Faster by Deana Birch

Author:Deana Birch [Birch, Deana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Deana Birch

12

Grounded

* * *

JAKE

The stale air in Tucson did nothing to help me chill out. I dialed her number and said to the empty parking lot, “Here goes nothin’.”

“Louana Higgins.”

“Hey. Why so formal?” I paced around the tour bus.

“I’m in the car. I didn’t know it was you.”

“Who else would call you on a Sunday night at 11 p.m.?”

“Maybe Casey, Mario’s ex-wife, Bob, Fern, even… Could be anyone. A wrong number.”

“Okay, okay, point made. Bigger question is, why are you in the car?”

“I’m coming back from Venice. I had dinner with Casey.”

“Oh, cool.” No threat. The jealous beast in me went back to his room to play with his toy monster trucks.

“How was your craps game?” she asked.

“Oh my God. It was amazing. This grandpa from Detroit rolled for thirty minutes. I made two grand.”

“What? That’s insane.”

“I know.” I laughed. “Sam is so pissed at me. He had another bad night, morning, and afternoon at the blackjack tables.” Thank God he didn’t know about my bank account.

“Shit.”

“Yeah. We were all happy to get on the bus when Gina left at four.” Except John; he could have wallowed in the Vegas swamp until his toes pruned.

“Are you in Tucson?”

“Yup. Phil just checked us in. Sam and I are sharing the Chastity Suite.”

“What are you guys gonna do on your day off?”

“John got a hold of some mushrooms. We’re all going to do them and take some tram ride in a canyon.” Was it bad to tell her about the drugs? Shit. I was flushing myself down the toilet before I’d even got to the real reason I’d called.

“Sounds more fun than the day of meetings ahead of me tomorrow.”

Okay, saved. It was time to get to the point. “We’ll see. Speaking of meetings, we had one on the bus.”

“Yeah?”

Sirens sounded in the background from her end, and the omen didn’t help my courage.

“Well, we’ve been saying for a while that we need more original material. I mean, every night we play all the songs from the album and then have to do covers for the encore, or even if we want to change it up a bit. Writing on the bus has proven to be impossible for most of us, and even jams at sound check aren’t coming together.”

“Right, I get it. It’s why Mario blocks his Fridays. Writing takes concentration.”

“Exactly. We’re all too distracted by the grind of the tour to be creative.” I stopped walking in circles and picked at a sticker on the side of the bus.

“Must be frustrating.”

“Incredibly. So we had to make a decision to either come off the road or keep touring. Which wasn’t easy, because I’m really the only one making money from royalties. The rest of the guys are making their money from the tour, most of all Sam, who didn’t write anything on the album. And even the tour money isn’t amazing. I mean, it’s not like we’re selling out stadiums.”

“Yet,” she added. It was nice to know she believed in me. “So what did you guys decide?”

“We’re gonna come off the road after San Diego to write.

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