Joy Ride by Desiree Holt (reading a book TXT) 📕

He’d replayed the scene in the dressing room more times than he’d seen reruns of old television shows. He’d been thoroughly jazzed, just like the others, when Butch had come onto the stage to talk to them, walked them out into the wings and told them he wanted to put them under contract. Dozens of bands had tried to get him to take them on, but he’d focused only on Deep Blue River until he’d established them at the top. Then it was a mob scene to see who he’d sign next. And Lightnin’ had won the lottery.

Marc wanted to share this with ML. Let her know how connected he felt to her. What he saw in the future for them. Beg her for her name if begging was what it took and show her they could have something solid together. Finding the one right person in this business wasn’t easy. It took someone who could put up with the crazy hours and the uncertainties endemic to it. But he also knew you couldn’t pick the time and place when the one right person walked into your life.

For him it had been ML, the moment he saw her at Aftershock. He wanted her to be part of his success with her. His excitement. Take her home with him, open the bottle of wine and get her to talk to him about her trust issues. Hopefully begin the foundation of a life together.

Those were his thoughts when he walked off the stage with the band at the Amphitheatre. He’d glanced back once over his shoulder and seen ML slide off the equipment crate where she’d been sitting, and expected her to head for the dressing room. Several of the women the other band members had brought were already there but not ML. That damn Lacey jumped up, plastering herself all over him, and tried playing tonsil hockey the minute ML walked through the door.

By the time he shoved Lacey aside and raced out to the parking lot, ML was already heading to her car and not interested in listening to him. If he’d ever thought she’d trust him, that had gone right down the drain. The look of betrayal on her face and the pain in her voice were burned into his brain.

Marc thought again about taking Rick’s suggestion and seeing if his mother had any advice for him, but he wasn’t ready yet to drag the whole mess out for her to see.

Unable to sit still, he dug his acoustic guitar out of the closet and headed back to the porch. Maybe he’d do something productive with his pain and put it into a song.

Chapter Sixteen

The week was pure hell for Marc. Days were filled with business meetings, rehearsals and starting the two-week gig at The Rock Den. They had one more two-week commitment, but Butch had managed to get them out of everything else. Deep Blue River would be hitting the road in six weeks with Lightnin’ as their opening act. Ten dates in three states. Butch had used the tape of On the Edge of the Woods to get them a quick record contract with the guys who had been at the concert. A single, pushed out, down, and dirty to get airplay with the concert tour with a full album to follow if the first results were good.

“Labels aren’t committing to too much in front these days,” Butch told them.

But they were good with that. They knew they had a good product.

They worked their asses off rehearsing, talking business, getting ready for the tour, signing contracts. Playing the club at night. Marc was glad for the long hours. He could fall into bed exhausted and try to sleep without seeing Music Lady’s face every time he closed his eyes.

But when he did, he’d get up and work on his song. A song filled with pain, agony, and love.

Music playing, hips swaying, dance for me, Music Lady.

And he could see her at Aftershock, moving to the beat of the songs, tentative the first time but gradually losing herself in the rhythm. Swept up in it. Letting it all go.

Body moving, hot and grooving, Music Lady.

He saw her in his bed, like an unleashed tiger, wild and passionate and giving.

Sweet and sexy, that’s her style. Make her stay a while. Music Lady.

Then he’d have to stop, because the agony of loss was enough to bring him to his knees. Maybe if he finished it, he could get the band to play it. It wouldn’t take more than one rehearsal. He had to find her, even if he had to hang out in the stupid grocery store for the rest of his life, something he did every day between rehearsal and work. The tour might interrupt it but he wouldn’t give up. Sooner or later she’d have to come back there. It was the only link he had right now and he hung onto it.

***

“So exactly how am I supposed to find him?”

As usual Emma and Annie were at Hot Salsa, sucking up the margaritas during happy hour. This was the third night in a row, and Emma was beginning to look forward to the numbing effects of the alcohol. She always got the last drink to go, carrying it home with her so she could crawl into bed. Pathetically, she’d worn the Lightnin’ T-shirt every night, pulling it on the moment she got home, inhaling his scent that clung to it. Then the pain would surface again, she’d chug down her to-go margarita and try to fall asleep, praying she didn’t keep seeing Marc’s face in her dreams.

The only good thing about the entire week was Andrew had gotten the message at last and left her alone. And the dinner with her parents had gone very well. They still tended to look at her as if someone had snatched their daughter and left a stranger in her place but they understood her