“Man, you are delusional if you think Mike's gonna let you anywhere near his little girl,” Benji spoke up.
“I don't know who you just met, Benji, but that was no little girl,” Otis replied with a lewd grin. “Did you see that body? Oh, my God!”
“She's a little girl to Mike,” Benji answered, and Buz nodded his head in agreement.
“I think he made that abundantly clear, Otis,” Buz added, fixing him with an amused smirk. “It's not worth the headache, man.”
“Yeah, come on, O,” Cory chimed in. “Let's just all agree that one is off limits, alright?”
Otis looked over at Noah with an incredulous smirk. “Can you believe this? They dangle the candy in front of me and then tell me not to taste it! Shit!”
Noah kept silent as he felt the unmistakeable knot form in his stomach, and they all laughed at his brother's antics once more. And suddenly the knot gave way to anger. What the fuck was she doing here? Of all the people in the world … why did Mike's daughter have to be the one woman he wanted desperately to never see again? Or was it to never lose sight of again? Noah wasn't at all sure which statement was more true.
“Hey, what's with you, man?” Cory asked suddenly, and Noah frowned at him. “You were a little shitty to Mike just now. What's up?”
Noah shrugged defensively, glancing around at all the curious looks he was getting. “Nothing. We got a lot of work to and they were holding us up with all their father/daughter bullshit, that's all.” He stood up suddenly to make his point. “Techs are probably already waiting for us. We should get going.”
The guys stood up then and gathered their things. And as they traveled with their security to the rehearsal venue, Noah tried to pay attention to the easy banter going on in the limo, but he couldn't concentrate on what his bandmates were saying. His mind was still reeling. He had so many questions. What was she doing here? What were the odds that her father would wind up being their manager? And how had they gone four years without him knowing that? Without them ever crossing paths? And did she even remember that they had slept together? Noah rolled his eyes at himself for that thought. Of course she remembered. He had been part of this scene long enough to know that girls didn't sleep with rock stars – or almost rock stars – and then forget about it. But he worried about what she must think of him. He had been such an ass to her after the night they had spent together. He had never spoken to her again, even though he had desperately wanted to. But he had been such an idiot back then. A young, cocky, scared fucking idiot. A pussy. He wouldn't blame her if she hated his guts.
When they arrived at the rehearsal spot, they were greeted by several members of their road crew, and the techs already had their gear all set up and ready to go. In addition to Noah's guitar tech, Aaron, each band member had a technician of his own, and it was that tech's job to set up and maintain all the instruments and equipment for his assigned band member. Each tech was an expert in his field and knew his instrument inside and out. All of them were also musicians themselves, which allowed them to serve as a backup or an understudy of sorts during tours, making them essential.
The guys got right to work, practicing several of their new songs again and again. And a few hours later, when they felt they had them as tight as they could possibly be, they sent a couple of the roadies out on a food run. And as they all sat eating a quick lunch of deli sandwiches, they reworked the setlist, deciding which new songs to incorporate where, which songs to swap out, and which songs should serve as their encore. As they talked, Noah remained quiet for the most part, nodding his agreement to whatever the others decided. He was brooding and he knew it, but he couldn't seem to pull himself out of the funk he suddenly found himself floundering in.
“Man, what is your problem today?” Otis asked gruffly as he eyed his brother with an attitude. “Are we boring you?”
Noah looked up, startled and somewhat embarrassed. “No. I'm sorry. I've just got something on my mind, is all.”
“Something like what?” Otis demanded.
Noah frowned at him. “Like none of your business,” he shot back. Both his tone and his expression told his brother to back off, and the room suddenly grew silent. Noah glanced around at the others, sighing at the concerned faces of his bandmates and roadies. He shook his head slowly.
“I'm fine. Just preoccupied with something,” he mumbled in apology.
Otis stared at him in silence for a beat longer before he rolled his eyes at him, and motioned to the setlist saying, “You have something you want to contribute here?”
