Tommy picked up on Angel’s showmanship and it refueled him. He bounced around and taunted Damien with the guitar, who countered by pointing the head of his bass at Tommy like a shot gun.
No one beat the hell out of a set of drums like Jimmy Wilder. It wasn’t forced or exaggerated. It was just natural high octane overflowing with confidence and it filled the small studio with energy. It triggered Tommy’s creative drive and renewed his strength to play. He introduced an unexpected guitar solo at the end of the second verse. He played the game. He dropped to his knees and leaned back on the heels of his feet. He raised the guitar to the ceiling and wailed on chords for an indeterminate amount of time.
Angus actually raised an eyebrow.
They continued with the bridge, repeated the chorus and wrapped up the song. Angel was about to throw his microphone down in his usual act of rebellion, but thought better of it. Tommy stifled a small laugh. Not only did Angel ruin more microphones that way, but mishandling the equipment wasn’t exactly the way to impress an ill-tempered studio executive.
Angus took a long drag of his cigarette, which was smoked down to the filter, and snubbed it out in the ashtray. It got uncomfortably quiet while they waited for Angus’ feedback. He looked up from the ashtray and spoke directly to Angel in a calm, even voice. “You have to do better than that, mate. Every song needs to be a money maker. That was just a spectacle.”
Angel was more defensive than disappointed. “We worked hard on these songs. Granted, they could use a little more work, but I think they’re damn good. Especially, Toxic.”
“Don’t get uptight. Save the act for the stage. I came here for a listen, not a show. Concentrate on tidying up the songs. We need to get something on a CD.” He shooed his hand at them. “Carry on. Back to work.”
Angus slipped out the door without another word.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Another day alone in the hotel room was pushing Jessi over the brink of boredom and into the realm of loneliness. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. She was stuck to fend for herself while Tommy and Angel made music together. She knew they were working. She knew it wasn’t a choice, but that didn’t stop the bitterness from nagging at her heart. She tried to stave it off, but it kept making an ugly reappearance.
She decided to call Rachel, her store manager, to get her mind off Tommy and Angel’s newly-strengthened bond.
“We might have a problem with the head dressmaker,” Rachel said.
Jessi’s heart sank. “What happened now?”
“I heard her on the phone ordering pink silk fabric to use as the lining for your garments.”
Everyone knew Jessi Blade’s garments were lined with a hot pink leopard print. “Why was she ordering the wrong fabric?”
“She said it was cheaper.”
“I know it’s cheaper, but hot pink leopard is my signature lining!” It was one problem after another and Jessi started to question the feasibility of running a successful business 6,000 miles away, especially in its infancy. Timing never seemed to be on her side.
“I’m handling it, Jessi. If there’s anything that requires your attention, I won’t hesitate to call you.” Rachel sounded confident and instilled a sense of trust in her ability as manager.
Jessi was still apprehensive after she ended the call, but she reminded herself that Rachel came at Ricardo Garcia’s personal recommendation for the job.
The rustling of the door handle made her forget the problems at the store. Tommy and Angel were back from their writing session. “Did you write a hit song?”
Tommy shook his head. “We’re still working on it, but I think we all need a rest. This new guy is pushing us too hard.”
She watched his face as he placed his guitar on the couch and shed his jacket. His face was drawn, without much of a smile, and he looked drained. “Are you feeling OK? You’re not getting sick are you?”
“I’m just stressed out. Everyone’s looking for me to write these killer guitar solos that are going to blow away anything I’ve done before. It’s a lot of pressure. I feel like I’m being pulled in a million directions.” He rubbed his eyes and combed his fingers through his hair. “I just need a half hour nap, and then we can spend the rest of the night together. I think it’s still early enough to go to those gardens and shopping like we were supposed to. I know we haven’t spent a lot of time together these last few weeks, Jessi. It’s hard to write while on the road.”
“I’m going to call Mr. Abelman,” Angel said. “He needs to call off this tyrant.”
“No, don’t make trouble with the label. We’ll finish the album and when the tour is over, we’ll go on a nice long vacation.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The Save a Youth Gala, held in Munich’s Olympia Park, was sponsored by several large record companies and producers, including Falcon Records, and benefited homeless youth and suicide prevention. It was a red carpet event with a star studded VIP reception that preceded a four hour concert performed by internationally acclaimed bands. Immortal Angel was the headliner.
When they arrived at Olympiahalle, the paparazzi flooded the velvet ropes, snapping enough photographs to create a strobe light effect with their flashbulbs. They were escorted toward a backdrop with the Save a Youth logo to pose for photos.
An arm dropped in front of Jessi like a guillotine and separated her from Tommy and the band. The security guard said something to her in German that she didn’t understand.
“Excuse me?”
“The red carpet is for performers only,” the security guard replied in a heavy German accent. “No outsiders.”
She was miffed and snorted. “I’m not an outsider. That’s my husband. I work for Falcon Records.” It was the reference as an “outsider” that irked Jessi, not that she wasn’t allowed on the red carpet.
