Bam
AFTER A FEW moments of the standoff between Winston and Chas, I started to get a little nervous. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen Winston pull his gun on someone. However, this was the first time I’d seen him do so to someone in our camp. Bar owners that didn’t want to pay the band, sure. Drunken, sexually frustrated frat boys that wanted to kick our asses, sure. This was the road after all, but this was new territory for our road manager. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who’d been on the road too long.
“You pull a gun on me, you better use it.” Chas’ words were slow and cold.
“I ain’t drawin’, just showin’ you, so you know I mean business,” Winston replied.
“I’ll shove that piece up your arse—”
“Back off, both of you,” I warned as I stepped between them. The last thing we needed was Winston in jail or a hole in Chas silk suit.
“Don’t you tell me what to do, boy. I’ve been doin’ this job since before you discovered your dick,” Chas said.
“I ain’t ’fraid to go back to prison!” Winston shouted.
I bit back a laugh as I faced Winston. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, brother, but I think you can stand down now.” I turned back to Chas. “Chas, I’m trying to fix this, just calm down and we can figure this out. I don’t want to fight—I don’t want any more trouble.”
“Trouble? Trouble? All you bring us is trouble these days!” Zeke shouted. “Melody Morgan, Sheila Roberts, and now Lucy fucking Haddon. You fuckin’ blew opening for RatHound...RatHound.”
“I know, Zeke, and I’m telling you I’m going to fix this,” I said.
“No, we are going to fix this,” Zeke countered. “There’s no way I’m letting you meet with her alone tomorrow. No way Chas is going to let you.”
“Let me?” I snapped back. “What do you mean ‘let me?’ This is our band Zeke. Yours, mine, Jimmy’s, our band. And this sure as hell isn’t Chas’ band!”
“That’s right Bam, it’s our band not your damned solo act, so we’re all going to meet with her tomorrow.”
“Fine, Zeke.” I threw my hands up. “We’ll all go. One big happy fuckin’ family.”
The cracks in my band were widening. Zeke and Chas were clearly vying for control of the band. Jimmy had always had my back, but I could even feel him pulling away. He seemed to be becoming more and more isolated these days. Who even knew what Edward was thinking?
He had been the band’s third guitarist since our formation, and even though he seemed eager to join us eight months ago, his interest already seemed to be waning. I couldn’t understand why this rift was happening now when everything was going so great. The new album and single were doing well, and the tour was entirely sold out. Our first headlining theater tour and we were selling out. We should have been happy.
“We’ll all go,” I continued. “We’ll talk, she’ll see we’re the right band for the tour, and everything will be okay.”
“It’d better be Bam,” Zeke said, his eyes locked on me.
Or what? I thought. It was moments like this that reminded me that I never really knew what Zeke thought of me. Not entirely.
The ride to the hotel in the band van was dead silent. Winston and the road crew always rode in their own separate van and Chas and his long-suffering assistant Hadley Simon traveled in Chas’ prized Bentley. We didn’t even have a proper tour bus and that fat bastard drove around in a Bentley, with a personal assistant. I actually felt bad for Hadley. She seemed sweet and I couldn’t figure out why she’d put up with Chas, or us for that matter. She was in her early thirties, cute as hell and spent most of her time fighting off the advances of sleazy rock promoters. She seemed a bit too smart to stick around all this bullshit for too long.
The band van was always reserved for only us—no fans, no business people, no girlfriends. This was our sacred space. Our place to write, our place to fight, and tonight it was our place to sit and stew in silence. Typically, we’d be laughing, talking about the night’s show or listening to music. The drive after the show always served as a bonding time, but lately I felt more and more distant from the band.
Zeke’s resentment of my recent high-profile relationship and the attention it brought on the band was growing. He hated that some people only knew of the band because of who I was, or more specifically, who I was dating.
To make matters worse, I had written a song for Melody before we broke up. Roses for Anna served as her backup band for the recording. Even though Melody was known as a pop singer, she was actually a great rock singer. She had asked me to write a song for her in order to showcase this other side of her. The song ended up on a very popular movie soundtrack. The movie and the song, billed as a duet between Melody Morgan with Roses for Anna, were huge hits. This should have been good news for the band, but not everyone saw it this way. Some members felt it softened our image.
Hadley checked us into the hotel and handed each of us our room keys. The sound of our roller bags on the hallway carpet was the only thing audible as we made our way to our rooms.
* * *
Lucy
What the hell am I doing?
I sat in the Town Car heading back to my apartment and verbally chastised myself. I was free. I had all the ammunition in the world to go back to my parents and let them know Roses for Anna would be a bad addition to the tour. But, no. What did I do? I fell for Bam and his southern charm, hook, line, and sinker. I was an idiot. A horny one. Which might be why I’d let him charm me.
I lowered the glass between me and my driver. “Sully?”
“Yes, Miss Haddon?”
“I need a burger, please.”
