“There is too much of me to give, Miss Molly that settling down would be a sin for America.” Brody let out a wicked laugh, then tossed back the reaming alcohol in his glass.
“The future of America has never looked so dull,” Stephanie whispered to me, causing me to laugh uncontrollably. Everyone at the table looked over at me with questioning eyes, but then went back to their conversation when I waved them off. Although the comment was hilarious to Stephanie and me, the rest of the group probably wouldn’t find it as funny. Remembering that these men were just that, and not some famous celebrity that needed someone to lay out their clothes in the morning and made sure they changed their underwear daily.
“How is the studio time going?” Stephanie asked me over the noise at the table.
“I think pretty good. I’m heading in tomorrow to listen to what they have thrown down so far. The last time Brantley and I talked about it, I think they said the sound engineer was done with four tracks or something.” Heading back to work was something that my mind needed. Getting this next record finished for PD would hopefully come before the wedding. This way, the only thing I had to worry about after the honeymoon was getting the first single released, video shot, and then turned over to the PR department to start slinging it on radio airwaves.
“Well, hopefully those idiots are actually working and not just using studio time to dick around.”
Laughing, Stephanie signaled for the bartender to bring us another round. Looking at my half empty glass of whiskey, I cringed at the thought of another drink coming my direction. My stomach still hated me from two nights ago, and a replaying of that night wasn’t exactly how I wanted to end my evening.
Kicking Reid under the table, I gave him a ‘save me look’, and discretely nodded in the direction of my glass on the table. Reid tossed me a puzzled look until the server set down another two glasses in front of Stephanie and I. Sliding the full glass over to his side of the table, Reid nudged Brody and offered him the tall glass of Crown.
“Fuck yeah!” Brody exclaimed loudly, snatching the glass and slamming it down in seconds.
“Idiot,” I muttered, grabbing my half glass and toasting with Stephanie. My stomach turned as I downed the rest of the liquid in my glass, grimacing as it slid down my throat and settled like a rock in my gut.
“About ready to head out?” Reid asked loudly over the commotion at the other end of the table.
“Shots!” Brody shouted suddenly, raising his arms in the air wildly like a chimpanzee on steroids.
“Yeah.” I nodded. Leaning in to tell Stephanie that we were leaving, she pulled an envelope from her purse and told me to give it to Reid when we got home. Raising my eyebrow in question, she dismissed me with a wave of her hand and pulled out her cell phone.
Not giving it too much thought, I tossed the envelope in my purse and stood. Reid got the table’s attention and told everyone goodbye as I waved awkwardly. Slipping my hand into his, Reid led me through the rows of table and out the back doors of the restaurant. Tiny was waiting in the alley, letting us avoid the lines of groupies and photographers outside the front of the place.
“I’m glad to see you walking on your own tonight,” Tiny jabbed while opening the back door of the SUV.
“Asshole,” I jeered. Reid let out a light hearted laughed and pulled the door closed behind him. Of course he would find my intoxication funny after we had talked about it. Tossing my purse in the seat next to me, I buckled my seatbelt and scowled at the both of them. “I really want a Dilly Bar.”
“Drunken cravings, nice,” Tiny announced from the front seat while adjusting the mirror. “Dairy Queen, Molls?”
“Unless you can magically make one appear out of thin air?”
“Oooh, getting a little snippy.” Reid’s hot breath whispered in my ear, sending a hot flash down my body in a matter of seconds. I was only two drinks in for the evening, but for some reason, my inhibitions had apparently stayed back at the restaurant with the rest of Reid’s drunken band mates. Sliding my hand down the side of Reid’s thigh, I firmly cupped his crotch through the lose denim jeans.
“Maybe.” My words rolled off my lips as I placed soft kisses to the side of his neck. I couldn’t help but smile when a groan escaped from Reid’s mouth. Unclipping my seatbelt, I kicked my feet up on the back seat, knocking my purse and its contents on to the floor. Not caring that the back seat was now littered with the contents of my entire bag, I climbed on top of Reid’s lap and settled in firmly over his rock hard dick.
