by Amity Cross
“Okay, got it,” the stylist said, moving forward, and Georgie let me go. Sweet, sweet freedom.
It went like that for much of the shoot. To my annoyance, Georgie only seemed to have eyes for me and not Frank as she took it upon herself to arrange us just so. Even the photographer seemed to be annoyed at her, but at least she got results. We only had a couple of hours before we had to leave for sound check, and she whipped everyone into top gear. Every other photo shoot we’d been on had lasted the best part of a day, and this was a whirlwind compared to those.
“No, no, no!” Georgie walked toward us, waving her hands like some kind of banshee. “This isn’t working. Where’s the stylist? Zoe, darling, come here.”
Zoe squeezed my hand as she was pulled across the studio, her eyes betraying the fact she was trying to hold back laughter.
“We need to change her outfit,” Georgie was saying to the flustered woman who was styling the shoot.
The photographer sighed dramatically. “Okay, everyone. Take a break.”
Sagging my shoulders in relief, I walked straight over to the pot of instant coffee that was set up on a wonky trestle table and filled a Styrofoam cup right to the brim.
“You know Georgie is making sexy eyes at you?” Simone whispered in my ear.
I groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
“Do I need to do something?” She was my friend, but she was still our manager and had a duty to look out for us professionally. There was no need to get worked up about it. We would be done with the face-to-face tomorrow, but Jessie was also included in that equation, and I wasn’t ready to be done with her.
“No. She’ll be gone tomorrow.”
“That’s pretty blatant sexual harassment.”
I snorted. Dobbing in the over-enthusiastic marketing manager? There goes my manhood.
“Don’t sound so enthused.”
I raised my eyebrows at her.
“You and…” she began, but I clapped a hand over her mouth.
“Nothing happened,” I said. “Keep your lips zipped, S.”
Peeling my hand away, she laughed. “Okay, but keep an eye on the cougar. She’s on the prowl.”
“I don’t know if I should be flattered or scared shitless,” I replied. “Why doesn’t she go after Frank?”
“Because he’s an acquired taste.” Simone winked and took a few steps backward. “Eyes on the prize, Cosgrove.”
Rolling my eyes, I waved her off, then downed my cup of lukewarm coffee and made a face. Caffeine was caffeine.
“Okay,” Georgie yelled, clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Places!”
The photographer went nuts after that, flashing bulbs and elbowing Georgie out of the way when she got too close. All in all, it was about fifteen minutes, and we were done. We had all had enough of Georgie, but Georgie didn’t seem to notice. I’d known the woman all of a day, and already, I knew I’d be glad to see the back of her.
They’d dressed us in Calvin Klein-Hugo-GAP-whatever, and the first chance I got, I slipped away to change back into my own stuff. I didn’t care for labels and fashion that much. Of course, I knew image had a lot to do with a band, but shit, our image was nonchalance. Pulling on my own black jeans and boots, I yanked off the shirt and T-shirt the stylist had given me and reached for my own. That was when the door opened.
Turning around, I expected to see Chris or Frank, but my mind instantly cursed on my behalf. Shit, fuck, ass.
“I’d hoped I would get a chance to talk to you alone before the concert tonight,” Georgie said, slinking over to me.
I had no shirt on, and suddenly, I felt my skin prickle. Not in a good way, either. As I went to pull on my T-shirt, she slid her fingers around my wrists, stopping me.
“Georgie…”
“How about it?” she asked, her hands moving across my skin to my waist. “We’ve got time.”
Yeah, maybe I should’ve been more assertive the night before instead of getting Jessie to save me. If I’d been less of a pussy, then maybe I wouldn’t be in this situation right now.
Grabbing her wrists, I pried her hands from around my waist. “Not gonna happen.”
“Are you sure?” she purred, and I had to stop myself from visibly cringing. Women like her, who thought they could win over every guy with sex, turned me off.
“Positive.” I let her go, pulled my T-shirt on, and grabbed my jacket from the back of the chair.
