Cale is overprotective of me. He’s always had that big-brother syndrome when it came to me. It increased tenfold when Dex betrayed me. And I know Cale is hurting over it, too. Dex was his oldest friend, his best friend. Cale misses him. He’ll never admit it to me, but I know he does.
“Cale…don’t get mad, but I was thinking maybe you should make contact with Dex.”
“What?” He rears back like I just slapped him.
“Just hear me out.”
“Sure, go on.” He gestures an angry hand at me. “Enlighten me with your wisdom.”
“Don’t be a bitch.”
That raises a small smile from him.
“Cale, Dex was your best friend before all of this, and I know you miss him. It wasn’t you he betrayed, and when I made you choose between him and me…with the band…I should have never done that.”
His brown eyes flash with anger. He sits up, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his face close to mine. “Let’s get one thing straight. You never made me choose anything. The minute Dex betrayed you, he betrayed me, the band, all of us. He made us choose. And you thinking I should get in touch with him…Jesus Christ.” He shakes his head. “I don’t even know Dex anymore. I’m not sure I ever did, and call me insane, but I could never call a guy who would betray his own sister, the way Dex did to you, a friend. So, are we done here?”
Swallowing past my emotions, I nod.
Cale takes my face in his hands. “Good. I got your back, Ly, always. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again. And I know you think you don’t have a big brother anymore, but you do, right here.”
I place my hands over his. “Thanks, Cale.”
“Anytime, Ly.” He kisses my forehead and releases me. Getting to his feet, he says, “So, are we going to this bar or what?”
Shaking my head, I laugh at him. “Absolutely. Lead the way, big bro.”
A Few Days Later—Vintage’s Apartment, LA
“Tom Carter?”
“Yes. Tom Carter.”
“You mean, Tom Carter, bass player for The Mighty Storm. That Tom Carter?”
“Yes, Lyla, that Tom Carter.” Dina’s starting to sound a bit frustrated with me.
Which I understand because I sound like a broken record right now. It’s just that my head keeps rejecting what she’s telling me, refusing to stick.
“Tom Carter…but I don’t understand.”
“What’s there to understand? Tom is taking my place as your tour manager.”
It seems Zane decided not to give us the news as I’m hearing it from Dina.
But Tom Carter. Total mut. Hits on me every time I see him.
He is the epitome of mut.
“So, Tom Carter is going to be our manager. He’ll be coming on tour with us?”
Dina laughs, but I hear exasperation in it. “For the last time, Lyla, yes! Tom is now your manager, and he will be touring with you for the next six weeks.”
Crappity crappola.
Tom Carter.
God help me.
I didn’t even know Tom worked for TMS Records. Of course, he’s one-fourth of The Mighty Storm, but I thought that’s where his association ended. TMS Records is Jake’s business. Tom is just the bass-playing mut, who will stick his dick in anything that has a pulse and a vagina. Actually, I don’t think he’d care if it had a pulse.
Meow. Saucer of milk needed at Lyla’s table.
“Call me stupid, but I don’t understand why Tom is going to be our manager. He’s not a manager. He’s a musician.”
Dina lets a breath out on the other side of the line. “And Jake Wethers is a singer in a band. He is also the owner of the kick-ass label I work for, the same one your band is signed to.” She changes the tone in her voice to business. “I know what you’re thinking, Lyla, but this is Jake’s call, and he rarely makes the wrong call. He trusts Tom, so we trust Tom. I won’t question Jake on his decision. He’s got enough to deal with at the moment. And Zane backs him on this.”
She’s right. Now, I feel like a total bitch for whining about this.
Jake’s fiancée, Tru, along with her bodyguard and best friend were in a serious car accident a few weeks ago. Even worse, Tru was pregnant at the time of the accident. Their baby boy was born early by C-section. Thankfully, he was fine. But Tru was in a coma for a week.
She’s okay now and on the mend, and their baby, JJ, is doing really well. But Jake has had a terrible time, and I’m not about to go bother him about my worries over Tom being our manager.
I’ll just have to suck it up.
