Page 70 of Hot Mess
I’d known her long enough to know that. I’d seen her command a stage, a crowd, an entire venue—alone. No backing band. Just her and her deck and her music.
More than I could pull off, maybe.
She didn’t have to prove herself to me.
As for what kind of music we’d make together? I had no clue.
“I can’t believe you talked to Elle about this before you talked to me,” I muttered.
Summer sighed. “You know she’s like my sister, she’s dead honest with me and she’s musically brilliant. Not to mention she’s a fucking megastar. So any advice she throws my way, I’m gonna take it.”
Yeah. I knew that.
“Anyway. You know we can’t get Dylan,” she added softly, “but we will need a kick-ass drummer and a killer bassist. I think Matt fills the bassist bill. I don’t happen to know any shit-hot drummers looking for a gig right now, so if you happen to have any in your back pocket, let me know.”
“Will do.”
I did happen to know one kick-ass drummer who would easily fit the bill, actually.
Fucking Xander.
The dude had talent, style to the max, and plenty of adoring fans. And right now, he had a band. He was back out on the road with Steel Trap as we spoke, though I’d heard he wasn’t all that happy with them.
What he didn’t have was any trust in me, probably. Which meant I wouldn’t even bother mentioning it to Summer. I’d already kinda screwed him out of a position in a band once (oops), and he’d never really let it go.
We were still friends, more or less, but he still made digs about it almost every time I saw him.
“And maybe another guitarist?” Summer added. “But I’ll leave that up to you.”
“Jesus, you’re pushy. I’ll think about it.”
“And we need an incredible producer,” she pushed. “Like we need to go big on this or go home. I’m not ready for that yet, and I know it. But we could approach Woo when we have a demo.”
“Maybe.” I really wasn’t sure if Dirty’s longtime record producer would take us on.
Hard to know when you’d never exactly asked.
“Or Cary Clarke.” She looked at me sidelong.
“Christ, you’re ballsy.”
“Why? He’s local. He’s fucking huge. He’s alegend. We’re gonna be legends, too. Why wouldn’t he work with us?”
Man, she was confident.
Had to admire that about her.
“I dunno, Summer. Is there anyone in the music biz in Vancouver you feel you couldn’t call up right now?”
“Not hardly, sweetheart.”
“Yeah?” I challenged. “You think you can get Cary Clarke on the phone?”
She frowned at me. I couldn’t get Cary Clarke on the phone, either.
Xander could, undoubtedly. I knew he was still tight with Cary, was one of the few people who still had access to the guy. They’d been in a band together, years ago.
Before Cary went nuts.
