Chapter 7-Leila
Dinner with Dad tonight should be interesting. I wonder if he will continue to ignore the situation. I’m meeting him at his favorite restaurant. Well, it’s actually just a pizzeria, but they serve a mean chicken parm. I’m barely two feet into the restaurant when the entire front staff yells out, “LEILA!” in varying degrees of Italian accents. I love this place.
“Hi guys. How’s it going?” I call over to them, heading for my dad’s table.
Angelo, the owner smiles and says, “Bellisima.” as I walk by.
“Hi Dad. I hope you haven’t been waiting long.” I bend to kiss the top of his head.
“Nope, just got here. How’s my sweet girl?” He seems chipper and is showing no apprehension at all. This is good. I know he and Evan have a heart to heart talk. I may owe Evan big time, once again.
“I’m great. I have had a few busy days. I’m really excited about this.”
“Ok, let me have it. I want all of it no matter how much it will hurt.”
I begin to fill him in on all the details of my meeting with Devil’s Lair. I tell him about my audition, since I held back a lot of details when I saw him last week, but I still leave out details of Mr. Sex on legs. I tell him about my meetings with Jennifer and the band, and with Mr. Morrow, and how I will be re-meeting with the band tomorrow to finalize the contract.
I talk as we eat and he rarely interrupts me at all. After he knows almost everything, he lays it on me.
“You really want this, right babe?”
“Yeah, dads, so much.”
He closes his eyes and nods. I guess that was his last attempt to sway me. “Ok. I get it. Lei, first I want you to know that I am extremely proud of you. You have been the most wonderful daughter a man can ask for. I know your mom is smiling down on you right now, and I so wish she could be here for you. I’m sure being raised by your dad was challenging and inadequate at times.”
I’m about to interrupt, but he puts up his hand and tells me to hush. “Through it all, through all my insecurities, I managed to raise a beautiful young girl and watch her become an even more beautiful young woman. I look at you now and know I did something right.”
He is freaking killing me…
“I want you to know that I support you wholeheartedly. I am not going to lie. I am terrified about this tour thing. I expect a phone call every few days, even if it is for ten seconds. Texts won’t count, as I will need to hear your voice. If anyone hurts you in any way, I will find that bus and I will kill them. I know plenty of places to hide a body.”
Oh jeez, he’s only half joking about this I’m sure.
“I want you to relish in every minute of this awesome experience. Most would kill for this opportunity and you need to constantly remember how fortunate you are. I want you to take care of yourself and most importantly stay true to who you are. That’s all I ask of you.”
“That’s it?” I’m smiling now from ear to ear.
“Yep, that’s it. Your dad is done ranting. I will be fine. Don’t you worry about me for one minute.” The way his eyes moisten with unshed tears rips at my heartstrings and causes my eyes to betray me too.
“Dad, I’m not leaving for a few months. You can’t keep making me cry.”
“Sorry sweetheart, I can’t make any promises.” He says while squeezing my hand. He reaches over and wipes away my tears and kisses my forehead gently.
“I love you so much, baby girl.”
“I know dad. I love you too.”
That could have gone a whole different way. This man always has me guessing. When I expect him to freak out, he doesn’t. When I expect him to be cool, he freaks out.
Relief floods my veins. I was absolutely dreading this conversation with Dad, more than anything in the world. I don’t look forward to having the same conversation with my band. With this behind me, though, I feel much more confident and able to get through the rest.
I have an awesome support system. I am a lucky girl, in so many ways. I have so many great people who love me unconditionally, a talented singing voice, and a chance to pursue my dreams of becoming a rock star.
***
Jack, Jennifer and an older gentleman are in the conference room when I arrive. “Welcome back Leila.” Jennifer says with a forced smile. She is once again dressed to kill. From what I’ve seen of her wardrobe, it looks to be very expensive. I have on the same dress that I wore yesterday to my meeting with Mr. Morrow, except I lost the pearls and traded the sensible heels for funky ones. Even so, it still feels more appropriate for a funeral than a business meeting.
“Thank you.” Since we are going to be spending a lot of time together, I might as well kill her with kindness.
She barely smiles back. It’s obvious that she doesn’t feeling the same way as I do, yet her eyes aren’t as cold as our first meeting. As she turns away, I’m hit with a realization. I think I understand her attitude towards me. She was probably queen of the Lair and I’m possibly going to muddy the estrogen-to-testosterone ratio with the band. Well this should be interesting…
“Leila, this is Mr. Crowse. He is the attorney for Devil’s Lair.” She says while motioning to the gentleman standing next to her.
