I narrow my eyes.
“Jen.” Dean looks desperate. “It’s true.”
I believe him. I really do. It’s Roxanne I’m not sure about. My shoulders relax a little and I focus on Dean’s manager. “Did he tell you this was all new to me?”
“He did.”
“Okay. Then you know I have no idea how the business works,” I stress the word. “If he gains new fans, that’s fine. But it won’t be because I’m window dressing. I didn’t come out here to parade around. I came to play.” I don’t need her thinking she can dress me up like a doll.
Roxanne’s professional expression turns into an approving one. “Good.” She steps to my side, wraps her arm around my waist, and starts to usher me toward the baggage carousels. “I was worried when Dean said you’ve never toured. The last thing I have time to do is babysit you. I don’t need you breaking down on me.”
“You were concerned?”
“The pressure can be stressful,” she says. “There are new people and new temptations. You’re in a new place every other day. I don’t need you getting emotional. My instincts tell me you’ll only do that when necessary. You won’t allow anyone to run over you. That’s important.”
“I wasn’t planning any emotions other than nerves.”
“Trust me,” Roxanne leans closer, “there will be plenty of feelings. Just try to act on them in a positive way. Remember, there are cameras everywhere. Are you on social media?”
I think I know what she’s getting at. “I’m not going to make a fool of myself, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
She gives me a curt nod. “Not anymore.”
We step up to a conveyor belt of traveling bags. “Let’s get your stuff and get moving.” Roxanne consults her vibrating phone. “Paul and Drew are already at the hotel.”
Once we find our belongings, we walk outside to where our driver parked a sleek black town car in a reserved space. He helps load everything into the trunk, and then I get in the back with Roxanne while Dean sits up front. Once we leave the airport the ride is stop and go. Traffic is unbearable, even after seven p.m. I stare out the window and pick at my muffin, realizing the time difference. In Chicago it would be after nine. Since I’m trapped in the car, I find my phone and send a group text to my brother, Jules, Gwen, and Latson to let them know I landed safely.
By the time we pull up to the hotel, it’s late evening. Roxanne gave me her contact information, I’ve given her mine, and we’ve gone over our agenda for the next few days. I also received a message from everyone back home. Oliver sent me a picture of a horse’s rear end and one of his own nose. Latson said it was his attempt at a selfie. I also got a nice shot of the two of them wearing paper crowns. It made me smile.
While we’re unloading our bags, Roxanne hands a key card to Dean and then one to me. “You’re both on the same floor as Paul and Drew,” she explains. “I’m one below. Feel free to call if you need anything.”
We head inside and when the elevator stops at her floor, Roxanne says goodnight and she’ll see us at rehearsal tomorrow. When we get to our level, a guy walking past the elevator door stops in his tracks.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” He grins. “You made it.”
“Hey, Drew.” Dean steps out of the elevator and they give each other a one-armed man hug. “Jen, this is Drew. Drew, Jen.”
“Hi,” I say as I struggle to pull my suitcases around Dean’s.
“The new guitar player, right?” Drew asks. “Here.” He leans forward to grab one of my bags. “Let me help.”
“Thanks.” I smile and move to the side. Drew is slightly taller than me with clear blue eyes and a little scruff on his chin. I catch a glimpse of a tattoo peeking out from beneath his shirt sleeve. It looks like a skull. “You’re the drummer.”
He nods. “My reputation precedes me. What rooms are you two in?”
“Ummm …” I twist the key around in my hand. “408.”
“410 here,” Dean says.
“I’m across the hall with Paul, 409 and 411.” Drew starts to walk. “Welcome to home sweet home.”
We make it to my door which isn’t far from the elevator. When I step inside my room, I find the typical hotel set up with a king size bed, a dresser with a television, and a small desk with a coffee pot sitting on the corner. I pull my suitcase over near the window and set my guitar case on the bed. Drew stops just inside the doorway. “Do you guys have plans? Paul and I were going to head downstairs for a beer.”
My stomach growls. “If there’s food involved I’m in,” I say. “Just give me a second to get situated.”
“Great. I’ll let him know and be back in a few.”
He closes the door, and I lift one of my suitcases on to the bed to unzip it. As soon as I open my bag I see the shirt Latson added to my things. Smiling, I unfold the I licked it so it’s mine tee. I start to laugh when I see a few changes. Latson used a black Sharpie and crossed out the words “I” and “mine”, so the shirt now says Latson licked it so it’s his. Of course it smells like him, and I hold it to my nose and breathe deep. I needed this. Between the flight, meeting Roxanne, her stupid comment, and the long drive, it calms me. I know what I’ll be sleeping in tonight.
Just as I start to unpack, my phone rings.
“Excellent timing,” I say. “I just found your stowaway t-shirt.”
Latson laughs. “What do you think? I thought maybe I could make a bunch and sell them.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“So, how are things going?”
“Good, I guess.” I sigh and plop down on the bed. “Roxanne’s different. How was Medieval Times?”
We get lost in conversation and I sit there, sorting through clothes, before the adjoining door between my room and the next opens. Apparently, my side wasn’t locked. Dean sticks his head around the corner. “Cool. Our rooms are connected.”
“Is that Dean?” Latson asks.
“Yep. Do you want to talk to him?”
“No. I’ll catch up with him later.”
Dean continues to stand there and I feel awkward. “Hey,” I say. “You can’t just come in here whenever you want. What if I was changing?”
He looks surprised. “It didn’t even cross my mind. Sorry.”
“What’s your ass sorry for now?” Drew appears behind him. “Are we ready to go or what?”
“Who is that?” Latson asks.
“Drew,” I say. “We’re supposed to go downstairs for a drink. I was just –”
“Jennnnnn!”
This must be Paul. He strides around both Dean and Drew and over to me. “Would you hurry it up? I’m fucking thirsty.”
He jumps on to the bed with both feet and hops up and down, throwing me off balance. “Stop!” I laugh.
“Are they all in in your room?” Latson sounds annoyed on the other end of the line.
“Yes, and they’re uninvited.” I move the phone away from my mouth. “Go. I’ll catch up.” I wave them away.
“Okay, okay,” they mumble and walk back into Dean’s room. “We’ll save you a seat.”
Once they leave I lock the adjoining door. It’s like living with my brothers again. “They’re gone,” I say. “Where were we?”
“I think you were going out.”
Latson sounds disappointed and my stomach sinks. “I’m not going out. I’m going to eat. There’s a difference.”
“I know.” Silent seconds pass before his tone changes. “Don’t let me keep you. Go. Meet the band. I have to get Oliver to bed anyway.”
He’s not fooling me. I know the guys bug him, but there’s nothing I can do. “Tell O I said goodnight.” I reach for my carry-on bag and find his drawing. I need a place for it. “I’ll call you after rehearsal tomorrow.”
“Sounds good,” Latson says.
When we hang up, I prop Oliver’s drawing on the bedside table, so I can see it all the time. I take a picture of it, then send it to Latson. Maybe it will make him feel better.
So you can tuck me in too, I type.
I wish, he sends back.
Chapter Nineteen
“Stop! Stop! Stop!”
Dean waves his arms like he’s directing air traffic. My hands still and my guitar goes silent.