“You’re right,” Andrew said quietly. “I’ll call you back once I have some.”
I wouldn’t be holding my breath for that call, but it was much more than I expected. “Thank you, Andrew. It’s been a pleasure.”
“Holy fucking shit.” Devon’s mouth was still wide open, but the corners of it were turning up in a smile. “I cannot believe you just did that.”
“Me neither, to be honest.” I was shaking. Adrenaline had fueled that phone call. “I think Andrew’s concerned about his job, too. I mean, he really should have hung up on me.”
“What did he say?”
“At first, he tried to dismiss me, then he thought I wanted my job back. He sort of apologized for not being able to give it to me. Then he said he’d get me answers. I don’t know if it was just his way of getting me off the phone, or if he’ll actually do it.”
Devon climbed over to me, and I rolled over on my back. He held himself up above my body. “You have some big brass balls, anybody ever tell you that?”
I fought my smile and glanced down his body. “So do you.”
After we got sidetracked, I started to doubt myself. “Do you think the guys will be pissed I did that?” I could already hear Frankie saying something that would cut me at the knees.
“Maybe.” Devon sat up and put his shirt back on. “They need you, Abby. What the fuck is with that website? And the shows? If they are pissed, they need to get over it.”
Devon got out of bed to go find food. Since we weren’t at my house, he’d probably succeed. I stayed in bed. Like when Devon played with Mo and Frankie, doing something band related had felt damn good, but I knew that feeling couldn’t last.
We all had to decide if we were together or separate, no matter what American Original had to say. This was the time to take a stand.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Frankie reacted as I thought he would. Andrew actually got back to me with answers, and it had been incredibly hard to keep my mouth shut until this meeting. We were going to Skype with Andrew, he couldn’t make it down from New York this time. “The band isn’t your concern anymore.”
“Don’t talk like that in front of the baby.” I held Gabriella in my arms, rocking her back and forth. I hadn’t put her down since I came to the house. “And someone had to do something.”
Mo put his head back and laughed. “You better watch out, Dev. She looks like she wants one of those.”
I made a face at Mo. “No.” I tapped Gabriella’s nose, talking to her more than anyone else. “But she’s sure fun to visit.”
Like I could take care of a baby. I’d have to breast feed until the kid went to college because I never had any food in the house.
“Dude, you’re so screwed.” Mo got up and slapped Devon on the back.
“Come on, Mo, you know Abby will make a good mother,” Eli chimed in, and I jumped. We’d been at a semi-truce since that night at The Apple Barrel, but we weren’t at the teasing stage. It wasn’t a place I wanted to be with him. This was all business.
“They just want me to have a baby so I’ll leave them alone,” I said to Gabriella like the rest of them weren’t even there. At least she liked having all my attention. “Not gonna happen.”
Before anyone had a chance to come at me with a turkey baster, Andrew called in on Skype. I was glad to have the baby in my lap to disguise my shaking as bouncing. The room was fell silent after the greetings; the guys were just as anxious about this as I was.
“Sorry I couldn’t come down to meet with you in person. I think you’ll understand why after the meeting.” Andrew swallowed hard. He had a piece of paper in his hand. “I was going to read you this statement, but you guys deserve better than some canned bullshit.” Eyebrows raised all over the room. Andrew didn’t usually stray far from the company line.
“You already know everything that Ashley Meyers claimed was true. There’s substantial evidence that The Spotlight has been fixed from the start,” Andrew continued, putting the piece of paper aside. “The Spotlight, Ashley’s show, and American Original Records are all divisions of the same parent company. The lawsuits are coming in fast, from the family of the woman that Ashley murdered, as well as from past contestants. The parent company has decided to settle all of them out of court, and admit guilt for anything they were responsible for.”
The guys all had questions, but no one was sure what to ask. Eli looked as dumbfounded as the rest of them, and I wondered how much he’d already known. Andrew had prepped me before the call so I had the answers for them, and I held my breath, because the guys were going to need all the oxygen.
“American Original won’t be taking on any new projects.” Andrew’s face fell. The news wasn’t any better for him. No new projects meant he was out of a job. “And there won’t be any money to promote existing projects.”
“So what does that mean?” Frankie asked. “Is our album still coming out?”
“Yes. But your contract with American Original is considered satisfied. The label will not be able to exercise the option on the last two albums.” Andrew looked off-screen, not even wanting to make remote eye contact.
Everyone in the room gasped. “Can they even do that?” Mo asked.
I nodded. “Subsequent projects are almost always optioned. That way, the label isn’t on the hook if the project tanks.”
“I’m sure you have questions, and Abby will be able to answer them for you.” No one was paying attention to Andrew anymore, all eyes in the room were on me. I continued bouncing Gabriella on my knee, and smiled sheepishly at no one. “I really believe in you guys, and I hope I can work with you again in the future.”
“You knew about this?” Devon was already up off his seat and in front of me. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
He wasn’t happy. And contractually, this didn’t even concern him. “Why are we talking to you about this?” Frankie picked up where he left off. “Why can’t you just leave well enough alone?”
