its velvet-lined case and headed for the back door when Rick stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Thanks.”

“No big deal. You and I have been doing this a lot longer than the other two, and they might get a little hinky once in a while. But it’s all good now.”

“Thanks to you.”

“So do I get more money?” he asked with a hint of laughter.

Rick chuckled. “Right after I do. Listen. I saw your woman come back again last night.”

“Yeah, she did.” For a moment heat surged through him, combined with anxiety. He hated the uncertain nature of their relationship, the tenuous feeling still swirling around it. He thought of her nearly every moment except when he forced himself to focus on the band and wondered if she thought of him, too. What kind of job did she have? Did daydreams of them interrupt her work?

“Hey, buddy.” Snapping fingers brought him back to the moment. “Where did you go?”

“Uh, right here.” He gave himself a mental shake.

“So how’s that going? Any better?”

Marc dragged his fingers through his hair, thinking of how once again she tried to leave without telling him until he woke up and caught her. And hating it. “I’d say…yes and no.”

Rick quirked an eyebrow. “Well, nothing like telling it straight out.”

“I know, I know. No, I really don’t know.” He looked at Rick. “Jesus, is that me talking?”

“’Fraid so. What’s the problem now?”

“The sex is great.
She’s
great. The best woman I’ve ever met.” And just like that the thought became reality.

“And you can tell that after being with her only twice?” Rick sounded skeptical. “You’ve never said this about any other woman you’ve been with.”

No, because they were all a product of the club environment and not what I really had in mind for myself. It wasn’t what rang my chimes. I want normal, whatever normal is. Probably different for everyone. But how to convince Music Lady?