“I’m sorry,” I utter. “I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful and whiny.”
“You didn’t sound like either, Lyla. I get your concerns. I do. They crossed my mind when Zane told me, but Jake wouldn’t make any decision that could jeopardize this tour for you. He rates you guys really highly. He wants the best for you, like I do.”
That warms me right up. “You’re right. Six weeks with Tom as our manager will be…fine. A piece of cake.” I’m trying to sound confident, but I don’t feel it.
“You’ve got this, Lyla. And I don’t think Tom will be…well, um, Tom. Not while he’s working with you guys. There’s a lot riding on this tour. Tom’s a lot of things, but he wouldn’t let Jake down.”
“No, he wouldn’t,” I agree.
Well, I’m not sure that I actually agree. I don’t know Tom that well, but on each occasion that I’ve met him, he’s hit on me every single time. Each time, I turned him down. He didn’t seem to like that so much. I got the impression that women don’t turn Tom down.
Well, this woman did.
I might recognize that Tom is hot, very hot, but I’m not about to change my views over a really hot guy.
Especially not Tom, the biggest mut the world has seen.
My virginia is closed for business. Virginia is my nickname for my vajayjay.
“So, you’ve got this?” Dina asks.
“I’ve got this.” I smile for no one’s benefit but my own. “I’ll let the boys know. Sonny will freak. Tom’s his idol.”
Dina laughs. “Yeah? Well, let’s hope Sonny never reaches the stats that Tom has.”
That makes me laugh. “I don’t know, Dina. Sonny is already well on his way.”
The door to the apartment opens, and the boys all pile in, pizza and beer in hand.
“The boys just got home. Talk to you soon?”
“Absolutely. I’ll check in with you and see how things are going.”
After hanging up, I slide my cell into my pocket.
I wait until the guys are all sitting on the sofa around me before I speak. “That was Dina on the phone.” This brings all eyes to me.
I take the bottle of beer that Sonny is holding out to me.
“So, what’s happening?” Cale asks.
The anxious tone in his voice is not lost on me. It’s been a stressful few days.
I pop the cap on my beer. “Jake got us a replacement manager.”
“And…who is it?” Sonny pushes.
I take a quick drink and then hold the bottle in my lap. “Tom Carter.”
Sonny’s eyes widen. “Tom Carter…as in Tom Carter of The Mighty Storm. That Tom Carter?”
This feels very reminiscent of my conversation with Dina not a few minutes earlier—except mine was a kind of horror at the realization that Tom would be coming on tour with us where Sonny is at a barely containable excitement.
“Yep, the very one.” I press the bottle to my lips again. Tipping my head back, I take a bigger drink this time.
“Holy shit!” Van yells. “Tom Carter! On tour with us! Man, it’s gonna be wild! Chicks, parties…chicks! It’s gonna be so fucking wild! The man is a fucking legend!”
Sonny looks shell-shocked. Then, he springs to life. “Damn straight, he’s a legend! He’s a pussy legend! We are touring with the best there is! Just think of the stuff he can teach us.” He gets this dreamy look in his eyes.
Honestly, he’s starting to freak me out.
“What do you think, Cale?” Van slaps him on the back.
Cale grins. “I think it’s pretty fucking awesome.”
“Amen to that!” Sonny leans forward, clinking his beer bottle with Van’s. He high-fives Cale at the same time.
I’m just staring at them, wide-eyed and sick to the stomach.
This is exactly what I didn’t want, but I knew it would happen the instant I told them who was going on tour with us. I’m not boring. I honestly have no issue with the guys having fun. They have tons of fun and sleep with plenty of women.
But Tom Carter’s version of fun will be in a whole other league to my boys.
He’s going to ruin them and the tour.
It’s going to be more about Tom and the boys getting laid than the music. Tom’s focus will solely be on groupies instead of making sure the shows on the tour run smoothly.
I know his rep. He’s a player, not a hard worker.
We need a manager who has his eye on us at all times, not one whose eyes are all over the next chick he’s going to bang.
