by Shari Copell
“Who’s running sound?” Pip asked.
“Dimitri.” Nicks turned just in time to see her eyes go wide. Pip had a thing for Dimitri Stavonos, Tapestries’ official sound man.
“Ohhh. Nice,” the little drummer girl purred as she restocked drumsticks in the cloth utility bag hanging from her kit. The tiny fiend broke at least four every time they played.
“Stone coming to see you?” asked Marybeth.
“I don’t know. He didn’t say.” Nicks was annoyed at the way his name seemed to cause a tickle in her stomach that finally settled somewhere south of that. Apparently, the rest of her was not as conflicted about him as her head.
CHAPTER SEVEN
It wasn’t a particularly hard guitar solo, but Stone couldn’t seem to get it right. He sat on the edge of the makeshift riser near the pool to practice, but his thoughts kept drifting to Nicks Sorenson.
Heavy Remedy didn’t usually play Friday night gigs, but this private party for a spoiled rich kid in Fox Chapel paid too much to pass up. Too bad his heart wasn’t in it. He wanted nothing more than to jump in his car, head to East Carson Street, and see the tiny guitar player who seemed to have set his blood on fire.
“Man, that sounds awful. You sure you’re in tune?”
Stone looked up to see Mike Dorton, Heavy Remedy’s bass player, standing in front of him.
“I guess I’m not sure of anything anymore, Mike.” He nestled the guitar into the crushed velvet-lined case beside him with a sigh.
Mike took a seat on the riser. “What’s the matter? You need to get laid? There’ll be lots of babes at this party tonight. It’s warm enough yet for them to swim, so we’ll probably see some tits and bush once the alcohol gets flowing. Maybe even be lucky enough to get some.” He rubbed his hands together. “No need to be depressed, my friend.”
Mike was the funnyman of the band. He was rude and crude, and the women fell all over him for some reason. He usually found Mike’s antics entertaining. Tonight he found him irritating as hell.
Stone scowled and got to his feet.
“God, you really are in a mood. What’s up?” Mike rose as well, his brow creased with concern.
“How long is this party supposed to last tonight?” Maybe he still had a shot at making it to Tapestries before Wild Angel finished.
“One, two in the morning. I don’t know. The kid’s parents said they would pay extra for us to play longer if people were having a good time. Why?”
“I was hoping to get over to see Wild Angel at Tapestries tonight.” Stone bent over, closed his guitar case, and flipped the latches.
Mike chuckled behind him. Stone straightened, wondering if it would be a bad idea to put his fist in the bass player’s face before he could say anything.
“Uh oh. Stoney wants a taste of their little guitar player. I bet she has the sweetest wet pussy. I’ll bet she howls like a dog when she’s getting...”
Stone turned and grabbed Mike by the front of his shirt with both hands. “Shut the fuck up about her,” he said through clenched teeth. “You don’t know her.”
Mike pried Stone’s fingers from his shirt. “That didn’t stop you from saying the same thing about her a year ago though. Did it?”
Stone turned to walk away. “I was a fucking idiot then. I should learn to keep my mouth shut.”
Mike grabbed his arm. “You really have it bad. How do you know her?”
“All you need to know is that I spent a couple of hours with Nicks Sorenson Thursday night at the high school. And I’ll be spending more time with her in the week to come. She’s a great girl. And the first person who makes a smart-ass comment about fucking her or says anything about her body parts is going to get their respective instrument shoved up their ass. Drums, guitar, whatever.” Stone pointed his finger at Mike. “You assholes need to grow up. Me included.”
“We saved the best for last, boys,” Nicks said into the mic. “This is an original song the three of us wrote called Don’t Fuck With Me.”
“Hold on for a second.” Charm grabbed a bottle of water from behind the stack of Marshall amps and chugged it, then held it against her forehead.
Pip adjusted the drummer’s throne and wiped her hands on the towel hanging from the hi-hat stand. Nicks dipped her head in acknowledgment. They all needed a moment to catch their breath and regroup.
