Chasing the Music: For the Love of Music Book 0.5 Page 3

  Familiar…

  There was something familiar, resting in your eyes… And then line after line started to topple over in her head. Her brain wouldn’t shut down until she got it on paper.

  “Noooo,” Lita groaned as she rolled over. Why was the bed so much softer and lovelier in the morning?

  Bridget sat next to her and rubbed her back.

  “How are you awake?” Lita croaked. It used to be so unnerving to have someone come into her room to wake her up, but she’d long since given up on privacy.

  “Because I went to bed last night instead of staying up writing songs. Am I right?” Bridget stopped rubbing her back and Lita tensed. The next step would be Bridget jerking off the blankets exposing her to the carefully conditioned air. That was the routine.

  Lita closed her eyes more tightly and clutched the down comforter to her chest. “You’re right.” She could still hear the papers crinkling with every movement on the bed, so it’s not like she could deny it.

  “I brought you hot coffee. We have to do final fittings of your costumes, and I have a croissant because you didn’t eat much last ni—”

  “Outfits,” Lita interrupted. She didn’t want to sound costumed. It went along with the idea that she had to play dress-up to fit in. She just wanted to fit in. “And I lost my appetite after watching The Tonight Show.”

  “It wasn’t that bad,” Bridget argued.

  Her gut shriveled. “He basically called me a tramp in his monologue.”

  “Great.” Bridget jerked on the blanket. “Maybe it’ll up the male population at your shows—not that you need any help getting their attention.”

  Lita groaned. “I don’t want attention. Well…that’s crap.” She smirked. “I totally want attention.” She just had to find a way to deflect or use the “man-eating” reference from The Tonight Show.

  “Okay.” Bridget patted her back again. “Up. Now. Or I’ll have to get brutal.”

  Lita huffed before sliding slowly to sitting and clutching the coffee her friend held out.

  She blew across the lid, knowing how lucky she was to have Bridget. “Thanks for putting up with me.”

  Bridget leaned against her friend, resting her head on her shoulder. “Only ‘cause I love you.”

  “And because I pay you so well.” Lita chuckled.

  “It might factor in,” she teased.

  Lita stared at the top of the cup unable to name a single person she’d seen or talked to in weeks that wasn’t paid by her or somehow profiting from the “Lita James” brand. It left a sick feeling in her gut that had very little to do with how hungry she was.

  “You don’t even have to be presentable.” Bridget stood. “Just throw something on.”

  Lita forced a smile at her PA. “Surely you know me better than that.”

  “Since you decided to get all done up.” Bridget gestured to Lita’s red lips, sunglasses and carefully messed hair. “I tipped the paps.”

  Nerves twisted in her stomach, but all she had to do was channel the girl who had gotten her the win at Battle of the Bands—the badass rocker her mom had been.

  “So, out the front doors then?” Lita asked as the elevator opened into the main lobby.

  Bridget adjusted her bag on her shoulder. “That’s the way.”

  Lita did a ridiculous duck face before relaxing her lips. They looked a bit extra pouty that way, and that was what was expected. Her insides shrank under the stares in the lobby, and her bodyguard, Apelu, moved next to her rather than behind. He was around so much, she barely noticed him anymore.

  Questions from photographers hit her the second she stepped into the LA heat.

  “...Lita, what about Chandler...the new show...Carmen who worked for you...allegations...The Tonight Show…”

  Every word slammed into her, and she tapped the side of her sunglasses. “What about the tonight show?” She turned toward the man who’d asked.

  “I wanted to know if you had a response?”

  Lita shifted her weight to one leg, crossing her arms, knowing it would expose a sliver of stomach. “To which part exactly?” She slipped off her sunglasses and the camera clicks pounded again and again, flashing over each other.

  “The comment about—”

  “I believe he said something about man eater?” she interrupted, swallowing down bile. And then she smiled—a full-on wide smile that didn’t quite fill her face. One she’d had to practice to get just right. “I think that means he wants to be next.” And then she snapped her teeth together in what she thought was absurd, but knew would match what people expected. Laughing, she slid her glasses back on and moved toward the waiting car.

