Page 71 of Four Dates and A Forever
“Uh huh,” Rhett mumbled, knowing he was going to have to possibly apologize for his nosy family. “Change of topic, please.”
“How about the surprise of you being here,” Gage said. He was in his usual slacks, button-down shirt, no tie, leather jacket—and a know-it-all smile.
“The meeting starts at eight, right?” Rhett asked. “It’s eight so we better get started.”
“It’s eight twenty,” Owen said, looking at the wall clock. “But who’s counting?”
“He wasn’t the only one who was late,” Abi, Owen’s fiancée, said. The look she gave Owen told the room they’d been late for the same reason as Rhett. “So be nice.”
Abi nudged Owen, who pulled her in for a kiss.
“Not in front of the children,” Josh said. He was dressed in his usual smart suit, but with one of those baby slings around his neck and a sleeping baby Lily tucked inside. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair on end, and he looked as if he hadn’t slept in weeks. Then he met his wife’s eyes and Rhett saw it—moon-eyes.
In fact, as he looked around the table, he noticed that every one of his brothers wore the same goofy look. And, not for the first time, Rhett felt like the odd man out. Even Owen, his last ride-or-die bro, was blissfully in love.
He wanted that, he realized. And he wanted it with Elsie. He just didn’t know how to go about it. Not that love hadn’t come with hardships for his siblings. But at least they all lived in the same zip code while figuring out their futures. Rhett’s future ended in a little over a week when he was expected in LA to start laying down tracks, and he didn’t know how to make it work in the long term. Not without one of them giving up on a dream.
Shit.
Not wanting Clay to do his see-behind-the-walls thing, Rhett flipped through the agenda, which was a zillion pages long, and sighed. It reminded him why he usually skipped these kinds of meetings. He was more of a hands-on guy, but he wanted to spend more time with his family, and right then that meant helping with the event.
“You still want to be here?” Gage asked.
Rhett smiled. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
They discussed everything from budget to sponsors to logistics, and by the time they arrived at the lineup Rhett was dozing off.
“We have the final order?” Gage said.
“About that,” Rhett said, suddenly awake, and Owen groaned.
“I told you one of us should handle it.”
“I have it right here.” He passed around the single piece of paper. It had a double column with fifteen names on it.
“Can’t you count to ten or do we need to go over addition again?” Owen asked.
“Hear me out. I was going through the demos and realized what the problem was.”
“That you can’t count to ten?” Again with Owen bringing the smartass.
“That there were more than ten people who deserved a shot,” Rhett countered.
“The night is set at ten because Saturday night barely has room for ten,” Josh so helpfully pointed out.
“Which is why I was thinking that maybe we make it a weekend thing,” Rhett suggested, and the table went silent. “We leave Saturday for the current lineup, which you’ll see is in the second column, and then we add Friday. They can be opening acts of sorts. They get to play one song each.”
“I think it’s a great idea. For next year,” Gage said.
“A year is a long time in a musician’s world.” A year can make the difference between playing for a living and waiting tables. A die hard would never give up their dream, but being able to gig for a living, even if you’re living on ramen and mac ’n’ cheese, is the dream.
“That’s a lot of work to put together between now and then,” Josh pointed out as Lily started to cry. Josh stood and paced the room, gently bouncing the baby.
“This change would require a lot of time,” Gage said. “There’s getting the permit, making sure the bar is properly staffed, getting word out so there’s actually a crowd expecting music and not sports.”
“I can help with the permit,” Piper said, taking Lily from Josh and holding her to her chest, giving a little bounce. Josh put a hand on her lower back. “I know my way around city hall and the permit process now. As long as you’re not asking for a liquor permit, then I’m your girl.”
“We’ve got a lot going on,” Josh cooed. “Don’t we, sweet pea.”
