“Quinn said the spot was mine,” I protested. “I quit another band for this.”
“It’s not about that.” Tucker grimaced, sweat pouring down his face. He swayed in place. “I’ve got to find a place to sit.”
I could clearly see his pain, and despite the fact he was about to let me go, I strode over to my stool and dragged it across the room for him. Even helped him onto it. He grumbled the entire time but accepted my assistance.
“Thank you,” he said, looking embarrassed. I could imagine this wasn’t the type of guy who asked for help very often; but then, he also hadn’t asked to be wounded on stage. “When Quinn told me you two played together as teenagers, I wasn’t hopeful. Figured you’d suck. But I’m pleasantly surprised, and typically I’m not either of those things.”
No, I didn’t think he was. I stood there, hands crossed in front of me, waiting patiently for the firing. But then I thought better of it. The least I could do was put up a damn fight.
“Mr. Beckett, I know what you’re going to say, but I’ll work harder. Stay later. I’ll do whatever needs to be done to have the set down in time for the tour. Just give me this chance. I promise I won’t let you down.”
“That’s good to know, Higgins. Although this is of a more personal matter. What’s the situation with you and Grace?”
There was no hiding my surprise. “Quinn told you?”
“No, I overheard Tweedledee and Tweedledum in the bathroom.”
Mike and Matty, I assumed, but I didn’t know the band well enough to confirm the validity of those nicknames.
“We dated as teenagers,” I said.
“And it didn’t end well?”
“It did not.”
He nodded. “She’s been hired to work with the band to write songs for the second album. We’ve got her traveling on the tour bus, so work can get done on the road.”
“I know. Quinn already told me.”
Quinn also told me he wanted to keep my involvement in the band a secret from Grace. No issue for me since I had zero communication with her. According to him, Grace was out of town and dealing with some “issues,” and he didn’t want to stress her out. He’d made the decision to tell her when she returned in two weeks. The way he explained it, it didn’t seem like a big deal. The way Tucker was obviously perceiving it, it did.
“My question for you is, will that be a problem?”
“No. It’s been five years. We’ve both moved on.”
“You sure about that?”
I may have blinked one time too many, and Tucker picked right up on it. He sighed. “That’s what I thought. This whole thing is too much of a liability. I can’t risk the band imploding because the two of you can’t get along.”
“So that’s it, then? I’m fired?”
“You? I’ve been trying to get those fuckers to pick a drummer for months. No, Higgins, your spot on the bus is safe. It’s Grace who has to go.”
Time slowed as I processed the gravity of his words. For my dreams to come to fruition, Grace’s had to die. She was going to lose her job because of me.
“No, really, she and I…”
He raised a hand to stop me. “Normally, I never mix the sexes on a tour. In those tight quarters, it’s ripe for drama. The only reason I got the studio to bankroll Grace was because she wrote the biggest hit song the band has had, and she’s Quinn’s sister. The others wouldn’t dream of touching her. But you”—Tucker eyed me skeptically—“you’re going to be a problem.”
“No, I promise. I won’t touch her.”
But Tucker wasn’t listening, instead talking strategy to himself out loud. “We’ll make it a budget cut issue. She doesn’t have to know the real reason.”
Oh, she’d know. Grace would take one look at who was sitting behind the kit and know why she’d been expelled.
“No one has to go. Can’t you at least give us a chance to prove we’re professionals and can handle being in close quarters without killing each other?”
“It’s the not killing each other part that worries me. What happens if Quinn finds the two of you banging in the bathroom? Or worse, Grace finds you hooking up with a groupie in the bunk right next to hers? I tell you what: Arma-fucking-geddon. But that’s not your problem, is it? No, it’s mine. I’m the one who’ll have to clean up the blood. Cover up the crime.”
