Turning back to Jeff, I tried again, “Favorite bands?”
“No favorites. I’m pretty eclectic in my listening choices.”
Jeez, the conversation is going south fast.
Just when I thought of excusing myself to seek refuge in the bathroom, he had a comeback.
“You? Who are your main music influences?”
Without hesitation I jumped straight in with my artistic heroines. “I loved listening to Motown as a kid, but my main influences have been everyone from Janis Joplin, Pink, and Mariah Carey, all the way back to Aretha Franklin and Barbra Streisand,” I replied with enthusiasm.
Jeff looked thoughtful then nodded, “Hmm,” he hummed, “I can see you’re very eclectic in your listening choices as well.” I was, but unlike him, I contributed my thoughts to the conversation.
Once a common thread was established between us, our communication was much more relaxed. When Otto came back to the table, and the conversation turned to bands they had recorded with in the past, I felt much more confident that Jeff’s earlier remarks weren’t that much of an issue.
I was impressed by the number of artists the small label had supported in the nine years Gravity had been in business. Otto spoke with such passion about them and I was convinced I’d made the right choice to launch my music career with them.
Four hours later, we said our goodnights, and I left the bar and headed home. During the journey, I thought about the album, and songs I was due to record.
Otto was in awe of how Thomas had managed to negotiate the amazing material for me to record. What he didn’t know was Thomas had worked with Gibson and I during the previous few months to scout the most suitable material for me to use.
There were five songs written by other top drawer recording artists—two of my own, and four Gibson and I had collaborated on. These were credited as co-written by Paul Gibson, with any potential royalties going into a trust fund for Melody.
Entering the lobby of my apartment block, the superintendent called me over, handed me some mail and asked me to wait. Handing me a Styrofoam box, I frowned a questioning brow as I opened the envelope with it.
“Congratulations on your first day at work. We figured you’d be feeling pretty tired on your return, so we’ve ordered you dinner.” My heart clenched because although being out on my own was what I had longed for, it struck me I had no one to share my day with.
A lump swelled in my throat and I quickly handed the super a ten-dollar bill in thanks, juggled the box between my body and arm, and made my way up to my apartment with tears brimming in my eyes. Suddenly, the full impact of being out on my own hit me hard and I pulled out my cell phone, swiped the screen, and called home.
“Hey, baby, how was your day?” Gibson asked, and I heard Chloe protesting in the background that she wanted to listen as well. A slow smile curved my lips because I felt loved.
“All right, you’re on speakerphone and Chloe’s right here.” I felt far less lonely for knowing they were only one call away.
My second night of independent living was much like the first. Stiflingly hot and sticky. No matter how high I cranked the air conditioning, I still felt hot. At one point I laid dog tired on the cool tiled floor in my bathroom and tried to sleep.
Eventually, I passed out through sheer exhaustion, and woke around two hours before it was time to get up, so I got into the shower to freshen up. From then on time dragged and my anticipation grew for getting to the studio. Every time I looked at my wristwatch it was only a few minutes from the last look.
I arrived at the studio early, with butterflies in my stomach and a racing heart. Facing the building, I stood staring at the tinted windows, adorned with their cursive writing, as nerves vibrated through every cell in my body.
Sucking in a breath to settle my nerves, I blew it out slowly. This is where the magic happens. I chuckled at the corny line in my head and dug deep to find my confidence. Here goes.
Self-belief was all I had. It was what I had clung to during my darkest days as I grew up in the suppressive and controlling environment Colin had made for us, but now it was time to prove to those who had taken a chance on me that I had what it took to succeed.
Entering the studio foyer, I had to press the intercom and wait for entry to the studio. It wasn’t a big place, but security was tight due to the expensive equipment inside. Seconds after pressing the bell, the door buzzed and I heard it unlock.
As I pushed the door open, Jeff came out of the studio door to meet me.
“Ah, you made it. Ready to blow us away today?” he asked in a friendly tone.
“That’s what I’m hoping,” I said, toying with the shoulder strap of my oversized satchel as I kept my nerves in check.
His eyes held mine and his smile widened showing most of his pearly white teeth. God, he’s so good looking, it's distracting. “After you,” he gestured, sweeping his hand for me to enter before him. My heart fluttered in my chest and it had nothing at all to do with making music.
Suddenly I felt self-conscious and flattered from the slightest attention he’d given to me, but I convinced myself he was only being polite. I wasn’t really used to being around guys apart from a couple in high school.
For the first hour of the day Otto introduced us to Wyatt, the piano player, and we listened to the tunes I had chosen to record. Otto made suggestions, and I learned Jeff and Grunt had been given prior access to familiarize themselves with them before I arrived.
Choosing the first song to record, Otto went with an upbeat number called, “Faces In Unfamiliar Places”, written by an A-list music artist.
The song was about a girl who missed her train and ran into a café out of the rain. She then sees her boyfriend who she thought was out of town, walking with another girl.
Once in the booth, for some reason I felt more nervous and keen to impress my sessional musicians than I was Otto, and my nerves temporarily kicked in as soon as they started to play. However, after two false starts, I found my flow when the familiar music and my words centered me.
