by Andrea Wolfe
Before he even finished telling me about the tour, he had already informed me that I was coming along and that it would be a blast. Yeah, I was starting to get used to this whole rock 'n' roll thing, acclimating to his excessively creative world that had a place even for little old me. Jack was going to do this tour, and although he would forever remain Lexy's producer, he wasn't sure if he wanted to keep doing that.
We'll see how you like life on the road, he had said. It sounded like a challenge worth accepting.
There was one restriction, however: Jack forbade me from coming to the rehearsals. I had never seen him truly perform, so I would just have to wait until the gig. He gave me a front row seat in exchange for my patience; I accepted the offer.
I had met most of the band members around the label, and they were all a lot of fun, affable personalities handpicked by Jack. They were all guys—I told Jack he was a sexist after I found out their gender—and all around Jack's age, people he had known over the years.
One way or another, I was excited for this big night, excited for Lexy, excited for us. This weekend we'd basically seal the deal, taking yet another step toward forward in our relationship. I liked it. Things were coming together in my life and I loved the progress, loved how it felt.
It was as if I had spent years trying to buy shoes, and I'd finally found the pair that felt good both in the store and in actual use. How many times have you bought shoes only to have them chew up the flesh on your ankles the first time you do any serious walking in them?
Yeah, Jack was the perfect pair of shoes for me.
***
My diurnal duties completed, I chilled out in the office, just relaxing and reading a book until Jack got back. I had started reading again, something Jack had encouraged, insisting that he owed much of his creativity to the books he consumed. I had also started writing as well, something that would obviously be enhanced by my reading.
I used to love reading, but I had stopped once I got into college, replacing my word diet with textbooks instead of fiction. It was fun to escape into another world temporarily, even though I had started to like this one so much.
Not ten minutes after I became idle, Jack showed up with two huge chicken parmesan subs from this local deli that he liked so much.
"God, you're trying to make me explode," I whined. "Those are huge."
"If you don't eat the whole thing, you don't explode." He winked at me and quickly swept his eyes across the room. "After we finish these, we're heading home to get dressed and leaving immediately after. There's a backstage area where you can have some drinks."
"Do you have tickets for my seat?" I asked innocently.
"I was actually kidding about that. You can watch from side if you want. Most VIP guests watch from really close or really far away. Can't get closer than the stage."
"What if I want to sit in front? I wanna be a real audience member. Isn't that why you denied me access to the rehearsals?"
He cocked one eyebrow and smiled. "Touché. Sit there if you please. But the free drinks are backstage. You'll have a wristband to pass security, no matter where you're sitting."
"God, I'm gonna be like a real groupie," I said proudly. "My life's dream, finally fulfilled tonight when I sleep with a rock star."
"Right," Jack said huskily. He leaned forward and kissed my neck, slowly crawling down my flesh until his tongue was in the swell of my cleavage. "You always taste so sweet."
"I bathe in sugar," I said wryly.
"That's so stupid," he said, giggling even though he acted as if he didn't want to.
"I don't want to hear about it. Those subs smell so good and it's clouding my judgment."
"Understandable," he said, sitting down and sliding the pile of napkins near us.
We ate quietly together, the rest of the label employees gone for the day. It happened this way most days, Jack and I being the last people here and having to close up shop. He seemed to enjoy maintaining the space. It was nice—certainly much better than the typical indie label—but a lot smaller than MCI, obviously.
It was so cute watching Jack sweep the floors and straighten things out on his desk prior to leaving every night. He took such pride in the label, the only business in the world that was truly his, free from any outside intrusion or input.
Tonight, however, he skipped the chores so we could keep our schedule.
The limo was already outside waiting for us, and the trip back to his place was short.
Jack requested that I wear the ruby red chiffon swing dress I had purchased the previous week, so I obliged. As soon I walked out clad in the dress, his eyes crawled up and down me in the sleaziest fashion possible.
"What the fuck, Jack?" I complained, my words as hollow as could be. I actually loved when he looked at me like that.
"I think we should just skip the concert and I'll fuck you in every room of the house. On every piece of furniture too."
I shook my head. "You always talk like that, and then after the second or third time, you're tired out. What about my needs?" I couldn't stop grinning, my sarcasm like a storm.
"I get it," he said. "How many times do I have to make you come before you're happy?"
"I'm an eight to ten kind of girl." I gave him a firm wink.
"I guess I really need to practice, huh?"
I walked toward him and wrapped my arms around his waist. "You're so terrible, Jack." I kissed his cheek and squeezed his butt playfully. He returned the favor, and was hard seconds after I pressed against him. We both wanted it bad, but we just didn't have the time.
Jack pulled away abruptly, as if he had realized he'd be totally stuck to me if he didn't act soon. "I've got to get dressed."
A few minutes later, he emerged from his room wearing a tight black t-shirt and a pair of very tight, low-slung jeans. "Is this okay?" he said.
My jaw dropped. He looked like a fucking movie star, like the hottest man who had ever walked the earth. The simplicity of the outfit lent itself to him incredibly well. I instantly imagined a guitar stretched across his body, the women in the audience screaming, begging for a scrap of his attention as he strummed and howled into a microphone. Jack was a paragon of talent and beauty.
