Aftershock (5 page)

She entered the main part of the theater to see they were, indeed, all on stage and waiting for her. As she let her gaze take them in she realized there was nothing to make them stand out. They looked like any other rock band at rehearsal, dressed in old jeans and T-shirts. Today what they wore didn’t happen to be grungy, an acknowledgment that they were going to have an audience of one. Sydney respected the fact Rick wanted her to see them live, even in this setting. Still, she wasn’t sure if it would change her mind as to the direction she wanted to take. She had seen plenty of rock bands live, many of them from the wings when she assisted a senior rep, and she always thought the videos, with all those special effects, captured the audience more.

“You haven’t seen the right band yet,” Linc Forrester told her once. “When you do, they’ll make every nerve in your body burst into flame with their music alone.”

Maybe. She wasn’t so sure, but that was why she was here today.

Rick’s gaze locked onto her as soon as she started down the aisle. Traitorous hormones tried to leap up and do a happy dance, but she ruthlessly suppressed them. A very difficult process, since the closer she got to the stage and Rick, the more his presence invaded her senses. Did he have to look so dark and dangerous? Be so damn sexy?

She skirted the front row and reached up a hand to him, trying to ignore the fact that he took in every inch of her. And that beneath lashes sinfully thick for a man, those eyes were filled with a smoldering heat that pierced her to her very core. God, she hoped no one else saw it. But then he blinked, the look was gone, and she wondered if she’d imagined it.

“Thank you for doing this.” She planned to be as polite and businesslike as possible. “I really appreciate it.”

Rick took her hand and the instant they made contact that same jolt of awareness burned through her. And maybe he held on a second too long before releasing her. He took a step back.

“We’ve put together a short set for you that we think best represents who and what we are,” he told her. “We don’t have proper lighting or anything so I hope you can use your imagination.”

“No problem.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Any place special I should sit?”

The band members stopped fiddling with their equipment and watched intently.

“About five rows back would be good. You won’t be right on top of us but still close enough to get good sound.”

“Okay.”

She settled into her seat, pulled her iPad out of her purse to take notes, and sat back with an air of expectation. Rick wasn’t looking at her now. Instead he engaged in quiet conversation with the band, maybe going over some last-minute details. Sydney wished now she’d gone to see them live at
Aftershock
right after all the contracts were signed. She hadn’t needed Rick to point out that tapes didn’t create the same ambience or the same connection to the music. But at the time, she’d thought she would just be, as usual, an assistant on the project.

Not a good excuse. Assistant or lead, I still should have made it my business to go hear them live. Although I’m not sure it would have changed my mind
.

Well, she’d hear them now. And despite the videos, she wasn’t sure she knew what to expect.

They all moved into their places, Garrett up front and in the center, Marc stage right, and Rick stage left. The lights were harsh and the sound system meant just for their ears, but the moment they hit the downstroke of their first song, Sydney was mesmerized. The atmosphere of the old theater fell away at once, her attention captured by the energy of the musicians on stage.

Their music was emotionally charged, full of life and energy. Danny was the lead singer but both Rick and Marc had solos. And when all their voices blended she felt as if they sang to her alone. Not as professionals, but like the Sirens who seduced so many sailors. Rick, on lead guitar, was nothing short of amazing. Exhilarating. Transfixing. His fingers danced over the strings like an angel’s wings, plucking just the right sounds.

As the band moved through the set Sydney found herself immobilized by the effect of what she heard. She could imagine them in the atmosphere of a darkened rock club, spotlights hitting the stage, the people on the dance floor and in the booths mesmerized by the intensity of their music. It didn’t seem to matter what the tempo was. Fast or slow, it had the same spellbinding effect.

They closed with “Music Lady,” the song Sydney knew Marc had written for Emma. As she listened, she blinked back tears. The notes vibrated through her body and the final chords rocketed through her much like the intense spasms of an orgasm. The last note faded but still she sat there, awestruck. Rick had been right. She’d needed to see them live. The videos were great, but they didn’t capture the band’s essence or vitality. Now she knew what Linc Forrester meant. She was so enraptured she’d never even thought about taking notes.