He reaches over the table to shake my hand. “Nice to meet you Miss Marino. “
“Please, call me Leila.” I reply while shaking his hand. He seems nice and not at all intimidating.
Jack leans closer and whispers, “Welcome back.”
Two words and nothing remotely sexy, hot, or seductive about them.
SO WHY THE HELL IS MY CROTCH PULSING?
Thankfully, Mr. Crowse takes over and interjects, “Well, Leila, we have reviewed the new contract containing the revisions you and Mr. Morrow have made, and we feel all amendments are acceptable.” I make a tiny sigh of relief.
One of the amendments states that I can still continue to perform with Cliffhangers, even after Devil’s Lair rehearsals begin. I asked for this to be added to the contract. I thought they were going to veto that request, but they obviously didn’t have a problem with it. Rehearsals will run daily Monday through Friday. As long as I can manage both commitments, there is no reason that I can’t continue with Cliffhangers on weekends, until our tour begins. I’ll catch up on my sleep during the nights that I don’t perform.
I’m fine with it and can definitely handle it. I will only perform at The Zone, which is definitely an upside. This will also give me a chance to wean myself off my boys and vice versa.
My mind wanders as we briefly discuss some more details. The contract effective date is first of June. That gives me less than a month before rehearsals begin. This will give me a chance to spend quality time with dad, and for Cliffhangers to replace me. I need to have a conversation with them regarding that and I am not looking forward to it.
“Do you have any further concerns, or questions for us?” Mr. Crowse question yanks me back to our meeting.
“No, Mr. Crowse, I am all set. I am extremely excited about joining Devil’s Lair, and I am definitely ready to get started.” I speak only the absolute truth.
“Well, it would be our great pleasure to request for you to please sign on the dotted line.” He responds while smiling at his own rhyme.
The contract is passed around the table, and we all add our signatures. I suddenly feel like I just literally signed over my soul to the devil as I write my name. I look over at Jack to see the mentioned devil staring directly at me.
Grinning as he watches me, I can’t help but beam right back. Wow! I am a member of Devil’s Lair. It’s almost anticlimactic. I expected to hear a choir of angels, or see fireworks erupt over Jennifer’s head.
Mr. Crowse rises and announces, “Leila, we will have a copy of this contract Fed Ex’d to your home tomorrow. Please feel free to call me if you have anything else you would like to discuss. It was a great pleasure meeting you today. Devil’s Lair has gotten themselves’ quite a beautiful addition.”
“Thank you, that’s very nice of you to say.” I thank the kind man standing next to Jennifer, as well as Jennifer and Jack. I grab my bag and turn to leave the conference room just as Jack holds my elbow and asks if I’d like to get a cup of coffee or something to eat.
The zing is running right through my body and hitting every erogenous zone along the way.
Nodding is the only form of communication I can muster.
I sneak a glance over to Jennifer, but she is quietly discussing something with Mr. Crowse. Relieved she didn’t hear what Jack said, I follow him out of the conference room. I really don’t want to get on her bad side even more than I already seem to be.
Jack leads me out of the studio and down the street. The silence stretches between us, and builds the kind of tension that only comes from being in the company of a perfect stranger. The more I wrack my brain for something to say to him, the more it goes completely blank.
Jack doesn’t seem to notice the angst, or the trail of girls he leaves in his path panting over his handsome face. He turns to a small coffee shop tucked in the middle of the block and guides me towards the door with his hand on my lower back.
“This is it.”
The warmth of his touch penetrates the fabric of my dress and burns right through to my skin.
An involuntary gasp escapes my lips and prompts him to look at me with concern. “Oh, is this ok? I eat here quite a bit. It looks like a dive, but the food is decent. They make a mean grilled cheese.”
“Um…yeah, this looks great. I love grilled cheese.” I smile weakly trying to control my erratic breathing. Internally I’m chastising myself for my lack of control, once again.
The dinette looks like something out of a movie set. Stainless steel panels line the walls behind the back counter. A glass carousel sits at the end of a long counter and revolves the day’s selection of pies and desserts. Dessert glasses are stacked as well as plastic tumblers, coffee cups and saucers. There is even the uniform clad waitress with the typical bouffant hairdo, snapping her gum very loudly. I almost expect her nametag to read “FLO”.
