People would never stop asking, so unless I wanted to bury my head in the sand and never speak to another human until my next album was in the bag, I had to have an answer for this question. Angeline and I had gone over it.
Remember what we rehearsed, her eyes seemed to say.
“Soon,” I said. “JC and Miles just moved on from Breakneck, so we’re regrouping.” That was Angeline’s buzz word.Regrouping.As in, I don’t have a group, so I need to regroup. She said it had a positive, deliberate spin. Like it was a conscious choice. We didn’t break up. JC and Miles moved on. And now,regrouping.
Hopefully into something better than before.
“Ah, shit,” Dylan sympathized. “I heard that. Well, hey it happens. Look what happened with the Players, though. Whatever you put together next could go big, even bigger than before.”
“I fucking hope so.”
Amber suddenly noticed us and turned around. “Hey. Johnny,” she said carefully, as Dylan slid an arm around her.
“Amber. You look beautiful,” I told her. She did. But I also figured it was the appropriate thing to say to one’s ex-wife when running into her at a formal event. Which I had done, from time to time, over the years. Every time, we’d been civil. And every time, she just looked better.
Life as the wife of Dylan Cope agreed with her.
She wore a champagne-gold beaded dress tonight, kind of bohemian glam, which was very Amber, her wavy caramel hair loose, a beaded silk flower on one side.
“Thank you,” she said, kissing Angeline on the cheek when Angeline went in for a hug. They exchanged a quick word I couldn’t hear, and I noticed the way they held onto one another’s arms as they spoke, before letting each other go. They were friendly. Of course.
For the first time, I wondered what delightful things my ex-wife might’ve said about me over the years, to whomever. Like maybe to the girls.
Not that I particularly cared. Until right this moment.
I drew Angeline gently back to my side as Dylan brought Amber up to speed on the conversation. Amber seemed friendly enough, yet guarded as she listened, eying me with her pale green eyes.
“You’re rebuilding your band, then?” she asked me politely. “Ashley went through something similar, with the Players. Maybe it will work out for the best?”
Very polite.
“Yeah. Thank you,” I forced the politeness back. How soon could I get out of this conversation?
“I hear Coop’s still looking for something permanent,” Dylan offered, referring to Ashley Player’s ex-bassist. I hadn’t thought of Andy Cooper, but he’d probably be a step up from Miles.
“Really? I’ll keep that in mind.”
“He might even be willing to play on the album and see how that goes. If you need someone in-studio, quick.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” The recommendation was kind of Dylan. I didn’t really know what else to say. Felt weirdly like anything I might say could be taken the wrong way, given the audience.
Luckily, I didn’t have to force conversation much longer because Summer swept in. After I’d congratulated her on the club, she nudged Dylan aside to introduce him to some people, Amber went with them, and I managed to slip away with Angeline.
Who apparently wanted me to talk to like a hundred more people before the night was finally through. According to her, we were just getting started.
I could see she was getting an adrenaline charge out of all of this. Her eyes were sparkling, her cheeks flushed.
Gave me an idea of how she might look if we’d just made out in the washroom.
But it wasn’t enough to keep me around. I went along with it as long as I could stand, but she really had no idea, apparently, how shit this night was for me.
“You’re doing fine,” she said to me, once, after she left me to use the ladies’ room and I told her I’d come within an inch of ditching out the back door while she was gone. “Making friends, remember? There’s no time like the present to make a new friend.”
I couldn’t even stop the roll of my eyes. The woman was a living Care Bear.
I was not like her.
I wasn’t warm, sweet, cute or, apparently, likable. I had no idea how to open my life or my heart to people. I really didn’t know how to put myself out there to try to win people back over, either.
