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Don't mention it yet. The brothers may say no. Even if they say yes, after meeting with them, I may decide they're not a fit. No harm, no foul.
The list of reasons this may not work, and I'll never need to disturb the band, grows long enough to block the guilt. Unlike the boys, my calendar is completely clear. "You'll make the calls?" I say to the pair.
They share a conspiratorial laugh as if they've known all along this is where I'd land. "I could ask them, but something tells me if the invite came directly from you, there's not a chance in hell Laredo says no." Marshall teases me because he knows he's right. Outside of being a pain in the side, Laredo is one of the biggest flirts on the planet. Within minutes of meeting me, he declared I had no agency and would fall head over heels for him. His paper-thin statement couldn't hide his own attraction to me. The boys are right. If I asked, Laredo would come running. He's attractive, and he has a certain swagger, but I've been down that road before with the self-important, self-destructive rock star. It didn't end well. It's a dangerous element to introduce to a band.
Marshall swipes across his phone, and I feel the vibration of my phone. "I just sent you their contact info. Good luck." Marshall's grin tells me he knows I'm going to need all the luck I can find.
I nod, exit, and remind myself why I'm doing this. It's about the music, it's about my band, it's about my future. It's not about the man.
Chapter Three
Adam
"I can't ask you to do that for me." My sister's voice floats all the way from London to me in Indiana as I steal a glimpse through our FaceTime connection and get another peek into her new world. She's lying across a couch, wrapped in a terrycloth robe pulled all the way up to her collar, but behind her is a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the London Eye. It's a penthouse view, which a year ago, we thought we'd only experience in a Hollywood movie.
"You didn't ask, I volunteered." I prop my feet up on an old, broken metal desk that looks as if it was stolen from the curb of an abandoned office building. I'm sitting on a half-broken chair in the back office of a place called, wait for it, The Dive Bar. The owner slash bartender slash maintenance staff ceded me to this space when I asked for a quiet place to hide. "Besides, you're always on the road these days. I'm here in Indiana. It makes sense for me to coordinate." Hailey's career has blown up. Last year at the Seaside Music festival, she met a music producer and her current boyfriend, Marshall Grant. They were a perfect match. He convinced her to reach for the heights I've always known she deserved to soar in. Her debut solo performance at the festival landed her a record deal that same night.
The sky's been the limit ever since. Her album reached the Billboard top 10, and she's now on her first world tour. I couldn't be happier.
She unties her crimson hair, letting it cascade across her shoulders. "It's going to be a lot of administrative work. You're going to have to listen to dozens of demos. You know what, I can hire someone. We have money now." She laughs to herself, her green eyes sparkling with disbelief that this is her life.
"I got this," I say. Hailey may soar high, but she hasn't forgotten where we're from. She's planning a girls' music week at Lake Hope here in Indiana next year. Talented women early in their music careers, looking to polish their craft, pick up career management tips, and of course jam out all week. Fifty open slots, full scholarships paid by Hailey. Once word gets out, we're expecting an avalanche of applications.
A knock on the office door pulls my attention away from the screen. "Come in."
Gary, the gruff, exhausted owner, sticks his head in, and it doesn't go unnoticed the man knocked on his own office door. "He's wrapping up." Three words. That's all he says before the door shuts.
"Laredo?" Hailey asks, and I nod.
"Yeah, he's doing his last song now." Laredo is performing at a tiny bar five towns over from our home in Destiny Falls. When I escaped at the start of the performance to the back office, there were less than twenty people in the bar.
"How is he?" Hailey steps onto the delicate topic. "You know after the… He won’t accept my help.” She doesn’t have to go into details. Laredo signed a contract with a label and did what Laredo always does. He self-sabotaged. He went into the studio as an entitled brat who thought his presence alone would have them falling to their knees. It took less than two months for them to all agree to go their separate ways, the contract shredded. If that wasn’t a wake-up call, then the last few months should be. He’s had difficulty booking gigs. He’s exhausted all the local contacts we spent years cultivating as a family band. His prima donna act not appreciated. So now, he plays in bars like this for tips and free booze.
“He gets to drink for free and whore around with clueless women who don’t know any better. So, he’s living his best life.” I pick at an old scab, which both Hailey and I bear.
She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “I really wished he got the memo. He’s getting too old to keep doing this.”
“Hey, I’m the same age.” I offer levity to a heavy topic. Laredo and I are twins. He’s older than me by ninety-three seconds. A fact he often uses to treat me as the younger brother. “He’s not only running out of time, but he’s running out of bars,” I half-joke. Each gig is further and further from our small hometown. Soon, the price of the gas won’t be worth the free beer.
“I can talk to Aaliyah,” Hailey mentions her manager. Aaliyah manages only a handful of artists. Three of them, counting Hailey, each with albums in the top ten this year. She doesn’t waste time on charity cases, but she and my sister have formed an incredible bond.
“Make him earn that,” I warn Hailey. We both have a history of sticking our necks out for Laredo, only to have it bite us in the ass. Disappointment and embarrassment are the usual rewards. That’s a tab Hailey can no longer afford to pay, not with the future she’s blazing. I’m here and will continue to block the shrapnel to protect others.
Hailey’s kind heart, and her long years as the older sibling taking care of us make it difficult for her to see us struggle. We're no longer young teens in need of her leadership. "I miss you guys." She leans forward into the screen, her green eyes sparkling from the light bouncing from the crystal chandelier in the room—yep, she gave me the complete walkthrough of her giant suite.
"Six more weeks." I have her tour schedule memorized. A month and a half before her break, she gets to fly home to Indiana. I sense it won't be long before she no longer calls Indiana home. She has the entire world at her feet. "Let me go collect Laredo." I don't mention to Hailey I'm the designated driver. Two weekends ago, the asswipe picked up a girl at his gig and nearly drove them off the road. She at least had the presence of mind to stop him, got a hold of his phone, and contacted me. "Love you, sis. I'll talk to you when you get to Paris."
She swipes her hand to push her red hair from face and covers her mouth to suppress the giggle. "Un-freaking believable. Paris!"
Hailey has always carried the weight of our family on her back. It's good to see her reap the rewards. "You've earned it. Love it—live it."
I disconnect and exit the tiny office. The stench of beer and sweat hit me the second I turn down the hall. The crowd has grown, not by much, but at least forty people are crowded in the small space. The bar is three deep, which is all Gary cares about. Maybe if Laredo can behave for the next thirty minutes, he might be offered a return invitation.
That thought lasts for all of ten seconds. "You know the words. Sing along," Laredo dictates to the crowd. His gaze is beyond the two-dozen people in front of his tiny stage, dancing and enjoying his performance. Just like Laredo, he doesn't appreciate what's in front of him but is more interested in what's in the distance.
"Hey. Hey," he screams, destroying the melody of the song. His roar directed at a stocky man near the bar with a hearty laugh who's holding court. Beer in one hand, surrounded by friends, he waves his free hand in an animated conversation with a few friends that have nothing to do with Laredo—a cardinal sin.
Leave it alone, Laredo. I know even if he heard me, he ''won't listen.
