Back-Up

by A. m Madden

  Jack a lawyer?

  Jack at NYU?

  A model or an actor or most definitely a rock star? Yes! But an NYU lawyer? Mr. Pretty is also smart?

  This man is killing me.

  “I was actually studying pre-law at NYU when I dropped out. They were most definitely not happy with me. But they are more supportive now than they were a few years ago. Thanks to my sister, they now realize this is what I am meant to be.”

  “How old is she?”

  Doris appears with more coffee, filling our cups without asking for permission. She looks down at my plate and asks. ”Didn’t you like it hon?”

  “Oh, it was the best grilled cheese I ever had. I’m just full.”

  Doris goes to lift my plate. “Leave it Doris. I’m still working on it. But I’ll take my pie now. Leila would you like some pie?”

  “No, I’m good. Thanks.” Doris winks again, and makes her way to the desert display.

  “They also make a really good apple pie.” He grins and I can’t help but return a grin of my own. He looks adorable, like a little boy waiting for his ice cream.

  “So how old is your sister?”

  “She’s twenty five.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Elizabeth, but we call her Lizzy. How did you become a singer?” Again he throws the conversation back to me. He really is good at that.

  “I have been singing since I was a little girl. I grew up with the guys in my band. They immediately asked me to join them when they started. I share vocals with our lead singer Matt. We started off singing at weddings and bar mitzvahs, but thank God we got the gig at The Zone a few years ago. I was really happy about that since I hate singing at private parties.” I didn’t mean to ramble and share so much.

  “Oh I don’t know. Private parties can be a lot of fun.” He raises his eyebrows and smirks suggestively. It’s unfair how this man exudes sensuality, especially to warm-blooded females who’ve been on an exceptionally long unprovoked sexual dry spell, like me.

  Doris appears with the biggest piece of apple pie I have ever seen. Jack sees me eyeing it and says, “I usually don’t share. But you really need to try this.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “Nope. You need to try it. Trust me.” He cuts a huge piece off with his fork and shoves it into his own mouth first. “Mmm…damn it’s good.” He cuts another huge piece and stretches his arm towards me. “Taste.”

  I lean back in the booth and shake my head while he nods his.

  “Oh come on, I don’t have cooties. Try it.”

  I widen my eyes at the huge hunk of pie sitting on his fork. Jack licks his lips while watching me intently.

  Fuck…I really need to have sex.

  The bastard is doing this on purpose and he’s not going to let me off this hook.

  Well, two can play at this game.

  “Fine.” I lean forward, open my mouth wide, and take the pie from his fork, running my lips along the prongs to wipe them clean. Instinctively, I close my eyes, lick my lips and moan suggestively as I slowly chew.

  “Wow…that is good.” I open my eyes to see Jack staring at my mouth, with his fork still suspended in the air between us. In turn, I do the same in an effort to go tit for tat with him by visually devouring his chin, his stubble, and his lips before glancing back up to his eyes. I feel like we are playing chicken with each other. I’m not sure where this newfound confidence is coming from. I blame the Jack Lair voodoo. I haven’t acted like my typical self in his presence once since meeting him.

  Jack slightly shifts in his seat and shoves more pie into his mouth to break our eye contact.

  Game. Set. Match.

  One point two seconds later, by merely watching as he slowly chews his pie, my internal switch is flipped causing me to squirm in my own seat from the throbbing in my lower region.

  Close game.

  There is an uncomfortable silence between us buzzing with sexual tension. I nonchalantly pick up my water as Jack consumes the rest of his pie.

  He finally breaks the silence by asking, “Um, how many guys are in your band?”

  “There are four guys and me. I am really proud of them. They have come a long way since playing in Logan and Matt’s basement.”

  “Matt is your co-lead. Who’s Logan?”

  “He’s our guitarist and Matt’s brother. Then there is Joseph our drummer, and Evan our bass player and my best friend.”

  He looks up at me. “Best friend? How did you and Evan become BFF’s?”