  Another wave of pictures and questions swirled around her, pounding into her head.

  Apelu closed the door, and she flopped against a laughing Bridget.

  “You think he wants to be next. Dammit I love you.” Bridget snorted again.

  Lita folded one leg over another. “I need a nap.”

  “Not today, dear.” Bridget tapped on her phone. “But we can snag you some more caffeine.”

  “That’ll work.”

  It was the fourth time the guitar had slid out of tune, after a shit day where all her stage outfits were marked to be taken in, and where everyone seemed to be re-tweeting that ridiculous face she made when her teeth clamped together. Some called it hot. Some called it expected. Some said she was a big whore.

  She was not in the mood for practice to be anything but perfect.

  “Ryker! For shit’s sake! Why is my guitar still doing this?”

  “Sorry.” He sprinted from the side of the stage. “I’ll tink with it tonight. Fix it up.”

  “And where is this magic brother of yours?” Lita snapped. She didn’t have time to stop and re-tune her guitar. Not now. Not with another day down the tubes. Not with being days away from tour.

  “Should be here any second.”

  Ryker held out his hand for her guitar.

  “I can tune the thing, Ryk.” She slumped, the guitar hanging lower and glanced behind her. “The problem is that we’re wasting everyone’s time.”

  “Lita.” Dave, the tour manager, leaned forward in his chair. “You don’t have to be the one playing.”

  Humiliation sent heat up her neck, but she was determined not to show it. She knew she wasn’t as good as the professionally trained musicians who made up her band, but there was no reason for him to call her out like that. “I’m. Aware.”

  She stared down and plucked the strings until the guitar was back in tune again.

  Taz, the lead guitarist, shifted the strap of his guitar. He’d probably love it if Lita weren’t playing anymore. The band was assigned to her by the label. She’d had nothing when she won battle of the bands almost three years ago. Just her. They changed all that, and it needed to be changed, but she felt outclassed all the time. She didn’t know the guys in her band as well as she should. But how much could they possibly like her when they played night after night for a girl years younger than them? On top of the awkward age gap, they felt temporary. They’d all shifted in and out and been interchanged with other musicians over the past few years.

  “Okay.” She pushed out a breath as she stepped up to the mic. “We’ll start with Up to You.”

  Garrett tapped his sticks in perfect rhythm and Taz did the opening riff, the one Lita kept screwing up. “A few things… You need to know… The other night…was not what I sold…to you… up to you…”

  On the sixth line, her guitar slipped out of tune again. They weren’t going to get anywhere. All the slams from the Tonight Show and Carmen’s article spun in her head.

  “This is shit.” Lita jerked out the plug and let her guitar fall to the stage.

  No.

  Lita held her breath, her heart thrumming. She tightened her jaw to keep her reaction in, but her stomach wobbled. She could maintain control of herself at the very least. But she couldn’t deal if something happened to her mom’s guitar. Pressing her
fingers to her forehead, she stared at the stage for a moment.

  “We’re done, I think,” she spat trying to hide the frantic worry over the possible results of her fit on the guitar. Her chest tightened so hard, she had to concentrate to pull in a breath. Maybe she needed another coffee. “We’re not getting anywhere.”

  Dave sighed but she knew he wouldn’t say anything. He was a hard-ass when he needed to be, but that wasn’t the time. They’d spoken earlier and almost called off practice that night anyway with how much insanity she’d had that day.

  “First show in five days!” Dave stood and clapped twice. “We’ll be good. Everyone be ready for a long haul tomorrow.”

  There were a few murmurs and she nodded at the guys as they left the stage.

  Lita knelt and picked her mom’s guitar off the floor. Tears pressed behind her eyes as she saw a crack in the shiny red enamel.

  Damn it.

  She shoved out a frustrated breath because it was better than crying.

