Page 3 of Still Her
2
Jack
“No one’s ever…going to see her… like I see her…”I draw the last words of the song out into the mic, cranking out the last dramatic strums on my acoustic, as the other guys and I look around nodding at each other, satisfied that all the audio is spot on. Chris gives one last bang out on the drums, and I let out a huge breath, pulling my guitar strap over my head and handing it to Pete, my guitar tech.
We just finished our sound check, and everything seems to be in working order. Kelly, our assistant, walks up with four bottled waters, and I gratefully accept one from her. As we make our way through the backstage corridor, our manager, Ron, approaches us, helping us close the distance. My wife describes him as teddy-bear for a couple of reasons. For one, he has a stocky figure and brown puppy dog eyes. For another, he typically manages the Silver status acts, the ones that are just starting at the label, but was kind enough to stay with us as we moved up.
“Guys,” he greets us. “How was the check?”
“Good to go,” I answer, untwisting the top to my water and taking a slug off of it.
“Good. Let’s all head to the dressing room. We’ve got a conference call with Eli. He wants to run a couple of things by us.”
We all shrug and nod, turning to follow him as he heads back down the corridor of the arena. This isn’t anything new. In fact, a call from our agent, Eli, usually means good news. He’s been with us about six months and has made a hell of a lot happen for us in that short time. We’re especially looking forward to writing a song for the next big action movie that will come out next year. There were several bands up for that gig, but we were lucky enough to be chosen. I don’t know how Eli does it, but he gets us some great exposure, positive attention, and appearances we seriously enjoy.
One by one, we follow Ron into the dressing room that has two plush couches in the middle, one on either side of a black coffee table. On the far back wall are the vanities with lights around the mirrors, and just to the right of those is a bathroom with showers. Matt and I take a seat on one couch, while Josh and Chris sit on the one along the wall. Ron stands between us, bringing up Eli’s number on his phone. When the call connects, he puts it on speaker and sets it down on the coffee table before standing back with his hands in his pockets, but still close enough so that he can hear and be heard.
“Ron, my friend!” Eli’s voice comes through enthusiastically on the phone. I have to say, this guy’s spirit doesn’t hurt either. It’s one of the things that seems to make him likeable. “How’s it goin’? You got the guys there with you?”
“Yeah, we’re all here,” Ron responds in a loud and clear voice. “You have all our attention. What’s up, man?”
“Great, great,” Eli answers, sounding calm and cool. I can practically see him reclining back in his chair in his swanky office in L.A.. “A couple of opportunities have come up for next week that I think would be good for you guys while you’re here in L.A..”
Just like I thought, good news. I just hope it doesn’t interfere with Mayzie flying in. I was hoping to go with the SUV to get her at LAX.
“The first one is a club opening,Elements,the night of the first show. If you guys make an appearance after your performance, it will be good press.”
We all acquiesce, giving some form of “yeah” or “no problem” to let him know we’ll be there. Mayzie will be jet-lagged so it will be hard on her, but she’s always prepared for this. We’ve gotten used to things being thrown unexpectedly into the itinerary, and so has she. Hopefully we don’t have to show at this club for too long.
“Good, glad to hear it. Thanks, guys. And just one more thing, this one’s for Jack. Jack?” He calls out, letting me know he’s addressing me individually.
“Yeah, Eli. I’m here,” I say, leaning forward.
“That pretty wife of yours flies in while you’re in L.A. doesn’t she?” I have to say, I’m never sure how to react when he says that. He always refers to Mayzie that way. It’s hard to blame him, sheispretty. Fucking gorgeous is more like it. It’s better than just saying ‘that wife of yours’, and I know he’s just being complimentary as he likes to lay on the charm, but still, I feel I should try to figure out a way to broach the subject with him and ask him to just refer to her by her name.
“Yeah,” I affirm. “She flies in the afternoon of the first show.”
“Perfect!” I hear him clap his hands. “Listen,Shred Magazinewants to do a piece on rock couples. They want to feature four couples in the industry, rock genre of course. They’ve got George and Erin Stockwell on board, as well as a couple others. I pitched you and your wife to them and they want you in it.”
“No shit! Really?” I ask. I’m flattered they want to do a piece on Mayzie and me and our relationship.
“No joke. It’s just a brief interview,” his voice gets very nonchalant. “I know you two are pretty private about your relationship, but you won’t have to share too much. You can keep it surface-level, and there will be some sort of a sexy photo shoot to go along with it. What do you think? I know it packs your schedule pretty tight for that day…”
“No, it’s fine. Just let me talk to Mayzie first, but I think she’ll be down for it.” I know I am; I’m pumped to do something like this with her.
“Great, great,” he says, again. “How is she getting out here by the way? Commercial?”
“Yeah. She and our dogs get into LAX around one o’clock on Thursday. I’m hoping I can pick her up.”
“Jesus! Flying commercial with two dogs? That’s rough.” He blows out a whistle. “Wait a minute. I’ll be in NYC the night before for a charity event. I’ll have my pilot drop by Motor City that morning and we’ll give her a lift back here.”
“Are you serious?” I ask in grateful disbelief. This is so generous, and I like the idea of Mayzie flying out to L.A. comfortably, and the dogs not having to be stuffed into crates in the cargo area. “That would make the trip so much easier on her.”
“You’re damn right it would,” he concurs. “She won’t have to worry about checking your dogs and then you don’t have to risk the paps swarming you at LAX.”
“Thank you, Eli. I really appreciate this.” I shake my head, truly thankful that he’s willing to go out of his way.
“No problem. And if you could just shoot me a text by tonight with the final word on theShredshoot, that’d be great.”