Too Many Rock Stars: Violet's Story (Access All Areas #1) Page 3

  "So, Vi, what about this gig?"

  "Dude, it was only a couple of hours ago, give me a break. You'll get your gig. And don't ever call me Vi again. And also, don't wake me up when I'm napping."

  Carlie handed him his beer. "Violet looks great tonight, doesn't she?" she said with a wink.

  "I don't look great. You know what I look? Tired is what I look. Because I got woken up from my nap today."

  "You sure wake up cranky too, even if you do look cute."

  I don't know why this kept coming back to my looks. Sleep doesn't care what you look like. Sleep loves you unconditionally. If I looked great or I looked like shit, sleep would still embrace me. Even thinking about sleep made me sleepier.

  Razer rubbed my shoulder but I slugged his hand off. Brady still had one eye on me.

  "Don't even try it. This is your fault."

  Both he and Carlie laughed. I wasn't kidding, though. I was dog tired and could barely stay awake. I was supposed to stick around to deal with the bands and help close up. Maybe I could sneak off to my office and have a quick nap before then. Carlie could wake me for close up.

  "Is Chuck coming in tonight?" I asked Carlie.

  "Not that I know of. Why? Did you want to see him?"

  Down the other end of the bar, some guy tapped coins impatiently. Carlie gave him a sneer then turned back to me.

  "If someone was to say sneak off to their office for a little while, it's not like he'd notice... Someone who had their sleep disturbed earlier today by feral rockers..."

  Carlie grinned.

  "I'll give you a warning if he turns up. What time do you want me to wake you?"

  "Maybe when the last band goes on. That should give me enough time. If the other bands want their cash, tell them to drop by tomorrow. These chicks and the next band have played here often enough to know the drill. I don't need to babysit them going on."

  She grinned. "Sure thing."

  "Need some company?" Razer asked. Again with the dimple but dimples are nothing compared to the need for sleep. He could keep his dimples to himself as I stifled my yawn,

  I could just imagine Chuck’s reaction if I got caught with Razer in my office. During the day with just the regular staff around, it’d be bad enough. At night, Chuck always had one of his lackeys on the security staff.

  "That is exactly what I don't need. I need peace and quiet. You’re the enemy of sleep, you’ve already proven that."

  I walked off without looking back.

  As I tried to get comfortable though, the feeling of Razer's hand on my shoulder haunted me. It had been a surprisingly tender touch, not the kind of thing I'd expected from him.

  And this new guy, Alex. The way he'd wrapped me in his arms earlier. It'd been like a dream.

  Not that either of them was in the running for my affections. My feelings had to be wrapped up tighter than a mummy’s tomb. But, if I had to pick one, I wondered which one it would be.

  I shook myself and pulled the manky blanket around me. The only thoughts I should be having about either of them was where I’d put them on the band roster next week.

  Chapter 5 VIOLET

  I'D JUST FINALIZED the band roster for the next month and was about to start calling bands when Chuck came into my office.

  He sat on the shonky sofa but didn't say anything. That was pretty unusual for Chuck. Normally he talked my ear off in the most annoying way possible. Chuck suffered from short man complex – and probably a lot of other complexes as well – always acting like he had something to prove but never channeling that into anything productive.

  I chewed on my nail, waiting for him to start but he kept staring ahead.

  Then he looked up as though he wanted to say something. I focused on him but no words came out. He hung his head again.

  Okay, it was becoming really uncomfortable. I glanced at the paperwork on my desk, wondering if I should ignore him and keep working or if I should just wait for him to get started.

  Actually, he did look a bit ashen in the face and that pulsating vein in his neck was a worry. I hoped he wasn't about to have a heart attack in my office. Chuck was a total jerk but I'd much rather him alive than a corpse on my sofa.

  What would be so hard for him to discuss with me anyway? I was pretty sure I hadn’t done anything wrong recently. Well, nothing he'd find out about. And he'd never had an issue screaming his head off at any of the staff before.

