Kim covered her mouth with both hands. “What did you just say?”
“I said, if they’re taking time off, so am I.” Tyler shrugged. “Anyway, we’re scrambling to find another TM for this corporate gig, but don’t worry. I told Sebastien I’d sort it out.” She scanned the room, eyeing the drums, amps, and mics to make sure the backline was good to go. “So, Vegas is flying in tomorrow?”
“Yeah, tomorrow morning. I’m picking him up.”
“Is everything cool with you guys?”
“Dude, he’s the best!”
“He is the best.” She agreed wholeheartedly.
“How’s Cary?” Kim stretched a grin across her face.
Tyler narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, knowing it was Kim’s handiwork, booking the room and car service. “The Marilyn Suite was a little much, don’t you think?”
“Sorry, my bad.” Kim stared at her for a few seconds but didn’t speak.
“What?” Tyler wiped the sides of her mouth with her hand. “Do I have something on my face?”
“You know he’s, like, fucking in love with you, right?”
She made a pouty face, clearly regretting the fight. “Yeah, we kind of had a blowout.”
Kim’s gaze became still. “What happened?”
“I kind of freaked out.” She pulled out her topknot and wrapped it up tighter. “He wants to stay in Malibu tonight but I have meetings tomorrow and want to stay at the hotel.”
“Sounds tragic.”
Tyler shrugged. “I think he’s wasting my time, like Dave. Everything’s about him and I’m sick of it.”
“Dude, are you fucking kidding me right now? He talks about you, like, every second of the day. I literally have to stop the guy from buying you dumb shit at airports. ‘Will Tyler like this? Will Tyler like that?’” She lowered her voice. “He’d kill me for telling you, but he checked your Insta every hour before I told him to turn on his notifications.”
“Bitches!” a woman’s voice echoed from across the room. Her dark, shaggy hair bounced as she walked toward them. She was a dead ringer for eighties Chrissie Hynde, and not by accident. The Pretenders were her favorite band.
“Allie Kowalski,” Tyler said, hugging her friend. “Thanks for coming.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Allie said, then smiled at Kim. “Congrats on the CK tour. I hear you’re killing it, man.”
“See?” Tyler said.
“I’m stoked about seeing this band.” Allie checked her phone, presumably for offers. “They sounded good on TikTok.” She glanced up briefly. “I mean, who sounds good on TikTok, amirite?”
“There’s a huge buzz around Yestown,” Kim said. “I had to shut down the guest list. It was getting ridiculous.”
Allie’s thumbs were busy texting. “What are they like to work with?”
“Dude, they’re so pro, easy-peasy.”
Tyler gave Kim a tight-lipped smile and nodded, acknowledging the compliment.
“I’m signing them.” Allie lowered her phone. “Before the vultures get here. Fucking sycophants in LA, I’m telling you.”
“Don’t you want to meet them first?” Tyler asked.
Allie shook her head. “No, I’m good, man.”
When the doors opened at seven p.m., a flood of people rushed to the stage to secure their positions. The Troubadour was a general admission venue: first come, first served.
