Real Time (2 page)

“I don’t care,” Nick answered. “She is over qualified but I’m not looking a gift horse in the mouth.”

“I saw her play once. Back when she was doing the concert stuff.”

“Really? Where?”

“My niece was at Julliard at the same time. They had a performance and I went to watch. I always wondered what happened to her,” Mickey said.

Nick put the cigarette out in the ash tray. “She said something about a broken hand. It really must have been a bad one if it would have put such a promising career away.”

* * *

K
ate was excited and a little stunned she had gotten the job. It was a known fact through the studio world that Nick Marshall’s band did not have turnover very often and he rarely screened women. Kate thought it had to do with how the press would report the relationship – it added more fuel for the tabloid newspapers. She wasn’t sure whether she got the job for her talent or for the anxiety of not having found someone much sooner in the audition process. Kate was glad for the change; not all the musicians on Satellite’s roster were easy to work with and Kate always seemed to be assigned to those who tried her patience. They were never satisfied and the work became twice as hard as it had to be.

Driving the forty minutes back to the studio, Kate was going over in head exactly what she was going to say to Michael Grayson. She owed a lot to him – he didn’t have to hire her when her dad had asked. It had given her a much needed boost in her confidence level because she hadn’t been sure she was going to be able to continue with any kind of a music career. There had been a lot of damage and sometimes her hand would get stiff and sore when she played for long periods of time. Nick had seemed pleased with how well she played.

Once at the studio, she rode up to the eighth floor, where Michael’s office was located. She had only been up there a couple of times since starting work there but had no difficulty finding it. His secretary, Rebecca, told her he was in a meeting for another hour but was willing to add her to his calendar for later in the afternoon. He only had thirty minutes available – Kate told her it would be more than enough time for what she needed. She left the area, going down to the studio to see where things were at for Jason Doonsby’s album.

Jason was one of those difficult artists to work with. He was never content it appeared, with anything which didn’t take at least five or six retries. He was a big hit with most of the women in the studio, except for Kate, and he would spend lots of time trying to convince her to go out with him. Kate always turned him down, which only seemed to spur him to try harder. She had tried on numerous records to trade the shifts with one of the other keyboard players, so she wouldn’t have to deal with him. Next thing Kate knew, she was permanently assigned to his music; this told her Jason had thrown a fit to Michael.

The red warning light was off on the door for studio B, so she opened door, walking quietly into the sound booth. Jason’s backup singers were on the studio floor, telling Kate the vocals were being done and she wasn’t needed. This was helpful to her peace of mind; she was not looking forward to the conversation she was going to have in about thirty minutes with her boss, and she was not in a good mood to deal with Jason. Thankfully, she only had two songs left and she planned to get those done quickly, especially since she would be leaving with Nick in three weeks. Jason wasn’t going to like it but there wasn’t much he could do about it. Studio musicians were free to quit, same as any other employee. There was not a specified contract stating otherwise, which Kate knew there would be one with Nick.

At five minutes to the hour, Kate was back up on the eighth floor, waiting by Michael’s office. The waiting room was nicely decorated with pretty artwork and there was a large salt-water aquarium along one wall with brightly colored fish. She loved to watch the clown fish as they swam in and out of the coral reef which was built in the middle of the tank. She felt like a ten year old watching all the fish intently until Rebecca interrupted her, telling her she could go into Michael’s office.

Kate walked confidently into the office. Michael Grayson was about six-foot tall, around fifty-eight years old, and wore a three-piece Armani suit. Kate couldn’t remember seeing him wear anything but nice suits, including a matching silk tie and usually a diamond pin. He smiled at her as she walked in; Kate’s step-dad, Allen, was a good friend and she knew him fairly well. Michael motioned to one of the chairs in front of his desk and she sat down.

“What can I do for you, Kate?” Michael asked, starting their conversation.

“I came to give you my verbal resignation,” Kate said, without preamble. “I’ll have the written one on your desk in the morning.”

“Resignation?” he echoed, surprised. “Why are you resigning?”

