by L A Tavares
I waste no time and head to The Rock Room where I find Natalie behind the bar before I find Kelly.
“Where is she?”
Natalie glares at me with her two different colored eyes and turns away, returning her attention to the draft beer spouts.
I take a seat at the bar and twiddle my thumbs. Someone offers to buy me a drink but Natalie refuses to pour it. Kelly is tough, but Natalie…? Well, I don’t know how Xander has survived this long, if I’m being honest.
I sit for hours and never see Kelly. Natalie comes to my side of the bar and I catch her attention.
“Can you please just tell her I’m here?” I ask Natalie, and she walks away. Damn, the girl is good.
Another bartender walks by and I take a chance on him instead. “Hey, have you seen Kelly Montoy at all?”
He turns, looks at me and says, “Ah, Blake Mathews. Ms. Montoy told me if I talked to you, I’d be fired.” He smiles and I’m annoyed—but impressed as well. She is something extraordinary. “But, between you and me,” he adds, leaning in close, “I don’t think she was even scheduled today. She was never here.”
And now I’m just annoyed.
Fueled by anger and aggravation, I don’t even bother to call a car. It’s almost a direct path from here to home if I don’t detour and take the long way to stop for cigarettes and scratch tickets, which, I do.
The door is unlocked when I enter my house, and Kelly sits on the floor of the living room, painting her toenails an electric red.
“Really?” I ask. “You’re going to tell me to show up to your work then ditch me there?”
She doesn’t look up from her pedicure. “Oh, I’m sorry, Blake. Does it bother you when someone says they are going to be somewhere then never shows up?”
Damn, she’s good. I walked right into that one.
“Kelly, I planned on being there. I did. I even went to the store first to pick up some flowers and a gift.”
“I don’t want things, Blake. I just want the truth. What the hell have you been up to? Ever since your last tour ended, you’ve been sneaking around. Your personality is different. You’re panicky. I mean, even our sex life is—”
“Just fine, thank you very much.”
“Honestly, Blake. Talk to me.”
I sit down on the floor across from her and she plunges the top of the nail polish into the bottle, tightening it and putting it aside. She pulls herself closer to me and takes my hands in her own.
I know she deserves the truth. Even more, I know if I don’t give her something now, she won’t be around long enough to give me a chance later.
“I uhh…I’ve been gambling.” My mouth goes dry. It was easier to say the second time. Rehearsing my confession to Stasia made saying it again simpler. “More than I thought I have, I guess. I mean, I didn’t realize how often I was away from home until lately, when it started interfering with us.”
“How bad is it, Blake?” She widens her eyes with obvious worry and shifts her position as she asks the question.
“It’s not a problem. It started out as fun, and I took it a little too far. I’ll work on it. I can give it up,” I say, but the way my chest tightens and my stomach rolls says that she might believe the words, but I don’t.
“Maybe it’s time you get back in the studio.” She offers the one thing that could truly keep me away from a poker table.
“You’re probably right about that,” I say, hopeful that distracting myself with music is enough to keep myself away from racking up anymore gambling losses.
* * * *
Cooper goes over the new material we’ve submitted and paces back and forth, offering only the occasional ‘hmm-m’ or ‘interesting’ under his breath.
He finally puts the papers down and sits across from us, rubbing his fingers at his jaw.
“I just don’t think it’s different enough from the old stuff,” he says. “There’s nothing here that really stands out from every other album we’ve ever done.”
“What do you propose we change or add?” Theo asks.
“I don’t know. Just something new,” Cooper responds.
Dom drums two pens on the table top and Xander snatches them out of his hands, mid-solo.
“Got any lyrics rolling around in that genius head of yours?” he asks Dom.
“I don’t do lyrics.” Dom steals the pens back and returns to his makeshift beat.
We’re silent for a bit, putting our heads together trying to recreate some of our work-in-progress songs with something new and never heard before, but it’s tough. Besides, my head is still wrapped around how much money I’d lost last night before I’d called it quits.
