Page 71 of Love Scenes

Abruptly, he lets go of my hands and sprints around the side of the stage.

It all happens so fast I can’t process what’s going on until I hear him say into the mic, “Don’t mind me, I’m a jammy bastard, stealing up a few last moments of rehearsal time with our star.” There is not the slightest waver in his voice. He is all brogue and charm.

My eyes well with tears. I’m glad I’m still backstage, because I need a moment to process how it is we’ve gotten to the point where the sound of his persona makes me want to cry.

He’s doing this for me, putting on the full Joseph Donovan Brand.

“You have to forgive me,” he says to the audience. “She is the woman of the night, after all. A lass that’s made more of a difference in people’s lives in one day than most of us have done in a whole lifetime. When she cares about something, she gives it everything she has. So it’s time for the lot of you to show her some love back. Please give it up for the one and only Sloane Ford!”

He’s stolen Glori’s intro from her, which she’s quick to let me know as I pass her onstage, walking on as she walks off. Joseph hands me the mic, no trace of the nerves he showed me only a minute ago.

Our fingers brush.

It’s electric.

He smiles, encouraging me forward. “You suck, I suck,” he whispers in my ear.

My nerves are replaced by a warmth that spreads through me the same way alcohol does. I feel buttery somehow. Loose. Free.

“Good evening, everyone,” I say into the mic. The crowd roars in response. “Thank you again for coming out tonight. You already know how much this foundation means to me, so I don’t need to say it again. Instead, I have a favor to ask of you. We’ve had a little last-minute snag, and we’re without a drummer.”

The audience goes quiet.

“Exactly. Not much of a show to do without the percussion, right? So I’m wondering if there’s someone out here in this very talented crowd who is brave enough to come up and play with us?”

The shell-shocked silence continues.

“Come on! It’s only three songs. You’ll know them when you hear them. And! You will be up here making a memory to last you a lifetime.”

Still no takers.

“I don’t know if all of you know this,” I start. Bless the looseness of my limbs. Otherwise I’d surely keel over. “Last year, this jam band featured two men who were pretty important in my life at the time. And Keanu Reeves, who is always important in my life, but not really the point of what I’m about to say.”

Thank god they laugh at that.

“If you’ve read any news about me lately, you’d know that those other two, non-Keanu guys haven’t done me much good this past year. And I’ve been working really hard to overcome all of it. Lucky for me, I’ve had a lot of amazing people in my corner helping that along. Coming together to solve what could have been a real disaster. A celebrity jam band with no celebrities to jam! What horror!”

The audience laughs again.

Little by little, it’s working.

“These people you see behind me, ranging from my superstar baby sister, to my wonderful costar, to a Grammy Award–winning bassist, to an unbelievably amazing musician who happens to share a certain ex in common with me. They all came here tonight with the sole goal of helping me out. It would be a real shame if we couldn’t play this music for you the way we intended to, with a drummer behind us to drive it all home. All for a cause that’s really incredible, if I do say so myself. So I ask again, who wants to come up and play?”

The silence stretches again.

Breaking through the hush is a clear, confident “I will.”

My eyes roam the crowd for the source. Then I see. The wide-legged gait. The backward pageboy cap and the gap-toothed smile. Guy Cicero ambling his way onto the stage.

The crowd starts to slow clap. “Don’t bother with that yet!” he yells, waving them off. “Save it for my finale!”

“You play the drums?” I whisper once he’s up here with us.

“My dear, my father was a drummer.” He grins proudly, then moves himself behind the drum set. Takes the pair of sticks from atop the seat and spins one through his fingers. “Get ready for the ride of your life!” he tells both the audience and all of us onstage, though honestly, I don’t think there’s any way to get ready for what’s about to happen.

Garrett turns his back to the crowd to whisper to Guy, telling him our songs and talking about time signatures and other musical stuff that’s going all the way over my head. It might be over Guy’s head too, but he is nothing if not consistent, full-wattage grinning and nodding as if this is exactly what he woke up this morning planning to do.

Joe starts fiddling with his guitar, strumming random chords, tapping his foot and doing little hops and walks.