Page 22 of Perfect Storm
“I know.” Nash scrubs a hand over his face. He doesn’t let go of Adrestia. “So, Ci’s way is the best way?”
“It’s the most professional way,” she hedges. “And would appeal to the record label.”
“Whatever happened to the best defense is an offense?”
“This isn’t a football game.” I hold out a hand like Dylan’s an idiot. “In fact, while we’re discussing it, I wanted to talk about her replacement.”
“You know someone?” Nash asks.
“No. I don’t think we should.”
They look at each other, then back at me. “It will change our sound,” Nash points out.
“Not necessarily,” I state. “I was in the studio last night. I got the keyboards removed from half a dozen of our tracks. It still works.”
Everyone is quiet, letting that sink in.
“Isn’t that playing into her hands?” Adrestia asks. “Wiping her out like she was never there?”
“Not if we don’t change the original music,” I tell her. “We’re going to get a studio musician to play those songs on this tour. The new album we should re-record, without keyboards.”
Nash looks troubled. Dylan has put his sensible head on. "We can't do that," he says. "No matter how much I want to."
“Perhaps this is a conversation you should have as a band,” Adrestia rises.
She looks around to seek Jack. He’s sitting with BreakNeck drinking champagne straight from the bottle. Pulling out of Nash’s grasp, she leaves us without a word and goes over to Jack. He greets her with a huge grin, listening and then glances to where we’re all sitting.
I didn’t intend to have this conversation without Alessa, but it might be good to lay some groundwork. We will have to discuss it more fully. I’ll show them what I mean about the keyboards not being a big enough part of our sound to remain once we’re back in New York.
I already know Dylan will be on board. Jack, despite being half drunk and exhausted, will take the conversation seriously. Alessa, I’m not sure about. She was good friends with Riley, though as far as I’m aware, they’ve not spoken since Riley walked out.
Riley was waiting for Alessa to run after her, to convince us we should take her back. It never happened.
The band will consider the idea.
Nash will be the one to convince.
Chapter 7
Brooke
“Are you pissed? Tell me the truth?”
“Of course not,” I tell Jenna as she sits beside me, wringing her hands.
Sometimes, when she gets this insecure, I want to shake her. But I appreciate her concern is that she may have hurt me.
I get it, obviously. Pregnancy is a huge life step. One I’m not ready for, but I’ve seen it for a long time in my best friend. She and Adam will make amazing parents. These idiots will be that little boy or girl’s biggest advocates. The first BreakNeck baby will be loved and cherished.
I won’t lie and say it did not hurt me when I noticed the change. How Adam’s coddling her more than usual. And how she touches her stomach, a little smile on her lips.
“I shouldn’t have outed you,” I say with a cringe. That hadn’t been my intention, but damn Nick for always popping up when you least expect him. “You haven’t told Sandy yet, have you?”
She shakes her head, upset about that.
My mom would never expect me to run to her first. My parents and I don’t have any kind of relationship anymore. My life, my choices. Jenna’s relationship with Sandy isn’t like that. I’ve often joked I have to fight her for best friend status.
They grew much closer when Jenna’s dad died in a fire. She pulled Jenna closer, focused her entire life on her while raising her with amazing values. I wish Sandy were my mom sometimes.