“You guys can head out for the day,” Cooper says, “but try to find inspiration somewhere. Oh, and Blake…Xander…I saw your little gig in a video online. No more impromptu shows at The Rock Room or anywhere else. Got it?”
“That’s it!” Xander’s eyes brighten as the metaphorical light bulb illuminates.
“How are spontaneous free shows going to help us at all?” Dom adds.
“No, no, the girl. Pull up the video.”
Cooper pulls it up and clicks the volume up to full blast. The sound is incredible. A female vocal does add a whole new dimension to even our oldest, most overdone songs. The harmonies and ranges we could reach by recording with a female would certainly be a promising way to set this album apart from all the others.
“I’m not necessarily happy about this video…but you’re right, Xander. She’s good. Better than you, if I dare say so,” Cooper adds. Xander rolls his eyes but smiles.
“What do we think? Should we audition some female vocalists? See if we can find a fit? I’ll only go for it with the unanimous vote here.”
Theo offers an agreeable nod and Xander is in. Of course he is… It was his idea. Dom, for some reason I don’t understand, hesitates but comes around after some convincing. I can see it from both sides. This could be great—or it could be a disaster. A female vocalist will give us the chance to try something new, but new doesn’t always help. Sometimes too big of a change means losing fans instead of gaining them. It might just be crazy enough to work.
All eyes are on me as I weigh the options until Cooper finally speaks.
“I know it’s a gamble, Blake, but what do you say?”
I nod, thinking of all the good that could come of this and ignoring the possible bad outcomes.
“I’m all in.”
“We can start auditioning right away,” Cooper adds.
“I don’t think that’s going to be necessary,” I say, and all eyes are on me. “Why not just ask Stasia?”
Cooper looks from me to Xander and back again.
“That girl isn’t signed somewhere?” Cooper points to the laptop screen. Xander and I shake our heads. “Let’s see if she’s interested.”
* * * *
A few days later, Xander spins on a stool and Dom and I throw grapes to him as he tries to catch them in his mouth. We get older but we don’t grow up.
“Gentlemen,” Cooper says, walking into the room clapping his hands and demanding our attention, “I come bearing gifts.”
We all look up and eye Cooper, but he is empty-handed.
“I give you Stasia Marquette.”
She waltzes through the door with the Les Paul in one hand.
“Did you say Marquette?” Xander asks, putting two and two together faster than any of the rest of us. I’ve heard the last name before. I know I have.
“Like owner of MLA Records Marquette?” he adds, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I can’t help but think that’s not where I know the name from.
“My father owns it,” she adds, “but we’re not…close.”
I think back to her saying her guitar was a gift but then quickly changing the subject.
I was all for having a female record with us, and Stasia and I get along great. The problem isn’t anything to do with music, though. My concern is Kelly. She wasn’t super thrilled
the first time I sang with Stasia, based solely on her choice of clothing—and right now, she doesn’t offer much more for chaste coverage. I’m already in deep with Kelly, and suddenly I’m feeling like I made the wrong bet.
Again.
Chapter Twelve
Kelly sits on the bar top at The Rock Room, and Xander and I sit on the stools at the corner of the bar with Dom and Theo at our sides. Natalie hands a cup of iced water to Dom, then prepares glasses of whiskey and slides them to the rest of us. Kelly intercepts mine, taking the first sip then leaning forward and kissing my lips. It’s a perfect, slow kiss, flavored with my favorite liquor and soft lips belonging to my favorite girl.
Things have been good for us. By good, I mean I’m sleeping in the bed instead of the couch and she’s not locking me out of the damn house. Baby steps, I suppose. But we haven’t told her about our new band arrangement yet, and I’m not sure how she’s going to take it.
As if on cue, the click clack of high heels echoes through The Rock Room.
