Page 61 of The Librarian and the Rock Star

I thought about running into his fans everywhere we went. “How about we have dinner inside hidden at the back, then go for a cocktail somewhere on a busy patio so that you can be seen?”

He nodded, and we settled in. Once we had menus, water, and an opened bottle of Pinot Grigio, I couldn’t help but ask, “Why do you think Paul is trying to sabotage your band?

Jack shook his head, suddenly sad. “Can we get some food into us before we broach that topic? “

I patted his hand on the table. “Of course.”

After a brief skim of the menu, we decided to split an order of spicy noodles with chicken, and a red beef curry. My first glass of wine was already having its mellowing effect when Jack suddenly took my hand. “In two weeks we’re going to L.A. for three days for a video shoot. Will you come with us?”

I had to take a deep breath before answering. I was thrilled to be asked, but that mental red flag was flapping in the breeze. “I can’t. I’m one of those nine to five job people.”

“Yeah, but you run the place, right? Can’t you say that it’s a sabbatical? Or some sort of library conference?”

I laughed. “I do go to those, but they’re not normally in L.A.”

His dark eyes showed a bit of stress. “I don’t like not knowing when we’ll be together.”

The food arrived and distracted him while we sorted portions and began to eat. He poured me another glass of wine, and I noticed that he had barely touched his. “Don’t you like it?” I asked.

He took a big sip and grinned. “Yeah, it’s great. Sorry – I just have this weird habit of trying to stay at least a half a drink behind everyone I’m with.”

I laughed so loudly that the hostess actually jumped. Jack looked confused. When I caught my breath, I explained. “I’ve heard of people with addictive personalities putting in safeguards and rules to prevent themselves from going overboard. But that’s just one of the funniest tricks I’ve ever heard.”

He shrugged. “When you’re surrounded by people drinking after a show, and everyone trying to be polite and offering you another one, then another one, you need to keep count and pay attention. Otherwise, you’re a dozen drinks in and suddenly trying to make small talk with the fiance of the president of the record label.”

I nodded, between mouthfuls of noodles. “Certainly not a time when you want to be slurring.”

“Exactly. Or making inappropriate jokes. But I also need to keep an eye on the rest of the band, and if anyone gets trashed, keep them away from the suits. I often drink soda water with ice and a lime, so people assume it’s a cocktail.”

“Why are you the babysitter?”

He took a big bite of curry and rice while he thought about it a moment. “I guess I just take the business side a little more seriously than the other guys. Tate is really good with numbers, so he goes over our accounting with our accountant. We figure as a drummer, he can at least count to four.”

“That’s wise,” I giggled. “I’ve read about bands getting fleeced from an evil accountant.”

“Exactly. But when it comes to networking, marketing, or knowing who to schmooze with, the other three just don’t give a shit.”

“So it’s up to you to give all of the shit?” I giggled again, then wondered why I was so remarkably girlie around him.

“Miss Head Librarian,” he said in mock horror, “Your language!”

We finished our lovely meal, with Jack checking his phone a few times for messages from Kelly. He glanced again as we finish the last of the wine, then sighed deeply.

“Kelly is really pissed off,” he said. “She had sent updates about our show here to the label months ago, and they didn’t post anything. She checked two weeks ago, then raised hell when they still hadn’t done any promotion. No posters, no radio ads, nothing online.”

“Is there no one else that you can talk to at the label?” I asked.

Jack shook his head grouchily. “No, it’s protocol to only have one point of contact. Otherwise, the office would be slammed with every musician on their roster screaming for attention.”

“That makes sense. But it still sucks.”

Jack stared off into space for a moment. “I don’t know whether I should tell the other guys.”

“Will they be upset?”

He shrugged. “Probably not. They probably wouldn’t do a damn thing.” He looked at me and grinned. “You know those stereotypes about musicians being lazy? Ninety-eight percent true.”

“But you’ve also always been in charge. They don’t have to think about this stuff. It’s easier.”

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