She comes over with a carafe of coffee in her hand the minute our butts hit the booth. There are already cups, and saucers on the table. She immediately starts pouring coffee for us without asking if we wanted decaf, or tea instead. FLO’s actual name is Doris, which would have been my second guess.
“Hey cutie pie. How’s my handsome boy today?” She looks at Jack like she wants to eat him alive. It’s funny actually because she must be sixty.
“Hey Dee, I’m great. This here is Leila. She just joined the band.” There is something in his eyes. It can’t be pride? He barely knows me.
Doris gives me the once over. “Well aren’t you adorable. It’s nice to meet you Leila. Be sure to treat my boys real well, or you will have to answer to me.” Though she speaks with a smile, I can see the threat in her eyes.
“I will do my best.” I am more concerned with how they will be treating me.
Jack orders for both of us. Dumb as it sounds, it’s actually very sexy. We are only in a greasy diner and he ordered me a grilled cheese and fries, but it’s kind of romantic. He asks me if I want anything else to drink, and I request ice water. He orders a Coke. Doris jots it down, winks at Jack and makes her way to the kitchen doors.
“So, tell me about yourself, Miss Marino.” He ventures after taking a sip of his coffee. He drinks it black. I cannot, so I start to add cream and sugar to my own cup.
“What do you want to know?”
“How old are you?”
“Why do you ask?”
He shrugs, “Just curious.”
“Twenty-five. Is that ok?”
Chuckling he responds, “Of course. I just thought you were older.”
“Definitely not something a girl wants to hear.”
“No, no, it’s a complement. You are very mature and responsible. I was impressed on how you handled Mr. Morrow.”
“Thanks?”
He smirks and explains, “It’s a compliment.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty eight.”
Nodding, I take a sip of coffee, looking up to see Jack frowning. “What’s wrong?”
“What, no compliment for me?” He teases.
“Oh…um, yes you are very mature also?” An apologetic smile accompanies my response.
He chuckles again and shakes his head. “You sound so convincing Miss Marino. I have another question. Where do you see yourself in five years?”
“Wow. Didn’t I already get the job? I feel like I’m on an interview.”
He laughs. “You did get the job. But I’m still curious.”
“Five years…that’s right around the corner. I was just in high school.” Stopping to take a sip of my water I scramble my brain for an acceptable answer. Truth is I see myself touring the country as the lead singer of my own rock band. Being in a relationship would be nice too. “Um…I see myself singing in my own rock band.” I say hesitantly, watching his face for his reaction. “Am I fired?”
“No, you aren’t fired. I appreciate your honesty. I get it. Your voice definitely screams for solo success. It’s flattering that you are choosing Devil’s Lair to begin your career.”
“I’m flattered you chose me to join your band. I’m a big fan.”
“What other bands or artists do you listen to?”
“Well my dad played a lot of music while I was growing up. I love Springsteen and...”
“Wait…” He immediately cuts me off. “I knew you were going to say that. It’s like every Jersey girls’ birth-right to like Springsteen.”
“That’s not true. I have a lot of friends who prefer Bon Jovi.”
Jack lays his full blown CCDS smile on me in response.
Oh my god…
“What?” I ask breathlessly.
“I knew you were going to say that too.”
“Why don’t you like Springsteen?”
“He’s alright.”
“He’s a poet. Have you ever listened to his lyrics?” Pure conviction fills my voice.
“They’re alright.” He throws back at me.
WHAT?
I shake my head in disbelief. “Have you ever heard the lyrics to Jungleland? You can argue that his lyrics can be considered Shakespeare’s modern day Othello. They are poetic genius.”
He shakes his head while smiling widely. “Ok you get an A+ for that literary reference, but poetic genius? You are definitely insane.”
“Uh…ok, we need to agree to disagree about Springsteen. I just signed a contract to spend a year with you and I really don’t want to hate you already.”
“Hate me? Wow, that hurts.” He grins while holding his heart, and he takes my breath away yet again.
The filter in my brain malfunctions, and I blurt out, “You have a really nice smile.”
My comment takes him by surprise. “Why thank you. You have really nice eyes.”
Out of embarrassment, I look down to avoid eye contact while biting on my lip. An awkward silence looms between us. Jack notices my uneasiness and brings the conversation back to music.
“Ok, so keep going, who else?”
Doris appears just in time with my water. I take a long sip and carefully watch him gazing at me over the rim of the glass. He waits patiently. My guess is that he most definitely is onto me and knows I am stalling.