“Sydney? Miss Alexander?”

Rick’s voice shook her out of her immobility. She looked at the stage and realized they were all staring, waiting for her to comment. She pushed up from her seat, walked down to the edge of the stage, and cleared her throat.

“That was….” She searched for the right word. “Incredible. And that’s a very weak description. Your music really comes out and grabs people.”

Rick gave her a lopsided smile. “Change your opinion of us?”

She shook her head. “No. Only reinforced it. You guys blew me away.” She looked at the other musicians. “But I do have some thinking to do now.”

“We’re much better with the proper lights and sound equipment,” Marc told her. “The right atmosphere.”

“Oh, I think it says a lot for you that the dynamism of your performance comes through so solidly without it.” She looked at Rick again. “I’d like to structure the promo around that very thing.”

He shrugged. “As long as you don’t mess with what and who we are. But I’d like to see what you’ve got before you get started and again before it goes out. See if I can add anything to it.”

What if he means change it?

“I think it’s important for us to work together,” she told him in a slow voice. “But I’d also like you to keep in mind you are virtual unknowns and we need to make a big PR splash before you hit the stage on your first concert date.” She dug up her professional smile. “I think we both want the same thing, don’t we? Success?”

“I hope you’re right.”

“So when can we meet again? We don’t have a lot of wiggle time here, and I’m anxious to get started.”

“I have a suggestion.” Marc set his guitar on a stand and walked over to Rick. “Emma and I are having a little get-together on Saturday night. Nothing fancy. Just the band and some close friends. How about you join us? That way you can get a feel for who we are and how our personalities and talent contribute to Lightnin’.” He looked around at the others. “That suit you guys?”

Rick’s eyes widened and he stared at Marc. Sydney wasn’t sure which of them was more stunned by the invitation. The other musicians looked a little shell-shocked, too. She guessed a pretty tightknit circle of people attended their get-togethers. She made herself laugh.

“Thanks, Marc, but I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not.” Rick’s comment surprised her. “Marc’s right. You need to know who we are beneath the music.”

“Well.” She paused. “If you all are sure.”

“We’re sure.”

Rick’s voice was so rich it coasted over her like hot chocolate. Its deep resonance scorched her nerve endings and made her tremble. She dug her fingernails into her palms to keep focused.

“Then, thank you. Very much.”

She walked back to her purse, pulled out her phone, and typed in the address Marc called out to her. She was proud her hands didn’t tremble, even though an emotional storm raged inside her. Their music had set it off, so gut-deep with emotion it transported. Rick’s come-fuck-me voice didn’t help, either, seducing her senses whether he intended to or not. And now she’d be in a social situation with all of them and—

Okay. She’d go. Chat with everyone. Get a feel for them on a personal level. Make some adjustments in her campaign and then get on with business. Nothing would stand in the way of her success. Nothing and no one. And she’d stay as far away from Rick Trajean—on a personal basis—as she could.

Because she couldn’t lose sight of The Plan.

She put on her professional smile. “Thank you very much.” She looked at each of the men in turn. “You have a very unique sound. And you’re right. I needed to hear it in person. I’ll do my best to make sure everyone out there connects with it. I’ll see you all Saturday. And again, thanks for the invite.”

All the way up the aisle to the lobby doors, she could feel Rick’s gaze on her. She never turned around, just kept walking. But when she reached the parking lot, she collapsed in her car and let out her breath in a long whoosh.

Holy crap!

The man’s mere presence did things to her that other men couldn’t coax from her no matter how hard they tried. She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. Immediately his lean face appeared like a temptation in her brain. What if he felt the same? She hadn’t imagined the chemistry between them the other day. How would she handle Saturday night?

I am definitely in a world of trouble.

***

As Rick put away his guitars, Marc walked over to him, blocking out the other band members.

“Am I wrong, or do I get the feeling you aren’t happy with our promotions agent?” he asked.