Reid’s hands fisted into my hair, bringing me closer to his lips, until we crashed into one another. Bracing myself on the top of the backseat, I pushed harder into him, grinding my hips slowly on top of his lap.
“Can you guys at least wait until we place our order? It’s really awkward trying to order ice cream with the two of you going at it in the back seat.” Tiny’s voice sounded amused at our little risqué car action.
“Sorry,” I muttered, releasing Reid’s bottom lip from between my teeth and sheepishly climbing off his lap. Settling back into my seat, I smoothed out my shirt and buckled the seatbelt back up, while Reid adjusted the tension in his pants.
“This isn’t over,” he stated, smoothing his hands across the five o’clock shadow on his face.
Grinning, I clapped my hands excitedly. “Hurry, Tiny. I need ice cream stat!”
Chapter 12
Sunshine, blue skies, and a little cocaine to make it rain.
“Molly, your shit is all over the back seat of the Burb!” Tiny hollered from downstairs. I had completely forgot that my purse fell over in the car last night, and in the midst of eating the delicious Dilly Bar, and wanting to get Reid naked, I left everything in the car besides my cell phone.
“Sorry, I’ll be down in just a second.” Poking my head around the door frame, I offered an oops kind of look to Reid, who was lying in the bed reading something on his tablet. I was already running a little late for the studio after Reid refused to let me out of bed when the alarm went off.
Running the flat iron over my hair a couple more times, I smeared a light colored lip gloss over my lips, then grabbed my black leather cuff off the sink counter.
“You are not a good influence in the morning, Mr. Chambers.” Stuffing my feet into a pair of black flats, I threw open my side of his closet and rifled through the hanging clothes until I found my white zip up hoodie.
“You could have said no,” Reid remarked lazily, letting a naughty smirk roll across his face. He knew damn well I wouldn’t have said no to his advances after feeling his hard, thick member pressing up against my girly bits.
“If I get fired, I’m blaming you.” Zipping up the hoodie, I shook my head and blew a kiss into the air at him.
“If you get fired, I’ll hire you.”
“What? As your personal sex slave? I’m not a hooker, Reid.”
“I love you too,” Reid said with a laugh. Being romantic was not exactly Reid’s forte, but if it had sex, music, hookers, or beer that man was always on point.
Gripping the rail, I bounded down the steps and into the entry way. “Tiny, I need the keys.”
“I’m not your maid service, Molly,” Tiny proclaimed, holding out my purse in one hand.
“Have I told you how much I love you lately?” Standing on my tiptoes, I managed to place a soft kiss to the side of Tiny’s cheek while grabbing my bag from his outstretched hand.
“I pulled your car out of the garage so you didn’t scrape the shit out of the side pulling out. Oh, and do you want me to give this to Reid? It was on the floor with all your crap, too?” Tiny flashed the sealed envelope to me as I opened the garage door.
Totally forgetting that Stephanie had handed me that last night, I simply nodded my head. “Thanks, Tiny!” I called out as the door slammed shut behind me. I had exactly twenty minutes to get through traffic and somehow magically make it into the studio to be on time. Sadly, I knew it wouldn’t be happening unless my car sprouted win
gs and magically flew over Seattle morning traffic.
Reaching for my phone, I quickly hit the call button for Megan. “Hey, I’m running a few minutes late.” Starting the old girl up, she purred when the key cranked over. Looking up at the sky, I was pleased that, for once, the blue skies were out for my Monday morning commute. Sunshine, blue skies, rock music, and a man waiting at home for me. What more could I possibly want?
***
“Seriously, why can’t I recover like in college? I felt like a flatbed truck caring a load of steers ran me over, and then backed up just to make sure I was dead this weekend.” Megan flopped down on the couch next to me, while I scrolled through some of the song choices the guys had yet to record.