Jeff was right, Grunt was an incredible drummer. For someone who looked like he’d blow over in the wind, he had the most incredible speed, strength, and stamina. He also had vision and improvised on the percussion from the original score, producing a sound that took the song to a whole new level of sick.
Obviously, Otto had to run the final arrangement past the artist who penned it, to ensure we were able to use his version, but I was sure they’d admit the number was improved with a few tiny changes.
“Goose bumps, baby,” Jeff mumbled and held out his arm. "The way you sang that made my heart pound. Look at the hair on my arms; your voice is electric,” he said, staring at me like I’d grown a third eye. “You can’t just sing, Piper, you’re fucking fantastic,” he added, looking amazed, then he turned to glance at Grunt. “Am I right, or what? That sound was fucking insane.”
Grunt was soaking wet and was drying the sweat from his hands and drumsticks on a small sports towel when his head snapped up and he stared directly toward me. “Yeah, fucking ace,” he said in a voice to rival Barry White's, a smooth old soul singer from the seventies.
It was the most animated I had seen him, and I grinned. His response probably meant more to me than anything Jeff had said before, because until that moment I’d never heard him say more than, 'Got a gig', in a monotone when he’d left the day before.
From that point on my nerves subsided, my voice loosened up as I relaxed, and by the end of the day we had a pretty perfect track of the first song for the album.
Otto informed me the first few tracks usually took a long time to nail because of the differences in interpretation, the musicians connecting with someone they weren’t used to jamming with, and vocal pitch imperfections.
Time passed too fast and before I knew it, it was time for us to pack in for the day. It was fortunate that another band had the studio time because if that hadn’t been the case, I’d have pushed myself harder
and probably ruined my tone through straining my vocal chords.
I was almost at my car when I heard Jeff call out for me, and I turned to see him kicking the dirt on his way over to talk to me.
“Heading out to a house party for a few hours R&R. Want to come with? I could introduce you to a great crowd and you can maybe make a few friends since you’re new in town.”
My initial reaction was no. I didn’t know him from a hole in the wall. Then again, he was now one of the team and I wondered if I’d appear standoffish if I didn’t at least accept his hand in friendship.
“Sounds nice, but I’ll follow you in my car because I’m still trying to find my way around and I’m dependent on my trusted satellite navigation to get me home safely.” Really it was my way of ensuring I had a get-out strategy if he took me somewhere I wasn’t that comfortable with.
Jeff looked thoughtful as he narrowed his eyes. He looked disappointed for a moment, but fortunately he didn’t push the point.
Apart from my issues of trusting men, he rode a huge flashy motorbike. There was no way I felt I could have coped with the intimacy of clinging onto his back with my arms wrapped around him and my legs next to his.
“Suit yourself. I just have to make a quick stop along the way,” he advised me as he cocked his leg over his machine and sat back on the wide leather seat with a spongy bounce. Kicking the bike stand away with his heel, he took the heavy weight underneath him and held the handlebars.
My eyes fell on his tanned outstretched muscular arms and I sighed. He looked like every girl’s fantasy and could easily have passed for a movie star. The shiny bike only made him look more appealing.
My greedy gaze followed his every move and when he glanced up and flashed me a dimpled smile, I exhaled in a rush. With my heart fluttering in my chest, I clenched my thighs together because he was undoubtedly one of the most alluring men I’d seen since… whenever.
Stealing another glance, I admired the image he struck as a smoking-hot-looking guy with an immensely power-packed set of wheels between his muscle-toned legs. With its shiny chrome exhaust and trim, and black metallic body, it was a stunning piece of expensive machinery.
Normally I’d have said a motorbike like that was a ‘babe magnet’, but I doubted very much if Jeff had any need for such an accessory to pull women toward him.
Women aside, of course he’d have a ride like that. It suited him down to the ground.
Perhaps he had wealthy parents and with that kind of financial freedom he was happy to live a much simpler life than the one I had envisioned for myself? Maybe I was hasty in judging Jeff’s honesty. I wondered if perhaps he felt he already had it all anyway.
An amused smile stretched my lips as I imagined what Gibson’s caveman reaction would be had I acted irresponsibly and taken a ride from a relative stranger on his motorcycle. Gibson didn’t have to worry on that score. I was as naturally guarded with my personal safety as he was.
In the past, Chloe had warned me about how I’d either have difficulty mistrusting men or trusting them too easily in the hope of feeling secure after the experiences I’d had, and this made me mindful of how alert I wanted to be in regards to this advice.
Sometimes I wondered if there would ever come a time when I would manage to shake my suspicious thoughts about relationships.
I'd half expected Jeff to protest at my caution regarding the transport but he didn’t bat an eyelid when I insisted on taking my own wheels. Shrugging his shoulders, he asked me to follow him and took off down the street.
Chapter Four
On first impressions, I was less eager to meet his friends when Jeff drove me down a number of backstreets a few blocks from the studio.
With each block we traveled, the properties and general feel of the area became less desirable to hang around in.
When he finally stopped outside a single story property in a slum condition and in desperate need of a lick of paint, I was wary. Luckily, he didn’t ask me to join him inside.