Nicks was sweating from her neck to her ankles, her body wrapped tightly in a black leather bustier and pants, but she was too pumped to be uncomfortable. The night had been awesome, one of their best shows ever.
“Talk for a minute until I cool off,” whispered Charm. “I’m dying over here.”
Nicks turned back to the mic, shading her eyes with her hands against the hot lights overhead. “I don’t see anything but black leather out there tonight. Jesus, you fuckers into bondage or what?”
A huge cheer went up from the crowd. “How many subs we got out there?” She was surprised when a few hands went up. “How many doms?” Nicks laughed. Shit! There were a few of those too.
“How ‘bout you be my bottom?” a muscle-bound jerk called from off to the left of the stage.
“How ‘bout you shut the fuck up?” Nicks responded. She brushed a hand down her leather-clad body. “Do I look like a bottom to you?”
The whole bar went nuts cheering.
Snickering, Nicks turned to Pip. “You ready?” Pip nodded. She cut her eyes to Charm. Another nod.
“Hold on to your titties, girls,” said Pip, lifting her sticks to deliver a four-count. “We’re about to blast off!”
Click, click, click, click.
Wham! Nicks hit the first chord of the song with such a blast that the crowd of men near the stage took a step back. She pushed the black Strat out in front of her with a hipbone as she played.
She’d sung her heart out that night. Her voice was nearly gone, but it gave the song a dangerous edge that she liked. She made a mental note to save that song for last every Friday night.
Stone left Fox Chapel heading for Tapestries, hoping against hope he could at least catch the last few songs of Wild Angel’s set. It was one in the morning. If they played until two, he might just make it.
The traffic was heavy though, and he wasn’t a patient man. “C’mon, c’mon, assholes! I got places to be!”
It was going on three by the time Stone wheeled his new Camaro into the back parking lot of the bar. There were still a few cars near the door. He hoped Nicks hadn’t left yet.
He pounded on the door, not really expecting anyone to answer it. He was surprised when the grizzled, gray-haired woman who bartended pushed it open.
“We’re closed, pal. Sorry.” She started to pull it shut, but he grabbed the handle.
“Wait! Is Nicks still here?” He hated that he sounded hopeful and desperate all at the same time.
The bartender swung the door open again and squinted into the half-light. “Stone Jensen? Is that you?”
“Yes, ma’am.” She knew him by name! Maybe Nicks had talked about him. “Is she still here?”
The woman gave him a speculative look. “Yeah. She’s still here.”
Before he could respond, the door exploded open. The biggest blond dude he’d ever seen in his life suddenly had him by the throat and was walking him backward across the parking lot.
“You the guy who said those shitty, cowardly things about my daughter last year?” Stone came up short when the man bounced him against a truck.
It was clearly a rhetorical question. Obviously the man was well aware that he was the asshole who had said shitty, cowardly things about his daughter, if, in fact, Nicks was this man’s daughter. And there was no reason to think otherwise, given the way the man had reacted to Stone’s full name being said out loud.
“But I apologized!” Stone squeaked. The man’s fingers were iron bands around his neck. There would surely be a bruise tomorrow.
“Daddy! It’s okay! He told me he was sorry, and I believe him.”
Ston
e would’ve exhaled in relief when he heard Nicks’s voice, but there was no air moving in or out of his lungs. He stared up at the man who had him pinned. Crazy blue eyes under a Neanderthal brow ridge glowered down at him.
Nicks came around the back of her father and pulled on his arm. “Don’t hurt him, Daddy.”
The man loosened his grip, but his expression remained one of fury. “You ever talk about my little girl like that again, and I’ll turn you into a eunuch. We clear on that?”
“Perfectly.”
The death-grip loosened then was gone. Growling under his breath, the blond behemoth turned and stalked back into the bar.
“Jesus…” Stone put a hand to his neck and started to slide to his knees.
Nicks grabbed him by the arm. “God, I’m so sorry. Daddy was really mad when he heard what you said about me.”
