Page 2 of The Fire Walker
“Marketing manager. Wants to keep us happy. You know thedeal.”
The deal would probably be taking us out for dinner, gigs, and clubs. I didn’t really care. “Who was the blondeone?”
Frank raised an eyebrow. “Intern.”
“Her name was intern?” I asked annoyed, knowing full well he had caught on to the fact I’d already made eyes ather.
“She said her name was Jessie,” he said slyly. “They’re from NewYork.”
“New York,huh?”
“She was alooker.”
“I saw herfirst.”
“Dammit,” he said with a laugh. “I so knew you were checking herout.”
“Of course, I was,mate.”
“I’m going to the shop. Do you want anything?” That was his code for ‘I need to get out of this shoebox,’ and he started toward thedoor.
“Nope.”
“Laterthen.”
The door closed behind him, and I sat there in silence, listening to the muted sounds of the track coming from the sound tech’s headphones. He was a nice guy, but he didn’t hang with us much. It had been a stupid amount of weeks, and I didn’t even remember hisname.
Thankfully, Zoe came in, saving me from myself, with two takeout cups of coffee in her hands. She held one out to me and said, “Never say I don’t give youanything.”
“Thanks, hot legs.” I really fucking needed caffeine and a distraction. Recording was a hard slog, and there were times when there was nothing to do but listen to yourself breathe. Those were the times when my mind sank into depression. I was the kind of guy who needed action to stayafloat.
Chris was in the booth playing the last bass part for ‘Red Heart,’ and the sound tech had headphones over his ears listening to what was being recorded. Frank wouldn’t come back for at least twenty minutes, so we were free to talk dirty if we wanted to. No one waslistening.
“What did those record types want before?” I asked, trying to work up to asking about the woman Frank had said wasJessie.
“Schmoozing,” she said with a shrug. “They want to take us out for dinner tomorrow night and do the whole club thing.” She didn’t sound impressed, but I knew Zoe wasn’t into going to clubs. She called them meat markets, and when she had a hot piece like Will Strickland, of course, she didn’t want to go. But if it meant this Jessie would be there, then I was all over thatshit.
“They’re doing thisnow?”
“We’re pretty much finished recording, so I guess they want to rewardus.”
“Like a dog doing a fucking trick,” I said sullenly. This was my dream, making it big, but I found myself disliking the facade that the business types threw up in our faces. As long as we were making them a dollar, then they slapped on the fake smiles and were all for showing us a good time. All I wanted to do was stand on a stage andplay.
“Dee, I know. But a record deal is a record deal. Just ’cos they want to sell out and make cash, doesn’t mean wedo.”
“I know. Sometimes, it just shits me totears.”
She smiled, patting me on the knee. “You’re too genuine. Good guys get eatenup.”
“Good guys finish last,” I scoffed, thinking about my perpetual single status. Girls liked the bad boys, and I didn’t have a bad bone in my body. I was the anti-alpha.
“Does this have something to do with earlier?” Zoe asked with an accuracy that annoyed the hell out ofme.
I shook my head, but she knew me like the back of herhand.
“You were staring at that Jessie chick like she was something toeat.”
“I wasn’t,” I protested, suddenlyflustered.