The guard ignored her and scanned the crowd for any signs of trouble.
Jessi waited while the paparazzi took dozens of photos. It was a lightshow of yellow and white lightning. Someone with an earpiece and a clip board gestured to the photographers that it was enough, and hustled Immortal Angel off the red carpet to make room for the next arrival.
Jessi had to hurry to catch up to them, and she wasn’t allowed to set foot on the precious red carpet. She had to navigate around the swarming paparazzi. It was a nightmare. At some point, she didn’t know when, she got separated from Alyssa and hoped her friend made it inside.
A stray photographer pursued Jessi as she entered the venue. She smiled and waved while he took her photo.
He followed her. “How is the tour going? What city is Immortal Angel headed to next?” Although everyone spoke English, he was obviously American.
“Very busy,” she answered over her shoulder. She continued to walk at a quickened pace. “And we’re off to Amsterdam tomorrow.”
He was persistent and trailed after her. “Can you tell us about the new album? How many songs has the band recorded so far?”
She smiled at the photographer without offering a response. There wasn’t a public statement from the label about the new album, only speculation from the fans and the media. He was trying to pry information out of her. “I’m sorry. I can’t answer that.”
He continued to follow her and stuff the microphone in her face. She had to dodge out of its way because she was walking so fast, it almost hit her in the jaw. It was the first time the paparazzi annoyed her.
He was relentless and tried to grab her attention with an onslaught of personal questions, most of which she ignored. “How does it feel to be reunited with Tommy and Angel after being separated for so long? What was it like being away from each other? Did it change your relationship?”
Each question irritated her more than the last. He was purposely being an ass, and it took all of her willpower not to hurl four letter words at him.
The questions continued. “Do you think Tommy and Angel were glad you stayed home so they could spend time alone? They’re closer. Everyone ca
n see it. They bumped you out of that red carpet photo just now. How did that make you feel?”
She stopped dead. She didn’t care if she was late or missed the entire performance. This photographer hit a raw and festering nerve. She spun around to face him. “No one bumped me out of a photo, except maybe that PR rep running the red carpet.” She didn’t know why she felt she needed to explain or defend herself, but she grew more heated as each second ticked by. “I chose to stay home to open my business. Both Tommy and Angel wanted me with them. How dare you insinuate – ”
“Mrs. Blade needs to get backstage.” Marissa grabbed Jessi’s arm and pulled her away from the photographer. “Don’t listen to him. He was baiting you into giving him something he could turn into a juicy piece of gossip.”
Jessi knew that, but his accusations were hateful and he was trying to sabotage her marriage. She reflected on his questions and wondered if a small part of them were true. Some of the headlines from the photos in her scrapbook flashed in her head. While The Mrs. Is Away, The Boys Will Play and No Wife, Happy Life. Her stomach turned just thinking about it. She wondered if he was the same photographer, and he wanted to stir up trouble. But what vendetta would he have against her? Maybe it really did look like Tommy and Angel were pushing her out of the relationship, and the photographer was simply pointing out the truth.
Marissa went off with Angus, and Jessi went to the green room. She expected to find the band waiting for their set time, but the room was empty. They were obviously at an interview, or mingling with some of the celebrities without her. The headlines from the newspaper photos, the evil insinuations from the photographer, the lonely nights while Tommy spent all his time with Angel, all churned inside her head. She screwed her face into a nasty frown and threw her clutch at the wall.
“What the fuck did you do that for?” Alyssa picked up Jessi’s handbag and handed it to her.
“Because I got sidelined by some asshole paparazzi, and he pissed me off, and then when I got here everyone was gone. Where is everybody?”
“They’re coming. They stopped to talk to one of the other bands. I saw you get swallowed up by that crowd. I wasn’t about to get in the middle of that herd, so I took the long way around to the back entrance. That’s where I ran into the guys.”
Tommy and Angel entered the room, followed by Damien and Jimmy. They were huddled together talking, and didn’t bother to acknowledge that she was in the room. She probably could have been gone the entire night and they wouldn’t have noticed.
Angel broke away from their little circle to charge his iPad. He bent over and plugged it into an outlet a few feet away from Jessi. “Did you hear? We’re collaborating with Kostbar. They’re big fans of ours and want to join us on stage when we perform Cyanide Sensation. Can you believe that? One of the top rock bands from Hamburg is fans of Immortal Angel!”
He didn’t mention anything about her fifteen minute disappearance. He probably thought she was with them the entire time. “Did you notice that they wouldn’t let me on the red carpet? Were you aware that I had to fend for myself though the crowd of paparazzi? Did you even notice that I wasn’t with you and Tommy?” It came out harsher than she intended, but she couldn’t help it. She was pissed off.
“Of course I knew you weren’t with us, but I was blinded by flashbulbs out there. I didn’t know where you went.” He raised his upper lip and squinted at her. “What the fuck, Jessi?”
With a spring in his step, Tommy joined them, unaware that she just snapped at Angel, again. “What happened to you, hon? I turned around and you and Alyssa were gone.”
