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“He told you about that?” I was surprised seeing as Joey had been adamant no one knew.
“Nope. I sign the plane off and see the manifest each time it’s used.” She gave me a wry smile that said, ‘gotcha’. “I also got a call from Zoe asking me to keep an eye on him because his father was dying. I put two and two together for the second visit.”
“Does he know that you know?” I asked. “About me going with him.”
Ali’s lips thinned as she shook her head. “That was always the deal. Right from the start, the boys and I agreed we’d never discuss who they took on the plane or where they went. I take it the boys don’t know either.”
“I don’t think so. Neither of us wanted them to know.”
“They’re all good listeners, you know.” Ali’s face softened as it always did when she was talking about ‘her boys’.
“Well, that’s up to Joey. Not me.”
When I heard the first chords of the first song of a ballad section, I nodded towards the venue. “We should get back in. I need to double check the lighting for the crossover, Elliot is worried it’s too bright.”
“Yeah, I need to get backstage, too. The top brass from Guinness are visiting.”
“Wow, very important VIP’s I must say.”
She rolled her eyes. “Hmm, maybe. Anyway, think about what I said about Joey. He’s nothing like you know who, sweetheart, I promise you.”
As she walked away I thought about her words. I knew she was right, but it still didn’t make it any less scary.
After any first gig of a tour, we always had a feedback session. Everyone attended, including the band and it was one of the first ones that I’d dreaded running.
I loved my job and I certainly loved bollocking everyone, but it was one time I could easily have gone back to my room and hidden under the duvet. When I stood at the head of the conference room that the hotel had let us use, the only person I could concentrate on in the sea of faces was Joey’s.
It was as handsome as ever, big brown eyes staring at me as he cracked the knuckles of his tattooed hands. His olive skin was paler, and I knew it was because he was trying to contain his anger. Whenever he was seething with fury his complexion changed, I had no idea what caused it, maybe his blood turned to ice. Who knew?
“Right,” I called, perching myself on the edge of the table. “The gig went okay but there are a few issues that need resolving.”
“Surprise, surprise,” Beau joked.
I drilled him with a glare and then turned my gaze to Rocky. If I focused on him, maybe my eyes wouldn’t be drawn to the fucking Italian Stallion with the tape round his fingers.
“Elliot is right, the lighting for the ballad section is too bright. Sort it for tomorrow, Rocky. Check the lumens and maybe lose the blinders.” I looked down at the list on my phone and swallowed. I never felt nervous about giving feedback but had a feeling this one wasn’t going to go well. “The only other thing is your drumming, Joey.”
“Oh, fuck,” Ronnie groaned. When I looked at him, he’d dropped his head to the table. “He’s not going to be happy. He’s already in a fucking foul mood.”
“Yeah, well, he’s going to be in a worse one,” I responded, risking a look at Joey. “You were too erratic. You missed the beat twice on Justify.” I smiled at Beau, albeit with a heavy hint of sarcasm. “Thankfully,heknows how to sing and keep time without a fucking drum beat.”
“There was nothing wrong with my drumming,” Joey yelled. He pushed his chair back, making an awful noise on the wooden floor and then slammed a hand on the table. “How the hell dare you?”
I finally looked at him. “I dare because I’m right.”
“Who says?” His eyes narrowed on me.
“I say,” I snapped back. “As the road manager with years of experience, I fucking say, you dick.”
Beau and Elliot groaned while everyone else went suspiciously quiet. Dexy and Barney, the two head stage roadies, pulled their chairs closer to the table, clearly for a better view of the smackdown about to happen.
“I’m not a dick!”
I scoffed. “I beg to differ. You were playing like an amateur and they,” I swirled my finger in the general direction of everyone else, “will all agree, if they have the balls.”
“We have the balls,” Beau cried. “I’ll tell anyone to their face if I think they were shit.” He turned to Elliot and poked him in the bicep. “Like you when you played a dumb note during the chorus of Battle Scars.”
“I bloody didn’t.”