I handed Gabriella to Caleb, because she was picking up on my discomfort. And I knew this was going to get uglier before we were done. “This scandal would have happened whether I was with the band or not. You have absolutely no representation with the label now. There is no label. They don’t have to explain anything to you, because they don’t exist anymore.”
The guys let the reality set in, because Andrew, even unemployed, still had been much more diplomatic than I had been. “So what does this mean for us, Abby?” Mo asked.
I sat and tried to calm down. My heart raced so fast I thought it might explode. “It means the record is coming out. You’re going to be totally responsible for promoting it and supporting it with live shows. That means financially as well as getting out there.”
“Will we get paid for it?” Frankie still had his arms crossed, but he had pulled back from attack mode.
“If you earn out more than what was spent creating it, yes.” It was more complicated than that, but I had made sure I got an answer for that from Andrew. “More importantly, it means that you are free of any contractual decisions the label made. You guys are in total control. You decide the future of the band.”
Devon’s eyes lit up, once he realized what I’d said.
“So we can have Dev back.” Caleb said it out loud.
“If that’s what you all think is best, yes.” I scanned the room, my heart finally slowing down. “You make all the decisions about the line-up.”
“Which also means you don’t have to keep me,” Eli said quietly, the only one not smiling in the room. My heart broke for him. No matter what had happened between us, I knew how it felt to want something. He had to be questioning everything about his career right now. “I understand if that’s what you decide.”
Everyone in the room was on information overload. No one knew what to say or do. “Can I add my two cents?” I asked. Frankie raised an eyebrow and I almost lost my nerve. My unspoken opinion on Eli was a complete wildcard. I’d deal with Frankie l
ater. “People really like you, Eli. I don’t know how much of that is going to change with the news. When you played that first show with the band at The Jezebel, people were there for you. And what people have said online echoes that. I think you make this band better.” I paused. “As a guitar player.”
Finally, Eli’s expression echoed the rest of the room.
“I’m going to go see if Nikki needs any help with anything,” I continued. “You guys have a lot to talk about.”
Devon grabbed my hand as I walked by him, stopping me. “I think you should stay.” He looked around the room. “Am I back in the fucking band, or what?”
“Yeah.” Frankie got up and slapped his free hand. “Was it even a question?”
“What about Eli?” Mo raised his eyebrows. Eli looked like he was going to pass out.
The guys, Caleb, Devon, all nodded. “Abby’s right,” Caleb said. “You do make us better.”
“Does that mean everything is as it was?” Frankie asked. “We just have two bad ass guitarists and a fucking awesome album to promote now?”
That’s exactly what it meant. Slowly, this was becoming a celebration. They might not have been in the place they expected to be right now, but I think that out of this whole awful ordeal, Sinister Riot would be the only ones to benefit.
“What about Abby?” Devon asked, his arm now around me. I’d tried to leave again, but he wouldn’t let me.
“Of course she’s our manager.” Frankie held out his hand to me. When I took it, he wrapped me in a hug.
“Sorry I’ve been such an asshole,” he whispered in my hair. I accepted the olive branch. He picked his head back up. “She’s been the only one looking out for us all along.”
We had so much work to do.
Devon still had shows scheduled. The next one after the collapse of American Original was on the album’s release day. I’d hesitated when I booked it originally because I thought it would confuse people, but now it was perfect. Our plan was to go forth as scheduled. Devon had never been forthcoming about his split from the band, and the press on the band in my absence was shaky at best. The band decided to let everyone think this was just another acoustic show with Devon Sinclair from Sinister Riot.
We just had to hope they liked the surprise when the whole band joined him on stage.
It was only going to work once, and we were nervous. I’d had to play a lot of catch up, to get things back to where they were supposed to be on the web and the backlog of email. There was a ton of digging to get information from American Original. Without a paycheck, no one had any motivation to answer me. We also had zero budget to work with. I didn’t need any money to get the website and social media back up and running, but we did need to make sure we had enough merch to sell, and we could get the guys to the out of town shows. This was the only way we were all making money now. The guys had offered to help me, but I refused. I wanted them to spend every minute getting used to playing together again.
We’d spent the last week fixing the past, but we had no idea how people were going to react to Eli tonight. If the fans shunned him, they were just going to have to get over it. If Caleb and I could see that the band was better with him in it, then it had to be true.
“It feels good to be back,” I said to Devon when he joined me as I set up the merch table. “I missed this so much.”
“Tell me about it.” He pecked me on the cheek and grabbed my ass. I bought a new skirt to celebrate the new beginning, a black sequined mini. The texture surprised him, and he moved his hand back and forth. “I wasn’t expecting a scratching post down there.”
“Ha. It’s cute but it keeps catching on everything.” I’d had to detach it from the T-shirts on the table a half dozen times already.
“I have a solution for that.” Devon slapped my ass then picked up a CD. He shook his head. “I knew the cover was going to suck.”
“At least you have a cover.” I took it from him and put it back in the pile on the table. “The next one will be better, I promise.”
Devon frowned. “If there is a next one.”
“Take that shit somewhere else, mister. We’re having a party tonight.” I pretended to be cross with him, crossing my arms and tapping my foot.