I almost passed out.
"You've never looked better." I took a deep breath and retained my composure.
"Hey," he said, "why are you blushing?"
My cheeks had become hot and red, the reason why not entirely clear to me. Maybe it was that I was finally witnessing this other part of his personality, as if I was meeting this Jack for the very first time. As usual, I was smitten nearly to death.
"I don't really know. Are you, uh, n-nervous?" I asked, attempting to change the subject away from my own weakness.
"Never. I used to get nervous, but then I realized my goals don't get accomplished if I don't go on stage. I actually do make mistakes sometimes—and I hide them well." He smiled as he toyed with his hair in the hall mirror. "But this might be my last tour, anyhow. Gotta give it my best."
The thought made me feel melancholy for some reason. I hadn't even seen him perform, and here he was, talking about retirement. It wasn't up to me, though. It never was, and it probably never would be. "You will." I said it ostensibly, but despite my lack of experience and understanding of what he really did, I knew it would turn out to be true.
We both wore boots, joking that we should trade for the evening—and knowing that it would be a genuine disaster if we did. There was no way he could have fit those big feet of his into my tiny boots. His just served to make him even sexier, providing just a hint of cowboy to his already-perfect appearance.
After everything was done, we headed into the limo and got comfortable. Jack's equipment was already at the venue, so he didn't need to bring anything along.
Something already told me that tonight would change my life—but at that point, I wasn't quite sure how.
Chapter 22
There was already a line in front of the venue when we
arrived, three hours prior to doors opening. Jack had to do a sound check and an abbreviated final run through. Lexy's name was on the marquee above the venue and Jack grinned when he noticed it.
We pulled up behind the venue, entering from a side door that was off-limits to concert-goers. There was a long alley behind the building, one that was fairly desolate and industrial given the part of town we were in.
Jack left me in the lounge as he readied himself for the night, privy to all sorts of tasty snacks and DIY cocktails. I poured myself a rum and Coke and got comfortable.
The primary A&R person at the label, Karla, showed up shortly after I did. She was a couple years older than me, pretty and fiercely enthusiastic, her auburn hair usually styled differently every day. Tonight, it was straightened and flowing along her bare shoulders. I was glad to see someone else in a dress.
We joked around about work stuff, the muffled roar of the sound check in the background as we talked. "This is gonna be awesome," Karla said, as excited as she always was. I didn't know how she did it. Caffeine abuse, maybe?
"I'm really excited too." It was no lie. I had been to shitty shows before, and this was no shitty show.
"A bunch of stuck-up press people are gonna be here too. I can't stand those assholes."
I nodded, not really sure what to say.
"You just wait. Someone will drag Jack through the mud just to be cool, to be controversial and edgy. He'll be furious when he reads the scathing review, and then ten seconds later, he'll be over it."
I nodded. "Oh, yeah. He told me about those people."
"They'll all stand back here sipping cocktails, acting like they really give a damn. But it's just because pretending to give a damn is their job. Anyway, I should shut up. Let's just have a good time. More drinks?"
I was okay with that.
We continued to drink until Jack came back and joined us with Lexy and the rest of the band. She sat down beside Karla and me, pouring herself a bourbon on the rocks.
Everyone was goofing around and having a good time backstage. I didn't get every inside joke, but I was okay with that. And thankfully, no one was doing any drugs.
Jack sat next to me, but only for a short while. When he got up to make me a fancy cocktail, everyone else noticed and collectively asked him for their own fancy drinks. Jack just groaned and laughed, turning back to the bottles of liquor and getting to work.
Everyone served, he sat back down and relaxed. "I might be too tired to perform now."
"I hope that's not the case when we get home tonight," I whispered in his ear. He gave me a wicked smile and said nothing further.
The party continued until finally, it was show time. Jack stood up and hugged me. "Here we go," he said happily.
"Figuratively break a leg," I said, my words a little slurred from the alcohol. I was drunker than I had intended, but then again, Jack was the one feeding me the drinks.
Karla and I walked back out to the venue ahead of the band—I had somehow managed to convince her to join me in the seats—I was amazed when we didn't see a single open seat in the house outside of the front row that was roped off for us. A total transformation from the empty interior we had seen earlier.
Everyone was laughing and talking, all excited to see the main event: Lexy Brown featuring The Jack Teller Band.
I didn't pay to get in like they did, but that didn't mean I was any less thrilled about the show. I couldn't believe how many photographers were there, scrambling around at the front of the stage to try to get the best possible photo for whatever their hip publication was.
The stage lights dropped, and then Lexy walked out alone, acoustic guitar in hand, gushing sex appeal. I joined the roar of the crowd, ecstatic about being there for this moment. She did the first song solo, and then as she strummed the final chord, a guitar lead broke out, one that made the audience even wilder.
It was the single—and they were crazy about it.
Bright lights exploded across the stage as Jack and band joined her. I almost choked on my drink as Jack sprang to life, not unlike a super hero on that stage. I rarely saw him practice guitar, and here he was, strumming away like a pro. His adroit fingers could do it anything, it seemed.