“D’ya think?” His neck muscles felt paralyzed. He tried to focus on breathing.
She put her hands on her hips. “You can’t say you didn’t deserve it.”
“Touché.” He was having a hard time keeping his eyes on her face. She was wearing the sexiest outfit he’d ever seen. He loved a woman in tight, black leather, but he knew she would see it as an insult if she caught him ogling her body. The last thing he wanted to do was offend her again.
“What are you doing here so late?”
“We played a job tonight, a private party in Fox Chapel. I was hoping to get done early enough to come and see you.”
“Really? You came all the way from Fox Chapel to Tapestries at this hour?”
He nodded and gasped for air. When he lifted his head to look at her, she had the strangest expression on her face, as though she were pondering a clue to some great mystery.
The back door of the bar swung wide. A woman came out carrying a box and opened the back of the truck he was propped against. “We’re ready to go if you are,” she said.
“Coming, Mom.” She pivoted back to Stone. “We’re done cleaning up now. We’re all going home.”
“Will you…Do you think your father would let me take you home? Would you want to ride home with me?”
“I don’t want you to have to go out of your way. I can ride home with Mom and Dad.” Nicks looked over his shoulder into the center of the parking lot. “Although a girl might change her mind if she could ride home in something like that.”
He turned. She was staring at his bright red, brand-new Chevy Camaro. It shone like a fiery jewel in the glow of the streetlights. The grill appeared to be grinning mischievously.
“You like that?” Stone pulled the key fob out of his jeans’ pocket and pressed the button to unlock it. The car headlights came on. He turned back to her with a smug half-smile. “Boom! What d’ya think of that!”
“No way! You got your new car.” She bumped him on the arm with her elbow. “Let me get my things and I’ll tell Mom and Dad you’re driving me home. You are taking me straight home, right?”
“That’s entirely up to you. I am at your disposal tonight. We can do whatever you want to do.”
Please, please. Let me take you for pizza or something. Please don’t bring the evening to an end.
“I think you should. I’ve been up for nearly twenty-four hours. Though I won’t bitch if you take the scenic route. That car is wicked.” Nicks bit her lip and gave him a flirtatious smile.
He let his gaze drift over the back of her as she walked away.
Tempting swing of the hips? Check. Gorgeous, round little ass wrapped in black leather? Check. A smooth, curvaceous back and shoulders heretofore seen only on sculptures in the Louvre? Check.
Stone closed his eyes and blew out a breath.
I do respect her. I do! But I am a man, after all.
“You didn’t hurt him, did you?” Chelsea turned to her husband as he drove them home from the bar. His face in profile looked like a bird of prey. Normally kind and even-tempered, Tage was a warrior when it came to his children.
“I don’t think so. He seemed okay.”
“What are you going to do if this boy ends up being your son-in-law someday?”
“Laugh about it over a beer?” Tage laughed. “Really. I think he’s fine. I wanted to make it clear that I don’t tolerate shit like that where my daughter is concerned. Now that he knows where I stand, he’ll either run for the hills, or he’ll respect her.” He shrugged. “Given the look on his face when I had him by the throat, I’m thinking he’ll be respectful. I just helped him make the logical choice.”
“Even if he doesn’t end up our son-in-law, I’ll bet he thinks twice the next time he’s tempted to insult someone he doesn’t know.”
“That’s all I wanted.” Tage rolled his window up and turned on the heater. “Y’know, I kind of understand why he did it.”
“What?”
“Said those things about her. It was purely a wounded male ego. Here is Stone Jensen, celebrated Pittsburgh guitarist, who has been in Rolling Stone magazine, who’s shared the stage with any number of big-name acts. He’s feeling good about himself. He’s the shit. So he looks around and who does he find as a peer? Who’s the one person in the city who can stand toe-to-toe with him on a guitar? An eighteen–year-old girl who wouldn’t weigh a hundred and ten pounds if her hair was wet. It must have been a shock to his bad little rock-star self that he wasn’t the only star in the sky.”
