Unintentional (4 page)

I’m sipping on my second glass of wine when three of the four band members start to set up. I watch them carefully. They are talking and laughing, overall having a good time. That’s a good sign. I’ve worked with bands who don’t get along. The egos! There’s nothing worse than trying to referee a power struggle between band mates.

I scan the room, taking in the atmosphere, when I notice the fourth member of the band jump onto the stage. Oh! My jaw drops as I look at him. This couldn’t be the lead singer. He’s, he’s…almost unreal. I rifle through my notes with shaking hands. Sophie prepared a bio on each one, but didn’t include pictures. Maybe if I had some
warning, I wouldn’t be sitting here like some idiot with my mouth gaping open.

What the hell is wrong with me? It’s that guy, Cade, or whatever his name is. I’m so flustered, I can’t keep the pages in order. He is absolutely gorgeous! What is my problem? I’m a professional. I see good looking men all the time.

I look back over at Cade as he smiles at someone across the bar. Oh my God, he has dimples. Could he be any better looking? Nope. I think I just turned into a groupie. Well, maybe I’m not that far gone yet, but I’m close. I have to get control of myself. I take a deep breath in, hoping my heart will return its normal rate, exhale out. It didn’t work, so I try again.

I’m in the process of calming myself when Sophie asks, “Laurel, you feeling okay?”

I look back at her. “Have you seen the lead singer yet? Sophie, that man should not be legal.”

Sophie looks up at the stage, and her expression turns to shock.

She laughs at me. “I’d be willing to get arrested for that one!”

Good, it’s not just me. This should be an interesting night. I’m fanning myself, trying to order my body to calm down. I look over at
Sophie, she’s grinning at me.

“What?” I ask.

She laughs. “Oh, Laurel, this is rich! I’ve never seen you in such a state. Why don’t you go up and introduce yourself before they start?”

“No, I want to see how they perform first. Don’t you remember? We’re going to check them out first. We don’t want to waste their time or ours if they don’t cut it.”

Sophie shrugs. “I don’t think it would be a waste. Look at them, Laurel. I know Cade is super-hot, but did you see the other one? I think his name is Ayden. Can’t we just meet them anyway? Even if they aren’t what we’re looking for, they might be in another area. You know what I mean?” She winks at me.

Sophie. I love her, but sometimes, she can be so superficial. Yes, Cade and Ayden are great-looking. Actually, all the members of the band are incredible in their own way, but I don’t want to get anything started with them. Sophie, on the other hand would be just fine with a one-night fling.

I wonder to myself for the hundredth time, when is she going to settle down? Sophie is a fantastic assistant, but sometimes
exhausting. Her energy for all things musical, including the men involved, is over-the-top. How can they resist? Sophie is what you would call a dynamo. She’s got the whole package. She’s smart, she’s funny, and she’s gorgeous. If she weren’t so nice, I might be inclined to hate her. I look over at her. She’s got it all. She has a body to die for with an attitude to match. Yes, my friend and assistant, Sophie, is a dynamo. I couldn’t admire her more. Right now, though, I need to reel her in a bit.

After the band completes their set up, the lead singer, Cade, greets his audience. The girls gathered in front of the stage are jumping up and down, waving as he yells out, “Hey Seattle, are you ready to rock?”

The crowd, loud with cheering and applause, ignite the room with a contagious energy. It looks like these guys have a huge, loyal following. The band launches into their first song; an original, I think. I sit quietly and close my eyes. The music flows through me, and I know I haven’t wasted a trip here.

I take a deep breath and listen to the lyrics. There’s real talent here. Cade’s voice is low and raspy, soft and sexy. Oh, I’m feeling the groupie thing coming back on. I glance over at Sophie. She’s grinning
at me again.

She leans over so I can hear her. “I guess we’ll be talking to them after all.”

I nod back at her. She’s not going to get an argument from me.

The two-hour show goes by quickly. I can’t remember a time when I enjoyed a performance more. I have to sign this band. I wonder again what is holding them back. There’s superstar potential here. Each and every one is a master of their instrument.

Scott, the drummer, is hilarious. He’s a show all by himself. The crowd is immensely entertained by his aerial stick displays, sending one stick after another flying through the air and catching it mid-beat. His enthusiasm is matched only by his ego. With his short-cropped, dark hair and sparkling, green eyes, he has everyone in the room charmed. He definitely loves the spotlight, and he has the talent and personality to deserve it.