The bass drum rocked the whole theater as everyone joined in. I had never seen a more enthusiastic backing band in my life. Jack switched back and forth between guitar and keyboard duties depending on the song. It didn't matter what he played; he was great. He sang backing vocals too, his voice familiar from my brief foray into his hidden catalog.
They played through a long, full set, the only band on the schedule for tonight. Lexy had such a huge variety of songs so early in her career. Yeah, it felt like I was watching a seasoned veteran of the industry, not some beginner that Jack was just launching at this very show.
He definitely knew talent when he saw it. Paired with his own abilities, I knew Lexy was going to be unstoppable.
The band ripped through emotional highs and lows, tender moments, and moments of unremitting rock 'n' roll. Karla and I had a great time watching, dancing occasionally, spouting off compliments that only we heard.
"Jack is so fucking awesome," she shouted at me more than once.
"I know!" It was my very likely inaudible answer each and every time.
I was so captivated that I lost track of time, lost track of the world. I was totally absorbed by this experience. Going on tour sounded like a blast, especially if every night was anything like this. It wasn't clear whether it would still be as fun after a month straight, but I didn't need to worry about that right now.
"I want to thank everyone for coming out. And I especially want to thank Jack Teller. This is our last song."
The crowd roared and I joined in again. Jack gave me an award-winning smile and then started their last song. When it was over, the crowd wouldn't shut up and there wound up being two encores. Honestly, I became as much of a screaming fan as everyone else in that audience. Like them, I wanted more too!
Finally, they finished and departed the stage. The crowd slowly started clearing out behind us, and due to our position in the VIP area, the security left us alone. My heart pounded as I realized the genesis I had witnessed. This was a huge day for Lexy and a huge weekend for Jack and me. The energy in the room was almost a tangible thing, something I could hold in my fingers.
Lexy eventually came out from the back and was flooded by desperate stragglers looking for an autograph. Security tried to herd them out, but they were relentless. Lexy seemed appreciative, however, and signed whatever was thrust in front of her.
Jack met us on the side of the stage, motioning for us to follow back to the lounge area again.
"How was I?" he asked as I approached him.
I ran up and hugged him, unable to contain my excitement at all. "Fucking hot."
"You're the superficial one! God." He stroked my hair gently.
"You were awesome and talented and brilliant and all that other stuff." I kissed his cheek, the saltiness of his sweat immediately apparent.
Karla stood behind us, acting like she was peeved about our public display of affection. "Is there a problem, Karla?" Jack asked jokingly. I slid to his side, remaining attached to his waist the whole time I moved.
"I'm just fine, Jack. And damn good job out there. Haven't seen a better show in ages."
"NYC's finest," he said with a nod. "And now the album is gonna blow up and make us all rich."
"I hope," Karla mumbled. "I'm gonna go get more drinks and act like I care what the bloggers have to say."
Jack laughed and smiled as she walked away. "Do you want to party more?" he asked.
I was exhausted, but I didn't want to say anything that might ruin his big night. This was Lexy's premiere show, and I wanted it to be whatever he wanted it to be. "I might have one more drink."
"We won't stay too long," he said, as if he had read the quiet tumult of my mind. "A lot of work to do tomorrow. And we still have that unfinished business to
night." He hungrily stared at my cleavage and I accepted his glare.
"Never subtle, Jack Teller."
"That's just the way I like it." He pulled the sweaty mat of hair out of his eyes and led us back to the lounge.
It was packed with more people than before the show, and with the inclusion of the very sweaty band members became excessively hot. I had one more drink and clung to Jack's arm, meeting random person after person whom Jack gave me the inside scoop about after they walked away. He didn't seem to trust them much, and I guess with his history, I could understand why.
"Do you want to get going soon?" he asked me during a lull in the action.
"Yeah, if we can." I was feeling genuinely burned out and over stimulated by that point. It was fast approaching one in the morning and no one else looked like they were about to slow down.
"Let me say a couple of quick goodbyes, and then we'll get out of here."
I smiled and kissed his cheek. "Okay. I'm going to go get some air in the alley."
"Just a couple of minutes," he said. "I'll call the limo in a second.
Somehow I escaped that room and crept out into the hallway, retracing the steps I had taken when I arrived. Karla had been the only person I waved to, but she had been tied up in several conversations and missed my polite closing gesture.
The alley was calm and deserted, the night breeze cooling me immediately. Sweat quickly chilled on my brow and reminded me that I should have brought a jacket. Friday night was in full bloom, and in NYC, the party would go all night. We were definitely bailing out early, but with our plans tomorrow, it was a necessary evil.
"Help me!"
What the fuck? I heard some screaming, a sound that was unmistakably human, but bordered on sounding like an animal. I couldn't figure out if it was male or female. My curiosity got the best of me and I tiptoed forward, tracking the source of the sound. Did someone really need help?
I was cautious, concerned that I might be about to witness something horrible and needed to remain out of view. I wrestled my cell phone out of my purse, dialing 911 and resting my finger just above the call button in case I needed it.