“You surely don’t condone...” Chelsea turned to her husband with narrowed eyes.
“Of course I don’t condone what he did. I’m not trying to excuse it. I’m simply trying to give you some insight into the male mind. We all like to think we’re the alpha-dog. We don’t even like being shown up by other males. It’s a slap in the face when we get put in our place by a female.”
“Do tell.” Chelsea crossed her arms.
“I think he panicked and did the first thing that came to mind. He tried to diminish her by taking the focus off her talent and calling attention to her gender. But he was really intrigued and just didn’t know how to approach her. Once he gave it some thought, he realized an apology was in order. He clearly likes her.”
She settled back against the seat and looked out the passenger side window. “The male mind. Fascinating.”
Tage threw her a lame half-smile. “You should feel privileged. We men don’t share our secrets with just anyone. So now you’re in the loop.”
“Thank you so much. What did you think of the girls tonight?”
Tage drew in a deep breath and held it for a moment. Chelsea knew what that meant. It was a sign that he’d given it some thought and had a profound opinion on the matter.
“Musically, they’re the best. They’re loud, and I don’t care for the style of music they play, but you can’t deny that each of those girls has an excellent command of their instrument.” Another long, drawn out sigh. “I really wish Nicks didn’t talk like that onstage.”
“It’s only a stage persona, Tage. You know that.”
“She has a smart mouth sometimes, but she isn’t the sexual siren she pretends to be up there. I don’t like the language, and I think it gives the audience the wrong impression about her. Christ, there were men older than me drooling over them tonight.”
“So you’re uncomfortable with Nicks as a sexual being?” Insight into the male mind, indeed.
“Yes. I guess. I don’t know. I know that Nicks is a sweet girl most of the time. She comes across as snotty when she’s onstage.”
“She’s nearly nineteen. My parents were married at eighteen.”
“I’m not ready for this, Chelsea. I was just changing her diapers and giving her a bottle. And I have two more girls growing up after her.”
“So you don’t feel that way about your sons? You think Reese isn’t sexual at fifteen?” Chelsea knew that fathers agonized over their daughters, but children eventually grew up. It was hard, but you had to be prepared to let them go. “I don’t know what to tell you. These are things you’ll have to work through, dear.”
&
nbsp; “I would’ve expected more sympathy from you.”
“I am sympathetic. I just know enough not to worry about things I can’t control.”
They rode on in silence for a while. Chelsea got the feeling he was hurt.
“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I just don’t know what you think can be done about the things she says onstage. She’s an adult.”
He was silent for a moment. “You deny it every time, but you do treat her differently. You let her say and do things she shouldn’t. I get the feeling you’re hoping to give the world another Asher Pratt.”
“Don’t you dare start that shit with me. I see Asher in her. I can’t do anything about that.”
“Asher Pratt never talked like that when he played with the Turtles.”
Chelsea turned to him. “How would you know?”
“I lived in Pittsburgh for a number of years before I took the job at Tapestries. I did make the rounds once in a while.”
She leaned forward and put her elbows on the console. “Here’s an insight into the female mind. Nicks is trying to prove herself in a male-dominated profession. That means she has to work three times as hard to be taken seriously. Men, interesting creatures that they are, tend to see only body parts. Do you understand how that must feel to someone with her level of talent? For Christ’s sake, you bandaged her bloody fingers after she spent hours practicing! You know how hard she’s worked to get where she is on the guitar.” She leaned back and ran her hands through her hair. “It’s no wonder she copped an attitude when she heard that Stone called her a guitar-playing pussy. That would piss anyone off.”
There was strained silence again. Chelsea wasn’t backing down on this. Did she treat Nicks differently than their other children? She was prepared to say a definite maybe. She had such high hopes for her oldest daughter. Nicks had been Asher’s gift to her. She was just trying to be a good steward of that gift.
“How about if I take you home and give you some insight into the male libido?” Tage asked, giving her a wicked smile.