  He ran his hand through his hair and slowly raised his head.

  "I've got some pretty shit news," he said.

  "What's up?"

  Knowing Chuck, this was all for dramatic effect and he was just going to bitch about some minor bit of shit. Like how the bar staff gave away too many free drinks or that some band nicked something from backstage. I don't even know why he came to me about that kind of stuff. I was the band booker, not the bar manager. My responsibility started and ended with the bands. I guess if they were pinching stuff from the club, I had some responsibility for that, but not over the rest of it.

  "I saw my accountant yesterday. There's been a huge fuck up with the taxes. I'm in debt. In big debt." Chuck gulped.

  "So? You can pay it off, right?"

  All this fuss because he had to pay some taxes. His tax problems weren't my concern. I hoped he didn't want a loan because he should seriously know better than to ask that with what he paid me.

  “It’s not that simple...”

  “Huh?” Then, the words sunk in. This wasn’t just about him. “How does this affect the club?”

  He didn't answer. I had no idea what Chuck's finances were like but he drove a pretty swish car and never seemed to worry about throwing money around on useless things like bimbos and flashy suits.

  He shook his head and didn't look at me again.

  I shuffled to the edge of my chair. "Chuck, this is the part where you reassure me that everything will okay."

  "I'm not sure I can do that, Violet. I'm not sure..."

  His hands shook and he'd gone even whiter. What would happen if Chuck went broke? Would he sell the club? He couldn't sell the club. That wasn’t possible. Surely, he was just stressed because he'd have to cut back on his stupid expenses.

  "You can sell your car. That's got to be worth a bit."

  He scowled. "I don't own that. It's leased through the business."

  Wow, you could do that? I had no idea how these things worked. But then I had no idea about any of the financial workings of the club. All I knew was booking bands. I bet those bimbos he drove were leased too.

  This was too big for me to comprehend. That throbbing neck vein seemed to have transferred itself from Chuck to me as though he'd handed me his burden. But I didn't want it.

  He sat there, hunched over and staring at his hands for long enough that panic set in. He could say something instead of just looking defeated. Surely, he'd know I had a zillion questions. Everyone would. That was a massive bombshell to drop.

  My heart sunk like a drowning man. I couldn't get my mouth to work. I had the functionality and facial expressions of a goldfish.

  "Is the club going to survive? Should I be looking for another job?"

  "I don't know, Violet. I really don't know. He’s running numbers now and trying to figure out how long we have to pay this back. Maybe we can pay installments or something. It does mean that this place has to start making serious money. Enough to cover my tax bill."

  I wanted to ask how big the tax bill was but was afraid of the answer. Even though Trouble wasn't anything fancy, it must cost a heap to run, with wages and all that.

  We had to pay the bands plus we needed at least two staff in the downstairs bar plus two upstairs on a regular night. Then there was security and cleaning and bussing. I had no idea how much money the club made. Of course, I knew how much the door takings were for the bands and how much we paid them but then there was the bar as well. It wasn't like the place didn't make money.

  "We have to make serious cuts. No more bar tabs, no
more free drinks. No more having half a crowd on a Saturday night. We need to get bands that will bring in people, paying customers."

  Well, there went all of my work. I could tear next month's roster into pieces. This place had never been like that. That's why I loved my job. It wasn't some ritzy club just out to make money. We gave bands a chance to prove themselves and all the misfits somewhere to gather. Even if Chuck was a jerk, this place worked. It worked as a family and a refuge from the shitty world.

  "Will that do the trick?"

  "It might, I can't really say at the moment. It's all a mess."

  He was right about that. Things were going to change and I hated change. It seemed bloody stupid to me that just because Chuck or his accountant had screwed up, we all had to suffer. The moment of pity I'd had for him passed quickly to be replaced by rage at his incompetence. I knew this was his club but in some ways, it was mine. I booked the bands. That wasn't as easy as you'd think. It wasn't just picking up the phone and telling some bozos to come in and play. It was an art, a special blending of the right sounds and the right people to create something magical. Sometimes that meant seeing the promise in a young band and letting them play a few times to get their confidence. Nurturing them until it all clicked. I’d built it all up and that’s what made it special.

