Aftershock (30 page)

“Oh? Well, wow.” Macey directed her smile to Rick. “Thanks.”

“More key chains,” Sydney continued, “a drinking cup and a travel mug, so you can take the band with you wherever you go.” Finally, she pulled out was a Lightnin’ T-shirt and took a silver marking pen from her pocket. “And, as requested, Rick will be very happy to sign it for you.”

Macey arranged her face in a pout, directing it at Rick. “I was hoping you’d do it while I had it on.” She winked at him yet again. “Maybe across the front?”

“He can get a smoother place for his signature this way,” Sydney told her, ignoring the evocative suggestion and laying the garment out on the coffee table. “Rick, make it nice and big, okay?”

Rick barely hid his grin as he took the pen from her and wrote
To Macey, with special thanks, Rick Trajean.

“Here you go,” he told her. “A one of a kind.” He stood up before he handed it to her, easing away from her.

“Oh. Thanks again.” Her smile was that of a marauder hunting the kill.

“Always the joker,” Butch said. Sydney knew he’d been through this many times before with Macey and was sure he’d have to do it again. He pushed his chair back and rose. “Thanks, Macey. Once more, we really appreciate this.”

“I’m sure we’ll be seeing you again on the tour,” Sydney added.

“Oh, most definitely. Have laptop, will travel. I’m going to try and hit most of the tour stops.” Macey rose and gathered her things. “Thank you so much for the goodies.” She lifted the tote. “You know I always like to be first with new things.” She glanced at Rick as if expecting him to say something, then shrugged. “Okay, then. Will there be a backstage pass for me tomorrow night? As usual?”

“If you’re still in town,” Butch told her. “Syd will put you on the list.”

From the corner of her eye, Sydney watched Rick tense.

Butch rested his hand on the younger man’s shoulder, a silent signal for him to relax. Everything was under control.

“Of course.” Sydney held out her hand, a business card between two fingers. “I’m more than happy to take care of that. And, certainly, you should feel free to call me any time you want information. I’m always available.”

“I’ll just bet you are,” the woman said under her breath.

“Looking forward to seeing you again.” She opened the door to the hallway.

The smile Macey gave her was one part bitchiness and two parts hostility. “Oh, me, too. Of course.”

In a pig’s eye
.

They watched her walk away, hips in an exaggerated sway. She stopped, turned slightly, and blew a kiss to Rick. Then she disappeared down the hallway.

“Why do I feel like I need a bath?” Rick asked when the woman was out of earshot.

Butch laughed. “I often feel that way myself after a meeting with her. Okay, let’s all relax and discuss studio time and our plan for the release. Our next stop is Atlanta. That means backtracking, which I don’t usually like to do. However, I’ve had the date for the River there for some time. Tampa came up after we booked Atlanta so we’ll just make it work.”

“We can handle it,” Rick assured him. “But that’s a lot of driving for the road crews.”

The manager nodded. “Fortunately, or unfortunately, they’re used to it. However, the schedule also means we have four days before we hit the Carolinas. There’s a great recording facility in Atlanta I love using, so we’re going to take advantage of it to cut ‘Take the High Road.’”

Sydney opened her Notes section on her iPad and began entering items.

“What will you need from me?” she asked Butch.

“Short media releases that tease the recording session. And put in a reference to when the rest of the album will be cut. Which, by the way, won’t be for another three weeks.”

“Yeah,” Rick said. “I looked at the dates and noticed we come back to San Antonio after the Carolinas before we head out again. Does that mean our part of the tour is over then?”

Sydney waited just as tense as Rick for the answer. The original contract dates spelled out a fairly short tour. What would happen now? Would Butch make changes? She hoped?

Butch grinned at them. “Oh, hell, no. I should smack myself for not at least anticipating what’s happened.” He looked from Rick to Sydney. “You always hope you’ll get that one band that explodes on the scene. When I got the sales figures from the first night alone and saw the iTunes downloads, I realized I’d have to do some juggling.”

Sydney wet her lips. “That’s why you want to get the album done now?”

“You’re right. Originally I planned to tease the public with a release now, then another in a few weeks and slowly work on the album. But like last night’s deejay pointed out, Lightnin’ has struck. We need to take advantage of it, pronto.”

“Will the tunes come from their show performance?”