“I got ambushed by the paparazzi. One in particular.”
“Are you alright? Did they push you?” Tommy showed concern and he was worried about her. He searched her face and read her eyes.
“I’m OK. I guess. I’m just pissed off that we got separated.” It was hard to let go of the bullshit the paparazzi stuck in her head. His remarks and the innuendoes behind those newspaper clippings planted a venomous seed inside her. She wished she never made that damn scrapbook.
Jessi watched the band’s performance from the side of the stage just like she always did, only there was a gnawing inside her. She scrutinized the interaction between Tommy and Angel on stage. The chemistry they shared is what propelled the band into stardom. They fed off one another. It was hard to imagine that these two didn’t play together their entire lives.
“What was Immortal Angel like before Tommy joined the band?” she asked Alyssa, without averting her eyes from their performance.
“Nothing like this. They were good and had a strong fan base, but they didn’t shine the way they do now.”
“What do you mean?”
“They always had talent, but when Tommy came along, they came alive. Especially Angel. His performances were always colorful, but . . . he’s having fun out there. Look at them!”
Jessi was looking at them. Tommy and Angel flirted and postured. They leaned their shoulders into one another, performed with their backs pressed together. It was a show within a show. But once they locked eyes, it felt like no one else was in the room. The building could have been on fire and they wouldn’t have noticed. They played and sang to each other – for each other. It was those moments that made their individual talent excel and brought the house down. The screams from the crowd were deafening and their stomping feet shook the building.
Angel must have felt her gaze because he glanced at her, then looked back at her with an exaggerated stare. His voice didn’t react, but his face scrunched up with annoyance. That’s when she realized she was glaring at him with narrowed eyes and her mouth pressed into a thin straight line.
Jessi woke the next morning to the sound of room service. The metal cart clinked glasses and utensils together as it wheeled its way into the room. Muffled voices asked for autographs and a photo. Tommy and Angel chatted for a minute or two with the hotel staff before she heard the door open and close.
“Breakfast, hon!” Tommy called from the other room. “Hurry up. We gotta go.”
Go? It took Jessi a second to remember that the band was off to the studio again today. She should have known by now that they wouldn’t be spending the day together. They barely spent the evening together and they were in the same room.
The charity gala was all about the celebrities and the performers. She understood that they were monopolizing the talent in order to raise money, but almost every second before and after the band performed was spent giving an interview or socializing. Jessi spent most of the evening with Alyssa, and trying to avoid that nasty photographer. The paparazzi weren’t allowed in the VIP area, but she saw him behind the velvet rope. He tried to entice her by shouting more ugly comments, but she refused to listen to him or look in his direction. He had said enough and she was having a hard time digesting the hate that he had fed her.
“Are you still sleeping?” Tommy was in the doorway. His hair was messy and he still wore his sweatpants.
She flipped the covers back and sat on the edge of the bed. “When do you have to leave?”
“In about ten minutes. We all overslept.”
She followed him back to the table. It was covered with sausages, cheese, seeded crusty rolls, jelly and Nutella, juice and strong coffee. She lifted the silver dome off of her plate and uncovered an omelet.
“I ordered breakfast,” Angel said, between mouthfuls. “I hope you like it.”
He was so sweet and thoughtful, especially since he’s been back from Asia, but her head was still in the wrong place and she questioned his motives.
So much had changed since they returned from Asia. Besides the obvious distance Angus drove between them by herding Tommy and Angel off to the studio every free moment, the connection between Tommy and Angel was magnified. She didn’t realize the extent of it until that damn paparazzi pointed it out.
“I need to get dressed before the car gets here.” Tommy took a piece of toast and pushed his chair back. He stopped and t
urned to Jessi. “You look mad.”
That fucking scowl wouldn’t leave her face. “I’m not mad. I just wish we could spend some time together.”
“Me too.” He looked at the time on his phone, but he didn’t make any attempt to leave the table. He squatted next to her and rested his hand on her knee. “I know you’re upset that I got stuck doing all those interviews last night, and we barely got to see each other. I thought it was going to be fun, and it turned out to be work.”
“And now you’re running off again.” With Angel. She absentmindedly glared at Angel for a split second before she realized it. She didn’t think Tommy caught it, because he was looking down, but Angel reacted immediately by stiffening his shoulders and glowering back at her.
Tommy rubbed her leg. “I’ll make it up to you tonight. We’ll go out to a nice quiet dinner. Just the three of us. We’ll spend the whole night together.”
She placed her hand on the back of his neck and forced a small smile. She knew he was trying to find a way to keep her happy and still abide by Angus’ demands. It was unfair – to all of them. She nodded at him. “That sounds wonderful, baby.”
He kissed the palm of her hand and went in the other room to change his clothes.
Jessi was stuck at the table alone with Angel in an uncomfortable silence. She wanted to address the issues that were eating away at her, and she knew he wanted to do the same, but there was no time. In a few minutes Tommy and Angel would be on their way to the studio to spend another day together without her.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Between a Rock and a Hard Place Page 16