“I signed on with Nick Marshall this afternoon,” Kate answered.

“With Empire Records?” Michael asked, thinking she was going there to do the same kind of studio work.

“No. Nick hired me to replace his keyboard player.”

“Now I am surprised,” Michael said, raising an eyebrow. “Nick doesn’t audition women. At least he hasn’t in the past.”

“I think he was desperate,” she replied smiling. “He said he’d been having issues finding a piano player. You and I both know playing keyboards isn’t about playing the piano and he didn’t want simply a keyboard player. One of the reasons he rejected Justin two days ago.”

“I’ll be sorry to see you go, Kate,” he said seriously. “Artists ask for you by name to work on their records. I’m going to have some very disappointed folks.”

“I wanted to tell you in person because you were my salvation six years ago when I really needed it. And I also need your help with getting Jason to finish the remaining keyboard tracks this week.”

“I’ll help, but I’m not looking forward to the conversation,” Michael agreed. “When is Nick leaving?”

“Three weeks and I want to have a week free for vacation and things, since I will be six months on the road with him for the first tour. I need to get all my personal stuff in line so I can be gone for such a long stretch.”

Michael stood up and held his hand out to her. Kate took it, shaking his hand. “I wish you the best, Kate,” Michael said sincerely. “And if things don’t work out with Nick, you are welcome back any time.”

“I appreciate all you’ve done, Michael,” she said smiling. “Good to know I have other options if this doesn’t work out.”

A
fter two weeks, Kate was getting the hang of being out on the road. Get on the bus – sometimes all night – get to a hotel, stay two or three days and start the cycle anew. In the beginning, she kept track of what city they were in but by the time they got to New York City, at the middle of the tour, Kate had long since given up. It was one city after another, one hotel after another, and the venues were all pretty much the same. Most were large sports arenas which seated over forty-thousand so there were always large crowds on hand. A couple of times an additional show had been added and kept them an extra day which usually meant an all-nighter on the bus going to the next place.

Kate didn’t mind the all-nighters because the bus was luxurious. It had plush couches in the front with a television, stereo, and six bunk style beds installed in the back. Usually after a long stretch, the beds even started to get comfortable because she was just too tired to care. Kate thought doing studio work had been difficult but she quickly found how out of scope her expectations had been. In spite of the hard work, long hours, and endless stretches of highway, she was enjoying herself. The other band members, Dave, Steve, Andy, and Trent, treated her like one of them instantly – playing practical jokes and including her in some of their escapades. The five of them would go down to the hotel bars after the show sometimes and hang out together, talking and having fun. Nick rarely joined them, as he got recognized easily and didn’t like the crowds which seemed to magically appear. Kate felt like she had found a new home and a new family in the bargain.

She had been a little wary in the beginning that Nick or one of the guys might come onto her and try to get her into bed, but, surprisingly, they were consistently gentlemen around her. All but Nick and Trent were married. Trent treated her like a kid sister, even though Kate was older, and Nick didn’t talk to her much. He spent most of his time with Mickey going over each coming show and usually shut himself up in his hotel room the rest of the time. So they made it easy for her to fit in, laugh and joke, and she usually beat them playing cards. She was cutthroat, showing no mercy, and they respected her, although they used swear words in interesting combinations when she would win the ante pot. The security guys treated her the same way. Maybe even more protective as this was their main job – to keep the band members safe, especially from over-zealous fans.

Kate was nervous at the first show but she was professional enough it wasn’t noticeable. Nick was observant enough to come over and make sure she was good. One of the questions he forgot to ask when he auditioned her was whether or not she got stage fright. She told him she was fine and indeed she was. Based on where the keyboards were located, she got a good view of the musician Nick Marshall. Everything about him exuded strength and confidence. He wore black motorcycle boots – she had jokingly asked him before the first show if he even had a motorcycle, to which he had said yes. He did admit he’d had the boots longer than the bike, which made her laugh. Nick wore black pants and a sleeveless button down shirt, usually leaving two or three buttons open. His hair was growing out – it was past shoulder length and she suspected he wore it long during shows for the effect. ‘The effect’ consisted of a whole arena or stadium full of girls screaming his name. Kate had to admit he did provide a nice view, even though she didn’t see him as more than her employer. For the rest of the band, Nick didn’t care what was worn for performances – whatever was most comfortable on stage, as long as it looked nice.

