Ted? I sent after a few moments of pure angst that stretched way too long. You there?
No response.
I thought maybe his Wi-Fi cut out, so I told myself to chill, he’d be back.
Soon.
Anytime now.
But then he wasn’t. I told myself it was nothing. Just a technical glitch. But then I suddenly felt like a parent when I began to panic. I envisioned the Zen Garden bus crashed in a ditch at the side of the road, bodies strewn about in what was a real life horror film—one I never wanted to watch.
I pinged him again, but nothing.
In desperation, I sent Eddie a text, preparing to not get a response, telling myself that if he didn’t respond right away, it probably didn’t mean anything. After all, it was practically the middle of the night, and he’d be sleeping. Still, I had to try: everything okay?
It wasn’t long before I got his reply. Ya, wassup?
Now that I knew they weren’t in a ditch, I had to come up with something that wouldn’t let on that Ted and I had been flirt-texting. Pretty much nonstop. For days.
I was just talking about Portland with Ted and he disappeared, I sent, trying to sound like it was band business and not desperate wannabe girlfriend paranoia.
Really. Eddie sent. It was weird that what probably should have been a question wasn’t. But maybe he wasn’t good with grammar. Or he couldn’t find the question mark. There could be a million reasons why he hadn’t made that a question and it just sounded like sarcasm in my head.
Yes. Just making sure you guys didn’t have a crash or something.
No crash. Brb.
Then he disappeared. What the...? At least this time, I wasn’t worried about crashes, but I did wonder what was happening on their bus.
Ted finally sent a message back: I <3 you, Sandy! xoxxoxoxo Can’t wait 2 c u next week! Kisses! Yee haw ride ‘em cowgirl!!! And then there were a million kissy and heart emojis.
At first, my heart lurched at that because: wow. But then I realized how ridiculously juvenile and non-Ted-like it sounded. Something was definitely going on, and I didn’t like not being a part of it. I sort of wanted to call but was afraid of waking people up at...I glanced at the time on my phone: three-forty-seven a.m.
EDDIE! I texted the lead singer in yelly caps. WHAT IS GOING ON? WHERE IS TED?
It was a long time before I finally got a response. Wrestling with Pete for his phone back. :P
I barked out a laugh before I even realized I had made a noise, then quickly rolled so my face was smothered by my pillow because: hi-lar-i-ous. Poor Ted. Although the evil girl inside of me still thought it was funny, especially as I could imagine the guys wrestling over Ted’s phone.
Figuring I wasn’t going to get a response anytime soon, I was about to put my cell away when a new message came in from Ted. But when it was just a bunch of random letters and numbers, I realized the wrestling was probably still going on.
I waited a few more minutes, forcing my eyes to stay open as long as I possibly could. When I woke myself up with a snore, I glanced at the screen, but nothing more had come in, so while I had a shred of brain power left, I turned off the Wi-Fi, put my phone down and went to sleep.
When I woke up and turned on my Wi-Fi, I saw the following from Ted, sent about twenty minutes after the garbled one had come across: please ignore messages above. PETE stole my phone. So sorry!
Aw, I sent back. Here I thought you were REALLY into me.
I expected him to still be sleeping, but I got a response almost immediately. I am. I just don’t like using all those dumb emogi things.
Oh. Well.
So that was cool.
Day Off
I loved being with the band, probably more than anyone who wasn’t actually on the payroll or dating a member had any right to. But even I had to admit, after five grueling days of practically sunup to well beyond sundown, we all needed a day off. Badly. And while mine started with stuffing almost every piece of clothing I had with me into a garbage bag so I could go to a local laundromat with Kiki and Nessa, I was still thankful for time away from the band and my responsibilities. And for the break from being on the bus, because it was starting to get funky. And I’m not talking eighties vibe funky, but like, locker room after a big sweaty game in July funky.
