* * * *
James caught himself before his temper ignited at the obvious innuendo. “They’re tired too. We’re all tired. How are we supposed to write anything new at this pace? I’m waking up every morning with no fucking clue where I am, Aaron.” He paused and glanced over at Ian, who gave him a small, encouraging smile. “Let me rephrase this in terms you’ll understand. Either I get a whole year or I get a new manager.” James drained his cup, slammed it down with a sharp bang and stood. “My contract is up in July, you have until then to figure something out.”
Aaron jumped up and held out his hands in supplication. “James, there’s no need to work yourself up like this. Let me take a look at what’s coming up and see what I can work out for you. Please, sit down and have some more coffee.” He stepped around the desk to pour it himself and, James sat back down much to Aaron’s undisguised relief. The manager fled back behind his desk and began flipping rapidly through his calendar, mumbling to himself. “You know that your health and well-being come first. I had no idea you were this stressed out. You should have come to me sooner and not waited so long to speak up.”
James snuck another glance at Ian, who suppressed a smile and scratched his neck below his right ear. He’s lying, that scratch said.
James marveled at that little parlor trick, making a mental note to ask how it was done later. Thusly armed, he turned his attention once more to Aaron and pressed the issue. “So you had no idea that playing five or six shows a week for months on end would eventually become a strain?” he snapped, his tone biting and sarcastic. “Def Leppard once played three shows on three continents in a twenty-four-hour period, but that is a record I do…not…want. I am tired, Aaron, are you hearing me?”
The agent flinched and tried again. “Let me see what I can move around for you.”
Scratch. Still lying.
James gave his head a vigorous shake, sending his auburn hair flying. “I need to complete my degree before I turn twenty-five and the online courses I take on the road aren’t doing it quickly enough. One or two full-time semesters would go a long way.”
Aaron’s look was eloquent. Oh Christ, just kill me now. “Why do you have to get your degree? If it’s that important to you, I’m sure we can get you set up with tutors or something to travel with you…” he offered lamely.
With a noncommittal shrug James replied, “It’s a personal family thing, and that’s not the point. I’m not getting the credits fast enough, plus if it comes down to working calculus or heading to the after party, which one do you think wins? I’m only human, you know.” He flashed his most brilliant smile at the now-sweating man behind the desk. “I’m certain you’ll do the best you can. Just let me know what you work out.” He took a long sip of the coffee and helped himself to a pecan roll, ate it in two bites then licked his fingers. “You do understand, though, that I am serious about this.”
Aaron nodded. “I understand. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. I’m certain we can work all this out to our mutual satisfaction.”
Scratch.
James stood and nodded once to Ian, who moved toward the door. Aaron cleared his throat uncomfortably as he thrust his hand forward and said, “Good seeing you, James.” James gripped it and shook, then turned and left the office with Ian close on his heels.
In the elevator, James and Ian were shaking their heads over the encounter with the music executive. “Bloody hell, some things never change. Doesn’t he ever tell the truth?” Ian snickered.
“When it suits him,” James smiled. “Thanks for going with me. It kinda…gave me strength, you know?”
It was Ian’s turn to smile as he regarded his little brother. “Anytime,” he said softly.
“And now,” James laughed, his light brogue thickening comically, “‘tis high time I’m rewardin’ ye for going to all this trouble on me behalf.” With a soft ding, the elevator arrived at the lobby where the limousine waited. “I’ve arranged us a wee bit of entertainment for the afternoon since I have the whole glorious day off.”
Ian visibly cringed at his words. “No women,” he said firmly. “I’m not getting myself in trouble with my girl just because you’re footloose for the–”
“No women, what with you being nearly married and all.”
“Well, that’s all right then…what did you have in mind?” His elder brother’s eyes positively danced with excitement.
James laughed. “So tell me, boyo. What size wetsuit are you wearing these days?”
The brothers Kelly, along with a couple of band members, assorted roadies and bodyguards headed for Cherry Grove and a riotous afternoon of surfing under the early spring sun. A storm building offshore sent in an obliging northeasterly wind, and it kicked the surf up to a respectable, rideable height. The afternoon passed quickly, and at sunset the tired surfers headed back to the hotel to regroup and get ready for an evening out on the town.
After dinner at one of the local seafood restaurants, thoughts turned to more exciting pursuits. With a small fleet of limos at their disposal, the gradually expanding group headed for the area hotspots. Several drinks after arriving at the pulsating 2001 nightclub, Ian grew noticeably uncomfortable and pulled James aside, talking loudly over the blasting dance music.
“Look…this is grand and everything, but if you don’t mind, I think I’m going to head back to the hotel. I’m just…em…”
James grinned and finished the sentence for him. “…missing your lady love.”
“Aye, that’s it exactly.” Ian nodded, coloring slightly.
“Off with you, then. Our car’s out front. Just tell the driver to take you back, then come for us later.” James winked at several young women staring open-mouthed at him from two tables over and said, “You’ll be sorely missed, but I shall endeavor to entertain myself in your absence, brother.”
Ian laughed. “I imagine you will. Just be careful. Keep ‘em close.” His gaze flickered around, taking in the half dozen bodyguards doing an admirable job of blending into the partying crowd while still managing to stay within an arm’s length of James.
“Always,” James assured him, waving as Ian turned and left.
He watched his big brother pick his way through the gyrating crowd en route toward the door, oblivious to the hungry looks from the women he passed. Ian was happier than James had ever seen him. He drained the rest of his Long Island iced tea. Maybe one day he would find somebody to make him feel like that. His reverie was broken as a sultry female voice cut into his thoughts.
“Oh. My. God. Are you really James Kelly?”
He turned to face the source and saw spiky black hair, a pretty face, long legs, and suspiciously buoyant breasts encased in a low cut spandex dress. She’ll do for a bit, he thought absently, giving her his patented roguish grin. “Why, yes, yes, I am. And who might you be, darlin’?” he said as he offered her his arm, leading her toward the bar and the waiting drink that would hopefully ease the emptiness fast overtaking him.
It was just after one in the morning when the revelers arrived back at the oceanfront resort hotel and gathered in the drummer’s suite to continue the party. James managed to pry off the drunken black-haired groupie and led her to a lanky man with long blond hair. “Have you met our guitar player?” he asked. “This is Bryce. Bryce, allow me to introduce the lovely Cheri.”
The tall guitarist cast a sideways grin at James and replied in a thick Welsh accent, “Pleasure’s all mine, luvvy.” Cheri made a moue of her mouth and offered her hand, fully aware she was being passed off. She sighed, resolutely turning her full attention to her new companion. Giving Bryce a wink, James slipped out unnoticed and headed down the hall