“I didn’t go to college.” I laughed. I’d had my fair share of drunken nights, and Friday night didn’t do me any favors, but at least I felt decent enough to function the rest of the weekend. Sadly, Megan still looked a little green around the edges two days later.
“I remember this one frat party at the KT house, the girls and I drank so much that I didn’t wake up for twenty-four hours straight. It was like nothing happened after that little slumber, and I went right back at it the next weekend. After our little party Friday night, I don’t think I want to see anything that resembles booze in the near, or distant, future.” Megan dropped her head on the back of the leather couch, and let out a little whimper.
Looking up at the sound room, I watched as Brantley and Chance knocked into each other. Why men felt the need to knock into each other when something was good was beyond my comprehension. Like cave men stuck behind glass, I was trapped watching primates beat each other when one liked what the other was producing.
“Do you guys have a rough cut of the song they have been working on this morning?” I asked the sound engineer.
“Troubled Waters?”
“Sure, if that’s the title. I just want to hear the intro that they laid out this morning. For some reason, I can’t get those first sixteen bars out of my head.” Something wasn’t sitting right with their sound. Either one of them was dragging and not putting a hundred percent down, or the song just sucked entirely.
“It’s the drums. Chance is dragging at least a second behind everyone else,” Megan muttered from her weakened state on the couch.
Cocking my head to the side, I signaled for the engineer to play the track. As if the heavens opened and rained down golden kittens, the realization that Chance was behind the issue stuck out like a sore thumb. “You’re totally right, Megan.” Popping up from the couch, I wandered over to the board and hit the intercom button.
“Chance, pick up the pace on the intro. You’re behind everyone else and it sounds choppy.”
“What the fuck, Molly?” Chance blurted out from behind the glass. You would have thought I told him his dick was the size of an eraser by the look he tossed my way.
“I didn’t say it to be mean, Chance. The reason why the intro isn’t working is because you are slightly behind. Tighten up the intro and the sound will flow better.” Shooting an apologetic smile at the sound engineer, I leaned off the button. “What in the hell is his attitude problem?”
“He’s using again, Molly,” Megan interrupted while dragging her body off the couch.
My head spun around to meet Megan’s gaze, and I could tell she wasn’t kidding. “Seriously? What in the fuck is his problem? When he did he start?”
Megan shrugged her shoulders. “I think right after they came off tour. Chance said something about how all the down time was boring, but I didn’t realize what he was doing until the other night. I wanted to say something, but the timing hasn’t exactly been right.”
“You didn’t think the timing was right? Megan, we are just starting to record the sophomore album and have a strung out drummer that can’t keep fucking time. Pretty sure the moment you found out was exactly the time you should have told me!” Grabbing a fist full of hair, I let out a panicked giggle. Of course this was happening.
“I need you guys out here, like now.” Taking a deep breath in, I held it for ten seconds before letting it slowly out. Out of all the times I’d babysat these children, drugs had never been something we actually had to deal with. Sure, we joked about them plenty of times, and I wasn’t naive to think that they didn’t do the occasional joint, but going on benders wasn’t something that would fly with management.
“I’m not doing this bullshit right now, Molly. We have an album to record, and after that we can talk about rehab.” Chance snarled as he walked out the soundproof door. Looking over at Megan, he snorted and turned his attention back to me.
“No, we are not doing this with you fucking strung out Chance. The guys can continue to record, and we’ll find a replacement drummer to keep it going till you get clean and can lay down your tracks the way they should sound. Right now, you sound like shit and I’m not wasting the company’s money while you dick around behind the glass.” My anger was getting the best of me, and I knew we needed to separate before I punched his throat for being a drugged out asshole.
“The hell you are replacing me, Molly! Who do you think you are?” Chance roared as he stormed over to where I was standing.
Squaring my shoulders off, I prepared for impact. “I’m your damn manager, Chance. I really should have realized this a while ago, but that’s my bad. You’re done for the day. Megan, will you take him home and then call some contacts for treatment?” I was not letting this asshole push me around today; he was in the wrong, not me.
