“Ariel needs extra time. She wants me to stall.” I give him a panicked look. “She wants me to play.”
His eyes grow wide. “Are you okay with that?”
“Do I have a choice?”
The three of us make it backstage where I’m hooked up with everything I just took off. “Just go out there, introduce yourself, and play,” Mason says as Roxanne comes running up.
“What in the hell is going on here?” Her eyes shoot daggers.
“Don’t worry, Roxy. I’m not stealing your talent.” Mason looks me over, making sure I have everything. “Last minute schedule change, that’s all.”
“Why?”
“Ariel’s not feeling great. She needs a few more minutes.” Mason looks me in the eye. “You’re all set. I’ll tell you when it’s time to come off through your ear piece.” He gives me a little nudge toward the stage. “Please don’t suck,” I hear him mutter.
Oh my God. Am I really doing this?
“I’m going with you.” Dean grabs my hand, and I relax a little. He leads me toward the stage. “You’ve never performed alone before. What they’re asking isn’t fair. I’ll introduce you and stay close.”
“Thanks.” I squeeze his hand.
We walk out on to the darkened stage and the lights come up a bit. Dean lets go of me and waves as he makes his way to the mic. I stare out into the arena as I follow him and notice every seat looks filled. They’re waiting for Ariel.
Not me.
“Hello again, New Orleans,” Dean’s voice echoes. “Remember me?” He laughs and the crowd cheers. “I’m Dean McCarthy, in case you forgot.” He jerks his head, telling me to move closer. “This here is Jen Elliott. You saw her earlier, too, when she wailed on rhythm guitar with me and the boys.”
The people actually make noise for me, so I nod and smile.
“Ariel –”
The crowd erupts at the mention of her name. It’s deafening. Dean grins and claps with them, then gestures for them to calm down.
“Ariel will be out in just a few minutes,” he continues over the whistles and applause. “While you wait, she sent you someone special. She asked my friend Jen to entertain you. I promise you’re going to love her.”
He steps back, giving me the mic, and my head feels heavy. A low buzz sounds in my ears, and I start to feel nauseous. My heart pounds in my chest like it’s trapped in a cage. Don’t faint. Don’t faint. Don’t faint.
I manage to step up to the mic without keeling over. “Thanks, Dean. Hello, Louisiana.” My voice sounds thick and tense. I force a smile even though my legs feel weak. “I’m Jen, and this is ‘Fairytale’.”
The people continue to cheer. Not like they did for Ariel, but at least the majority sound polite. Adrenaline feeds my nervous energy, so I close my eyes and strum my guitar. I feel like heaving. I cannot throw up!
The sound of the instrument centers me, and the buzzing starts to fade. My heart continues to race, so I concentrate on the feel of the guitar in my hands. It gives me confidence, and I let the first notes flow through my fingers and onto my strings. I open my eyes, then I open my mouth and …
Sing.
Chapter Twenty Four
“Check this out.” Dean extends his hand to show me his phone. He taps the screen and a video of me starts to play.
“You taped me singing?” I try to steal his cell from him, but he’s too fast.
“Yep,” he says and holds it close to his chest. He starts typing. “I’m sending it to everyone we know riiiiiiiight …” He draws out the word as his thumbs fly over the screen. “Now.” He sets his phone down with a smirk.
I roll my eyes.
“Here we are.” Our smiling waitress appears. We’re seated at a high top table at a loud bar near the arena. She sets down four shots of Fireball, then hands out our other drinks. “I’ll be back to check on y’all in a few minutes.”
Drew and Paul waste no time reaching for the shots and passing them out. “To Jen!” Drew announces with his glass in the air. “On her first solo performance!”
“Hear, hear!” Dean and Paul chime in.
“You guys are dorks,” I say, but raise my glass just the same. We down the shots and slam the glasses on the table.
“I think we should add your song to our set. At least in Detroit,” Dean says. “Isn’t your family coming to that show?”
I nod. “I’m not sure if that makes me more or less nervous. I almost passed out tonight.” I’ve never felt a mixture of fear and excitement so strongly before.
“The more you do it the easier it will be,” Dean rationalizes. “You did great. Even the audience thought so.”
“They were being nice.”
“They didn’t have to be,” Paul says. “I’ve played for a few evil crowds. Those motherfuckers can turn on you like that.” He snaps his fingers.
I’m so glad that didn’t happen.
“Who’s up for darts?” Drew asks, eyeing an open board.
“I am,” Dean says. “Five bucks says you lose.”
“Five?” Drew scowls. “At least bet me enough to buy another beer.”
“Fine. Ten.”
Drew looks at me and points. “You’re playing next.”
I smile. “You’re on.” I haven’t played darts in years, but my parents used to have a board in the basement. I was decent against my brothers.
Dean and Drew leave the table, and I take a sip of my Kamikaze. It reminds me of Latson and his party when we formally met. If I knew then what I know now, I would have jumped that man immediately and taken him up on his offer of a private tour. We would have had four more weeks together before I left. I sigh. Hindsight is always 20/20.
“Jen.” Paul gets my attention. “I’m going to go hit on that blonde at the bar.” He looks over his shoulder. “Will you be okay here for a minute?”
“Just a minute?” My eyebrows shoot up. “You think that’s all it will take?”
“You know it is.” He winks at me before he stands. “I’ll be right back.”
Sure, I think as he walks away. This isn’t the first time I’ve witnessed his moves. If she shows any interest I won’t see him until morning.
I’m just about to get up to watch Drew and Dean when my phone buzzes against the table. I lean over and read a message from Gwen: I got Dean’s video. You go girl! So awesome!
I smile and reply: Thanks. It was a last minute thing.
Then, almost immediately, I get another text message from Jules: Holy shit! Are you the headliner now? Congrats! Oh, and Pete says you were lip synching. Don’t worry. I hit him for you.
I laugh. I miss those guys.
Just as I’m responding to Jules, a smooth voice says, “Spectacular show tonight. I’m glad I caught it.”
A body slides next to me and into Dean’s seat. I look up and mentally groan. “Caleb.”
“Jen.” He flashes his perfect smile and raises his hand, calling over a waitress. “I’ll take a Dewar’s straight, please.” He looks at me. “What would you like?”
My eyes dart to my nearly full glass. “I’m all set. Thanks.”
The waitress leaves, and Caleb turns his body and attention toward me. He’s dressed casually in a t-shirt and jeans; his dirty blonde hair left natural and un-styled. Unfortunately, I like this look on him. He appears approachable, more like a regular guy.
“I didn’t know you could sing like that,” he says.
I raise an eyebrow. “And I didn’t know you were stalking Dean across the fifty states.”
He laughs. “What if I am? I’m just doing my job.”
“Really?” I skeptically glance around the bar. “I don’t see any other label execs. In fact, I haven’t seen anyone other than you since we’ve been on tour. Why is that?”
“Snare Records is Ariel’s label.”
“But Dean’s a free agent.”
He smiles. “Why are you giving me such a hard time? Don’t you want Dean to get signed?”
“Sure I do. I’m just not sure you’re the best choice.”
Caleb loses his grin. “Because of what Gunnar told you?”
“Um, yes,” I say sarcastically and take a drink. I may need another one of these if he’s going to hang around.
“Look –”
The waitress interrupts him to deliver his scotch.