Noah looked down at the sheet of paper his brother was using to jot notes on. And knowing that Otis wouldn't be satisfied until he had Noah's input, he decided to give it to him. “Yeah. I don't think we should save 'Ms. Enigma' for the encore. The fans love it too much; they'll be expecting it sooner. We should leave it in the middle of the show like it was. Leave 'Rockin' You' for the encore and pair it with 'Pin-up Baby.' Since it seems to be a new fan favorite that'll be two upbeat songs to end on. And the crowd will be hoping for it, but not expecting it.”
They were all quiet for a moment as they thought about his words. Then Buzzy spoke up with a smile, saying, “You know … from a purely percussion stand point, I like that. The transition from 'Rockin' You' to 'Pin-up Baby' would be fucking stellar!”
“With that drum solo ending on 'Rockin' You' and the bass and drum intro on 'Pin-up' Baby,” Benji chimed in excitedly. “Very cool idea, Noah!”
Noah smiled slightly at his friend, and then shrugged. “I wasn't even thinking about the transition. Guess that's an added bonus.”
They all agreed, and once the setlist was hammered out, they did a quick run trough of the new material once more, paying close attention to their encore numbers. And when at last they were packing up for the day, Noah sat in a corner of the room on a folding chair, mulling over the morning's events and half-listening to the laughter and joking going on around him.
“Hey, man,” Cory said, patting his back as he grabbed another folding chair and turned it around, straddling it as he faced Noah. “What's going on with you? Everything alright?”
Noah stared at him blankly for a long moment, saying nothing. What could he say? Perhaps he shouldn't say anything at all. His jaw clenched tightly as he struggled with whether to confide in his friend or not. Cory was the one person he knew he could always count on. Had been since high school. They were closer than brothers. Cory knew about all the petty shit that went on between him and Otis, and all the turmoil he had been through with his dad. He knew that anything he said to Cory would remain between the two of them if that's the way he wanted it.
He took a deep breath and glanced around, making sure no one else was within ear shot. “I feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone, Cory,” he muttered quietly.
“Why?”
“You remember what we talked about on the plane?” he began cautiously. “About the girl. The one who inspired all those songs I wrote?”
“Yeah,” Cory smiled. “Your very own 'Ms. Enigma.' Sure. I still can't believe that you don't even know who she was.”
Noah nodded slowly. “Yeah, well … I do now.” He watched as Cory's eyebrows shot straight up in surprise. And then his eyes grew round like saucers as he began to understand.
“No!” His voice was a shocked whisper. “Are you shitting me? Mike's daughter?”
Noah nodded his head once more, saying nothing as Cory stared at him with a stunned expression.
“Are you sure, man? I mean, that was a long time ago. Maybe your mind's just playing tricks on you because we were talking about it.”
“It was four years ago, Cory,” Noah said quietly. “People don't change that much in four years. I used to salivate over this girl every weekend night back then. And the one night we spent together was so hot, it is burned in my fucking memory forever. Do you really think I'm going to mistake her for someone else? A girl I have written countless songs about over the last four years?”
&nb
sp; “Countless?” Cory asked playfully, trying to lighten his friend's mood.
Noah snorted softly with a roll of his eyes. “Yeah. The four that ended up on actual albums are not the only ones. Pathetic, I know.” Cory looked at him with a sad smile, and Noah just shook his head. “I don't know what to do, man. Do I say something? Do I apologize for the way I treated her? Or should I just … pretend that I don't remember, and act like I'm just meeting her for the first time? I mean, I'm sure she probably hates my guts for what happened, and I can't say I'd blame her.”
“What did happen, Noah?”
“I told you.”
“Yeah, you told us that you fucked her and that the sex was amazing,” he shrugged. “But you also said that something about her spooked you, and you ran back to your old girlfriend because of it. So what exactly happened?”
Noah shook his head in bewilderment, trying to find the words to explain himself. “I don't know, man. I just …” His voice trailed off as he thought about it. Then he fixed his friend with an intense gaze. “Do you remember how freaked out you were when you first met Donna?”
