The Fire Walker (5 page)

"Ugh," I rolled my eyes. "Let's just get through this shoot. You know I'm my best on my own turf. I'll win her through music." I added a wink for good measure.

She gave me a half-smile as we joined the others. We had a photo shoot to endure this morning before going to sound check later on. Galaxy had wrangled us a last minute page in the upcoming issue of
Rolling Stone
and it had to be done today or not at all. Massive exposure, but one of my least favorite things to do. You think for someone with a vain streak like mine I'd be all over it like a rash, but I was hotter for a stage and an audience, not a single photographer. Numbers was where it was at.

We rode in two separate town cars over to the studio and the closer we got, the more my stomach churned and by the time we actually got there I was a quivering mess. The only thing that saved me from being found out was that everyone was excited about the gig later on. And when we inevitably ran into Georgie, it was sans Jessie and disappointment flared, stabbing me right where it hurt.

As soon as we were all there, we were dragged in separate directions and I didn't have time to dwell. Apparently we were on a tight schedule and I just wanted to get outta there. An overzealous Georgie pushed me into a chair in front of a mirror and I caught Zoe and Simone looking at me in the reflection, both of them stifling laughs. This wasn't funny by a mile and all it did was make my blood boil.

The redheaded stylist grimaced at me as if she already knew what I was about to endure and I offered her a thin smile. Hurricane Georgie was at a category five and there was no indication she'd stop anytime soon.

"Now," Georgie declared, "hair messy and slicked back." She took this as an excuse to run both her hands back through my hair, her eyes fixed on mine in the mirror. How the hell couldn't she see that I was looking back with a mixture of horror and revulsion?

"And this stubble has to go," she said, running a hand over my jaw.

Shit, I was just sitting there like a deer caught in the headlights of the Georgie show while she pawed me like a horny teenager. I was way too nice to tell her hands off. A snort came from behind and I glared at Zoe in the mirror. Frank and Chris had joined them and they were all red faced, trying to keep their laughter in check. Fucking traitors. They were enjoying my suffering and the jokes I'd have to endure afterwards would be epic.

"Okay, got it," the stylist said, moving forward and she let me go. Sweet, sweet freedom.

It went like that for much of the shoot. To my annoyance, Georgie only seemed to have eyes for me and not Frank as she took it upon herself to arrange us just so. Even the photographer seemed to be annoyed at her, but at least she got results. We only had a couple of hours before we had to leave for sound check and she whipped everyone into top gear. Every other shoot we'd been on had lasted the best part of a day and this was a whirlwind compared to those.

"No, no, no!" Georgie walked towards us, waving her hands like some kind of banshee. "This isn't working. Where's the stylist? Zoe,
darling
, come here."

Zoe squeezed my hand as she was pulled across the studio, her eyes betraying the fact that she was trying to hold back laughter.

"We need to change her outfit," Georgie was saying to the flustered woman who was styling the shoot.

"Okay everyone," the photographer sighed dramatically like he was saying
not again
. "Take a break."

Sagging my shoulders in relief, I walked straight over to the pot of instant coffee that was set up on a wonky trestle table and poured a styrofoam cup to the brim.

"You know Georgie is making sexy eyes at you?" Simone whispered in my ear.

I groaned. "Don't remind me."

"Do I need to do something?" She was my friend, but she was still our manager and had a duty to look out for us professionally. There was no need to get worked up about it. We'd be done with the face-to-face tomorrow, but Jessie was also included in that equation and I wasn't ready to be done with her.

"No. She'll be gone tomorrow."

"That's pretty blatant sexual harassment." 

I snorted. Dobbing in the over-enthusiastic Marketing Manager? There goes my manhood.

"Don't sound so enthused."

I rose my eyebrows at her.

"You and…" she began, but I clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Nothing happened," I said. "Keep your lips zipped, S."

Peeling my hand away, she laughed. "Okay, but keep an eye on the cougar. She's on the prowl."

"I don't know if I should be flattered or scared shitless," I groaned. "Why doesn't she go after Frank?"

"Because he's an acquired taste." Simone winked and took a few steps backward. "Eyes on the prize, Cosgrove."

Rolling my eyes, I waved her off and downed my cup of lukewarm coffee and made a face. Caffeine was caffeine.

"Okay," Georgie yelled, clapping her hands. "Places."

The photographer went nuts after that, flashing bulbs and elbowing Georgie out of the way when she got too close. All in all it was about fifteen minutes and we were done. Everyone had had enough of Georgie, but Georgie didn't seem to notice. I'd known the woman all of a day and already I knew I'd be glad to see the back of her.

They'd dressed us in Calvin Klein Hugo GAP whatever and the first chance I got I slipped away to change back into my own stuff. I didn't care for labels and fashion that much. Of course I knew image had a lot to do with a band, but shit, our image was nonchalance. Pulling on my own black jeans and boots, I yanked off the shirt and t-shirt the stylist had given me and reached for my own. That's when the door opened.

Tuning around, I expected to see Chris or Frank, but my mind instantly cursed on my behalf.
Shit, fuck, ass
.

"I'd hoped I'd get a chance to talk to you alone before the concert tonight," Georgie said, slinking over to me.

I had no shirt on and suddenly I felt my skin prickle. Not in a good way, either. As I went to pull on my t-shirt, she slid her hands on my wrists, stopping me.

"Georgie…"

"How about it?" she asked, her hands moving across my skin to my waist. "We've got time."

Yeah, maybe I should have been more assertive the night before instead of getting Jessie to save me. If I'd been less of a pussy, then maybe I wouldn't be in this situation right now.

Grabbing her wrists, I pried her hands from around my waist. "Not gunna happen."