“We’re closed,” Kelly yells, and I turn to see Stasia waltzing across the venue, headed our direction.
“I heard this is where the band members of Consistently Inconsistent hang out.” She swings a leg over a stool and makes herself comfortable. “Now the band’s all here!” She’s smiling but Kelly’s not. Her eyes find mine with a darkened glare about them.
Damn it. Couch again.
“I’ll take a vodka soda,” Stasia says, reaching into her pocketbook instead of looking at Natalie as she orders.
Xander opens his mouth and lifts his hands above the bar, about to fill Natalie in on the drama, but Kelly interjects.
“Like I said, we’re closed.” She talks and signs simultaneously.
“Everyone else is drinking…” Stasia says, flicking her wrist and pointing to the drinks on the counter.
“They were just leaving.” Kelly hops down from the bar top. “And so were you.” She wraps her fingers into mine and I stand, walking beside her.
“Anything you forgot to tell me?” Kelly asks.
“So, Cooper invited Stasia to feature on a few tracks for us,” I reply, knowing it’s what I should have started the night with.
“I see that. She’s…charming.” Kelly doesn’t hide her sarcasm as she says the word. “She’s actually very pretty.” I can hear it in her voice. She’s feeling a little more insecure than she usually lets on.
“She’s not you.” I bring her hand to my lips and kiss each knuckle.
“Are you coming home tonight?”
“There’s no place I’d rather be.”
I don’t look back at my band mates, new or old, as I leave the venue hand in hand with Kelly. We keep our fingers interlocked the entire way home, talking and laughing as we walk. Our palms never part, like neither of us wants to be the one to let go first. Once we arrive home, though, our hands aren’t linked, but our bodies are.
The moonlight glows through the blinds, leaving rows of shadows and light across Kelly’s bare skin. She’s the definition of flawless. I spent years wanting her, admiring her from afar and every time I see her, still, even though I am hers and she is mine, it feels like the first time, every time.
She drags her fingernails down the skin of my back and pulls me into her. I lean forward, kissing her collarbones, her neck and her ears. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed her. So many nights I’ve spent sitting at tables in smoke-filled rooms, losing money to people I’d hardly consider friends, when I could’ve been here with her, loving every inch of her and giving all of me over to her gentle touch and…her not-so-gentle touch.
She takes control the way she usually does, flipping me so my back is against the bed, and she positions herself over me, keeping her body close to mine, skin to skin, body to body.
Eventually she collapses on the mattress next to me. I wrap my arm around her abdomen and pull her close, drifting off to the best sleep I’ve had in a long time and knowing that whatever it was I was out there looking for night after night, I had it all along under my own roof.
When I wake, she’s still sleeping. I don’t want to leave. There is nothing I want more in this moment than to stay here with her, dreaming right alongside her. But my newly established reputation as ‘teetering on unreliable’ extends past more than Kelly. The band knows it too, and I made a promise to Cooper that I’d be better. An early arrival to the studio is expected of me, and I know Coop won’t accept anything less.
Stasia is already in the sound booth when we all arrive. Cooper is pacing back and forth in front of the music mixer buttons, instructing the gentleman in charge of the controls where to adjust and what to do. Stasia sounds great. Her vocals are perfect and reaching ranges I once thought were myths. This, all of the sudden, is starting to seem like a good idea again.
She waves enthusiastically from behind the microphone in the recording room.
“You guys ready to get in there and lay down some vocals with her?” Cooper asks, and everyone nods.
The look on Cooper’s face is one of pure delight, telling us Stasia’s presence is exactly what he was looking for when he said, “something different”.
Stasia is still on the other side of the glass, testing her style on some of our material. The band and Cooper stay on the other side of the window watching as Stasia works her magic in the booth. She’s so comfortable there, so natural, that there’s no way she’s as unexperienced as she lets on. The phrase ‘too good to be true’ comes to mind, and I find myself wondering if she’s being one hundred percent honest about her musical background.
