by Hamel, B. B.
Until that moment, I kept it under lock. I tried to stay professional, because I really do care about this project.
But I also care about her. I also need her.
I stare at my computer screen and finally I give up. I’m just too excited to pretend to work. I pick up my phone and dial her number, not really expecting her to answer.
But she does. “Hi, Ben,” she says.
“Hi, Alice. I just played our song for Markus.”
“How’d it go?”
“About how I thought it would.”
Short silence. “Does he like it?”
“Of course he does. And we’re getting some players.”
She laughs and sounds genuinely delighted. I love that she’s getting as into this as I am.
“Amazing,” she says. “I kind of thought this was just going to be some little operation.”
“No joke now,” I say. “Markus is already talking about how many units we’ll sell.”
“Shit,” she says, and sounds a little scared.
“Don’t worry, he’s mostly joking.”
“I hadn’t thought about actually, you know, selling the album.”
“That’s the goal, right?”
“I guess.”
“We want to release it into the world.”
“Yeah.”
“You sound nervous.”
She takes a breath. “I guess I am.”
“Why?”
“I mean, I’ve just been teaching piano and tuning the things forever. I’ve never, like, put anything out into the world.”
“I can get that,” I say softly. “I haven’t either.”
“But you seem so confident.”
“One of us has to be. Plus, I know how good you are.”
“Doesn’t matter how good I am if I’m working with the likes of you.”
I laugh and half turn to look out the window at the city. She’s out there somewhere, and I bet she’s smiling right now.
“You’re lucky to be working with someone of my caliber.”
“Please. I’m carrying this team.”
“Hardly. Without me, you’d still be teaching rich brats scales in your spare time.”
“Billy Joel,” she corrects.
“Huh?”
“He wanted to learn Billy Joel. And anyway, that’s not the point. I’m the mastermind here and I want you to admit it.”
“Never gonna happen.”
“Fine. Your loss.”
I laugh softly and lean back in my chair. I love these moments where we can forget who we are and where we’ve come from, when we can just be in the moment with each other completely, even if it is just over the phone.
“I already know who we’re gonna hire,” I tell her, moving on.
“Anyone I know?”
“Maybe. The drummer’s name is Tony Hammer, he’s played on a bunch of our records.”
“Doesn’t sound familiar.”
“Bassist is Caleb Change. You probably don’t know him, he’s pretty young.”
“Yeah, never heard of either of them.”
“That’s what it’s like, being a studio musician. Nobody ever reads the damn liner notes.”
“I read them!” she protests.
“No, you don’t. Maybe once, but it’s in one ear and out the other.”
“And you memorize them all?”
“No,” I admit. “But I read them a couple times since I usually know most of the people involved already.”
“Oh, god. You’re such a big hotshot.”
“You know I am.”
She pauses for a second. “Listen, Ben.”
I can hear the nerves in her voice, like she’s worried about what I’m going to say. I have a bad feeling, but I keep it under control. No reason to freak out until after I’ve heard her.
“Yes, Alice?”
“About earlier.”
“I know, I know. Champagne in the morning is stupid.”
“No, I mean, you know.”
“You want to have that conversation?”
“We probably should.”
“Okay,” I say. “Go ahead. What do you want to say?”
“We shouldn’t be doing that.”
“Making out in public?”
“Making out in general.”
“Sounds boring.” I wrap my finger around the phone cable and wish I had called on my cell so that I could pace around the room.
“None of this is boring.”
“That’s true,” I admit. “That’s why you’re doing it.”
“I’m doing it for the three hundred thousand dollars you gave me.”
“That too.”
“Seriously, we can’t be, you know, kissing or whatever.”
“Or whatever? Did we do something else?”
“We had sex,” she says, almost in a harsh whisper.
“We did what?”
She sighs. “You’re not taking this seriously.”
“I hadn’t noticed.”
“Come on, Ben. I mean, let’s be honest, there’s an attraction between us—”
“I’m glad you’re finally admitting it. You’ve been looking at me like I’m a piece of meat, and I was starting to like it.”
“—And we need to keep this professional,” she finishes.
“We can do that, if you want.”
She hesitates. I can practically see the surprise on her face. “We can?”
“Of course. Look, Alice. I know you want me desperately, but we should just be friends.”
She sighs. “I know you’re not taking this seriously, but please, just listen. I need this to stay professional, okay? I don’t want people to think…”
She trails off. “To think what?” I press.
“To think that I’m only in this because you want to fuck me.”
I laugh softly. “But that’s true.”
I love the anger in her voice as she snaps, “I’m in this because I’m the better piano player.”
“Also true.”
“Don’t be an ass.”
“Listen, I know John catching us was weird. Like I said, if you want to stay professional, we will.”
“Okay,” she says.
