Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
So I stepped aside to make room for our fabulous manager and grinned. Charlie’s golden curls were mussed, and his collar was slightly askew. Not a big deal on most people, but Char was a perfectionist.
“Char, you look like you got in a fight. Your shirt’s messed up and your hair is little…wonky,” I teased, tugging one of his curls.
He swatted my hand away and shot a faux irritated glance over his shoulder. “Yeah, well, you should see the other guy.”
“I bet.” Dec and I shared an amused look before he bent his head and plucked at his instrument.
Charlie didn’t miss much, though. He narrowed his gaze and put his hands on his hips. “You two are awfully chummy.”
Our smiles slipped when our eyes met again. Uh-oh.
“I thought you wanted us to, um…be chummy-ish,” I replied lamely.
“I do. And rave reviews and album sales promote chumminess. No complaints here. However, we may have a potential situation.” Charlie paused theatrically. Just long enough to make me nervous. “I think something happened between Johnny and Bobby J over the break. The tension is a bit…disturbing. They’ve been pretty good friends from the start, but they don’t appear to be speaking now. It may have been a threesome gone bad, but don’t quote me. This is a terrible time for anyone to get their panties in a twist. The first half of this tour has been a wild success. I don’t want to interfere, but since you’re the leader, Dec…keep an eye out, please.”
“Uh, yeah. Sure,” Dec nodded.
“And as for Operation Boyfriend, Petra told me that she talked to you both in Austin, so she probably told you she’s doing a piece about Scratch Records and your bands for Music Box after the LA show.”
“Oh yeah, she mentioned that…I think.” I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. “She’s not going to talk about Dec and me, is she?”
“I don’t know. In a perfect world, she’ll talk about the music and keep the personal info to a minimum. A sentence or two about growing up together ending with a titillating ‘Are they more than friends now?’ would be perfect. But I can’t write the article for her, so we’ll see what happens.”
“Sounds good.” And I supposed it did. We hadn’t given anything away.
Charlie smiled his thanks, barked out a few instructions, and whirled away again. I waited till he was long gone to kick the bottom of Dec’s boot.
“You’re the leader?” I asked incredulously.
He grinned. A wide radiant burst of sunshine that lit me up from within. “You can call me master.”
“Right.” I chuckled and looked away till I was sure I could meet his eyes without blushing. “Saved by a threesome gone wrong.”
“Huh. Not sure what to think about that, but Char’s right. We gotta keep the peace.”
I inclined my head in agreement. “Yeah. Break a leg, McNamara.”
“Hey, Monroe?”
“Yeah?”
“We got this. It’s gonna be all right.”
I smiled. I thought so too.
I was wrong.
14
Tegan
The crazy thing was that for another two whole weeks, life was better than ever. Our tour had gone from being a side note to a must-see ticket. Record sales for Zero and Jealousy were strong, and both bands had songs climbing the music charts. We didn’t pay much attention to the noise. We let Charlie deal with it. However, we couldn’t help noticing that every venue on the second leg, from Las Vegas to San Francisco, was practically bursting at the seams. And our final night in LA was supposed to be insane.
At least that was what Charlie said.
He called an impromptu meeting backstage at the Troubadour an hour before the show, pacing excitedly as he alternately rambled off the names of important and influential music biz folks in the audience that night and checked his watch.
“Not that you should be concerned with the behind-the-scenes goings-on, but I assure you, it’s epic. People are talking about you. Really talking about the music. As thrilled as I was to end at the Troubadour, I wish I’d have tried to book the Palladium.”
“Seriously?” Gill asked, widening his eyes. “The Palladium is five times the size of this place.”
“I know. And you would have had a sold-out performance. That’s okay. We’ll set up a summer tour and go bigger. The Greek, Hollywood Bowl…” Charlie paused midstride and turned to me. “Where the hell is Justin?”
“I don’t know. I’m sure he’s on his way. He’s probably out there schmoozing with fans. Text Gray,” I suggested, crossing my arms so my right elbow brushed Dec’s.
No doubt the contact looked uber casual to our bandmates. And it was…sort of. We’d done an amazing job being “friends” with our crowd while Charlie orchestrated innuendo based on casual photos of us with corny captions that encouraged discussion of the “Are they or aren’t they together” nature. Sneaking around sucked, but we made it work. We just had to get through one more show; then we could figure out…us.