“Without question. The public is screaming for more so we’re going to give it to them. Syd, I’ll text you the info for the studio in Atlanta. You need to sit in on the session.”

Sit in? Sit in?

She wanted to pump her fist and shout,
Yes!
Not that she hadn’t observed sessions before, but this was
her
band and therefore special.

“I’ll be there. That’s a given.”

She avoided looking at Rick, afraid the shared excitement would be underscored with the ever-present heat that blazed between them. Tonight she’d talk to him and make arrangements for them to have a sit-down with Butch tomorrow. Her nerves snapped and fired as she thought about what they’d say and Butch’s reaction, but she also was smart enough to know, especially after today, how valuable Butch’s input and experience would be.

“When we get back to Texas, folks,” Butch continued, “I want the band to have one week of rehearsals before we hit the studio. And I’ll use the time to contact the venues for the rest of Deep Blue River’s dates on this particular tour. Let the managers know we’re keeping Lightnin’ as the opening act.” He finally took a healthy slug of his bourbon. “I don’t want to jinx us but with the reception so far, the sales of merchandise, and the downloads of the single I can see adding an extra night in some places.” He grinned at them both. “So buckle up, you guys. We’re gonna be in for a wild ride.”

“What about Emma?” Sydney asked. “She’ll have to get back to work after Tampa.”

“I plan to sit down with her and Marc this evening. With the dollars Lightnin’ generates, it’s worth my while to put her on as an assistant, pay her a salary, and make sure she’s at every show.”

Sydney’s jaw dropped. “You’d do that?”

“Hell, yeah. I’d be a fool not to.” His face sobered. “I just hope they don’t think I’m trying to buy them.”

“The fact is,” Rick interjected, “Emma can’t wait to quit that job. She has another career in mind, so I don’t think she’ll mind too much. Is it okay if I kind of pave the way with them?”

Butch nodded. “You guys have been friends for years. I think that would help. Thanks.”

“I’ll go over this other stuff with the rest of the band, too,” Rick assured him. Then he frowned. “Deep Blue River won’t get upset we’re horning in on them, so to speak, will they?”

“Are you kidding? They’ve been in your position before, done it, got the T-shirt to prove it. Anyway, they like you guys a lot, as well as your music. And they’re smart enough to see it’s a good blend with them. Rick, you and your guys are handling yourselves really well. You’re probably freaking out, but I’m proud of how you’re all dealing. You too, Sydney.”

“Thank you. I appreciate hearing that from you.”

Butch looked at his watch. “I need to get going. I’m meeting some people for dinner. Rick, you and Sydney need to take the band out for dinner tonight. She’ll put it on her agency credit card. It’s all worked out with Linc. But no Lightnin’ T-shirts and find some out of the way place. If we’re going to have a mob scene I’d like to have it tomorrow night. Okay? We good to go?”

They both nodded.

“Will you have any time available tomorrow?” she asked. “I know I’ll have a couple of things to run by you.”

“Sure. How about right before the soundcheck? We can meet in the lobby around one and catch a quick lunch here. And be ready for the calls you’ll be getting from the media you contacted here.”

She held up her phone. “Already got a bunch today. I told everyone I’d get back to them after our meeting. Did you want to sit in on any of the interviews? I know you’ll use your judgment about how to handle things so it doesn’t interfere with the soundcheck or anything. So just have at it.”

“No. It’s your ball game, and you’re doing very well. Set up the interviews you think will be the most advantageous. Just make sure to e-mail me which ones so I know what to track.”

“Works for me,” she told him. “And thank you.”

He opened the door and shook their hands. Then they were out in the hall. As they waited for the elevator, Sydney stared at Rick. She was sure she had the same stunned expression on her face he did.

“Holy shit,” he said at last.

“In spades,” she agreed.

They stared for another long moment.

Then Sydney cleared her throat. “I’m going to check out some places for us to eat tonight. Maybe the concierge has some suggestions. We’ll have to leave and return by the service entrance again. You know that.”

“If you asked me before this tour started whether I thought we’d have to avoid huge mobs at the various hotels, I would have told you you’re crazy.”

She laughed. “Maybe I am. Maybe we both are. But it’s a good kind of crazy.” Then she sobered. “Rick, after the meeting with Macey today, it might be wise to get out in front of our situation before she does some real damage. We want the publicity coverage to be about the meteoric rise of the band, not Rick Trajean and Sydney Alexander.”