  Now Chuck had screwed that all up.

  I'd given everything to my job. I had no life outside of work. No other friends, no hobbies. I didn't even do family.

  Hell, for my last birthday, my family had given me a gift card to some swanky department store. It still sat in my drawer. I’d never use it. The guys at the club had given me a caramel peanut cheesecake and a vintage pair of Docs. Shit, I really needed.

  My hands shook worse than Chuck's and the icky feelings took over my stomach. I stood up. I had to get out.

  If Chuck sold the club, I'd be screwed. No job, no money, no friends. People say they'll keep in touch but that's easier said than done. Half the guys who hung out here didn’t even have phones.

  First thing, I needed to get Chuck out of my space.

  “Well, thanks for telling me, Chuck. Now I have some calls to make so I’ll let you go tell the rest of the staff.”

  Wow, I could sound so professional and in control but really, I screamed inside. I wasn’t sure how I’d cope with this. This club was my life.

  Chapter 6 VIOLET

  ALEX CAME IN EARLY, almost as soon as the bar opened. Carlie nudged me as he walked across the room.

  "Is that him?” she asked. “I can see why you were giving Razer the brush-off."

  I shrugged. I’d never given Razer the brush-off. He had his place and that place was well established in the friend zone.

  Still, the sight of Alex did give me a bolt of pleasure. I'd have to watch out for him or I'd end up doing something stupid. Damn his soulful eyes.

  Earlier in the week to book him in for a gig. I hadn’t expected him to come into the bar before then. He didn’t seem like the type to just pop in for shits and giggles.

  He’d definitely not been lying about his experience and I wanted to get him on the roster soon as possible.

  "It's just you? No band?" I’d asked him when I called.

  "Just me at the moment. I'm trying to get some guys together but no one has measured up until now. So, I'm a solo act."

  He'd sighed as though the solo thing was weighted with meaning.

  "We'd get a better a crowd with a full band," I said. His demo had been with a band, not solo stuff. "But I'll put you on. You never know, it might be the best way to get to know some local musos. I'm sure you'll find someone."

  I didn’t want to tell him that I’d had a last-minute pull out for Saturday night and urgently needed someone reliable.

  That had been the last time I’d heard from Alex until today.

  He sat down beside me and smiled again.

  "Do you know any cellists?” he asked. “I have some ideas for a cellist in the band."

  I thought through the entire roster that had played in the club. No cellist. I could reel off a list of a thousand guitarists, almost as many bass players and drummers. Keyboards weren't so common but still plentiful. Hell, I even knew a few piano accordion players and a dude who played the combs, but this wasn't the sort of place that attracted cellists. It sounded a bit wanky to me.

  Those eyes, I couldn't keep looking at him or I'd forget all my carefully made promises to myself. Damn it, Alex made me question if I could maybe take a night off from that vow.

  Nope. I couldn’t.

  I rushed back to my office where I was safe until it was time to go upstairs to the band room. On quiet nights like this, I worked at the door collecting the money and stamping wrists in between organizing the bands. Another cost-saving for Chuck.

  Alex came up to join me but I realized I had to check on the second band.

  They should've been setting up already. I knew them though, and they were slackers. I'd have to kick some rocker butt to get them out there. They could cut their set short if they didn't get onstage soon.

  I called Babs to take over from me.

  "I could do that for you," Alex said, poking at the cash box while we waited for Babs.

  "Don't touch that!" I yelled, snatching the cash away from him.

  Why had he even suggested that? Seriously, the guy was cute and all but I would not be leaving someone who wasn't staff in charge of the money.

  "Sorry," he said, putting his hands in the air as though to suggest he wouldn't dream of touching anything.