He laughed and kissed my forehead. “See you after the show.”
So many familiar faces came out to see Devon, and once the first few got a look at the merch table, something that hadn’t been set up since the last Sinister Riot shows, they knew something special was happening tonight, and the crowd began to swell. People came over and hugged me, asking what was going on. At this point, I had no problem letting people in on the secret. I was getting drunk on their enthusiasm.
Nobody asked about Eli. I took it as a good sign.
A pretty girl in a rockabilly style dress with a flower in her hair kept looking back at me, but hadn’t approached. I wasn’t sure if I knew her. She stood alone, drinking something out of a martini glass. When she caught my eye, she smiled, and I waved her over.
“Your dress is adorable,” I said, trying to place her. I wasn’t having any luck.
“Thanks.” She smoothed the skirt. “I’ve been trying to come over to say hi to you, but you’ve been so busy. I’m Megan.” Still nothing. I felt like an asshole. She held out her hand. “I’m dating Eli.”
“Oh.” I didn’t do a good job of hiding my surprise as I took her hand. “I didn’t know he was seeing anyone.”
She laughed. “It’s only been a couple weeks. He wanted me to come up and meet you, see maybe if you could use a hand.”
“Actually, I wouldn’t mind.” It was already crazy, and it wasn’t going to slow down tonight.
“Oh, cool!” Megan finished her drink and joined me behind the table. “I was hoping you’d say that, I didn’t want to stand by myself all night. Just tell me what to do.”
“It’s easy. CDs are ten, T-shirts are twelve. The mailing list is over here.” I tapped the sheet. “Do not let them leave without signing up for it.” The mailing list would always be my obsession.
“Gotcha.” Megan greeted the next person who came up, sold two CDs and a T-shirt, and got a mailing list sign up. I might have met my new best friend. “This is fun.”
“Have you done any of this before?” I asked. She was a natural.
She shook her head. “No, but I’ve worked at stores before. I’m used to this stuff.”
“Perfect. Sounds like I could learn a thing or two from you.” I liked this girl already. “Have you seen the band before?”
“First time.”
“You’re going to love it. What kind of music are you in to?”
“I like older stuff. Like from the fifties and sixties.” She sounded almost apologetic and I had to hold myself back from hugging her. “Eli says you’re an amazing manager.”
“He does?” I should have probably sounded less surprised. If he wanted Megan to talk to me, I’d assume he’d be honest with her about our past. “Well, Eli makes a mean lasagna. Ask him to make it for you.”
We didn’t have a chance to talk more before the lights went down. The audience clapped in rhythm to She’s Like a Gun like it hadn’t been five months since the last show. I was pretty sure the guys had planned to lead off with it, just in case. Fingers crossed. Everyone came out on stage, one by one, like they always did, but instead of starting the song, they clapped along with the crowd.
“Damn it’s good to be back,” Devon said as he grabbed his microphone. As if they planned it this way, Eli ran his hand down the length of his guitar neck, and they tore through their set with an absolute hunger. They needed this to survive. We hadn’t even realized that we’d all been slowly dying during this whole mess.
There wasn’t a spare stool in the room, so Megan and I maneuvered on to the chair I’d claimed at the beginning of the night. We had to hang on to each other for balance, both wobbly in heels, and my skirt kept catching on hers. I had to keep detaching myself.
“Did you know we
have a new album out today?” Devon asked, and the crowd certainly knew about the album. He pointed straight back to us. “All of you have been watching us, but I’ve been watching the two loveliest ladies in the place dancing on a chair all night. Go back and see them after the show and they will sell you a CD.” Once he had everyone’s attention again, he continued. “The Sinister Riot family grew this summer. Say hello to my friend, Eli Jamison.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, and hung on to Megan. If things were going to go wrong, this was it. This bar was small, and only a handful of people who had an opinion about what had happened with Eli was here, but it was still going to be a damn good indicator of what we were up against.
They still loved him. Megan squeezed my arm, bringing me back to the room. Her expression, pure admiration, was why Eli picked up a guitar in the first place. Screw Jimi Hendrix. “God.” She bit her bottom lip. “I never realized how sexy playing the guitar could be. He looks like—”
I cut her off. “I know, right?”
“I am going to rip his clothes off the minute I get him alone.”
I never imagined the prospect of Eli having sex would ever make me smile again.
Party at Mo’s. Hopefully this one we could get through without any crazy drama. Eli pulled up behind Devon’s car, and instead of waiting for the guys, Megan took me by the arm.
“What the?” Devon called out from behind us as we walked toward the house. “Eli, I guess you’re my date for the night.”
“I’m not holding your hand.” Eli laughed. We looked back over our shoulders. Devon was trying to get Eli to mirror our stance, arms hooked together. “You’re on your own, dude.”
“How long have you been making your own stuff?” Turns out, Megan just started online shop selling dresses she designed. It was no secret how much I loved playing dress up, so I had a lot of questions.
“My grandmother taught me how to sew as soon as she trusted me not to maim myself,” she told me when she stopped giggling at the scene behind us. “I want to keep things small for now, but it would be nice to be able to support myself doing something I love.”
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