Not only did I need to get away from the smell, but I also needed to unplug and unwind. So much so that, while it made me twitch a little, I left all my electronic devices behind on the bus so I could get off the grid for a few hours. Of course, the second we pulled away from the hotel parking lot in the town car we’d commissioned for the day, I regretted it. I had the urge to beg the driver to turn back so I could grab my phone, but I knew that would make me an obsessed freak, so I pressed my lips together on the plea and looked out the side window instead.
Anyway, I told myself, unplugging was a good thing—Nessa had totally done it since Andy had declared to the world over social media that she was his girlfriend. Of course that had blown up in her face in a bad way and had been the reason for their breakup, but in the end, she was better off. And despite how busy she was, she had been a lot more chill since stepping back from her devices.
I couldn’t afford to totally unplug, but a half a day away wouldn’t hurt. Big picture. Or so I kept telling myself.
A couple of hours later, after some girl bonding: mindless catching up on reality shows, and hard-core caffeinating as we did our laundry, we returned to the bus. We greeted the boys as they passed by on their way to the town car for their turn at the laundromat, loaded down with their own bags of clothes. It was barely more than a wave and a greeting, making me think maybe they were on board with the time away from each other thing, too.
After Kiki, Nessa, and I put our stuff away, they left and went into the hotel to check in and get all the keys for everyone (we’d have the day to relax and spend in the hotel, napping and using the facilities while Gary slept between long driving stints), leaving me to quickly check on the band’s social media.
I was sitting at the table in the kitchenette and had just forced myself to shut down the laptop when Tony came out from the back office and up to me, a weird look on his face.
I’d gotten to know Nessa’s dad pretty well, both as her father and, more recently, as the producer for the band, but I hadn’t seen this look on him before. However, I’d seen the same look on my own father’s face (once or twice) and recognized it as a conflicted, concerned dad face. Nessa didn’t give Tony much reason to worry, so that was why it seemed so foreign on him.
“What’s wrong?” I asked immediately.
He sighed and slid into the bench seat across from me, freaking me out when he didn’t immediately say nothing was wrong.
“Tony? What’s going on? What’s happened?” I’d just checked social media, the guys had just left, and Kiki and Nessa were inside the hotel, so what could it be? I started to worry about the crew. Had someone been injured? Had there been an accident? No, if that was the case, he would have called everyone together for some kind of announcement.
Finally, after what felt like long minutes, but was really only seconds, he sighed and said, “I know you and Max have a...complicated...relationship...”
I snorted at that. I might have felt weird about the fact that Tony knew Max and I didn’t get along, except that neither of us had kept it a very good secret. I tolerated him because I had to in order to stay on tour, but I knew he hated my guts. It didn’t escape me that if he made enough noise about me, he could probably get me kicked off tour or at the very least, the good bus (the crew bus was nowhere near as nice), so I guess I was supposed to be thankful he hadn’t. Yet.
“I wouldn’t exactly call it a relationship.”
“I understand,” he said. “Still, I’d ask you to give him a pass today.”
I almost got mad because Max was the one who was the surly jerk and if I was ever a bitch to him (actually, when is probably more accurate), it was because he deserved it. It�
��s not like I went out of my way to come at him; it was only ever in response to how he treated me. But then I realized if Tony was asking, he had to have a good reason. He’d never been unreasonable about anything, least of all putting up with attitude.
“Why? And why today?”
Tony took a deep breath and said, “We’re near his hometown, and he might go visit his family. He hadn’t yet decided when they left just now, but he’s feeling raw this morning. Not that he said as much, but...” he shrugged, not needing to finish his sentence.
“Oh, okay,” I said, thinking that Max always seemed a bit raw, so if it was enough that Tony felt he needed to mention it to me, he had to be really twisted up. “I understand.”
