Awake at All Hours?”
Yanking the card free, I shoved it deep in my jeans. “It doesn't matter how far apart you put us. If I want to see her, I'll do it."
“I'm just trying to encourage you to get some sleep. You guys have a huge final show, especially with this new song and all. How's that coming, by the way?”
An arm circled my neck to pull me into a rough hug. “I heard it earlier,” Colt said, shaking me playfully. “It sounded great. Tell him to add some drums though, would you? Brenda? Please?”
“As if he'd listen to me,” she snorted.
Struggling out of the choke-hold—and making Colt grunt from a light rib punch as I went—I said, “Give me a break. I don't want other instruments in this song.”
“Man, it's fine.” Palming the back of his head, the drummer winked. “I'm kidding around. For real, I guess I just miss jamming with you. Even if you always wrote the songs, you at least listened to my input when we were kids.”
I flushed at his honesty. I guess we did create stuff together when we were younger. Was I shortchanging my friends by cutting them out of the process? When had I gotten so insulated in my music? Softly, I said, “After the tour, we should work on a new CD. All of us.”
Porter joined us, one fist full of hotel mints that occasional dropped to the floor. “Love that idea. But you know what I'd love more?” The hard, white candies crunched like pottery in his teeth. “Some lunch.”
Shaking her thick mane of hair, Brenda pushed us towards the elevator. “Agreed. Enough sappy stuff, let's order some room service. You guys are going to lose it when you see the private suite I have.”
“Why do you get all the cool stuff?” Porter whined.
“Because I deserve something nice for dealing with you jerks!”
To be fair to Brenda, our rooms were fine. They even had some nice flat screens on the walls. But, in the end, we still gawked at the suite she proudly walked us into.
One section was an open-air patio, a private jacuzzi taking up half of it. Brenda grinned proudly, asking us to get comfortable while she made a phone call. It must have been to the kitchen, because quick as anything, several servers arrived with a selection of cloches on rolling carts. “Gentlemen,” she said, waving grandly. “It's now, officially, time to relax.”
Food came and went, my band mates chomping away until they couldn't fit anything else in their stomachs. I managed to work down something, but my appetite was poor enough that I didn't even remember what it was.
We really did need to relax together. Granted, I wasn't very relaxed, but Porter and Colt were goofing off with Brenda. Alcohol helped ease the strain of the tour. There was appreciation in Porter's voice when he held a beer can high, saying, "One more show, boys. We killed this fucking tour."
It wasn't over yet... but I suspected he was right.
We'd given a hell of a tour.
The sky above warping from watercolor red to brackish blues, evening sinking upon us. Porter grunted, standing with a mild sway. "I'm burnt, I'm going to sleep."
"I'm not as lame as Grandpa here," Colt said, following him. "But... I think I'll head to my room and test out the mattress. See you two." He waved, so I joined him absently. My mind was elsewhere, and suddenly alone with my rather quiet and slightly drunk manager, I felt the weight of my day.
Lola hasn't called me once.
“She's fine,” Brenda said, too good at figuring me out. Standing tall, she stretched her arms over her head and yawned. “Let her have some space, she needs it.”
Lifting an eyebrow, I shifted on the edge of the chair. The last of my beer washed over my tongue, giving me time to consider my response. “How would you know?”
“I just do.” Without any lead up, she yanked her shirt over her head. I wasn't shocked; she'd been talking about the jacuzzi all day. In a bright green bikini, my manager slipped into the tempting, circular pool. “Here, just come and try to chill out for once.”
“I don't really think it'll help.”
“Suit yourself.” Dipping in the water to her chin, she pointed at the bucket of champagne—the fourth one—that she'd ordered. “Can you get that for me?”
My knees popped as I stood. I'm feeling like an old man. I was too young to have so many aches and