  I pause and try to answer his question without giving him my life story. “Well, we met in middle school. Evan is a year older than I am. We connected and have been inseparable ever since. He’s very close to my dad as well.”

  “Oh, so Evan is like family?” Jack says this like a clarification. “How does Evan feel about your new career?” He takes another sip of his coffee while intently watching me.

  “He is my biggest fan, even more than dad. He’ll miss me, but I know we will speak every day and nothing will change between us. We simply won’t let it.” I admit with complete honesty.

  He stares at me until I break the connection and look down to take a sip of my own coffee.

  “So Leila, besides Evan, is there anyone else that would be missing you terribly when we go on tour?”

  Is he asking me if I have a boyfriend?

  “My dad.” I shrug.

  Jack smirks smugly and nods. “Got it. Well, I’m glad we did this. I feel like I know you better already.”

  I glance at my phone and am shocked to see we have been sitting in this booth for over two hours. Jack motions for Doris and she makes her way over and says, “All done cutie pie?”

  “Yep, we are good to go. Thanks, Dee.” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. I reach for my bag and open it as well. He gives me a look and says, “No way. It’s on me.”

  “Thank you.”

  He nods and hands Doris the money. Once he slides out of the booth, he puts an arm around Doris and kisses her cheek. She looks like he just made her day.

  I follow Jack and slide out of the booth as well. Doris pats my arm like she has known me my whole life. “You take care of yourself Leila. Good luck with this crew. You’ll need it.” She says with humor.

  “Hey Dee, what the hell?” Jack throws his hands up just as she swats at his ass. It’s obvious Doris feels very comfortable with Mr. Sex on Legs.

  Jack puts his hand on my lower back as we walk out of the dinette and back towards the studio. I’m not even sure he is aware he is doing it. I’d like to think he is a gentleman and it’s just a habit instead of some cheesy move. It’s chivalrous and sweet and I like it.

  “Where are you parked?” He looks around as if he would be able to spot my car at a glance.

  “I’m over a few blocks.” I point behind me.

  “Do you want me to walk…”

  “No, not necessary.” I cut him off. “I’m fine. Thanks for lunch Jack. I had a nice time.”

  “Me too, Leila. I’ll touch base with you in a few days and let you know what the next step is.” He steps towards me and pulls me into a hug.

  He smells so good. He feels so good.

  Jack releases me, way too quickly for my liking. Waving as he turns and walks into the studio, he leaves me rooted to my spot near the front door. Through the glass I watch as he strolls over to Sally and she smiles at him. The woman can smile, so what do you know? He says something to her and she holds up a magazine. I wonder if Sally is a friend, or an ex? God, I hope not.

  I walk back to the lot where my car is parked, not remembering anything along the way except for Jack, and specifically that hug.

  ***

  I call Evan on as I drive home.

  “I can’t wait to hear all the details.”

  I am really going to miss him.

  “I thought I would make dinner for everyone tonight.” I ventured. ”Sort of wine and dine them, to help soften the
blow.”

  “You sure you want to do that? It could get messy.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. There are a few things I want to talk to you guys about, and I’d rather do it on my home turf. Can you ask the guys to come by around seven? That will give me a chance to pick up some stuff. Would you mind coming earlier though?” I don’t mean to turn him into my secretary, but I know Evan doesn’t mind.

  “How about I meet you at the store? I’ll help you get what you need.”

  We agree to meet in an hour.

  I arrive a few minutes earlier than Evan and make my way down the aisles to get my ingredients. I know I’m making them pasta, so I start throwing all I need into my cart. As I put the last few items in, I feel two hands cover my eyes from behind… Evan. He has been doing this since we were in middle school.

  Turning towards him, he brings me in for a hug. “Hey, Lei, I missed you.”

  I laugh and reply, “Ev, we saw each other yesterday.”

  “I know. Just sayin’.”

  Evan grabs my cart, and we start walking side by side down the aisles. “So how did it go?”