  A distinct feeling of being watched settled over Lita and she snapped her head up to see a guy who was very definitely Ryker’s brother. Not as tall or broad but much cuter. Dark brown hair that thankfully rested unspiked. Soft brown eyes, toned, tanned arms, and…just...nice. Very nice.

  His weight shifted, and he wore a stunned look as he continued to stare.

  Oh hell. Her tight chest dropped to the floor.

  A fan.

  “You Griffin?” she asked.

  He nodded and Ryker slapped the back of Griffin’s head, finally averting his stunned stare.

  “About time you got here.” Lita stalked his way and shoved the guitar at him. “It’s Mom’s. Fix it.” It’s Mom’s? How had that come out?

  “Uh...yeah…I...I can take… I can take care of it…” he stammered. Even in the stammer she heard Hick-Town, Georgia loud and clear. Great.

  She stepped around him. “I’m so done with today.”

  He started to say something else but Lita pushed out the side door where security was waiting to take her back to the hotel. It’s Mom’s? Really. What the hell? He was sure to think she was some kind of crazy bitch, but whatever. It was better than crying in front of the new guy over a crack in her guitar.

  “Apelu,” she said. “Please tell me Bridget got coffee, and that it’s waiting in the car.”

  He smirked, his huge Samoan face pulling almost instantly into a grin. Apelu was a teddy bear, but the guy was huge and looked ferocious when he wanted to, or needed to. “The girl knows ya. Rough day?”

  Dave slipped into the car behind Lita. He’d want to talk strategy or give her a pep talk, none of which she wanted. His phone rang, he gave Lita the ‘one minute’ sign and began chatting. Hopefully the call would last through the ride to the hotel. Seriously, next time she was in LA, she had to get a real place to live. Living in hotels was getting so old, and her beach condo was too far out of town. There also wasn’t enough space or security.

  She pressed her hand against her chest as if it would somehow loosen the tension.

  Lita closed her eyes and saw Ryker’s brother again. She really hoped he could fix that guitar. She didn’t know how to perform without it. And why couldn’t he be hideous? Fat or lumpy or old...

  She should be thinking about Chandler Morse. He wasn’t her actual boyfriend, just a friend, but all the magazines had been reporting how in love they were. Lita’s sales had gone up, and he’d gotten two movie offers in the week since the simmering story exploded because of a hug. He deserved an email or something, just to see if anything else had happened for him. Maybe they’d find some kind of spark that wasn’t there the last time she saw him. Maybe she didn’t care if there was a spark if it meant she wouldn’t have to sleep alone. He’d understand her crazy schedule. Worth thinking about.

  Her phone buzzed and she jerked it out, her heart racing in the hopes her dad had found time to call.

  Bridget: In room. See you in a few.

  Her dad was busy. That’s all.

  Apelu’s voice pulled her back to the present. “You’re quiet tonight. That’s cool.” He chuckled. “Does this mean I get to pick the music?”

  She flipped him off and rolled her eyes. She needed someone to give her crap. Even though he was another person paid to be in her presence, Apelu was awesome.

  “Let’s go out to dinner,” Bridget said the second Lita stepped into her hotel room. “I’m ready to be seen a little. Or at least you should be out there and being seen before we take off. And for something other than retaliating over The Tonight Show thing.”

  Lita tossed her leather jacket to the couch. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m so not in the mood.”

  “Sorry I disappeared. Dave’s assistant called while you guys were playing, and it was too loud for me to get some of your stuff set up, so I—”

  Lita waved her off again. “You don’t need to babysit me. I’m fine.”

  She twisted her hair and pulled it off her neck, shoving a few pins in it to keep it there, and then shook out her long bangs again to hang over her face.

  “Dinner?”

  She should want to go out and be seen. Should be pushing her album, but shoving through cameras for a meal wasn’t worth it. And who could eat with people taking pictures of them the whole time? Or staring? Watching with their judgmental eyes, just waiting for her to screw up. “I don’t know.”