“So what are you suggesting?”

“I think we need to clue Butch in on this and assure him it will not interfere with what’s going on. I don’t want him blindsided. That’s why I asked for the meeting tomorrow.”

He blew out a breath. “I guess you’re right.” He leaned forward. “If I didn’t think it would cause some real problems and take the focus away from the band, I’d be happy to shout it to everyone. You know that, right?”

“Me, too.”

One corner of his mouth kicked up in a crooked grin. “Big change of tune for you, Miss Sydney Alexander.”

She looked down at her hands. “I’m so mixed up inside, Rick. I never expected this to happen. At least not while all of this is going on. And you have to know I tried hard to fight it in the beginning.”

Rick took one of her hands in his, turned it palm up, and rubbed his thumb slowly over the skin. “Yeah, me, too. Probably all the baggage we tote around.”

“Hah! You don’t know the half of it.”

“Same goes. But maybe when we’re in Atlanta, if there’s time, or when we’re back in San Antonio, we can start unloading it. Sound good to you?”

“It does.”

He stroked her cheek with his fingertips and said in his slow drawl, “Then we’ll make it happen.”

***

The concierge recommended a good steakhouse for them and assured Sydney they’d be way out of the mainstream.

“We have bands here all the time.” She grinned. “A fun part of my job is figuring out ways to hide them in plain sight. This place is very casual and your guys will be able to relax.”

The excitement level at the dinner table zoomed into the stratosphere, especially when Rick gave the others the news about the stepped-up recording sessions.

“Holy crap!” Garrett blurted out.

“But wait!” She held up her index finger. “There’s more. Rick, you want to give them the rest of the good news?”

“Our tour as the opening act for Deep Blue River isn’t going to end in San Antonio,” he told them. “Butch is already making calls to let the promoters know we’ll be continuing on to the rest of the dates.”

They were all yelling and screaming now, bumping fists, grinning like maniacs. Sydney was laughing herself but she had to remind them they were in a public place. What if people got curious, asked the hostess about them, and the mob suddenly descended?

“So, let’s just dial it down a little, okay? For now?”

“Syd’s right,” Rick added.

“You’ll have lots of time for this when we get back to the hotel,” she explained. “Meanwhile, order thick steaks for yourselves and keep the alcohol to a minimum.”

“I’m sure you must have noticed,” Rick told her, “that we really have a lid on alcohol when we’re working. Even in the dressing rooms, most of the liquor and beer is for the guests.”

“I did,” she agreed. “Smart move.”

Danny had his phone out, texting his family and his flavor of the month. Marc and Emma kept grinning at each other. Rick had told her before they left for dinner he spoke with them about Butch’s idea and they were on board. Sydney did her best to appear relaxed and make sure everyone enjoyed themselves in this brief respite before tomorrow.

Somehow she managed to sit next to Rick throughout the entire meal and not show her impatience for it to be over. She couldn’t wait to be alone with him. To lock out the world for a very little while and make incredible love. To tell each other, even in whispers, how they felt. To deal with those brand new feelings so shocking and unexpected. Feelings they were allowing themselves to explore.

Dinner finally over, everyone’s excitement level now manageable, they cabbed back to the hotel. They all keyed the entry to their individual rooms and disappeared inside. Instead of helping her with the lock tonight, Rick slid a sideways glance at her and mouthed, “Ten minutes.”

Ten minutes. Time enough for a quick shower and to shave her legs. For a wild moment she wondered if Rick liked his women shaved
everywhere.
Then she went back to spreading scented lotion everywhere. Thoroughly. A walk through a mist of perfume, a little lip gloss and mascara. Done.

Although she’d packed only a carry-on suitcase, at the last minute she’d optimistically tossed in a pale green shortie silk nightgown. A frisson of anticipation brushed her skin as she slid it on, the fabric so smooth and light against her body.

She opened the drapes to let in the brightness of the full moon and wondered if she should turn on the corner lamp to its lowest setting. No, moonlight had worked for them the other times and gave an air of seclusion, of privacy. She took one last look in the mirror just as a knock sounded on her door. Three quick raps. Pause. Three quick raps again. They hadn’t arranged some kind of signal yet, but it could only be Rick. Sure enough, she looked through the little peephole and there he was, hair still damp from his shower, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Butterflies beat an accelerated tempo in her stomach as she opened the door.