The bus was currently stopped at a big hotel in Manhattan. Normally, the routine was for Mickey to hop out, go inside and register, while the bus would pull up to one of the back doors. Once Mickey came back, everyone would pile out, grab a suitcase, and head for their room. Whenever possible, Nick would reserve an entire floor just to maintain privacy and make it easier on security since no one but the maids were allowed up on that particular floor. This hotel had no apparent “back” door, so as soon as Mickey had the registration completed, everyone got off the bus, took a room key from him, and made their way through the gorgeous lobby. Kate was lagging behind, admiring the furnishings and the way it was all laid out when she heard her name called. She turned around, surprised to see her ex-husband, Kevin Miles, standing there.

“Kevin,” she answered hesitantly, as he walked over to her. Ten years had changed him; his dark brown hair had grayed around the temples and he looked fifty, not the thirty-two she knew he was.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, looking her over. It had been almost ten years since their divorce. She watched him as he looked her over, almost a leer in his eyes.

She nodded to the security guard who was waiting. “Go ahead, Brock,” she told him. “I’ll be okay.” The security guard walked away but not completely out of sight. “I work for Nick Marshall these days,” she said, turning back to Kevin. “We have three shows at the Garden.” ‘The Garden’ obviously meant Madison Square Garden.

“That’s a step down for you isn’t it?” he asked, with a snide tone.

“I don’t think so,” she countered. “It’s a lot of hard work. A lot harder than the studio work I’d been doing.”

“And I’m sure the nights are hard too.”

Kate started to see red, picking up his innuendo. Their year of marriage was filled with these types of comments and statements meant to demean her. “You didn’t just insinuate I got the job because I’m sleeping with Nick or the band, did you?”

He started to laugh. “Well, if the shoe fits.”

Without another word, Kate reached over and slapped him hard across the face. “How dare you! You have no right to criticize or judge me. I don’t have to sleep around to get any job!”

She started to walk off but he angrily grabbed her arm. It was apparent a fight was about to ensue as Kevin raised his hand up to return the slap. Before he could connect, a large hand interfered, stopping him.

“Go on upstairs, Kate,” Brock said quietly, staring Kevin down. Kate walked away toward the elevator. Once the door had closed, Brock released his grip. “I think the lady made herself clear. I advise you to stay away.”

Brock walked away while Kevin remained standing there, angry at being stopped. He was going to follow him but thought better of it and walked over to the front desk. He asked for Kate’s room number, but when he gave her name, they told him the hotel didn’t have anyone registered by her name. He tried Nick also, but the desk clerk said she couldn’t give him any of Nick’s information, per the contract they had with the musician.
She’ll have to come back out this way
he thought, moving over to a chair so that he could watch the elevator.
We will continue this when she comes back down
, Kevin thought, settling down to wait. It had been ten years but he had finally found her.

* * *

U
p on the eighth floor, Kate’s heart had stopped pounding from her encounter and she found her room easily. It was a suite with a sitting room, bathroom and bedroom – which was standard because Nick usually had one of the security people sleeping in the sitting room. Sometimes there would be two bedrooms attached to one sitting room, but she was glad this one was a single. Kate tossed her suitcase in the corner and sat down in one of the chairs, still shaky from the brief exchange with Kevin. She hadn’t seen him since the day he knocked her down the stairs of their apartment – her attorney had kept her from having to face him physically in court when they were going through the divorce. She had hoped after ten years he could at least be civil but it was obvious he was still angry. Kate didn’t understand why the anger was directed at her – he had gotten the scholarship they had been competing over and the job with the London Philharmonic as a featured pianist. Matter of fact, their divorce should have helped as he’d been able to move to London with no strings attached. And he had a fabulous career with them, staying on after the internship.