And I did, because while I didn’t like Max and his crap attitude about the world (and me), I was well aware that much of it had to do with the fact that his girlfriend had died in a tragic car accident only a few months before. An accident that Max blamed himself for because he’d been driving and they’d been out celebrating the news that Tony had invited him to join the band. Max hadn’t been legally responsible; the other driver had been drunk and had broadsided the car, but he still felt like he was to blame and it was obvious that it was tearing him up inside. He hadn’t even wanted to come on tour, but his family had sort of forced him into it, telling him his girlfriend would have wanted him to.
Tony rubbed his hands over his face. “I wish he’d let me get him a shrink, you know? He’s a great musician, but it’s hard enough staying grounded on tour without all that he’s got going on in his head.”
I was actually surprised they had let him on tour without some mandatory counseling, but before I could think to suggest it, Tony continued.
“Anyway,” he said, straightening his spine. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but he’s vulnerable, especially today, and I just wanted to make sure you understood if he’s more...abrasive than normal and not to ride him on it.”
“I get it,” I said. “Thanks for the heads up.” Because if Max started on me, I would get after him, so yeah, it was a good thing Tony’d said something. I glanced out the tinted window toward the hotel. “Did you tell Nessa, too?”
“Not yet, but I should. I’ll send her a text,” he said. “You two are headed out on your special job for me soon, aren’t you?”
Right. Special job, whatever that was. This secret errand that he was sending us on was some sort of mystery that he wouldn’t tell us about. But the twinkle in his eye told me that either we were going to love it, or he was going to have some (likely harmless—Nessa was his daughter after all) fun at our expense.
Whatever it was, I didn’t much care. As long as I didn’t have to haul any equipment or spend hours cutting video on a stinky bus, I was in.
“Yes,” I said. “Once they get back and the town car returns after dropping the boys off, we’ll go. Sure you don’t want to tell me what it is?”
He got up and gave my shoulder a squeeze on his way past. “I’m sure. I’m going to head inside and take a very long soak in the hotel’s hot tub. Have a great day, Sandy.”
The way he said it made me think the way he was talking about this special job was some sort of scam and that he had something really nice planned for Nessa and me.
God knows, we deserved something really nice. Particularly Nessa who had been working like a dog with almost no break, especially as she’d immersed herself in work after Andy had completely ruined things between them. Which was just as well since, as I now realized, she could do way better; he had fallen off his pedestal, in my mind and definitely in Nessa’s, if she’d ever had him on one, that is.
Not that Andy wasn’t a great guy, just that, well, I was learning that not all rock stars are perfect. Not by a long shot. I actually felt guilty that Nessa had tried to warn me of that fact, but I was too stupid and stubborn, dazzled in my fangirldom, to listen. Now, after she’d gotten caught up in it and Andres had messed up so completely, she’d become a cautionary tale—why choosing the rock star to date very carefully is so important. Even if it’s just a fling. Maybe especially if it’s just a fling. Because no one wants to end up being known as a rock star’s castoff. Least of all Nessa, who never wanted a part of the life at all.
I cringed as I thought about how I was at least partially responsible for getting her wrapped up in all of this. I owed her for that and for my gig on tour. Big time. And my payment for all she’d done for me? Making sure she and Will became a thing. Yeah, he was a rock star now, but the least rock starry of all of them—humble and sweet and really, he was even a student at Westwood.
But making them a couple was going to be tricky. I had to do it so that she thought it was her idea. It was sort of rotten, but I needed to totally manipulate her into realizing Will was the guy for her. Now that Andy was out of the way, it was so obvious she and Will were made for each other. I was embarrassed that I hadn’t seen it sooner.
Though with her puritanical attitude, Nessa was not making things easy. Not to mention that all work and no play was making Nessa a dull girl. And despite all my references to the chemistry I supposedly had with Will, she wasn’t biting. By now she was supposed to have pushed me out of the way so she could claim him for herself. Why did my bestie have to be the one girl in the world who was not only clueless but obviously not the jealous type?
There was no getting around it; after our day off, I was going to have to step up my game to move things along.
Health Benefits of Saunas. Right.
Fate was on my side that night.