Clearing my throat, I try again. “Um, ok, I love Pat Benatar. Her range blows me away. I love Fleetwood Mac, and The Eagles, and Boston, and Foreigner, and The Who, and Journey, and Zeppelin and…”
“Wait.” He interrupts me again.
Rolling my eyes I complain, “What?”
Suddenly he laughs…a deep, throaty, sexy as hell laugh.
Oh lord.
We will never finish our conversation if he continues to do this to me during this lunch, and I will end up getting fired.
I grab my water and take another sip to cool down.
Jack has been talking, but I have no idea what he has said. I tune back in to hear him say, “…of your dads’ influences, I’m sure. What about modern bands? Who do you listen to that aren’t over the age of thirty?”
At that exact moment our food comes and he dives right in. I take a bite out of my own sandwich and moan. He’s right, it’s delicious.
At once he glances up with an intense, smoldering gaze. “I take it that you like?”
It’s the look that hypnotizes me, puts me in a trance, and turns whatever brain cells I do have into mush. Nodding as a reflex reaction, he repeats my motions just before he shoves more of the sandwich into his mouth and calls Doris over.
“Dee, can I get a… ”
“I already put it in doll.”
This must be a pattern for him.
With a face full of fries, he asks, “More?”
I again shake my head pathetically out of reflex. I’ve apparently forgotten the basics of the English language. Doris nods and walks away.
Jeeze, he even looks pretty while shoving food into his face. Anyone else would look like a total buffoon. His hands picking up his fries, his sandwich, his coke, have me completely mesmerized. They are so masculine. This is a first. I don’t think a pair of hands has ever turned me on. There is a long scar on the back of his left hand that makes me wonder what happened to him. Was it a fight? I need to ask him about it one day.
“Ok, keep going. Who else?”
“Are you going to interrupt me again?”
With a look of complete innocence, he crosses his heart. “No. I promise.”
“Ok…I love Cliffhangers.” I smile sweetly at him. The look he gives me makes me giggle. “They are the band I play with in Hoboken.”
“Oh, I am definitely coming to Hoboken to hear them play. So who else?” He finishes his sandwich and continues with his fries.
I bat my eyelashes. “You know how much I love Devil’s Lair. They sound so hot!”
Jack blinks a couple of times disoriented. Then he smirks at me while his smoldering gaze sets my insides on fire. “You already signed the contract Leila, so there is no need to butter me up, unless you want to that is.”
Holy hell…he’s wrecking me.
“Hello? Are you still with me?” he asks. Sometime during my internal orgasm Doris delivered the second grilled cheese sandwich and he has already taken a bite.
“Um…” I pause. “I love Every Avenue. I think they are awesome. I have most of their music downloaded. I also love My Darkest Days, Linkin Park, and MACE.”
“Much better. MACE is very cool. We loved touring with them last year. My Darkest Days is also cool. Not many know who they are yet, kind of like us. I also love Every Avenue. They have a great song called, Tie Me Down. Do you know it?” He glances down but grins devilishly.
That’s my ringtone for him. It’s a song about being tied down and fucked and I suddenly feel very, very warm.
My blush tells him that I know the song well.
“Who else do you like? Who influences Devil’s Lair?” I try to throw the conversation back to his court. I need time to sit and process.
“The usual. The Stones and Zeppelin. I love the Doors. Morrison was a freaking genius. I also love U2, and Aerosmith, as you already know. Coldplay, Linkin Park, and Kings of Leon are cool. Oh, and Bob Marley.”
Now it’s my turn to interrupt him. “Reggae? I wouldn’t peg you as a fan.”
“The beat is fantastic. Bob Marley is a legend. I like to relax and listen to reggae. It doesn’t influence my own music too much, so I can purely enjoy it without worrying its seeping into my artistic subconscious.”
He explains when he sees my eyebrows pulled together in confusions. “When you write your own songs, it’s hard to listen to a lot of the competition. Other music and lyrics tend to influence what you want to create. I avoid other rock bands when I am in a zone and writing lyrics to a song, so my music is purely me.” I knew he was a talented musician, but this bit of information he shares with me has me very impressed.
I am about to tell him so, when a very giddy young girl interrupts us.
“Oh my god!!!! You are Jack Lair!!!” She hops up and down at the end of our booth.
“Um yes, I am. How’s it goin’?” He looks clearly discomfited. Mr. Sex God is not quite used to fame yet.