“Of course, Miss Haddon.”
“And a shake,” I added. “And probably some onion rings.”
He met my eyes in the rearview mirror. “Your usual?”
“Yes, please.” I smiled. “Thanks, Sully.”
“My pleasure.”
Sullivan Wallace had been my bodyguard and driver since I was ten. He was kind of my best friend… to be honest, most days I felt like he was my only friend. He’d been hired by my parents when threats had been made against the family. Coincidentally, the threats started around about the same time Dad went into rehab. It was a shit time in my life and most days I wanted to forget it. My brother had his own driver, as did my parents. But Sully was all mine, and even after the threats had been eliminated, he’d stayed. He was my dad’s age, unmarried, which was weird since he was gorgeous. Tall and muscular, his dark hair was peppered with white and he kept a slight beard that gave him a Pierce Brosnan look.
“Sully?”
“Yes, Miss Haddon?”
“Will you ever call me Lucy?”
“Probably not, Miss Haddon.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I think that’s ridiculous, Mr. Wallace.”
He chuckled. “I’m aware Miss Haddon.”
We pulled up to the drive-thru and I ordered, then he drove around to the window and paid. He handed me my milkshake, but not the food. There were two rules for riding with Sully. No food or sex in his Town Car. The second rule was only verbalized when my first boyfriend and I made out in the back of the car when I was sixteen. He didn’t last long and I was pretty sure Sully did something to scare him away, but I was never able to prove it, nor was I ever sure it was over protecting me or his car… he was weird about his car.
We arrived at my high-rise building and Sully walked me up to my apartment. “I’m not going out again tonight, Sully. You can take off for the evening.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.
“Thank you.”
He smiled and took off, and I set my food on the counter, changed into yoga pants and a T-shirt, then dug into my food. Ohmigod, I loved a good burger. My butt wasn’t much of a fan, but as I took another bite, I couldn’t even give a modicum of shit about it.
I shoved an onion ring into my mouth just as a knock at my door came. I checked the peephole and pulled open the door. “Hi, Daddy.”
“Hey, baby girl.” He leaned down and kissed my cheek. “Hmm, onion rings. The meeting went that badly?”
Okay, I had a choice to make here. Knowing my dad, he already knew exactly what happened… but do I gloss over that and make my case as to why I’m letting Bam meet with me tomorrow?
“Come on in and I’ll give you the low-down,” I said.
My dad was one of the sexiest men alive, according to People Magazine’s 1994 and 2001 editions. He was almost fifty-three years old, but still looked like he was in his thirties. Tall, dark-haired, blue eyed and one hell of a musician, he was a legend… and he was madly in love with my mother which was another reason women wanted him. Who wasn’t attracted to a man who would never stray? Even with his drug and alcohol issues of the past, he never once cheated on my mother.
“Where’s Mom?” I asked, and shoved another onion ring in my mouth.
“Home.”
“She’s missing all the fun.”
“She didn’t miss anything.” He grinned. “I wore her out.”
I covered my ears. “Nope. No. Don’t want to know. Gross, Dad.”
He chuckled and grabbed a ring. “Fill me in.”
“What did you hear?”
“Epic fight, Bam took Chas down… sort of. Possible concussion.”
I gasped. “Bam has a concussion?”
“Luce. Focus. Bam’s good.”
I nodded. “Right.”
I filled him in on the events of the evening, leaving nothing out except my attraction to the drummer. My dad did not need to be made aware of the reaction of my private parts when Bam Bam Nelson was around.
“Wow,” Dad breathed out.
“Did I screw it up?”
“Why the hell would you think you screwed it up?”
“Because you don’t need that kind of drama, Daddy. I should probably cancel the meeting tomorrow.”
“Nope. You’re taking that meeting.”
“I am?”
“Baby girl, that’s the band I want. I can handle drama; I’ve been married to your mother for over thirty years—”
I snorted out a laugh.
He smiled. “What I need to know is if Roses for Anna can handle a dry tour.”
“I will find out tomorrow morning, then.”
He cocked his head and studied me.
“What?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Do I need to warn you about him again?”
“What? No. Why? That’s dumb, Dad.” I focused on my shake and took a couple of sips in an effort not to nervously rant.
“Baby girl.”
“Dad. I’m twenty-five years old, I’m running your tour, I’m an adult. You need to let me be one. I can handle Bam Bam Nelson. The man has the name of a cartoon caveman or cavebaby—whatever.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Do you think I’ve forgotten about the T-shirts and posters? You haven’t been out of this house for that long.”
“Dad, you were the one that asked me to meet with them, remember?”
“You’re right, I’m sorry and I trust you.” He smiled and threw his hands up in mock surrender.
“Good.”
“Okay, I’m gonna get back to your mom. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He kissed me again and then headed out the door.
I finished my burger, grabbed a glass of wine, and flopped onto the sofa for a chick flick marathon, both excited and terrified to meet with Bam in the morning.