She-Rox: A Rock & Roll Novel (26 page)

Down in the basement, Eddie showed Todd the new material. He took the opportunity to record a few scratch tracks on Slade’s home studio while he had the chance. Pouring over chords, melodies, talking, hashing, Todd exclaimed “Okay, this is good, but you’ve got a lot of work. Give me a call when the others get some of these under their belt.”

“Sounds good,” Eddie said, and, reaching the top of the landing, they both went their separate ways to join the others.

Wondering how T.J. had fared in her absence, Eddie began the job of hunting her down, while Todd observed the door to Slade’s study open with the light on.

Hearing the light rapping of knuckles, Slade said, “C’mon in, I’m having a private party in here.” Holding up the heavy crystal goblet, he asked, “Care for a glass?” As Slade poured the red spirit, he wondered, “So, how did it go down there? Are you even remotely optimistic with what you heard?”

“If Eddie can get those other pop tarts to pull off these songs, record them, do a live show—the label could cash in.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yeah, but it’s a long shot.”

“You liked the songs then?”

“I like the songs,” Todd confessed.

“What if they bomb?”

“That could happen. But since the whole Exposure thing, they’ve been increasing in popularity, especially with that video. Some label will sign ‘em, throw ‘em out on the road, let them tour till they either scream for mercy or there’s a band mutiny.”

Eddie spied Raven flirting with K-House, “Hey, where’s T.J.?”

“She’s around here somewhere,” and turning back to K-House, Raven tuned Eddie out.

She continued through the house, turning a corner into the main dining room and ran into her.

“Where’s the mate to this shoe?” T.J. demanded, holding up the white sandal.

“Where’d you get that?” Eddie gasped.

“Oh, you
know
where I got it.”

“T.J., I swear I haven’t seen that thing since New Year’s Eve.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’ve been hearing around here. Is this another one of your “I’ll-tell-her-later” stories that I hear on the streets? Like the first time my brother asked you out on a date and you neglected to tell me? What’s going on around here?”

“I’ll tell you everything if you tell me where you got that shoe.”

“I got it from Miss Rocker Spaniel herself.”

“
Gretchen?”

“That bowwow ruined my dress!”

Seeing what was left of the food on the table, Eddie walked over to get something to eat and spied a huge glob scooped out of her once stunning piano cake. “What happened here?”

“Bad fashion and justice had a play date,” T.J. punctuated.

Tank came in with a passed out Ginger in his arms. “Hey, Friskie, can I put her down in your room?”

“Friskie,
who is Friskie?”

“I’ll explain later,” mumbled T.J. to Eddie.

“Boy, I have been gone a long time. Guess I’m not the only one with a restricted sense of communication.”

“Oh, Eddie, shut up.”

“Hey guys, she’s gettin’ heavy,” Tank urged.

“Up the stairs, turn left, second door on the right.”

T.J. and Eddie followed him up the stairs. Setting her down, Eddie asked, “Is she okay?”

“Well, let’s just say this little booze-head will definitely be hatin’ life tomorrow. The worst hangovers come from tequila and champagne.” Tank saluted and left.

Eddie smoothed Ginger’s blonde hair away from her face, saying “She’s going to have to stop this. Todd wants us to get our game face on. Who’s in our bathroom?”

“I believe its booze-head’s sister.

“What happened downstairs?”

“She ruined my New Year's creation so I wrecked her cheap knock-off.”

“
T.J!”

Gretchen blew out of the bathroom wearing a big white terrycloth bathrobe, telling no one. “Ah . . . that was one of the best showers I have ever had.”

The immense bathroom had a large shower with three jetted heads, a vanity with baroque fixtures, red crystal chandeliers, overstuffed chairs done in zebra print and a flat screen built into the wall—a haven.

She threw her damaged dress at the foot of the bed. Seeing Ginger passed out, she said, “I hate it when she gets like this.” She picked up the white sandal off the dresser and stared at it. “Eddie . . . Slade gave me this . . . to give to you . . . as a gift for your birthday. He also told me that I was supposed to return it with an apology. But,” she looked at T.J., “apparently, it belongs to you.”