Ayden, the bassist, is what Sophie refers to as “a super-hot bad boy”. Tattoos, piercings, dark spiky hair, and tight clothing make him the total package for a girl like Sophie. I’m going to have to watch her around him. She loves this type of guy. I don’t expect her to get married and settle down anytime soon, but I’m always hoping she will
find a nice guy and be in an actual relationship.

I listened carefully to Ayden’s solo during “Keep the Faith”— a Bon Jovi cover. He rivals Hugh McDonald in his talent. Wow. I wonder how frustrated he must be that they only play once or twice a week. This guy has mega-talent that is basically going to waste.

I turn to look at the last band member, Mica, another great-looking guy, tall with wavy, blonde hair. It looks like he’s no stranger to the gym, with rippling muscles beneath his tight t-shirt. He’s been on the keyboard tonight, singing backup vocals. His voice is the best possible complement to Cade’s. While Cade’s voice has some rasp to it, Mica’s is soft and melodic. I’ve been getting goose bumps all night listening to them.

And Cade? He has the “it” factor that draws attention – from everyone. He’s mesmerizing on stage, captivating the entire audience. It feels like I’m watching a young Keith Urban, only better.

It looks like they’re wrapping up their set when I notice Cade turning around and talking to the band. They all nod at something Cade has told them. He turns his microphone stand around and says, “This is for Mattie.”

He turns and angles himself to face the bar. I follow his line of
sight to see an absolutely gorgeous girl with dark hair smiling back at him. This must be his girlfriend. The way he looks at her says it all. His eyes soften, and his mouth tilts up momentarily before he begins the song. My breath catches as I realize he’s singing the “Ho Hey” song, one of my all-time favorites.

Cade is singing it beautifully, with such emotion. I look over at the girl. Yes, that’s just how I’d react. Her eyes are watering, and she’s holding her hand over her heart. This moment is so special, but do I dare admit to myself I wish it were me? I’ve taken this groupie thing to a whole new level. I think I’m jealous.

As I’m trying to put my feelings where they should be, from school-girl crush back to professional music agent, Cade takes off his guitar and heads straight to her. I watch in fascination as he grabs and crushes her to him in the most passionate kiss I’ve ever seen.

The crowd erupts into a chorus of catcalls, shouting, and clapping. I watch Cade’s band mates carefully to see what they think of this whole thing. Scott and Mica high-five each other, and I read Ayden’s lips as he exclaims, “It’s about time!”

I look back at the couple when I notice a dark-haired man reaching for Cade. He grabs him by the t-shirt, pulls him back, and
punches him right in his face.

Oh! Cade goes down. I’m trying to process this. Maybe the dark-haired girl has a boyfriend or husband? It’s not uncommon for guys in a band to fool around where they shouldn’t. Perhaps Cade is a player.

It doesn’t make sense though. Not from what I’ve just seen. I saw real emotion in the whole exchange. I don’t think he’s just playing around. Just when I think things can’t get worse, the scene suddenly shifts into complete insanity.

A tall, blonde girl takes a gun out of her purse and starts yelling and pointing it at people. Sophie pulls my arm and yells, “Let’s get the hell out of here!”

I don’t want to just leave. Someone has to do something. My heart is hammering in my chest. I want to help, but I don’t know what to do. Everyone is starting to panic. People are trying to leave the nightclub all at once. I look over to where all the drama has unfolded, only to see a wall of people rushing to the exits.

I feel Sophie tugging on my arm, we’ll be forced to leave, either that or get trampled by the crowd. I take one last look back as gunshots explode over the shouting and screaming.

Sophie and I stand outside the nightclub in disbelief.
What the hell?
I’m worried about everyone still left in there. I look over at Sophie. She’s shaking like a leaf, her eyes as wide as saucers.

“Laurel, what should we do?” she asks.

I’m beyond confused and scared. “I don’t honestly know. If we go back in, will we make things worse?”

We look at each other, glance at the door, and make the decision. “Let’s go!” we say in unison.

As I’m pulling the door open, a long, wailing siren breaks the hushed murmurs from the crowd assembled on the sidewalk. The ambulance is followed closely by three police cars.