“It’s Jessie, isn’t it?” she scoffed. “You want to fuck her, don’t you?”
The way she said her name fueled my annoyance into an inferno. She’d said it like she was some kind of pathetic ant she wanted to squash under her boot. She didn’t seem to think much of her intern, who seemed to put up with a lot of shit if her behavior right now was anything to go by.
“Never touch me again,” I hissed and walked out, slamming the door behind me. I was seriously riled up. That woman was psycho.
Even if Jessie weren’t in the picture, I would never go there. I’d never done meaningless in my life, and I wasn’t about to start because of a little bit of fame. Replace Georgie with Jessie, and you had my fantasies becoming a reality. Her hands could wander wherever the hell they wanted.
We had to be at sound check in an hour, and all I wanted to do was get there so I could see her. I didn’t know what the hell I was going to do since it was probably the last chance I’d get, but I had to do something.
That night, our gig was slated in at Troubadour, which was meant to be some iconic rock venue that had seen everyone from Prince to Guns ’n’ Roses and unknowns in between, but all I had been thinking about all day was you know who. After the shenanigans at the photo shoot, all I could think about was trying to get her talking to me again. For Jessie to be able to put up with Georgie the bitch and have the demeanor she’d had thus far, she must be something else.
Last night at the club, the few words we’d exchanged had been more meaningful than anything Georgie had spouted. Then she’d just walked away mid-conversation. That was weird, wasn’t it? Yeah, it was weird. I didn’t even say anything stalker-ish. Not really.
Troubadour had a great vibe, and it was exactly my kind of venue. The crowd could squash right up against the side of the stage, and it was small. I mean, a fair amount of people could cram inside, and no doubt, the place would be an oven in five seconds flat, but it was perfect. I should have been excited. I was excited. I was amped so much Zoe kept giving me looks as we helped bring our gear inside. I knew I wasn’t myself, but what could I do about it? Knowing there was an imminent encounter with Jessie, screwed with my head. Maybe once I got on stage, things would even out.
Hauling gear occupied my hands, and it was probably the only thing keeping me together. I bet if Georgie found us helping the crew, she’d blow an artery, but it was how we did things. We started out with nothing and would probably never forget it. Making it big, for me, wasn’t ever about the money, though it was nice. Making it was about playing for as many people as I could, and I knew the guys were the same. Getting a deal didn’t mean we had to turn into self-important assholes. That and I didn’t like anyone touching my guitar.
Standing on stage as the techs set up our gear, I wrapped an arm around Zoe’s waist and said, “No more singin’ in the shower, Zo Zo.”
“I think we’re well past that,” she said with a chuckle.
“Miles past it.”
“Feeling better?”
I gave her a squeeze. “Now I’m standing here, yeah.”
She bumped against me with a grin and put a hand over my heart. “Love you, Dee Dee.”
“At least somebody does.” I winked, earning myself a slap on the arm.
A high-pitched wolf whistle split the close air of the venue, making us look up. “Hands off my girlfriend!”
Zoe’s face split into a grin as she laid eyes on Will and promptly jumped off the stage and jogged over to meet him. He was standing with Simone and Jessie, and realizing she’d final
ly shown up, my heart did this little somersault in my chest. I locked my gaze onto her. What I wouldn’t give to walk over there, slide my arms around her waist, and pull her in…
“Stop slobbering, mate.”
I looked around at Frank, who was giving me a knowing grin. “Shut up.”
“Seriously, you gotta calm down a little.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “Focus.” He had a point.
“I don’t know how he did it.”
“Who?”
“Will.”
Frank tilted his head to the side. “Did what?”
“Dealt with being around Zo every day for weeks and not being able to have her.”
“Man, the disease is spreading.” He laughed, holding his hands out in mock defense. “Three out of four members of The Devil’s Tattoo are pussy whipped. Get that shit away from me.”
I rolled my eyes and shoved him playfully. “Better crack out the antibacterial wipes, dip shit.”
He shoved me back, laughing. “Hey, maybe it’s my turn next.”