She asks for a picture and without waiting for a yes or no response slides into the booth next to him. Shoving her phone at me she asks, “Please, can you take this?” while never taking her eyes off Jack.
“Um, sure. No problem.” Jack raises his left arm to wrap around the girl’s shoulders, and she beams at the phone. I barely snap the picture when she scoots out of the booth and starts texting it out to someone.
She calls out, “Thank you!” and practically skips away. We look at each other and burst out laughing.
“You aren’t used to getting recognized yet, I see.”
Jack shrugs and says, “Nope, not yet. None of us really are yet. It doesn’t happen often, but it is very surreal when it does.” Jack fiddles nervously with his silverware while quietly contemplating something in his mind. I surprisingly see a different side of Mr. Sex on Legs. He isn’t the cocky, look at me I’m a hot rock star type that I thought he was. He actually seems more unassuming than arrogant.
When he put his arm around “giddy girl” the sleeve of his t-shirt rode up, exposing a small part of his tattoo. Dying of curiosity, I decide to ask him. “What do you have tattooed on your arm?”
He glances down to his left arm, twisting his body and lifting the sleeve enough to reveal the whole thing. It’s the band logo in gorgeous vibrant color. On the bottom running in straight block letters is “Devil’s Lair” with multi-color flames of red, gold, and orange, shooting up out of the words. It’s beautiful and I tell him as much.
“Thanks. Shortly after we got signed we worked with the studio on our logo. This is what the graphic department came up with. It was such a defining moment for us that I felt it was necessary to honor it.” He’s gives me a shy half smile.
“Do any of the other guys have it also?” I ask worrying this is some sort of rite of passage into the band.
“No, just me. I’m not sure Trey could find the space on his body for this. Hunter wants to get something similar tattooed one day. He thinks he wants his drum set with the logo on the bass drum, but he hasn’t made up his mind yet. Scott’s not the tattoo type. Do you have any tattoos?”
“Nope, no tattoos. I never had the desire for one actually. Maybe one day something will mean enough for me to put it on my body.”
Um, did I just say that out loud?
Amusedly he opens his mouth to comment, yet decides not to.
Instead, he looks over at my uneaten fries.
“Would you like some of my fries?” I tease.
“Yep.” He reaches for some and dips them into my ketchup.
“I have a question. Is Jack Lair your real name?” I just need to know.
“Yeah, why?” he asks looking amused.
“Oh, I don’t know. Jack Lair. Seems too perfect for a rock star.” I say exactly what I am thinking.
“Kind of like Leila is for a rock singer?”
“Touché.”
“So what’s your favorite movie?”
“The Notebook.” He rolls his eyes and groans.
“What?”
“I hate that movie.”
“Ok, so far you hate Springsteen and my favorite movie. I quit.”
Chuckling he shrugs. “Sorry, it’s just such a chick flick.”
“Ok Mr. Macho, what’s your favorite movie?”
“Platoon.” Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes and groan. Shrugging he adds, “I’m all MAN.”
That he is.
“So have you always lived in Hoboken?” He shoves more fries into his mouth.
“No, I grew up in Cliffside Park. It’s about twenty minutes away from Hoboken, closer to the George Washington Bridge than the Lincoln Tunnel. Where are you from?”
“I’m from Long Island…Massapequa. I’ve lived there my entire life until I moved in with Hunter years ago. Our apartment is in Brooklyn.” He throws the ball back in my court. “How do your parents feel about this tour?”
Oh damn… he’s going there.
“Well, it’s just my dad. My mom died when I was ten.”
“I’m sorry.” He simply says, staring intently at me.
Uncharacteristically, I end up breaking our eye contact first by shrugging and looking away. “It was a long time ago.”
“So how does Dad feel about all of this?”
“Dad is very happy that I’m happy, but he’s not thrilled with my career choice.” I am not able to hide the uneasiness I feel with this line of questioning.
Jack doesn’t seem to notice. “What would he rather you be doing?”
“He supports a singing career, just not a rock band one. He prefers Broadway or a vocal teacher.”
We stare at each other for a few seconds, and I feel my pulse quickening. Jack starts to say something, and I cut him to the quick. “What about you? How do your parents feel about you being a rock star?”
“Oh they are just thrilled.” He says sarcastically. My confused expression prompts him to continue. “I was supposed to follow in dad’s footsteps and become a lawyer. I’m an NYU dropout.” He stops and smiles when he sees the surprise on my face.