"Are you sure?" she purred and I had to stop myself from visibly cringing. Women like her, who thought they could win over every guy with sex, turned me off.

"Positive." I let her go, pulling my t-shirt on and grabbing my jacket from the back of the chair.

"It's Jessie, isn't it?" she scoffed. "You want to fuck her, don't you?"

The way she said her name fuelled my annoyance into an inferno. She'd said it like she was some kind of pathetic ant she wanted to squash under her boot. She didn't seem to think much of her intern who seemed to put up with a lot of shit if her behavior right now was anything to go by. The sudden protective streak that flared in my gut scared the shit outta me.

"Never touch me again," I hissed and walked out, slamming the door behind me. I was seriously riled up. That woman was
psycho
.

Even if Jessie wasn't in the picture, I would never go there. I'd never done meaningless in my life and wasn't about to start because of a little bit of fame. Replace Georgie with Jessie and you had my fantasies becoming reality. Her hands could wander wherever the hell they wanted.

We had to be at sound check in an hour and all I wanted to do was get there so I could see her. I didn't know what the hell I was going to do, since it was probably the last chance I'd get, but I had to do something.

That night, our gig was slated in at Troubadour, which was meant to be some iconic rock venue that had seen everyone from Prince to Guns'n'Roses and unknowns in-between, but all I had been thinking about all day was you know who. After the shenanigans at the photo shoot all I could think about was trying to get her talking to me again. For Jessie to be able to put up with Georgie the bitch and have the demeanor she'd had thus far, then she must be something else.

Last night at the club, the few words we'd exchanged had been more meaningful than anything Georgie had spouted. Then she'd just walked away mid-conversation. That was weird wasn't it? It was weird. I didn't even say anything stalker-ish. Not
really
.

Troubadour was great and it exactly my kind of venue. The crowd could squash right up against the side of the stage and it was small, I mean a fair amount of people could cram inside and no doubt the place would be an oven in five seconds flat, but it was perfect. I should be excited. I was excited. I was amped so much Zoe kept giving me looks as we helped bring our gear inside. I knew I wasn't myself, but what could I do about it? Knowing there was an imminent encounter with Jessie screwed with my head. Maybe once I got on stage things would even out.

Hauling gear occupied my hands and it was probably the only thing keeping me together. I bet if Georgie found us helping the crew she'd blow an artery, but it was how we did things. We started out with nothing and would probably never forget it. Making it big for me wasn't ever about the money, though it was nice, it was about playing for as many people I could and I knew the guys were the same. Getting a deal didn't mean we had to turn into self-important assholes. That, and I didn't like anyone touching my guitar.

Standing on stage as the techs set up our gear, I wrapped an arm around Zoe's waist and said, "No more singin' in the shower, Zo Zo."

"I think we're well past that," she laughed.

"Miles past it."

"Feeling better?"

I gave her a squeeze. "Now I'm standing here, yeah."

She bumped against me with a grin and put a hand over my heart. "Love you, Dee Dee."

"At least somebody does," I winked, earning myself a slap on the arm.

A high pitched wolf-whistle split the close air of the venue, making us look up. "Hands off my girlfriend!"

Zoe's face split into a grin as she laid eyes on Will and promptly jumped off the stage and walked over to meet him. He was standing with Simone and Jessie and realizing she'd finally showed up, my heart did this little somersault in my chest. I locked my eyes onto her and what I wouldn't do to walk over there and slide my arms around her waist and pull her in...

"Stop slobbering, mate."

I looked around at Frank who was giving me a knowing grin. "Shut up."

"Seriously, you gotta calm down a little." He clapped me on the shoulder. "Focus." He had a point.

"I don't know how he did it."

"Who?"

"Will."

"Did what?"

"Dealt with being around Zo every day for weeks and not being able to have her."

"Man, the disease is spreading," he laughed, holding his hands out in mock defense. "Three out of four members of The Devil's Tattoo are pussy whipped. Get that shit away from me."

I rolled my eyes and shoved him playfully. "Better crack out the antibacterial wipes, dip shit."

He shoved me back, laughing. "Hey, maybe it's my turn next."

The sound guy, who'd introduced himself as Matt, came up behind us and said, "We're ready for you guys."

Nodding, I whistled at Zoe, waving her over. My vision crossed Jessie's and her expression fell and I wasn't sure what I should feel about that. I just… I just needed to focus.

With the house lights up, it wasn't the same as playing a show, but it calmed my nerves anyway. We played through the first single we'd ever put out,
Walls
and then through
Red Heart
. I was seriously hoping we'd have a good reception to that one, because I wanted it to be the first American single. Not just because I wrote it, but because it was everything that the band was about.

Despite being the one place I was most comfortable, I couldn't look up the entire time, knowing that Jessie was standing out in there middle of the empty room, listening to us. I just couldn't do it. I found myself wondering if this was how Zoe had felt that day when we'd first played a sound check in front of The Stabs. I wanted to ask her about it, but I couldn't talk to her about this. She was my best friend, but the thought of confiding in her was a little embarrassing. After all, I'd always been the strong one. I wasn't willing to give that up so easily.

When we came off, Jessie was standing side of stage and Georgie was back in the wings talking on her phone a mile a minute. I stopped in front of her, guitar in hand and said, "I missed you at the photo shoot today." I clamped my mouth closed, realizing what I'd just said. Missed her as in
miss
, missed her. It was the truth, but that was way to fast.

She laughed at the look of horror on my face.

"That's not exactly what I meant…" I began.

"Don't worry about it." She waved at hand at me like she didn't care. "Georgie sent me on some errands. I wasn't really needed anyway."

"Oh."