They laugh – the bar owners – when I call and book a gig. They ask if I’m joking and I assure them that I’m not. I tell them, repeatedly, that the band is trying a different angle, more family friendly and want to give back to the fans that have made them so popular. Still, I can hear the humor in their voices when they agree to a booking and the small fee is figured out. What they don’t understand is with a bit of advertising they will clean house at the end of the night. 4225 West isn’t asking for a large percentage; they just want to play and want to do it without the bright lights shining in their face.
My phone rings, startling me. I almost spill my coffee when I reach for the handset. My hand steadies the cup before there’s a mess everywhere. I don’t know where all these jitters are coming from… okay, yes I do. I know exactly what or who is setting me on edge. I just choose to ignore it. I can’t focus on my children and career with the distractions that face me daily. I need to get through… I don’t know what. He’s my boss. That’s what I keep telling myself, whether he’s actually the one who signs my check or not. I work for him.
I pick up the phone on the fourth ring, clearing my throat and taking a deep breath before saying hello.
“Is this Katelyn Powell?”
“It is,” I say, pulling my pad of paper closer to me to take notes.
“This is Christa Johnson and I represent an artist known as DeVon. He’s an up-and-coming artist that we recently signed. His debut single releases next month and we’re interested in getting him some attention. I’m calling to see if 4225 West would be willing to work a small tour with him?”
“What type of music? He sounds more hip hop with a name like DeVon.” I write down his name and scribble research next to it. I haven’t heard of him, but that doesn’t mean anything. When it comes to music, I’m pretty much in the clouds.
“You’d think, right? DeVon is actually blues with a rock vibe. It’s very funky with a kick. We think that with the success of 4225 West, DeVon will not only gain some fans, but will learn from the veterans and how they run a tour.”
Veterans? I know I’m not a veteran when it comes to tours, but the guys are. Me? I’m just the person behind the desk trying to find places willing to pay them.
“Do you have venues set up?” This is important. How much work am I going to have to do?
“About fifteen, but we’d like thirty.”
I can arrange the remaining venues. This will be good experience for me. “Where are you looking to tour?”
“Ideally, we’d like to hit the younger crowds, so Miami, New York City, Seattle.”
“And when would you like to start?”
“We’re hoping for August.”
August? One month before school starts. Not that I need to be on tour with the guys, even though Liam will want me there. I’m sure Josie and Noah would go and Harrison would probably take Quinn as well. The guys have a new CD coming out and this would probably be a huge benefit for them. Thirty stops, is that enough?
“What about forty-five days?” I throw that number out there, hoping I’m doing the right thing. Liam has given me full reign to do whatever I see fit, but I still question everything. He rolls his eyes most of the time or tells me to ask Harrison and that’s really not going to happen.
“We can do that.”
“Great.” Christa and I spend the next hour on the phone hashing out the details. I take copious notes and she promises to email the contacts from the venues she’s already booked. We agree that I will take the lead as 4225 West will be the headliner.
I look out my window to see if the red studio light is still on. It’s not. I gather my notepad and pen and head out to the studio. The guys are standing around Tyler, laughing. This is good. This means they’ve recorded something they like and are happy. I like happy.
Liam kisses me on the cheek when I walk up to him. He puts his arm around me, pulling me closer. He’s been like this since he moved back. I’m not complaining. I love him like a brother and he’s been there for us, helping out more than I could ever thank him for.
“Katelyn, did you meet Tyler?” Liam asks as he points to Tyler who nods.
“Yes, Jimmy brought him in to fill out his paperwork. Did you guys get something recorded?”
“No,” Harrison says sharply. I look at him and immediately wish I didn’t. He’s staring at me, or Liam’s hand. I’m not quite sure. Either way, his piercing green eyes are looking at me. His expression is stoic, almost hard.
“Well listen,” I say. Liam drops his arms and moves so he’s standing in front of me, leaving just enough space for the other guys to hear what I’m saying. We’re talking business now; he’s being serious. This Liam sometimes scares me. “I just got off the phone with a manager whose client is releasing a CD. His name is DeVon—”
“Is he a rapper?” Harrison asks, interrupting my spiel. I don’t know why he does that, but it makes me want to slap my hand over his mouth.
I shake my head and continue. “DeVon is a blues artist with a bit of a rock kick. They’re looking to build his fanbase and asked if we’re interested in a tour. I figured with the CD about to come out, we could use the publicity so we’re doing a forty-five-city tour starting in July. You guys will be back in time for the kids to start school.”
“You guys?” Jimmy questions.
“Yes. I’ll stay here.”
“No, you’ll be coming with us.” Liam says. “Book a tour bus. Harrison can help. He has some connections and knows what we’ll want. This will be fun.”
Harrison and I stare at each other. The black beanie that he always wears is mocking my imagination of what his hair looks like. I’ve only seen him without his hat through pictures, never in person. I’m the first one to look away because I can’t take the intense way he looks at me. Or maybe it’s because I can’t take the way I look at him. Or the way I want to know more about him.
Liam kisses me on the cheek before heading upstairs. He declares it’s lunchtime before I have a chance to say anything. Jimmy and Tyler move faster than I’ve ever seen them before, leaving me with Harrison.
“Should we go into your office?”
I look up quickly, expecting him to smile or change his expression, but he doesn’t. I remind myself that this is my job and he has the answers I need to get my job done; and as much as I don’t want to sit in my office with him while he leans over me, it has to be done.
I nod and lead the way. I count the steps to my office and then to my desk; twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two. He pulls out my chair. I make the mistake of looking at him as I sit down. The slight turn of his lip tells me that he’s happy to be here. He beat me into my office and I don’t know how. Was I really walking that slowly?
He pushes in my chair slightly and leans over me. I try not to breathe in his cologne. I don’t want to know what he wears, but he smells good. I lean away, closer to my screen and he leans in too. I wonder if he knows what he’s doing to me. Doesn’t he know I’m trying to avoid him? That we can never be anything?
Harrison tells me what site to bring up and I do. Except my fingers aren’t working and I have to type the web address repeatedly. He moves his fingers over mine. I pull them back instantly, afraid for him to touch me. My hands rest in my lap.
“Sorry, I was just trying to help.”
I nod and realize how stupid I’m being. We can be friends, right?
He brings up the website and walks me through how to order a custom charter. He says that they’ve used this company before and to call and ask for Larry; he’ll make sure we get what we need and in time. I write down what he tells me and he laughs. I turn slightly, but think twice and focus on my paper.
“I think I can take it from here.”
“Katelyn?”
The sound of his voice, the way he says my name, low and sweet with just enough mystery, makes me look up at him causing me to mentally kick myself.
“It’s lunchtime and Linda doesn’t like to leave out food for too
long.”
He’s right. I slide my chair back. He moves one-step back giving me some space. I was hoping I could follow him upstairs, but he doesn’t move or lead the way. He waits for me.
I feel stupid for feeling like this, but it’s too soon after Mason. In fact, nothing will ever happen with Harrison. I know how he feels, but it just can’t. Not only because I love Mason, but because he’s not my type. I would never date a man who is covered in tattoos, wears a beanie and shorts all the time. He’s the quintessential rocker and doesn’t fit my life.
I don’t care that the way he looks at me makes me feel wanted.
I don’t care that the way he looks at me makes me feel desired.
I don’t care that the way he smells makes me want to crawl into his skin until I’m enveloped in his scent.
I don’t care because he’s not Mason.
Pretty Little Lies Page 28