She tossed it to T.J. and continued, “And I’m not going to lie. I don’t like you in this band. This is
my
band. I don’t like you dumping your music charts on us, I don’t like the power grabs, the dog tag stunt, double tracking my guitar leads, you staying here at Slade’s . . . and I really think this coy act you got going on is annoying. But,” she added, “I want a deal more. So, I’m sorry about the pool thing . . . and happy birthday.”

With a tight smile, Eddie remarked, “Well, that explains everything, except one . . . who’s Friskie?”

“It’s my roadie name,” T.J. smirked.

“You’re not a roadie. Roadies carry band equipment – you can’t even carry a tune, much less a four-twelve speaker cabinet. Why Friskie?”

“As in Frisco – Friskie-”

“I ain’t callin’ya that.”

“Me, either,” said Gretchen.

“Me, either,” came an inebriated voice out of the bedcovers.

Palo Alto, California, The Buddha Lounge, June 22, 2007, 12:12 A.M.

It was a muggy summer night as the two students found the exit of The Buddha Lounge. A pact had been made. Kai’s study group would all go out after finals. Kai was there because one partner, an Indian, Ashoka, who went by the name of “Ash,” suspected Kai would flake out, so he showed up at his doorstep, refusing to take “No” for an answer.

Kai had spent enough time watching co-eds dirty dance to “SexyBack” and was ready to leave. Ash drove him home. As they pulled into the parking lot, Nadia Hoffman was walking down the steps from Kai’s apartment. Seeing her through the windshield of his car, Ash ventured, “Uh, oh, somebody need a hump and dump.”

Kai laughed at Ash’s use of American colloquialism. “Nadia’s not the type that gets humped and dumped, Ash.”

“She’s not?”

“No, she’s not. Any girl that understands organic chemistry as well as she does isn’t the kind you hump and dump.”

“Booty call?” Ash wasn’t going to give up ‘til he got it right, which was precisely why he’d make a fine med student.

“That’s a distinct possibility,” Kai observed, as he climbed out of the car. “Thanks for the ride, buddy. See you after the fourth.”

As Ash pulled away, Kai came in to Nadia’s view.

Seeing him, she walked closer and took the liberty of wrapping her arms around his waist. “Hey, so, it’s finally over. How do you think you did?” she asked referring to the exam.

“You know, I don’t even want to think about that right now. All I want is to flip the off switch in my brain.”

“That’s a good idea.”

Nadia Hoffman matched Kai’s ambition. More importantly, Nadia was the kind of girl Kai always found himself attracted to: willowy, blonde, and classy.

Opening the door, Kai threw his keys down on a table and told Nadia, “C’mon in. I’ll be just a second.”

As he headed for the bathroom, Nadia walked in the familiar room. For the past two months, they had been getting to know each other, congregating at his apartment for their own private study group, the time stretching long into the late-night hours. The first time Nadia found herself waking up in Kai’s apartment, it was on his couch. The second time, it was his bed. She also remembered the awkwardness of that next morning.

“Can I get you something—breakfast, coffee?” he had asked.

“No thanks. I better get going.” Nadia noted the relief on his face, as she walked out the door, assuring Kai, no strings attached. His offer of breakfast was an attempt at being considerate, but Nadia knew better.

Done with his business, Kai dropped onto his couch, letting out a deep breath that seemed to release the stress that had been building for months.

Still standing, Nadia motioned to the kitchen asking, “Got anything to drink?”

“Oh, yeah, help yourself. The glasses are above the sink,” Kai instructed, as he relaxed.

Finding the glasses, Nadia laid eyes on Eddie’s Exposure cover. T.J. had taped it to the refrigerator.

Nadia never pegged Kai as the “Exposure: Male Entertainment” type and took it as a good sign, dying to once again, put her hands through his hair, feel the strength of his arms.

Joining him on the couch, he opened his eyes and directed, “Put that down.” Nadia set her glass on the small table and wrapped her long slim fingers around his neck and kissed him just below his ear as she laid her body up against his.

As he clasped his arms around her, she whispered into his ear, “I love a man who openly displays his desire for women.”

“Really,” Kai stirred. Kissing her full on the mouth, he then mumbled, “Display, how’s that?”

“The Exposure cover,” Nadia mewed.

Instantly, the image of Eddie in the pink suit flooded his brain, and Kai stopped. “Oh,” he exhaled, “
that
. That’s my kid sister’s best friend. It’s nothing.”