“Slow down there, buddy.” Brantley grabbed ahold of Chance’s arm, pulling him back slightly and placing himself between the both of us.
“Are you agreeing with this bullshit, Brantley?”
“You aren’t playing to the best of your ability right now. Just take the day off and we can talk about this later.” Brantley patted Chance shoulder, only adding to the thick tension in the room.
“Get the fuck off me!” he roared, throwing his shoulder back and pushing past Eric and Jeremy for the door. “I’m done with this shit.”
“I got him,” Megan uttered, quickly disappearing behind the door after Chance.
“Merry Christmas.” Jeremy laughed as I gave his a dirty look. Of course he would find this amusing.
“Why didn’t you guys say anything?” Looking around at the remaining three band members, I wondered if the rest of them were partaking in the party favors, too. “Are you guys strung out?”
“Molly, it’s just Chance. The only thing we’ve been doing is drinking, and the last time I did that was Friday night with you.” Both Jeremy and Eric snickered behind Brantley, as I snorted at the comment made.
“Sorry for assuming,” I apologized to the three of them. It was totally unfair of me to assume the worst, when these three weren’t the problem in the studio. “I’m going to step out and call Stephanie. Any thoughts as for a studio drummer till we can get Chance’s issue sorted out? I don’t want to lose recording time for you three when only one member of the group is being a complete idiot.” Grabbing my phone off the switch board, I quickly stepped out the door before panic overtook my body.
Something was going to break. My job was driving me crazy, the wedding was bleeding the life from my very body, and I couldn’t manage to catch a break in any aspect of my life. My irritability was starting to become way more of my personality then I would have liked, and slowly I saw more of my mother coming out in my mannerisms. Something had to give, and I was afraid of which one I’d choose at the moment.
Chapter 13
Baby’s first gift……..a glittered stripper pole. Now that’s saving for college.
Explaining to Stephanie that my band was falling apart at the seams was the easy task. Telling her I had sent Chance home and then had Megan look into rehab facilities didn’t exactly go as I thought it would. Yes, I knew that the business, drugs and alcohol were something that most people didn’t bat an eye at. Rehab wasn’t taken lightly until someone was physically destroying
themselves and or the people around them. And, while I thought Chance’s stupidity was affecting the music, Stephanie did not exactly see it the same way. She claimed the bigger picture, which was getting this album out while their name was still hot on the charts. They could always sub a professional drummer over the tracks that Chance screwed up, and no one besides the sound engineers and the drummer, who would sign a confidentiality agreement, would ever know.
At the end of the conversation, I was wrong in calling out Chance and had to apologize. That phone call to him went about as well as a dead hamster spinning around in an automatic wheel. No matter how many times I said I was sorry, and kept that damn wheel turning, the hamster just flopped around inside. Chance needed rehab before his little issue got out of control, but Stephanie and the others at NP thought it could be worked through, and having outpatient treatment was the direction he should take. Was it right? Oh hell no, but I had to go along with it.
Pulling my car into the garage at Reid’s, I grabbed my purse and slammed the car door.
“I’m sorry, baby,” I cooed to my car when I realized she didn’t deserve her doors being slammed. My day might have been shitty, but she did nothing to add to its crappy ending.
Opening the door, I dropped my bag on the entry way table and wandered down the hallway to the kitchen. Reid was hunched over something on the bar, his body tense and ridged.
“I’m home,” I mentioned as I got closer. Tiny looked up from the other side of the bar and flashed a nervous smile in my direction.
“We need to talk,” Reid said tightly, still not looking up from whatever was in front of him.
My stomach dropped, and my instincts for flight almost took over. After the day in the studio, getting my ass chewed out by Stephanie, the moment I walked in the door the dreaded ‘we need to talk’ line got laid out for me. What gods did I royally piss off, and where was the line to start kissing their ass?
Invisible Crown Page 8