I take hold of Sophie’s arm and tug her back, moving away from the door.

“It looks like we’ll need to stay out of the way.” Tears form in Sophie’s eyes. She’s as tough as they come, but she’s also one of the most sensitive people I know. I put my arms around her as her sobs come out in gasps. We both know something terrible has probably happened.

I take a few cleansing breaths, give a few more rubs to Sophie’s back, and say, “It’s okay, the police will get this all sorted
out. We can’t stay here. We’ll just be in the way. Let’s go back to the hotel. We can check the news later.”

“But Laurel, what if it was one of the band members who was shot?”

My eyes widen as my face starts to flush. Of course she should be concerned about the band, but what about everyone else? Sophie notices my reaction.

“I didn’t mean that! I spent the entire night staring at them. I feel like I know them already. Are we getting on the plane now?”

I gently steer Sophie to our rented car. I can spot the symptoms of shock a mile away. She’s pale and not making sense. I need to get her back to the hotel where I can get her feet elevated. I think that’s what I’m supposed to do. Where is Google when I need it? If she doesn’t mellow out soon, we’ll be headed to the hospital ourselves.

Once we’re back at the hotel, I tuck Sophie into the queen bed, raising her feet on five fluffy pillows. I call housekeeping to order more blankets. That should do it.

“You know, Laurel, if you keep doing this, I’m going to start calling you Mum.”

I giggle. Sophie is the only person I know who refers to her mother as Mum. Her grandparents emigrated from Australia, and I think there are some things so engrained, you never lose them.

“Go ahead, I dare you,” I respond while narrowing my eyes and giving her “The Look.”

“Oh, I’m so scared.” Sophie laughs as she gives me a fake shiver.

“That’s enough, funny girl. I’m going to call the hospital and see if I can get any information about the shooting.” Right as I say the words I regret them. I watch Sophie’s face fall, her mood suddenly dampens.

“Just because we heard gunfire doesn’t mean someone got hurt. Maybe the bullets didn’t hit anyone.” I try to look convincing, but Sophie’s not buying it.

Her eyes sadden. “I hope you’re right.”

I leave the room to make my call. The last thing I need is to have Sophie riled up again. The only reason I haven’t lost it already is because I know I have to look out for her.

I get the number for the hospital and make my call. Getting through to the emergency room operator was easy, but she was as
tight-lipped as you can get.

“They won’t give me any information.” I confirm the news when I re-enter the hotel room.

“That doesn’t surprise me. Did you try your sneaky
I’m the sister
routine?” Sophie inquires.

Laughing, I shake my head and reply, “No, I don’t think I’m lucky enough to get away with it again.”

Sophie and I have a friend, Michelle, who was diagnosed with stage-four uterine cancer at the age of twenty-five. Michelle was nervous about her first chemotherapy treatment, so we lied our way into her room. She needed moral support, so both of us considered it a lie of necessity, although I don’t think we even needed the fib. I still think the nurse knew what we were up to the entire time. Sophie and I look about as different as they come. Who would ever believe we were related? It’s laughable. With us, we always want what we can’t have. I’ve always envied Sophie’s lovely caramel-colored skin and her long, black, wavy hair. Her eyes are huge, framed in a heart-shaped face. And those eyelashes? I’ve considered plucking them out and having them surgically implanted for myself. I smile. It’s a running joke between us. She said I could have her eyelashes if she could have my
“beautiful, exotic eyes.”

My dad was Irish, my mother Thai. As a result, I am a mix of light-skinned stubbornness and dark-eyed sweetness. This has not been a good combination for me, as I’m always at war with myself.

Sophie, on the other hand, is a little slice of Greek with a huge helping of Italian. She’s hot-blooded, feisty, and unpredictable. One minute she’s tough as nails, the next she’s crying on my shoulder, falling apart. For now, she’s good, although concerned.

“Well, we had to give it a shot. What’s next, Laurel? What do you think we should do?”

I pause to consider our options. A sigh escapes as I reply, “Nothing, Sophie. All we can really do is watch the news like everyone else. We don’t know these people, and I don’t think we should intrude.”

The local news station, KOMO 4, is in the background. It appears they have to most up-to-date information, so I settle in the comfortable side chair and wait.