  I handed the money over to Babs and headed backstage. Maybe I'd been too harsh with Alex. He might've just been trying to help but you couldn't be too careful.

  As I opened the door to the backstage room, the smell of pot almost knocked me out.

  "Hey, you bunch of useless stoners," I yelled at them. "Get yourself up on stage now!"

  A few foggy grumbles greeted me but they did start moving. I noticed the opener band hanging around in the hallway, probably afraid to enter the band room with those guys taking over.

  "Just a moment," I said to them and got a chair to prop the door open and air the smell out.

  I thought Alex would be gone when I got back out but he waited in the same spot. He even had another beer for me.

  “Anyone come in?” I asked Babs.

  She shook her head.

  I sat back down and counted the money in the cash box. Even if Babs was staff, you couldn’t be too careful.

  Chapter 7 ALEX

  I FINE-TUNED MY OUTFIT before I left my apartment. Added a leather wrist cuff. Took one off. Made sure my hair looked casually ruffled.

  It’d been planning for this all week. My Saturday night spot. It’d been a while since I’d been on stage. My first time playing at Trouble but definitely not my last.

  I knew Violet would be hooked. Not that the clothes meant anything, it was the image, the whole package. Once I got on stage, I'd show her I wasn't just another rock star with nothing in his head and a short-range weapon in his pants.

  Violet, she entranced me. I'd gone to the club with the intent of charming her, throwing her a few compliments and treating her to my winning smile in order to get a leg up at the club. God, I needed that. I needed a fresh start and to put all the shit I'd left behind firmly in my past.

  That was the plan. I'd take this town by storm.

  I'd heard through my sources that she was the person to get to know in town. Trouble wasn’t the biggest club I’d played and it wasn’t the fanciest but it had a reputation as a place where industry types hung out, looking for the next big thing. And, since I fully intended being the next big thing, I wanted to make it easy for them to find me.

  I hadn’t planned on anything more than that until I met Violet. I thought I could sweet-talk her and have her like putty in my hands within minutes.

  She wasn't so easy to win over.

  I wasn't averse to a challenge. And she definitely was a challenge but not an unwinnable on
e. She put on that stony front but she'd be a marshmallow underneath it all. Girls like that always were.

  I'd known from the moment she'd fallen into my arms that she was for me. Her legs in those tiny shorts got my cock hard but it was her mouth that got the rest of me interested. Something about the way she twisted it when she was thinking about work intrigued me. I couldn’t get that image out of my mind.

  But she had more than a pretty face and a great set of legs. We were alike, both work-focused and driven.

  The only problem was that meathead who hung around her. I had no idea what his game was but he wasn't her type, anyone could see that. An oaf like him would crush her, physically and mentally.

  My t-shirt stretched nicely over my belly. I patted my stomach, rock hard and sculpted.

  As I walked out the door, I checked my phone. There was a message, someone interested in the "band members wanted" notice I'd put out. I replied as I walked down the street, telling him to show up at the gig if he could make it. He sounded promising.

  The hardest part about starting over was getting a band together. So many idiots wanted to waste my time and most of them weren't even worth auditioning. If they couldn't follow the simple instructions in my ad, it didn't matter how well they played.

  I wanted no egos in my band. I wanted people who could play well but who were as hungry for success as I was. I didn't need a democracy or a bunch of friends. Doing it any other way would never work out. I knew that now.

  I got to the club early, as I'd intended. I sat at the bar downstairs and ordered a whiskey. The bar girl, Carlie, gave me a weird smile as she sat my drink down.

  "We're not supposed to, but you can have this one on the house. You get your drink rider upstairs."

  I nodded my thanks and looked around for Violet but she was nowhere to be seen. That was okay, I could bide my time. There was nothing to gain from being overly anxious.

  When I finished my drink, I headed upstairs. The opening band had started playing. The bass beat thudded through the stairwell as I walked up.