“But,” I continue before she can say more, “that doesn’t mean I don’t want to fuck you, Alice. Because I do want you. I want to taste your skin again, feel that tight pussy around my cock while I slide myself deep inside of you. I want to hear you moan and beg my name and I want to make you come. I want to fuck you, Alice, and don’t try to fool yourself otherwise.”
She’s quiet for a moment. I think I might’ve lost her, except I can hear her breathing.
“You really are an ass.”
“I’m just up front.”
“Fine. Say whatever you want. But we’re keeping it professional.”
“We’ll see,” I say softly.
She hangs up the phone. I bet she’s bright red and angry.
I wish I were there. She’s fucking sexy as hell when she’s pissed.
I smile to myself as I hang up my phone and turn back to my computer. I love the idea of riling her up, getting her angry, but I love the idea of telling her exactly what I want even more.
I’m not going to bullshit her. Alice is talented and that’s why we’re working together, but I do want to fuck her. I want her enough to pay her an absurd amount of money. She has to know I won’t back down.
I don’t think she wants me to. Based on the way she kissed me back, I can say that with confidence.
She wants me to fuck her just as badly as I want it.
I’m going to have fun making her realize it.
14
Alice
Tony slams the kick over and over, a thumping backbeat as Ben plays his guitar. I keep the rhythm going on the keyboards, constantly glancing up at Ben.
It’s not bad. We’ve been jamming for the last hour, basically just getting to know each other. Tony is this big guy, bald and grinning, while Caleb looks re
ally young although Ben told me that he’s twenty-two. They’re both fantastic musicians, and I can already feel the quality of our music increasing dramatically.
Finally the playing comes to an end and Ben grins over at me. “What do you think?” he asks.
“I think my hands are tired and we sound great,” I say.
Tony laughs, getting up from behind the kit. “Guess it is getting late.”
“Drink?” Caleb asks.
“Drink,” Tony agrees.
We switched over to a late time slot to accommodate the new guys, which I prefer, but I haven’t exactly adjusted to it. We’re pushing near midnight now, and I’m feeling exhausted, but I know I can’t go home.
Ben agrees and the four of us spill out into the night. Tony Hammer leads the way toward a bar he says he knows is nearby, and I hang back with Ben.
“We’ll have Tony play a new drum track for “Tune”,” he says to me. “And Caleb can come up with a new bass line if he wants.”
“That works for me.”
“Good. What do you think of them?”
“Tony’s a little intense,” I say softly. “But they’re both nice.”
“Good. I want you to like them. We’re going to be spending a lot of time together.”
I glance at the two session players. Caleb looks like a little boy, while Tony is the polar opposite, big and brash and bold. They seem to know each other pretty well though.
“How many times have you worked with them?” I ask Ben.
“Tony, at least a dozen. Caleb, maybe four or five. They’re both solid guys. Never had any issues.”
I nod. “Okay. Good.”
“Trust me, I want this to go smooth. But if you ever have any issues with them…” He trails off and shrugs. “Just tell me and they’re gone.”
I laugh and nudge against him. “Okay, sure. Whatever you say, boss.”
He smirks at that with something more than simple amusement, and I have to look away. I know what he’s thinking, but I wish he wouldn’t.
I can’t get that moment on the phone out of my head. What he said, what he described… I want it so badly it hurts. As soon as I could, I locked myself in my bathroom and got myself off just thinking about what he said, his cock inside of me, his body against mine…
I can feel myself getting all flushed, and I have to force the thought from my mind. We’re keeping it professional. That’s what we agreed.
Tony steers us around a corner and we head into this little bar in the basement of a building. The floor is vinyl and gross, while the ceiling is a moldy drop style, but Tony doesn’t seem to care. He and Caleb head right over to the bar.
“Where are we right now?” I ask Ben.
He laughs a little. “This is the Filthy Pig.”
“Really? Looks like it.”
“You’re not the first to make that joke.”
“I’m not really joking.”
He laughs and leads me over to the bar. The guys all order drinks but when it comes to my turn, I pretend like I can’t decide what I want.
Eventually the guys start talking music. Apparently Tony worked on an album with Ben producing pretty recently, so they spend some time going over that. I’m left with Caleb, who lets me sit down on a sketchy-looking stool.
“How long have you known Ben?” he asks me.
I shrug and decide to be honest. “Like a month.”
His eyes bug you. “Seriously? And you’re already in the studio with him?”
“Got lucky, I guess.”
“That guy’s a genius,” Caleb says with a little awe. “I mean, he produced Slide’s first record, you know?”
“I know,” I say. “He’s great behind the board.”
“And his songs aren’t bad. I mean, the melody for Tune is just…”
“I wrote that.”
He blinks. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Huh. Guess you’re the talented one, then.”
“That’s what I keep telling him.”
Caleb laughs. “Are you sure you don’t want a drink?”
I shake my head. “No, thanks.”
“Right. Pregnant, huh?”
I gape at him for a second. “Excuse me?”
“You’re not drinking, so I assume you’re pregnant.”