Donna Devlin was America's sweetheart. An actress with a hit TV show and a brand new movie deal. She was also Cory's live-in girlfriend for the past two years. They were nearly inseparable. Except of course, when their tour and shooting schedules kept them apart. At the mention of her name, Cory's eyes brightened a bit. Then he gave his friend a really amused frown.
“I was freaked out because I knew instantly that I never wanted to leave her side again,” Cory exclaimed quietly. “So, what exactly are you saying, Noah? Are you telling me you ran from this girl four years ago because you knew she was the one?”
Noah looked at him silently once more. Then he said softly, “I spend my spare time thinking about that night, and writing songs about a woman I never thought I'd see again. I don't know what any of that means. All I know is that four years ago I felt a connection with her that scared the shit out of me. And yeah, I ran from it because I was a fucking coward. And now … she's here and I don't know what to do about it.”
Cory just stared him, trying to gage his friend's sincerity. “Well, that explains your attitude with Otis,” he said quietly.
Noah frowned. “I don't have an attitude with Otis.”
“Yeah. You do,” Cory confirmed. “It started back at the hotel when O was talking about how fine she is. But you know he didn't mean anything by that, right? I mean, you know that's just O. He'll flirt until the cows come home but … he would never really make a play for Mike's daughter.”
“Yes he would,” Noah said disgustedly. “But that's another thing. Mike's acting like her guardian pit bull with us. He'd probably threaten to cut my dick off if he knew how I had treated her.”
“Noah. Come on, man … it's not like you raped her or brutalized her. Yeah, she was young back then but, I'm assuming she was legal at the time. She just graduated college so, she had to be at least 18 back then. You were both consenting adults and you had sex.”
Noah nodded his head, feeling like shit. “And then I never spoke to her again. I was a fucking prick to her, man!”
“You were young and stupid,” Cory offered, trying to keep his voice down as he glanced around to make sure they were still out of range of the others. “We've all been there, man! Stop beating yourself up over it.”
Noah nodded once more. He knew Cory was right and that he shouldn't be so hard on himself. But he just couldn't help it. He wasn't the typical wham-bam, love 'em and leave 'em kind of guy. Sure, he projected that playboy rocker image for the cameras because it was good publicity for the band. And when he wasn't in a relationship, being on tour afforded him the opportunity to take advantage of all the free pussy he wanted. But it was a game. A diversion he took part in on the road to break up the monotony. In his real life, he preferred monogamy, and he would never treat a woman with such callousness. Except that he had. Four years ago when he fucked Mercy Holland and then ran in the other direction.
*****
Dinner that night in the hotel's swanky dining room was both awkward and confusing for Noah. At first, he wasn't going to go, thinking it would probably just be best for all concerned if he avoided Mercy all together. But Cory had persuaded him, telling him that the best thing for him to do was just to act as normally as he could, or else he would have Otis hounding him about what was going on. So Noah put on his game face, hid his eyes behind his trusty mirrored shades, and joined the others for dinner.
They were seated in a corner of the opulently decorated dining room at a large round table while their bodyguards were seated at a table right next to them. They would sip cups of coffee and try to blend in while keeping watchful eyes on their surroundings. It was preferable to having them stand around glaring at the other patrons trying to enjoy their dinner.
When they had first arrived, Noah watched in dismay as Otis somehow maneuvered his way into the seat next to Mercy. He sat across from them now watching his brother pour on the charm as she smiled sweetly at him and giggled at whatever he was saying. They appeared to be lost in their own little world as Otis draped his arm over the back of her chair, leaning in close to her and talking softly so only she could hear what he was saying. And Noah felt his stomach knot up even more. He practically ignored the perfectly cooked steak on his plate and instead concentrated on his wine glass.
He was aware of the concerned glances Cory kept throwing his way, but he ignored him. In fact he ignored them all, contributing nothing to any of the conversations going around the table as he focused on refilling his glass. At one point, when the waiter came around to check on them, he ordered a mixed drink, needing something a whole lot stronger than the red wine. When the waiter set his drink in front of him, Noah slipped him a few bills, saying quietly, “Keep them coming, please.”