The sound guy, who’d introduced himself as Matt, came up behind us and said, “We’re ready for you guys.”
Nodding, I whistled at Zoe, waving her over. My vision crossed Jessie’s, and her expression fell, and I wasn’t sure what I should feel about that. I just…I just needed to focus.
With the house lights up, it wasn’t the same as playing a show, but it calmed my nerves, anyway. We played through the first single we put out, ‘Walls,’ and then through ‘Red Heart.’ I was seriously hoping we’d have a good reception to that one because I wanted it to be the first American single. Not just because I wrote it but because it was everything the band was about.
Despite being in the one place I was most comfortable, I couldn’t look up the entire time knowing that Jessie was standing out in the middle of the empty room, listening to us. I just couldn’t do it. I found myself wondering if this was how Zoe had felt that day when we’d first played a sound check in front of The Stabs. I wanted to ask her about it, but I couldn’t talk to her about this. She was my best friend, but the thought of confiding in her was a little embarrassing. After all, I’d always been the strong one. I wasn’t willing to give that up so easily.
When we came off, Jessie was standing at the side of the stage, and Georgie was back in the wings talking on her phone a mile a minute. I stopped in front of Jessie, guitar in hand, and said, “I missed you at the photo shoot today.” I clamped my mouth closed, realizing what I’d just said. Missed her as in miss missed her. It was the truth, but that was way too fast.
She laughed at the look of horror on my face.
“That’s not exactly what I meant…” I began.
“Don’t worry about it.” She waved her hand at me like she didn’t care. “Georgie sent me on some errands. I wasn’t really needed, anyway.”
“Oh.”
“How’d it go? With you know?”
I knew she was referring to Georgie’s ‘hands on’ approach, and I grimaced. “What can I say?”
“Yeah, she had a bitch to me about it already.” When she saw the frown on my face, she added, “Don’t worry. Nothing will come of it. She’ll move on pretty quickly.”
Actually, I was more worried about what Georgie said to her than anything else. Before I could figure out what to say, the sound tech tapped me on the shoulder. “Doors in five.”
That meant, get off the stage, so I walked forward and placed a hand on the small of Jessie’s back to direct her into the wings, and I was positive I felt her shudder. The thought made every single part of me hot…and more than a little hard.
“You guys were great just then,” she said as if she was trying to draw my attention elsewhere.
“Thanks,” I replied, letting my hand fall away.
We stood outside the band room, both of us hunching awkwardly. Was it the same for her, or was she just trying to find a way to discourage me?
“If you don’t need anything, I had better go find Georgie,” she said, crossing her arms over her stomach. Definitely nervous but I couldn’t pinpoint the cause.
I was too chicken shit to come out and ask her the one thing I wanted, so I said, “Nah, go for it,” and elbowed my way into the band room to leave my guitar. As the door closed behind me, I let out a long sigh, running a hand through my hair. Time was running out, and I was pissing in the ocean.
After the gig. Yeah, I’d ask her after the gig.
When the house lights went down and The Devil’s Tattoo went on, it was like I’d come alive again. Music, being with my mates, and just being in the moment, filled my veins with life, and it was better than any drug. I was a natural performer—I belonged there.
We probably played better than we ever had that night. Song after song went by with deafening applause, and we were back. I was back. Every time I would kneel beside the stage, some chick would cop a feel. Hands would grab at my legs, and normally, I’d relish in it, but I only wanted one woman’s hands on me.
I snuck glances toward the side of the stage, knowing Jessie was standing there watching us. If anyone else was there with her, I didn’t notice. A few times, I caught her eye and grinned, finding the fact her gaze was on me incredibly hot. I hoped her pretty brown eyes didn’t leave me for a second.
When we left the stage the first time before our encore, I brushed past her and said, “Having a good time?”
She glanced up with a giddy smile and nodded. I didn’t have time to ponder that as we went back out and played our last two songs—‘Red Heart’ and ‘Bombard.’ Zoe was up on Frank’s drum kit going at it hard, and when she went to jump back down, I caught her in my arms and spun her around.