Rick snapped the locks on a guitar case, maybe with a little more force than he needed to. He didn’t know what to do with all the conflicting emotions battling inside him. His responsibility to the band had to take precedence over everything else. If only his dick would pay attention.

“Rick?” Marc prompted.

“What? Oh. Sydney.” He set the case aside with a deliberate motion and picked up a second one.

“I don’t know yet if I’m happy with her. I want to see what she comes up with first.”

Marc quirked an eyebrow. “Didn’t she show you her ideas the other day?”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t too flashed out about them. She’d never seen us live, for one thing. That’s why I had her come back here today. Listen to a planned set.”

“And?”

Rick shrugged. “Can’t tell. I’ll have to see what she comes up with after this.” He slanted a look at Marc. “You think it was smart inviting her over Saturday night?”

“Don’t you? She’ll get some up close and personal time with us.” He grinned. “You looked like you wanted some of that up close and personal for yourself when she was here.”

Rick scowled. “I’m focused on the band right now. Period. And my mother and sister. I don’t have time for anything else.”

“Jesus, don’t take my head off. Anyway, it might do you some good to chill out now and then. All this intense shit in your life can’t be healthy.”

Rick set the other guitar case next to the first one. “Oh, so now you’re concerned with my health?”

“Rick. Hey. I’m your friend. We’ve been tight since we were fourteen years old. Take a step back here, will you?”

Rick huffed out a breath. “Sorry. I just want everything to go off without a hitch for both the tour and the CD.”

“It will be fine,” Marc assured him. “Whatever artistic conflicts you and Miss Sydney Attitude have, you’ll work them out.”

“Miss Attitude.” Rick laughed. “Good name for her. So you felt the don’t-mess-with-me vibes coming off her, too?”

Marc looked at Rick then away then back again. “I think this tour is just as important to her but for different reasons. Give her a chance, okay? Butch is probably paying Full Moon big bucks.” He chuckled. “And if you happen to get a little more personal with her—”

“Not gonna happen,” Rick barked. “So forget it.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Listen. I trust you. We all do. We know the band comes first with you. Let’s just see how things go Saturday night in an informal setting. Maybe Emma can chat her up.”

“We’ll see. Although if anyone can talk to her about the band it’s Emma.”

“No shit.” Marc laughed again. “Remember when we met? She’d never listened to a rock band in her life. Been to a club. Nothing.”

“I hear you.” His own mouth curved in a smile. “Hell, she wouldn’t even tell you her damn name for the longest time.”

“So maybe someone who comes to Lightnin’ from that angle can give her a perspective we can’t. The audience reaction. What turned her on about the band.”

“Okay, okay. I just—”

“Relax, man. If there’s a problem, we’ll all jump in to help, okay?”

Rick nodded, but he sat on the stage for a long time after the others left. Sydney Alexander had no idea how he’d clawed his way up from a desperate situation to build Lightnin’ and take it where it was. When his dad dumped all of them for a new life—yes, he’d walked out on Rick and Meredith, as well as his marriage—they all felt as if the rug had been jerked out from beneath them.

Then he met Marc, whose family had provided much-needed stability for all of them. Mrs. Malone had become a good friend to Rick’s mother and included all of them in Malone family activities. When he and Marc put Lightnin’ together, the two of them had worked to create a solid foundation. One that wouldn’t have other musicians slipping in and out the way it happened with so many other groups. They wanted definite commitments from Danny and Garrett because their contribution would be critical to the magic mix they were creating.

From day one, they had all worked very hard, and now it was about to pay off. He wasn’t going to let Miss Attitude or anyone like her screw with what their creation. But everything came with its own set of problems. There was Butch to consider and all the obligations that went with that contract. Money was being spent on them. Big money. If they made a mess, no one would ever touch them again.

He sure couldn’t fuck it all up with sex. And whatever else seemed to link him to Sydney Alexander.

“Rick?”

He jerked at the sound of Marc’s voice.

“I thought you left,” Rick said.

“You looked as if you spaced out sitting there, so I came back.” Concern cut deep grooves in Marc’s face.