This is going to be a disaster.
I’m going to have to take on the role of manager, making sure the shows run smoothly, and somehow try to keep my boys in line while under Tom’s influence. If I let Tom run the show, by the end of this tour, Vintage will be dead in the water, and I’m going to be left with three clones of Tom Carter.
This reminds me of that Friends episode where Chandler and Joey start dressing and behaving like Monica’s boyfriend, Richard, because they think he’s really cool, and they want to be just like him. Both even grow a mustache like Richard’s.
Well, this is what I’m envisaging right now—three Tom Carter clones, formally known as Cale, Sonny, and Van. Instead of cigars and mustaches, it’ll be women and more women until I can’t see my boys through the layers of women they’re buried under. Vintage will die before we’ve begun, and I’ll be back to singing in shitty bars for the rest of my life.
I start chugging back on my beer, quickly emptying it, and I reach for another. I listen to the verbal diarrhea coming out of the guys’ mouths about what crazy shit they can get up to while on tour with the god of women that is Tom Carter.
I’ve just popped the cap on my beer when I feel the sofa depress beside me.
“You don’t seem overly happy that Tom Carter is our new manager,” Cale says in a quiet voice.
I turn my face to him and try to force a smile. “I am. I just—ugh,” I sigh, rubbing my hand over my face.
“You’re worried about his rep, right?”
“Yep. His rep.” And his tendency to try to get into my pants—well, mine and the rest of the population’s pants—whenever he sees me.
Cale puts his arm around my shoulder, pulling me to his side. “Ly, it’ll be fine. Nothing will change. And don’t worry about those two.” He points to Sonny and Van while they are currently arguing over who will score the most pussy on tour—after Tom, of course. “Between the two of us, we’ll be able to keep those groupie addicts on the right path.”
“And what about you?” I raise my eyebrow.
He grins. “I can control myself around women, Ly. Give me some credit.”
“Even with the influence of Tom?”
“Even with the influence of Tom. Anyway, if I couldn’t control myself, you, Lyla Summers, are the best cockblock around. You’ve been cockblocking me since high school without even meaning to.”
“Hey!” I elbow him in the ribs. “I am not a cockblock!”
“You’re a cockblock!” Sonny and Van chime in.
“Piss off!” I chuckle.
“Good to hear that laugh again,” Cale says.
“Which laugh?”
“Your real one.”
I laugh all the time, but those are fakes. He’s right. That was the first time in a long time that I’ve laughed for real. It quickly fades. My eyes dip to the floor.
“Did I upset you?” Cale squeezes my shoulder.
I look up, meeting his warm gaze. “No.” I shake my head. “I’m just not looking forward to the tour as much as I was. Tom will probably make groupie night mandatory or something.”
“Doesn’t sound so bad to me.” Cale grins.
“What doesn’t sound so bad?” Van asks.
“Nothing,” I answer quickly, shooting Cale a look.
He starts to laugh.
I shove him on the shoulder. “You’re gross, you know that?”
“Not as gross as Sonny.”
“Who’s not as gross as me?” Sonny asks.
“Van,” Cale deflects.
A moment later, I feel Cale’s finger under my chin. He brings my face toward him. “Ly, don’t worry about Tom. It’s gonna be fine, better than fine. It’s gonna be awesome.”
“Awesome. Sure.” I roll my eyes.
Seriously, what is going to be awesome about touring with the mut of rock, who has hit on me every time I see him?
Nothing—that’s what.
A Few Days Later—Tour Bus, LA
“Can you believe we’re here, Ly?” Cale slings his arm around my shoulders.
I shake my head, taking in my surroundings.
I’m more excited now that we’re here than I have been since I heard who our new manager was. But I’m over that. It’ll be fine. Because we’re here!
Today is the day we set off on tour. And tomorrow night, we’ll be playing Seattle, and I cannot wait!
I’m standing in the galley of the tour bus, and the place is amazing. Beyond amazing.