“This is the fuckin’ dream,” I murmured in her ear, and she laughed, our guitars smashing together, sending out a burst of distortion.
“Amen!” she yelled at the top of her lungs as Chris and Frank milked the applause. I was already dying to read the reviews that would be out after that performance.
Once we’d come down a little from our stage highs and the gear was taken care of, we all ventured out into the crowd, much to Georgie’s horror. The line that separated the band from everyone else only existed in her high and mighty head. Talking to people afterward was one of the things that set us apart. Everyone was on our level, and that was the way we wanted it to stay.
As I wandered through the crowd, I was stopped every so often and asked for a photo or a question about our album. I didn’t mind in the slightest, and it was actually kinda cool being in America and all. Cracking a new territory wide open. People seemed to be excited to see us play, and that was great for the band and did wonders for the state I’d worked myself up into while recording.
When I passed Zoe talking enthusiastically to a throng of male admirers, I laughed as Will stood by fuming. She’d come so far in such a short amount of time, and I was so fucking proud of her. Who’d have thought my little meek and mild Zo Zo would’ve turned out like this?
Finally making it near the bar, I stopped mid-stride when I caught sight of a familiar mousy blonde head in among the crowd. Jessie was standing there on her own, looking at the bright screen of her phone, oblivious to the noise around her. I’d never had the chance to just stand there and look at her. To take her in. She hadn’t noticed me behind her, so I let my gaze wander to all the places I’d fantasized about at night. The curve of her neck, her full lips, her perfect ass. I wondered what she would taste like.
Shaking my head, I brought myself back to reality. Now was my chance, and I was missing it by ogling her ass? I would ask her out right then. If she said yes, then cue the confetti. If she said no, then she would leave for New York, and I could start getting over this insane attraction.
“Hey,” I said loudly so she could hear me over the music. She glanced up into my eyes like she could see right through me, and it took my breath away.
“Hey.”
“When are you going back to New York?” I asked.
Her eyes wid
ened. “Um, we’re sticking around for a few days.” She shrugged. “Label stuff.”
“Oh, you’re still working?”
“Yeah, for a couple of days, anyway.”
“What are you doing tomorrow night?”
“Oh, um…” She seemed to hesitate, and I already had a vision of the amount of alcohol I would be consuming post-rejection.
It was all or nothing. “If you’re free, can I take you out? I mean, we could…” I took a deep breath. “Do you want to have dinner with me?” So. Fucking. Awkward.
She seemed taken aback for a moment, like it wasn’t already glaringly obvious I had a hard-on for her.
“It’s okay.” I shrugged when she was silent for too long. “Don’t know if you don’t ask.” I tried not to let the disappointment show and took a step back, formulating a drink order for when I got to the bar.
“Okay,” she blurted, and my heart sputtered.
“Okay?” I asked in surprise.
She nodded. “Okay.”
And right then, I think I just fucking died.
Chapter 6
Jessie
By the time I crawled back to the hotel, it was nearly three a.m.
It blew me away how friendly The Devil’s Tattoo were. Bands at their level usually didn’t mix after concerts, and it was strange to see them all wandering around in the crowd, talking to people, shaking hands, and taking photos. They didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. Some bands had this untouchable thing about them, and they had that, but it didn’t seem to change who they were or make them forget their roots. They had to be one of the most sincere and appreciative bands I’d worked with, and that was saying a lot. I didn’t know if it was an Australian thing but damn. They had a huge future ahead of them whatever they chose to do.
There was no doubt Dee was talented, but I couldn’t help but notice the moment he walked out onto that stage, the crowd in front of his mic suddenly morphed to one hundred percent female. He had a habit of kneeling right at the edge, and without a barrier, it afforded greedy hands a chance to cop a feel. Every single time he got up close and personal, playing some moody, distorted riff, wandering hands would travel up his leg, and this strange sensation would churn in my gut. I suppose it was jealousy, but the green-eyed monster had no place since he wasn’t mine.