  “It went well. Contract is all signed, and we are starting rehearsals on the first of June.”

  “Not much time, huh?” His tone makes the lump form in my throat.

  “Well the good news is I will still be playing with you guys until we go out on tour in September. I had them add it to the contract. Rehearsals are in SoHo during the week. There is no reason I can’t continue playing at the bar on the weekends.”

  He stops the cart to face me. “Lei, won’t that be too much on you? Juggling two bands at once?”

  “No, Evan. I can handle it. I want to do this.” My words come out defensively.

  He sighs. He knows he will lose this battle. He could easily keep arguing with me on the subject, but he chooses to change it.

  “Ok, what are you making us tonight, because I’m starving?” This is the “Evan Miller” way of handling stress.

  “My specialty, penne with vodka sauce.”

  “Well then stop wasting time, woman.” He pushes the cart further down the aisle and then turns suddenly.

  “Can you make us some of your brownies too?”

  “Now you’re just taking advantage of me.”

  “Damn straight.” He doesn’t deny my accusation. “Make a double batch so I can take some home.” He grins as he walks away, probably knowing I can’t deny him.

  “Jerk.” I call after him and hear him laughing from the next aisle.

  Chapter 8–Jack

  I walk back into the studio after my lunch with Leila to see Sally is busy doing what she does best - nothing.

  “Busy at work Sal?”

  She looks up and beams. Sally is a little rough around the edges. If I weren’t in this business, I would probably be afraid of her. But truth be told, she is a sweetheart. She can act all badass, yet beneath it all she is a mush.

  “I am working hard, smart ass. I am researching.” I lean over the counter to see what it is she is researching. Lying on her lap is a playgirl magazine open to the centerfold.

  “And what research would that be for?” I ask quickly looking away. I have no desire to stare at some dude’s junk.

  “My next tattoo.” She says, as if it’s obvious. “Look, he has a cute little tattoo on his hip.” She lifts the magazine to show me and I turn away.

  “Ugh, get that thing out of my face. I’m out of here.”

  “Oh don’t leave. Come see page forty five, his tattoo is on his…”

  I leave a laughing Sally behind as I sprint down the hall. She can be such a ball buster. Like her, the guys are all sitting around the studio doing absolutely nothing.

  “Working hard boys?”

  “Where’ve you been? I texted you twice.” Hunter is at the drums playing with his sticks. He was born to be a drummer. It doesn’t matter where we are. He always sees a drum set and a beat to be found.

  “You did?” I pull out my phone and sure enough there are two texts. “I was with Leila.” Three sets of eyes gawk at me.

  “WHAT?” I know what they are thinking.

  “Jack, what are you doing?”

  “Really Scott?”

  It’s annoying how these douche-bags blatantly don’t trust me around girls. Granted, I don’t have the best track record, and I have been thinking about Leila constantly…but still.

  “Really Jack?”

  “Cut the crap. I don’t screw every girl I meet.” They all continue to stare at me like I just announced I wanted to have a sex change. “Fine. I admit it. I banged her in the back alley.”

  Scott raises his eyebrows like he believes me, the dickhead. I’m about to blow my fucking fuse. “Christ. I took her to Leo’s and bought her a grill cheese. Give me a goddamn break.”

  “Calm down.” Scott counters. “I’m just sayin’.”

  Hunter ignores my irritability and announces, “So while you were gone wooing Leila, we decided we need to have a party.”

  “Where?” I grunt in irritation from these idiots.

  “Our place, genius. We can’t have it at Scott’s because it’s too small, and there isn’t a person on earth that would go to Trey’s neighborhood willing.” We all look over at Trey and without even looking up from his guitar he flips Hunter off. This causes me to laugh out loud.

  “Our place? Really? How many people do you want to invite to this party?” I like going to parties, not throwing them. Not to mention I really don’t want us to lose roof privileges either. I love my roof.

  “We thought it would be cool to invite Leila, and see if she wants to bring some friends.” He rambles on a few other names, but I’m no longer listening.