Laid out before me is a living area, complete with a leather seating area and a TV fixed on the wall. I spy a DVD player and a PlayStation. That should keep the boys entertained. There’s a table attached to the wall with seating around it. The kitchen has a wall-fitted unit with a built-in range and oven, a small refrigerator, and a microwave.
I follow Cale down the hall to where Sonny and Van are, and I see the bathroom on the right. Shower, no bath. I’m going to miss my baths for the next six weeks.
“Four bunks here,” Van says when we reach them. “And a bedroom for when I want to get laid, which will be every night.” He grins.
“Bedroom is Ly’s,” Cale asserts.
Two pairs of unamused eyes stare at him.
“What the hell?” Sonny whines. “I thought that room was going to be our pussy palace.”
Pussy palace? How does he come up with this shit?
“Look, I have no issue with sleeping in a bunk. I’m used to the stinky smell of you all,” I say.
Honestly, I don’t care where I sleep just as long as I’m here, and this is happening.
“I smell like man, and you love me for it.” Sonny wraps his arm around my neck, pulling to him, squashing my face into his rock-hard pecs.
“Love might be pushing it,” I retort, pushing away from him. “More like tolerate.”
“You so love me.” He grins.
“I love you like I love athlete’s foot.” I smirk.
“Children, sorry to interrupt, but are we gonna make a decision on the bed situation?” Van asks.
“Ly should have the bedroom,” Cale reiterates.
“Like I said, I really don’t care where I sleep.” Then, I meet Cale’s firm stare. “But I’d love to have the bedroom,” I backtrack
“You should take the bed, Ly,” Van says from behind me.
I turn, looking at him, and I smile.
He smiles back. Van really does have the best smile. His whole face lights up with it.
“We’ll just find somewhere else to fuck, if not in our bunks,” Van adds.
Such a way with words. What was I saying about his nice smile?
“Well, seeing as though you’re both saying it, now, I’m gonna have to,” Sonny complains. “Ly, you should take the fucking bed.”
“Thanks, Sonny.” I pat his hard chest. “You’re a real gem. How about this? I have the bedroom, and when one of you scores, you can have the room for as long as you need
it, but you have to change the sheets.”
“And this is why I love you.” Sonny presses a kiss on the top of my head.
“Deal.” Van offers me his knuckles, so I fist bump him.
“You’re a softie” Cale says in my ear as I watch Sonny and Van checking out the bedroom.
I shrug. Then, I feel my cell vibrate against my butt. I pull it out. Unknown number. I hesitate, worried. It might be a call I don’t want to take, but then it could be someone calling about the tour. It wouldn’t be Dina or Zane because I already spoke to them earlier. I haven’t spoken to Tom yet. Everything has been arranged through Zane or Dina, so I guess it could be him. I’m not even sure when I’ll see Tom, not that it matters. But he’ll probably fly in tomorrow. People like Tom don’t travel on buses.
“Just gonna take this.” I wave my vibrating cell at Cale.
Decision made, I connect the call as I start walking back through the bus. “Hello?”
“Lyla, it’s Jake.”
That stops me in my tracks.
Of course I’ve spoken to and met Jake before plenty of times, but he’s never called my cell.
“Hi.” Shit. My voice has gone squeaky. I clear my throat. “Is everything okay?”
“You tell me.”
My stomach drops.
“Rally Brochstein—he’s your father.” It’s not a question. Jake knows.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
My hand starts to sweat around my phone.
I quickly make my way off the bus and practically run down the side to the back, putting distance between me and the people loading up the tour buses.
You see, there’s something about my father that I haven’t been totally upfront about with Jake or Zane or anyone at TMS Records. I tend to keep who my father is and who my mother was private. People treat me differently when they find out who my parents are. Especially my father. He’s kind of a big deal in the music business.
Okay, he’s a huge deal.
And he and Jake don’t get along.
Rally Brochstein, owner of Rally Records. He’s discovered some of the biggest talents the world has ever seen.
The Mighty Storm is one of them.
Yes, I’m talking about the Rally Records, the label which first signed The Mighty Storm, TMS. The label that TMS walked away from.
Taming the Storm Page 3