  “How did rehearsal go? You guys finished earlier than I thought.”

  Rehearsal had been worthless.

  “Oh!” Lita stopped. “Griffin? Ryker’s brother? Total fan. I saw it all over his face. That shit makes me crazy. He should be here to work, not ogle.”

  “Did he do something?” Bridget asked with narrowed eyes.

  Lita thought for a moment trying to put it into words. “No. It’s not that. It’s that look… That look like I’m magical or something. The look that says…” But she stopped. It was the look that told her she’d disappoint him like so many others. People had this idea about who she was, and she had only a small idea of how to be whatever they thought they saw in her.

  “That says…?” Bridget prompted.

  “I forget.” Lita moved toward her hotel bathroom. “He’s cute though, so at least there’s that. And I still don’t know if I wanna go out.”

  “How cute?” Bridget called through the door.

  “Cute enough to be distracting!”

  “Nice.”

  She didn’t bother answering.

  Lita stared at herself in the mirror. Pale skin, dried-out blond hair, and too big eyes… Dark circles, odd freckles, a canine tooth that stuck out just a little too far. Maybe she didn’t want to go out.

  She saw Griffin’s expectant face like she was something magical, something she’d never be…

  Her stomach tightened. No. He was here to work. He worked for her. She didn’t have to worry about letting him down or disappointing him. He was a nobody.

  She stood in front of the mirror and set her phone on the counter, realizing her dad still hadn’t called.

  How busy could one man be?

  Griffin’s face flashed in her mind with that awestruck expression, followed by her dad’s frown, followed by Carmen’s words, followed by her missteps in rehearsal, followed by The Tonight Show, followed by the Twitter backlash from her comments that morning… They wound and wound and wound and wound, tightening everything inside her to breaking point. Her chest burned, and her stomach felt as if it had folded in on itself.

  Lita gasped for air and loosened the grip on the sink that she didn’t know she held. She shook out her hands and tried to slow her breathing, carefully not looking in the mirror. Okay. She moved back through the door and into her room.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Lita said. It was either that, or hide, and she wasn’t going to give in to that.

  Bridget’s face lit up. “Awesome.”

  Five

  Griffin’s hands trembled as he watched Lita walk out the side door. Lita J
ames. She’d spoken to him. He was holding her guitar. Lita. Fucking. James. Her guitar. In his hands.

  She was smaller than he thought, waves of blond hair and her classic “Lita James” bangs hanging over her face. And the leather pants. Just like he’d imagined, only he hadn’t arrived in time to hear her play. Not yet.

  But there was something else—a flash of uncertainty on her face before painting something else on as she looked up. Maybe it had been his imagination.

  “Wipe off the drool, moron.” Ryker shoved his brother.

  “Seriously, leave me alone.” Griffin turned, clutching the guitar.

  “You can fix this, right? Without taking the whole thing apart?” Ryker shifted a few times, which was a sure sign to Griffin that he had no idea what was wrong. “Because it keeps slipping out of tune, and without doing a serious rebuild, I’m not sure what else to do.”

  Ryker had shed his Georgian accent, which made Griffin much more aware of his.

  “I can fix anything,” Griffin said. “Show me where you keep your tools.”

  Ryker gestured to a corner of the stage area. “Everything is back here right now. It’s sort of makeshift, but it’ll be worse when we’re actually on the road.”

  “I can do this. I’m used to the trailer.” The one Griffin didn’t miss. At all.

  His phone beeped in another text. It would be Stacy. Again. Asking if he missed her. Again.

  How could he miss her when she dropped him a note every five minutes?

  He let out a sigh and forced himself to remember what her life had been like. An oddball mother, rotating fathers…a crazy aunt...

  Miss you tons He wrote. Already put me to work. I’ll call tonight.

  Her message back was almost immediate. xoxo baby. Let’s Facetime later. Wink. Wink.

  He loved his phone, but if this continued it wouldn’t be a break from his life, it would be doing it long-distance while trying not to screw up his new gig.