  Leila?

  I don’t know how I feel about that. I guess we do need to start including her. She is part of the band. But inviting her to a party at our apartment? Not that I would hit on her while she was in my apartment, but do I want anyone else to?

  NO!

  Wait…what??!!

  With a sigh, I impassively respond, “When?”

  “Sunday. Leila is off on Sundays.”

  “Fine, but the roof is off limits. No one goes up there. Got it?”

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever Dad.”

  Party, alcohol and Leila? Fuck.

  I feel like these dicks are setting me up for failure. Stupid, I know. I’m about to spend a lot of time with her, and I’ll have to learn how to deal with it. Still, I’m a textbook procrastinator and I need to work up to that.

  We decide to call it a day and head for one of our regular hangouts after we unproductively rehearse for a few hours. Walking the short distance to the bar, I can’t help but feel these moments of complete normalcy may soon be rare, if non-existent. Where we can walk down the street inconspicuously and anonymously. I can’t help but wonder what will happen when we take this exact path a year from now. Hopefully, we will be running from hoards of screaming fans or better yet, driven from place to place in a big ass obnoxious stretch Hummer.

  We stop on the way for a quick bite. It’s still fairly early once we arrive at the bar and it’s not long before several females make their way over to our corner and rudely invade our private party. Normally, I’d be fine with mooching girls looking for a good time. I’m not in the mood tonight. I’m exhausted. Plus, I’m still freaked out from my Leila induced wet-dreams and the fact she is invading my thoughts. Not to mention how bad I wanted to suck the remnants of pie off her lips at the diner.

  Shit…

  Scott’s whole demeanor stops any girls from approaching him at all. It’s funny actually. He looks so wholesome and sweet, but he sends out this vibe that clearly says, “Fuck off, I’m taken.” Shortly after his second beer, he takes off to meet up with Patti.

  Trey is also gone. We have no idea where he went, and probably will not see him until tomorrow. That’s Trey. No goodbye, he just disappears. I would love to know if he hooks up every time he disappears or if he just finds us so boring
that he can’t be bothered.

  That leaves Hunter, two chicks and me who have hitched their tents. I quietly drink my beer and decide to ignore everyone around me. Hunter on the other hand is talking to the brunette with long curly hair. I notice her for the first time and I am impressed. Turned up nose, plump lips, and a nice body. She’s cute. She seems very shy, which means Hunter is the initiator and is actually engaged in a conversation with an attractive shy female. There must be pigs flying by outside.

  Her friend is a perky blonde with a killer body. She seems opposite to the brunette in every way. I’m curious why they are friends. The blonde persistently bumps her ass up against my hip as she chats with Hunter and her friend. After the third time, she turns towards me and apologizes.

  “Oh, sorry.”

  “No worries.”

  She leans in close enough to give me a juicy view of her impressive cleavage and asks, “So, you guys are in a band?”

  Oh brother.

  “No, I’m a mortician.” I wink and take a swig of my beer. It takes her a few seconds before she giggles at my joke and stealthily places her hand on my wrist.

  My humor opens her floodgates. Blondie morphs into a cartoon character, albeit with big boobs, and starts animatedly yapping, touching, leaning in, winking, and licking her lips. She pulls out all the stops.

  As she drones on and on, my brain quickly assesses the situation. Yes, she is attractive and definitely has a hot body. She’s kind of annoying and is flirting heavily with me, but she’s asking too many questions and that’s definitely a red flag.

  I decide if Hunter wants to take her friend home then I’ll do the same. I firmly place our fate in his hands while knowing damn well that his track record with bringing home girls downright sucks.

  The name of Hunter’s chick is Amanda. The blonde is Rachel. We buy them a round of drinks, then another. The more Rachel drinks, the more she touches me. What seems like hours later, they finally excuse themselves to go to the ladies room.

  The minute they walk away I ask, “So, are you taking her home tonight?”