She finished up the blowjob, swallowed down the offering without spilling a drop, and still had enough time to reapply her makeup and rinse out her mouth with another glass of wine before they arrived at the rehearsal warehouse.
“I’ll give you a call when we’re ready for pick-up,” Jake told Tony, their driver, after passing him a folded green piece of paper with a picture of Ulysses S. Grant on it.
“My cell phone is on, Jake,” Tony promised, taking the bill and making it disappear. “I’ll be here ten minutes after you call.”
“Good enough,” Jake said, taking Laura’s arm.
They went inside the building, where the stage, the lighting, and the soundboard had all been set up in the exact configuration that was going to be used in the actual venues out on tour. Though the warehouse was much smaller than a concert venue, there was still enough room for a couple of dozen folding chairs between the soundboard and the stage. Many of these chairs were already occupied by men in suits. These were bigwigs from Aristocrat Records, Brogan Guitars, and the Yamaha Corporation’s music division. The Aristocrat suits were here because they were financing the tour and were entitled to see what they were paying for (even if they didn’t like it). The Brogan and Yamaha people were here because several of the musicians in the band had signed endorsement contracts with them for the tour and they wanted to see what they were paying for.
Jake led Laura over to these front row chairs and introduced her to the suits. She shook their hands, told them she was happy to meet them, and smiled pretty for them, knowing she would not remember a single name, and hoping she would not have to talk too much to them.
She did not. After making small talk for less than five minutes, Greg came in through the front door. He was alone, dressed in a custom-tailored business suit complete with jacket and tie. Laura rushed over to greet him and gave him a big hug before kissing him on both cheeks. Greg seemed very pleased with the greeting, his smile genuine instead of an actor’s pretend smile.
“You look as beautiful as ever, Laura,” Greg told her.
“Thank you,” she said, feeling herself blush a little. She loved Jake with all her heart, but it was always flattering to have a handsome Hollywood actor call you beautiful.
“Are you going to come with Jake to the premier of So Others May Live?” he asked her.
“Absolutely!” she said. “I’m looking forward to it. I’ve never been to a real Hollywood premier before.”
“It’s just like going to see a film at your local movie theater,” he assured her. “Except, you know, the dress is formal, and there are a bunch of stars and directors there, and there are appetizers prepared by the best chefs in the region.”
“Jake said the drinks are free?” she asked.
“The drinks are free,” he assured her.
“That’s all you had to say,” she said. She then leaned forward and gave him another kiss on the cheek.
Pauline and the Nerdlys showed up next. Laura had had a meeting with Pauline, her manager, shortly after arriving back home, so she rushed right by her to give big hugs to Bill (who blushed furiously as she embraced him) and especially to Sharon.
“Congratulations!” she told the master of audio engineering, who was already exhibiting a distinct glow. “Jake told me the news last week. It’s so exciting, isn’t it?”
“It’s actually kind of nauseating, truth be told,” Sharon said. “Now I understand what my mother is always holding over my head.”
“The tendency toward circadian rhythm disturbances and early day nausea and emesis should pass around the completion of the first trimester,” Bill said matter-of-factly. “At least all of the internet research I’ve done on the subject seems to suggest this.”
“Early day nausea my ass,” Pauline said sourly. “When I was growing the clump, I’d puke any fucking time, day or night, usually with only six or so seconds of warning.”
“Did this condition resolve by the end of the first trimester though?” asked Bill.
“More or less,” Pauline said with a shrug.
“That is fortunate,” Bill said. “I am quite looking forward to the surge of hormones in the second trimester that is purported to trigger increased sexual desire.”
“The second trimester horniness,” Pauline said with a fond nod of the head. “That’s a real thing. Obie almost didn’t survive it.”
“He told me he had to turn it down a few times during that phase,” Jake said.
Pauline nodded. “This is true. He’s such an old man.”
“How much longer until he comes home?” Laura asked.
“He’ll be here for Greg’s premier,” Pauline said. “The final tour date is May 16th in Portland. Tabs and I are going to fly up there to catch the show and then spend a little time in Coos Bay.”
“You’re going to bring a baby to a concert?” Laura asked.
“Damn right,” Pauline said. “She’s from a musical family, isn’t she? I want her first concert to be her daddy’s—even if it is that crappy-ass country music.”
7:30 was rapidly approaching, so everyone found seats to plant their respective butts in. Laura and Jake sat as far away from the suits of Aristocrat, Brogan, and Yamaha as they possibly could. The Nerdlys tried to sit at the sound board so they could monitor the hand-picked engineers and techs they had assembled for the day to day operations, but were soundly rejected on the grounds that it was time to let their little birds fly free. They ended up sitting next to Jake and Laura. Greg sat on the other side of Jake and sipped from a glass of wine he’d poured from the small bar that had been set up.
The opening band was a group called Flex, an alternative rock group from Minneapolis that Aristocrat had signed six months before. Flex’s debut album, titled Under the Surface, had been released for sale three weeks before and the title cut was getting some decent airplay across the nation. They were, of course, operating under a first-time contract that exploited them horribly and pretty much guaranteed that, no matter how successful they became, they would do nothing but lose money and go into debt to Aristocrat. The owners of KVA Records did not approve of this, but they knew it was the world they lived in and there was little they could do about it.
Flex took the stage and played a forty-five minute set that included every cut on their debut album and two unrecorded songs. Laura was not terribly impressed with them, but she understood that this was primarily due to her still-present prejudice against rock and roll music. Good rock could impress her—Jake had shown her that—but almost never at first listen, and only if it was truly good. Flex did not have the sound of something that might eventually grow on her.
The newbies finished their set and then left the stage to the sound of polite applause from the fifteen people who made up the audience. The roadies began to clear Flex’s equipment from the stage so Celia could come on in thirty minutes. It was as much a dress rehearsal for the roadies and the techies as it was for the musicians—maybe even more so.
“Where do you think you’re going, Nerdlys?” Jake asked as Bill and Sharon began to rise from their seats.
“We just want to have a brief word with Flint and Jeff over on the sound board,” Nerdly said.
“Right,” said Sharon. “The mid-range on the bass was just a little too high and the secondary mic volume was a little too low. We want to make sure that...”