Jack a lawyer?
Jack at NYU?
A model or an actor or most definitely a rock star? Yes! But an NYU lawyer? Mr. Pretty is also smart?
This man is killing me.
“I was actually studying pre-law at NYU when I dropped out. They were most definitely not happy with me. But they are more supportive now than they were a few years ago. Thanks to my sister, they now realize this is what I am meant to be.”
“How old is she?”
Doris appears with more coffee, filling our cups without asking for permission. She looks down at my plate and asks. ”Didn’t you like it hon?”
“Oh, it was the best grilled cheese I ever had. I’m just full.”
Doris goes to lift my plate. “Leave it Doris. I’m still working on it. But I’ll take my pie now. Leila would you like some pie?”
“No, I’m good. Thanks.” Doris winks again, and makes her way to the desert display.
“They also make a really good apple pie.” He grins and I can’t help but return a grin of my own. He looks adorable, like a little boy waiting for his ice cream.
“So how old is your sister?”
“She’s twenty five.”
“What’s her name?”
“Elizabeth, but we call her Lizzy. How did you become a singer?” Again he throws the conversation back to me. He really is good at that.
“I have been singing since I was a little girl. I grew up with the guys in my band. They immediately asked me to join them when they started. I share vocals with our lead singer Matt. We started off singing at weddings and bar mitzvahs, but thank God we got the gig at The Zone a few years ago. I was really happy about that since I hate singing at private parties.” I didn’t mean to ramble and share so much.
“Oh I don’t know. Private parties can be a lot of fun.” He raises his eyebrows and smirks suggestively. It’s unfair how this man exudes sensuality, especially to warm-blooded females who’ve been on an exceptionally long unprovoked sexual dry spell, like me.
Doris appears with the biggest piece of apple pie I have ever seen. Jack sees me eyeing it and says, “I usually don’t share. But you really need to try this.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“Nope. You need to try it. Trust me.” He cuts a huge piece off with his fork and shoves it into his own mouth first. “Mmm…damn it’s good.” He cuts another huge piece and stretches his arm towards me. “Taste.”
I lean back in the booth and shake my head while he nods his.
“Oh come on, I don’t have cooties. Try it.”
I widen my eyes at the huge hunk of pie sitting on his fork. Jack licks his lips while watching me intently.
Fuck…I really need to have sex.
The bastard is doing this on purpose and he’s not going to let me off this hook.
Well, two can play at this game.
“Fine.” I lean forward, open my mouth wide, and take the pie from his fork, running my lips along the prongs to wipe them clean. Instinctively, I close my eyes, lick my lips and moan suggestively as I slowly chew.
“Wow…that is good.” I open my eyes to see Jack staring at my mouth, with his fork still suspended in the air between us. In turn, I do the same in an effort to go tit for tat with him by visually devouring his chin, his stubble, and his lips before glancing back up to his eyes. I feel like we are playing chicken with each other. I’m not sure where this newfound confidence is coming from. I blame the Jack Lair voodoo. I haven’t acted like my typical self in his presence once since meeting him.
Jack slightly shifts in his seat and shoves more pie into his mouth to break our eye contact.
Game. Set. Match.
One point two seconds later, by merely watching as he slowly chews his pie, my internal switch is flipped causing me to squirm in my own seat from the throbbing in my lower region.
Close game.
There is an uncomfortable silence between us buzzing with sexual tension. I nonchalantly pick up my water as Jack consumes the rest of his pie.
He finally breaks the silence by asking, “Um, how many guys are in your band?”
“There are four guys and me. I am really proud of them. They have come a long way since playing in Logan and Matt’s basement.”
“Matt is your co-lead. Who’s Logan?”
“He’s our guitarist and Matt’s brother. Then there is Joseph our drummer, and Evan our bass player and my best friend.”
He looks up at me. “Best friend? How did you and Evan become BFF’s?”
I pause and try to answer his question without giving him my life story. “Well, we met in middle school. Evan is a year older than I am. We connected and have been inseparable ever since. He’s very close to my dad as well.”
“Oh, so Evan is like family?” Jack says this like a clarification. “How does Evan feel about your new career?” He takes another sip of his coffee while intently watching me.
“He is my biggest fan, even more than dad. He’ll miss me, but I know we will speak every day and nothing will change between us. We simply won’t let it.” I admit with complete honesty.
He stares at me until I break the connection and look down to take a sip of my own coffee.