“So, I talked to a couple of video directors this afternoon who have no scheduling conflicts and would be able to meet us somewhere along this leg of the tour to shoot the promo for 'Pin-up Baby.' Greg Martin and Ted Nance. I know you've worked with Nance before on a couple videos so, he'd be my first choice but, I'll leave that decision up to you guys. Otis,” Mike said a little abruptly, clearly trying to tear the singer's attention away from his daughter. “You're the ring leader here. You have a preference?”
Otis looked up, completely oblivious to the conversation. And he smiled slightly at Mike's obvious irritation. “Um … I have no preference,” he answered with a shrug, having no clue what he was responding to.
“You sure about that? Looks like you'd prefer to be alone with my daughter,” Mike replied, nailing Otis with a pointed glare. Otis smiled at him and raised his hands as if in surrender, turning in his seat to focus on his meal as Mercy shot her father an embarrassed look and rolled her eyes at him.
“Noah, how about you? You got a preference?” Mike asked, just as the waiter set another drink in front of him.
“Thank you,” Noah said, addressing the waiter. “Can you make it a double next time?” Ignoring Mike's question, he brought the glass to his lips and took a savored swallow, hoping the alcohol would soon numb his senses.
“Noah?” Mike repeated patiently.
Noah rolled his eyes behind his shades and then shrugged his shoulders. “Nance is cool. I like his concert shots. We work well with him.”
Mike nodded. He liked dealing with Noah usually. It was rare in a group like this one for the talent to also be the one with the smarts. But over the last four years, Mike had come to realize that Noah Ivory possessed both of those traits. Why he allowed Otis to take the role of leadership, Mike would never understand. To him, between the two of them, Noah was the Ivory brother who was always quick to listen to reason while Otis was usually more concerned with chasing tail than anything else. At least, that's the way Mike saw it. But that's not to say he didn't think Noah was without his flaws. He had plenty. Alcohol being the main one, and even though Mike had only seen Noah falling down, sloppy drunk a couple of ti
mes … it was enough to convince him that Noah had a problem. Or at least, the beginnings of one. Although, when compared to Benji's substance issues, it was minor.
“Alright. Unless anyone objects, I'll contact Nance, let him know he's our guy,” Mike said with a quick glance around the table.
“Do you wear those things all the time?” Mercy suddenly asked with a disapproving tone, and Noah looked up to find her staring right at him. He felt his stomach flip flop for a moment.
“Um … usually,” he shrugged.
“Well you shouldn't; it's rude. We're inside, eating dinner. Why would you possibly need sunglasses?” she asked.
He shrugged again, saying nothing.
“I think it's a mask you're hiding behind,” she said smugly. And the look in her eyes produced a heavy weight in his gut as his heart took a free fall into his stomach. Why was she suddenly trying to engage him?
“I guess you could call it a security blanket of sorts,” he conceded quietly.
“Security blanket?” she repeated, her voice sounding surprised. “Do you need psychological comfort to deal with the world, Mr. Ivory? Or is it just to deal with me?”
Noah was taken aback by her question, and her bluntness. Was she trying to bait him? Did she mean to tell the entire table about their shared past? Was this her way of calling him out on his bad behavior? Noah didn't have the answer to any of those questions, but her attitude sparked something within him. Anger? “Is there some reason I should need help to deal with you, Miss Holland?”
Mercy cocked an eyebrow at him. He really didn't remember her, did he? She felt the sharp jab to her ego at his words, and her face flushed slightly. “Well, I assume you're not hiding from your bandmates or my dad so … I figured you must be hiding from me,” she said softly, her voice sounding slightly contrite.
He studied her closely as he mulled over her words, but he didn't get the chance to respond because they suddenly heard a small commotion at the next table. A young girl being turned away by their group of protectors. She couldn't have been more than 13 or 14 years old, and Noah could see that she was clutching a small journal and a pen in her hands.
The Essential Jagged Ivory (Jagged Ivory Boxed Set) Page 6