“I want to talk to you all about something.” Cooper turns so his back is to the sound booth and he’s facing all four of us. “There have to be rules.”
None of us respond vocally but our obvious collectively confused expressions are enough for him to continue.
He clears his throat. “No inter-band relationships.” It’s the least confident lecture Cooper has ever given us. He barely looks at us as he speaks like a father having the sex talk with his sons for the first time.
The band lets out a collective ‘ohhhhh’ mixed with a few laughs at Cooper’s expense.
“I’m serious.” His voice shifts into a more familiar, down to business manner. “I’ve never had to get involved in your love lives, and I certainly don’t want to start now, but this is a good thing we have going. She could be great for this album. Do not ruin it—for her or for the rest of us.”
Cooper isn’t wrong to set the tone for things going forward. He’s never had to worry about any relationship drama amongst the band before—and adding a member of the opposite sex could have made some waves five years ago, but now? Xander is happily married. I have eyes for only one woman. Dom doesn’t date. He’s never brought a love interest around in all the time I’ve known him. It’s not his style—one-night stand or long-term love. Dom avoids both. He’s content by himself and has been that way as long as I can remember. Theo’s love life is complicated, but it also makes it unlikely that he would be the one to rock the boat while we tread these new waters, but at any rate, he’s the first to agree to the new terms.
“It’s a good call,” Theo says, nodding as he speaks. “This will all be for nothing if it gets ruined over a fling. Treat her like one of the guys. That’s what she is now.”
“One of the guys,” Dom reiterates as he watches her sing into the microphone in the booth.
We all watch Stasia for a while from beyond the glass. Even in recording, she sings like she’s performing for a crowd of thousands and not four other band members and some studio staff. She sways back and forth to music only she can hear through the headphones she wears. As she hits big notes, I can practically see her vocal cords getting their exercise under the skin at her throat. Cooper gives Xander and me a bit of direction and insight as to what he wants and sends us into the studio with Stasia to give this experiment a go. It is mostly moments of us screwing around, trying to get used to each other’s sounds and contrib
utions, practicing with our new person before laying down a committed track, but Cooper is happy with the outcome regardless.
“Brilliant!” he yells as we exit the booth. “I don’t know why we didn’t do this years ago. It’s fresh, and it’s perfect. You, Stasia, you are a very talented girl.”
“Thank you.” She smiles and it appears she’s blushing, but it’s hard to tell under the makeup she wears. Cooper is right. Stasia is talented. She is, dare I say it, the female version of Julian Young—superior talents and musically inclined, but with any luck has a better head on her shoulders.
“Coffee?” Xander says through a yawn and the band—all five of us—exit the recording studio and head to Chance’s on the Corner.
* * * *
Kelly has a shift at The Rock Room and has booked some band that’s quickly gaining popularity. She asked me, Xander and the guys—well, guys plus one girl—to come check them out, and we agreed. They don’t start until half past eight, so I have time to kill, but Blake Mathews and time to kill is historically a lethal combination.
I sit at the counter shuffling a deck of cards. They fall from one hand to the other in a long cascade of plastic-coated paper, meeting again in a pile in my other hand. My phone rings and I’m hesitant to flip it over. Every time I look, the phone lights up with Isabella’s invitations to another hand of poker that I can’t afford—and I don’t mean financially. But it’s not. It’s Stasia.
Grab a pizza before The Rock Room?
A second thought didn’t cross my mind. Going out with Stasia is a safer bet than any other choice I could make. I typed back an enthusiastic yes and met up with her for dinner and a bit of fun and games at a local arcade. The puck flies toward me and I stop it under the blue plastic air hockey paddle, striking it hard and sending it back across the surface toward Stasia. The puck slides perfectly into the goal slot, lights illuminating overhead in the middle of the arcade.
Stasia lets out a frustrated snarl but slips another payment into the machine and the clocks set to zero.