“So Leila, besides Evan, is there anyone else that would be missing you terribly when we go on tour?”
Is he asking me if I have a boyfriend?
“My dad.” I shrug.
Jack smirks smugly and nods. “Got it. Well, I’m glad we did this. I feel like I know you better already.”
I glance at my phone and am shocked to see we have been sitting in this booth for over two hours. Jack motions for Doris and she makes her way over and says, “All done cutie pie?”
“Yep, we are good to go. Thanks, Dee.” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. I reach for my bag and open it as well. He gives me a look and says, “No way. It’s on me.”
“Thank you.”
He nods and hands Doris the money. Once he slides out of the booth, he puts an arm around Doris and kisses her cheek. She looks like he just made her day.
I follow Jack and slide out of the booth as well. Doris pats my arm like she has known me my whole life. “You take care of yourself Leila. Good luck with this crew. You’ll need it.” She says with humor.
“Hey Dee, what the hell?” Jack throws his hands up just as she swats at his ass. It’s obvious Doris feels very comfortable with Mr. Sex on Legs.
Jack puts his hand on my lower back as we walk out of the dinette and back towards the studio. I’m not even sure he is aware he is doing it. I’d like to think he is a gentleman and it’s just a habit instead of some cheesy move. It’s chivalrous and sweet and I like it.
“Where are you parked?” He looks around as if he would be able to spot my car at a glance.
“I’m over a few blocks.” I point behind me.
“Do you want me to walk…”
“No, not necessary.” I cut him off. “I’m fine. Thanks for lunch Jack. I had a nice time.”
“Me too, Leila. I’ll touch base with you in a few days and let you know what the next step is.” He steps towards me and pulls me into a hug.
He smells so good. He feels so good.
Jack releases me, way too quickly for my liking. Waving as he turns and walks into the studio, he leaves me rooted to my spot near the front door. Through the glass I watch as he strolls over to Sally and she smiles at him. The woman can smile, so what do you know? He says something to her and she holds up a magazine. I wonder if Sally is a friend, or an ex? God, I hope not.
I walk back to the lot where my car is parked, not remembering anything along the way except for Jack, and specifically that hug.
***
I call Evan on as I drive home.
“I can’t wait to hear all the details.”
I am really going to miss him.
“I thought I would make dinner for everyone tonight.” I ventured. ”Sort of wine and dine them, to help soften the blow.”
“You sure you want to do that? It could get messy.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. There are a few things I want to talk to you guys about, and I’d rather do it on my home turf. Can you ask the guys to come by around seven? That will give me a chance to pick up some stuff. Would you mind coming earlier though?” I don’t mean to turn him into my secretary, but I know Evan doesn’t mind.
“How about I meet you at the store? I’ll help you get what you need.”
We agree to meet in an hour.
I arrive a few minutes earlier than Evan and make my way down the aisles to get my ingredients. I know I’m making them pasta, so I start throwing all I need into my cart. As I put the last few items in, I feel two hands cover my eyes from behind… Evan. He has been doing this since we were in middle school.
Turning towards him, he brings me in for a hug. “Hey, Lei, I missed you.”
I laugh and reply, “Ev, we saw each other yesterday.”
“I know. Just sayin’.”
Evan grabs my cart, and we start walking side by side down the aisles. “So how did it go?”
“It went well. Contract is all signed, and we are starting rehearsals on the first of June.”
“Not much time, huh?” His tone makes the lump form in my throat.
“Well the good news is I will still be playing with you guys until we go out on tour in September. I had them add it to the contract. Rehearsals are in SoHo during the week. There is no reason I can’t continue playing at the bar on the weekends.”
He stops the cart to face me. “Lei, won’t that be too much on you? Juggling two bands at once?”
“No, Evan. I can handle it. I want to do this.” My words come out defensively.
He sighs. He knows he will lose this battle. He could easily keep arguing with me on the subject, but he chooses to change it.
“Ok, what are you making us tonight, because I’m starving?” This is the “Evan Miller” way of handling stress.
“My specialty, penne with vodka sauce.”
“Well then stop wasting time, woman.” He pushes the cart further down the aisle and then turns suddenly.
“Can you make us some of your brownies too?”
“Now you’re just taking advantage of me.”
“Damn straight.” He doesn’t deny my accusation. “Make a double batch so I can take some home.” He grins as he walks away, probably knowing I can’t deny him.
“Jerk.” I call after him and hear him laughing from the next aisle.