Shaking off the negative vibe the place gave me, I figured it was probably because I had lived in the lap of luxury for the previous two years and told myself it was probably a student rental or something.
Turning off my engine, I watched him climb off his motorbike and sighed again as he wandered over to me.
“Just gotta give some money to a buddy,” he advised me. “Sit tight, I’ll only be a minute,” he added then turned and entered the house.
True to his word, he came out of the house again inside two minutes. When he left the house and headed toward me again, I noted he carried a small backpack.
“Do you mind giving these beers a ride for me?” Eyeing the small gymsack already on his back, I was happy to help.
A few minutes later, we pulled up in front of the tall wrought-iron electric gates of an imposing Tuscany-style mansion enclosed within a woodland estate. Again, I questioned my initial opinion of Jeff and work because it appeared he knew people in high places.
When he spoke into the intercom I heard a low electronic buzz and the gates jolted on their metal hinges before they slowly cracked open.
Waving for me to follow him, he drove around the back of the property where more than twenty vehicles were already parked. My eyes scanned up the walls and over the courtyard of the beautiful Tuscan home.
I stepped out of my car and walked over to Jeff who had already parked and gotten off his bike. He had turned to watch me with his backside lazily perched on his leather seat with one leg crossed over the other.
Conscious of his stare, my heart hammered with excitement when I caught his gaze in mine. He flashed a wicked grin and my knees buckled a little at the sight of it.
Watching him watch me made me anxious, and I felt so ill-prepared. Had I done the right thing agreeing to go with him? How did that make me look? What if he kissed me? What if he wanted more? Oh, Lord. Stop it. You’re reading into something that isn’t there.
As soon as I was close enough, he reached out and grabbed me by the hand. The effect of his touch on me was electric.
“Come on,” he urged and turned, leading me down a pathway at the side of house. The way he held my hand firmly and tugged me behind him, anyone would have thought he had known me for years.
“What is this place? Who lives here?” I asked as he led me around a corner and toward a covered walkway. “Paradise”, Coldplay’s song, belted out at high volume and eventually we came to a set of smaller iron gates.
“Just a guy I’ve worked for a ton of times,” He informed me, eyeing me. Then he smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry, he’ll love you,” he offered as if to reduce my uncertainty, before guiding me down a final walkway covered with overhanging lilac Wisteria and into a large outdoor quadrangle.
Most of the area had been designed for entertaining, with specific sections boasting a cocktail bar with bar staff, a temptingly inviting tiled swimming pool with three mosaic dolphins embedded at its center, and enough patio seating to put a beach-side café to shame.
My greedy eyes scanned the glamorous setting as beautiful people mingled around against the perfect backdrop bathed in rich aqua lighting, and my heart fluttered excitedly.
Everything was so new to me and once I had taken in the lively music and raucous laughter, I felt a different kind of excitement about my future, one possibly full of fun with friends.
“Know where Benton is?” Jeff asked a heavily set guy when he stopped at the third set of patio furniture nearest the sliders to the house.
“Kitchen,” he replied, hardly giving him a second glance. Instead of going inside as I had expected, Jeff led me over to few young girls in bathing suits.
“Evening, ladies. This is my new friend, Piper,” he beamed. “She’s very new in town and doesn’t know anyone. Do me a favor and keep her company. I need to catch up with Benton for a few minutes.”
Piling on the charm, he winked, and the prettiest of the three girls rose to her feet. Without hesitating she stepped in to
hug him and I figured Jeff was obviously close to her because his hands had immediately grasped at her waist and he kissed her softly on the mouth. “Hello, baby,” he smiled again.
“When are we actually going to spend time together?” she asked, pouted and struck a seductive pose. She sifted her fingers through her hair after she pulled it to one side. Jeff obviously couldn’t resist her exposed neck and leaned in to kiss it. The girl giggled and glanced back at him with hooded eyes.
“Soon, baby, soon… I promise, Miranda,” he cooed, and I watched as he wrapped her around his little finger with one sentence before he stepped away and turned his attention to me. Even though I had gone there with him as friends his action toward her had made me feel slightly embarrassed.
“Give me ten minutes. I won’t be long,” he told me and winked as he walked away. He held Miranda’s hand until she almost toppled over then she let him go.
The awkwardness of the situation made me feel like I shouldn’t have been there. Feeling like Jeff had put me in this difficult situation, I diverted my gaze to a couple playing noisily in the pool with a beach ball as I tried to shake off the uneasy feeling about being abandoned with them.
My eyes flitted from Miranda to her friends and they all stared back at me like I was naked. Has Jeff brought me here to make a point with Miranda? From the interaction between them. It was clear she was far more interested in Jeff than he was in her.
Usually it took a great deal to rile me, but his rude behavior toward me left me feeling out of place and annoyed. If this is how he treats girls, I’m surprised they hang around him at all.
“What does friend mean?”
I glanced back at Miranda, who had asked me the question.
“You mean am I anything more? The answer is no. He’s one of the sessional musicians on the album I’m cutting.”
Piper: A Last Score Spin Off Page 4