“Maybe I just don’t feel like drinking. Maybe I’m an alcoholic.”
“Could be,” he says, grinning. “But based on how defensive you’re getting, I’m starting to think I’m right.”
I open my mouth and shut it before taking a breath. “I’m not pregnant, okay?” I lie to him, feeling shitty about it, but whatever.
“Okay, sure. Doesn’t matter to me either way, preggo.”
I glare at him and he grins before shifting away, joining the other two in their conversation. I’m left sitting there, annoyed at his stupid sexist joke.
I turn away from the guys and order a club soda from the bartender. He brings it a minute later as Ben sidles up next to me, leaning against the bar.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Caleb just annoyed me, is all.”
“What’d he do?”
I hesitate. “Just made a bad joke.”
“I’ll fire him.”
“Not funny.”
He laughs. “Come on, lighten up. This is a good thing. We played some decent stuff back there.”
“Yeah, true.”
“With a little work, you’ll fit right in.”
I glare at him. “I think you’re the one that needs work. Didn’t we bring in session guys because you’re a lousy musician?”
“Ouch,” he says, grinning a little. “You play rough.”
I sigh. “Sorry.”
“Nah, it’s okay. It’s true though, I’m a damn good producer, but I’m pretty rusty as a musician.”
“I’ve never done anything like this before, so I think we’re even.”
“Okay, true. You’re just as bad as I am.”
I laugh a little, surprised at how he can make me feel better. He sips his beer and looks around the place.
“I used to come here a lot, back when I was broke,” he says. “They had dollar beer nights, but it started early, so I was hammered by like ten at night.”
“How old were you?” I ask.
“Young enough to get hammered by ten,” he says, grinning. “Those were early days for Somesuch. We used to all come here after sessions and get wasted then we’d stumble home and do it all again the next day.”
“Sounds fun,” I admit.
“It really was. That’s how Slide’s first record went. Things are different now, though. We’re professionals.”
The way he says that last word suggests he doesn’t hold it in such high esteem. “What would you do differently?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “There’s just this seriousness that crept in over the years. I know it has to do with money and being a bigger label. We can’t just be the young guys anymore, down to do whatever. We have to grow up.”
I bite my lip. “Not so bad, growing up?”
“Yeah, maybe.” He shrugs and looks at me. “Maybe that’s what I was fighting for so long, though. Growing up.”
I frown a little. “What do you mean?”
He sighs, shaking his head. “Nothing. Never mind.”
I want to ask more but Tony pulls him away. They go over and play darts with Caleb. I end up drifting over and watching, but I don’t stay much longer.
That comment from Ben plays through my mind on the way home. I’m exhausted but I can’t stop wondering what he meant.
What was he doing that wasn’t growing up, and is he finally ready to get there?
I can make some guesses. The drinking, the drugs, the women. But as for whether he’s finally ready to be the man he’s supposed to be…
I don’t know. That’s the risk I’m taking. That’s the reason I hate him, although my hate is slowly being chipped away.
Every new kiss. Ev
ery joke. It all makes me like him a little bit more.
I go to bed as soon as I get home. I keep replaying that evening in my mind: jamming with the guys, Caleb’s joke about me being pregnant, Ben saying he wants to grow up. I don’t know what it all means, but there’s something in there. Something I haven’t seen yet.
For now, I’ll keep looking.
15
Ben
We spend another week with Tony and Caleb laying down tracks and tweaking “Tune” until it shines.
I’m something of a perfectionist. I mean, I’m not insane about it, but I also don’t like putting shit out into the world. I’ve produced enough albums by now to have a pretty good idea when a song’s getting close to finished and when you’re just beating a dead horse.
Sometimes that’s not an easy distinction. Sometimes there really are things that need to be tweaked and fixed, and sometimes you’re just getting too anal.
This song though, it’s driving me insane. I keep coming back to it, even when I think it’s done. Caleb and Tony probably put down like twenty different takes, including no fewer than four different bass lines from Caleb. I’m probably driving them insane, but they’re professionals and they don’t complain.
I just can’t see it. As much experience as I have, I just can’t. I know what the problem is, but it’s not easy to solve.
I’m in my apartment, my stereo on and the latest mix of “Tune” playing loud. It sounds damn good and I’m loving it, but I keep hearing little things, keep coming up with little tweaks I could be making. I sit down at my work station, a little mini-studio I have in the back corner of my living room where I can do some simple stuff.
Instead of opening the track and getting at it, I stop myself. I stare at the screen and take a deep breath.
Before I know it, I’m calling Alice.
She answers, even though it’s a little after ten. “Ben?” she says. “What’s up?”
“I know this is our day off,” I tell her, “but I need your help.”
She sounds a little suspicious. “What do you need?”
“I keep listening to this song, over and over again, and I honestly can’t hear it anymore.”
She takes a breath, slowly lets it out. “Okay,” she says. “I can tell.”