After intense female bonding, thanks to Tony’s ‘special job,’ which was a ruse to surprise Nessa and me with a much-needed day of pampering, we headed down to the hotel pool to grab a soak before we were due back on the bus.
I swear I had no idea Will was in the sauna, but when we walked in, and I saw him sitting in there, practically naked (okay, so he was wearing board shorts, but his chest was bare, showing off his six pack and nice, masculine, ripe for massaging, broad shoulders) I saw an opportunity.
Not one to ever let opportunities pass me by, I said, “I’ll get us some towels,” and then left them alone, hoping that this was the nudge they needed. I knew that Nessa was serious about not hooking up on tour and after that whole thing with Andy, I understood why. I believed she meant it and respected that, but she wasn’t going to be on tour forever. Plus, Will was totally into her and I didn’t want her to miss out.
Throwing them together in the spa was what I call laying groundwork.
I laughed out loud when I thought of how the suit she’d borrowed from me barely covered her boobs. Will didn’t stand a chance. Oh, Nessa, I thought, knowing she was going to make me pay for that. I am so sorry-not-sorry.
Which meant I took an extra-long time to get those towels, and, in the end, basically pulled the sauna door open, threw one at her, and then slammed it closed on them. I ducked away from the little window in the door and reset the timer.
You are an evil genius, T-bow, I told myself, using Darren’s nickname for me that I kind of liked.
Feeling rather proud of that maneuver, I rewarded myself with a good long soak in the hot tub, my thoughts drifting from my best friend and the relationship I was practically handing her, to Max and the kind of day he had to be having. I hated myself a little for thinking about him, but even I had to admit that he had to be suffering and no matter how surly he was, no one deserved what he’d gone through—was still going through.
When I’d checked my phone earlier, Tony had confirmed that Max had gone home to see his family and I wondered if that included a trip to his girlfriend’s grave. Even in the hot tub, I fought off a shiver, just thinking about how horrible it would be to lose your soul mate.
Not that Max had ever referred to her as such, but the way he acted, he had to have thought of her that way. I’d never been in love, but it was obvious he had been, and a part of himself must have died in that accident along with her.
Shaking off the somber
thoughts, I distracted myself by writing social media copy in my head as I waited for Nessa and Will to come out of the sauna.
Every minute they were in there made me even more sure they were going to end up together. Maybe they were even making out in there. Although, if Nessa really thought I was into him, she wouldn’t. Plus, I guess there was that whole, self-imposed, ‘not dating a musician (especially on tour)’ rule.
Whatever. I actually hoped they were in there kissing; she deserved it and who was I going to tell? Not her dad, that’s for sure. And we wouldn’t be on tour long. Linda, the real tour manager, would be back soon, which meant Nessa and I would jet back to the Hamptons for the rest of the summer whether I wanted to or not (I did not).
Which meant there wasn’t enough time for a new relationship to go nuclear; the thing with Andy had been doomed from the start. A fact Nessa had known from the second she stepped foot on the bus. She’d tried to put the brakes on, but Andy was too immature to be able to handle it.
But Will was different. And you know what they say, where there’s a Will...
They emerged a little while later not looking like any debauchery had gone on in there, but at the same time, when they handed me some sort of ridiculous story about how they’d been talking about the health benefits of saunas, I knew something had transpired.
I actually had to close my eyes and pinch my thigh really hard under the water to keep from laughing at them, the two worst liars in the history of secret teen dating. But whatever had happened in there, my plan was working, so that’s all that mattered.
I couldn’t resist adding a bit of fuel to the flame, so I gave her a song and dance about how overwhelmingly hot he'd looked in the sauna, and that was why I’d bailed on her.
She responded by telling me I needed to get over my crush on him. Bam! That’s when I knew she wanted him for herself.
Happy to back off, I was finally able to tell her about my new crush. That hat-wearing, horseback-riding, yee-haw-inducing cowboy that was currently putting the giddy up in my saddle.
Working for the Band Page 4