Slash and Burn Page 4
Brina had set two cans of Red Bull on the table in the studio, even though Valerie always kept the mini fridge in there full of bottled water. Sometimes she’d make hot tea with lemon for Brad if his throat was bothering him. Since having throat surgery years ago—the need for said surgery the reason why she had to stop singing lead for Fully Automatic—she’d learned tricks to keep her vocal organs in tiptop shape as well as had vocal training so that the strain on her throat and vocal chords wouldn’t end in further damage. She was dedicated to keeping her voice this time, and she hoped it would serve her well for years to come. Nick knew how utterly devastated Val had been when her voice betrayed her in the early days. They’d finally snagged a contract with a label but Val’s voice let her down. She’d tried to record several songs and wasn’t able to deliver, so Brad stepped in and took over at her request. The band members felt bad that she wasn’t able to continue, especially since many of her lyrics helped propel them to stardom. But Brad loved her and knew returning to music was something she not only wanted but needed to feel fulfilled, so he knew the next best thing was to give his wife her own band. Nick could honestly say he hadn’t seen her this happy in a long time. Sure, he knew Val loved her husband and children and they brought her happiness, but she really was at home when standing in front of the mike. That she’d learned to play guitar and had started writing music as well was just a bonus. Nick thought Val was a hell of a writer, so he was honored to be part of her new band.
Sabrina “Sinna” Moreno, who preferred to be called Brina, was turning out to be the icing on the cake…albeit cool icing. Nick wasn’t going to complain. This woman was reawakening a boyish lustfulness inside him, and he knew the upcoming weeks of writing and rehearsing were going to be fun in a way he hadn’t experienced in quite some time.
Brad was hooking up this, that, and the other thing, and Val was kissing the kids on the tops of their heads out in the yard. Gracie was wearing shorts and a tank top, looking cute as usual, while playing with them, too. Chris and Hayley seemed to adore the woman, and from what she’d told Nick, she enjoyed the job. It was demanding at times—because kids will be that way—but she enjoyed Val’s children and found the job rewarding. Gracie was another bonus for Nick, because, strangely enough, the woman was slowly becoming the best friend he’d ever had…in spite of the awkward situation they’d found themselves in earlier that week. But, because they were good friends, Nick knew they’d get past that rough patch.
He’d have to find a way to return that bra, but maybe she could tuck it in her purse the next time they partied together. Giving her back her missing underwear would close the awkward door and help their relationship return to some sort of normalcy.
His friendship with Gracie was also strange because he’d never been close friends with a woman. He considered Val a good friend, but he’d never gotten close enough that they shared personal information. That wasn’t a bad thing, because he and Val respected the hell out of one another, and that made for a solid business relationship.
Val walked into the studio, all smiles. Yep, being immersed in music suited the woman. She hadn’t glowed like this since her pregnancy with Hayley. She was born to rock, and Nick thought it was about time she was back at the helm. He could tell from the look on Brad’s face that he felt the same way.
Brina, though…it was hard to read from her facial expressions exactly what it was the woman was thinking. If he’d ever known anyone to wear a poker face, she had them topped. Her expression was perennially cool and much like a statue, in that it rarely changed, and she sometimes looked hard.
It just added to her mysterious aura and certainly didn’t ease Nick’s need for her one bit. Nope, there was only one way to get a woman like this out of his system, and it involved playing rough. Fortunately, she seemed like the kind of woman who could keep her heart out of it and just enjoy it for what it was.
Either that…or she was a Fatal Attraction kind of gal.
Val walked over to the mini fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. She said, “Anything I put in the fridge is up for grabs, Brina, so help yourself anytime.”
Brina winked—actually winked at Val—and said, “Thanks. I brought my own poison today.” She nodded toward the cans she’d placed on the table, but her fingers were busy tuning her bass.
“That’s cool. Just wanted you to know.” Val walked over and kissed her husband on the cheek and then smiled at Nick. “We’re glad you’re here, Brina. Now, I’ve tried to figure out how we gel and move forward as a unit, and what I thought might work best is if we play the first four songs we’ve put together, letting you write your part. We can do it live or we can play it for you and either give it to you recorded or on paper and come back to it. Let me know how you want to go about it.”
Brina’s smile was cocky. Nick liked that. “Nah. I got it. I like to work through it as I go. That’s how my brain works.”
“Sounds good.” Brad, Val, and Nick played through the first song several times, music only, until Brina felt ready to contribute. When she did, she blew them away. Yeah, she played a solid bassline that often paralleled the guitars but sometimes it sounded discordant—in a very cool way. That was the part that, if he wasn’t mistaken, had been rubbing Brad the wrong way. It felt like she was trying to stand out rather than blend in. If she’d been doing it throughout the whole song, he could see why Brad would get irritated, but she didn’t even do it over any guitar solo parts. She chose to play her unusual stuff during the final verse’s last two lines—and Nick felt like it was a huge contribution and would make their sound unusual in a good way…just like Val had wanted. She’d said at the beginning of her venture that she didn’t want to sound like everybody else. Brina’s bass would be just one part of that.
Val seemed pleased, and they played the song through a few times until Val said, “I think it’s great. What do you guys think?”
There was general assent around the room, and so Val announced that it was time for lunch. Gracie had called for pizza and it should be there anytime. Brina declared that she “didn’t do pizza” and said she’d leave for a bite and be back.
“Do you like salad? I had Gracie order a couple of salads to go with, too.”
Brina seemed to consider it, looking down toward the floor for a moment and blinking twice. Then she asked, “What kind of lettuce?”
Nick almost started laughing but didn’t want to insult this woman of intrigue. Val said, “I have no idea. We’ve gotten their salads before, but I can’t remember. I know they throw a lot of chopped veggies in it usually—things like diced tomatoes and green peppers, black olives, a few red onions.”
Brina shrugged. “Okay. I’ll stay.”
“Great.” Val tilted her head, indicating to everyone that the food awaited them in the house. When they stepped out of the studio, Gracie and the kids were already indoors. When the rest of them walked in the kitchen, they saw that Gracie had the kids at the table eating. Hayley had a small bowl of pasta in red sauce on her high chair tray, and Nick envisioned the toddler covered in it by the end of the meal. He knew, because he’d seen it before. Chris had taken two bites of his pizza, and, much as the child loved it, Nick knew he likely wouldn’t eat the whole slice either.
Uncle Nick planned to eat half a pie if they’d let him. He had a hell of an appetite today, and he had other desires that had to be sublimated. Food always helped. Yeah, he could get laid elsewhere, but Brina was beginning to make all the competition look quite pale.
They sat down and Brina seemed pleased. As she scooped the salad on her plate, she said, “Romaine. Very good,” and smiled. Actually smiled. That was a first. Seeing that look on her face made Nick grin too, because she had gleaming white teeth and an engaging smile. It put Nick in the mind of a model…only what was different about Brina was what was intriguing him. She had a nose piercing, and she had worn a hoop all but one of the times he’d seen her, as well as multiple ear piercings and a hoop on her bottom lip. Dam
n. She was incredibly hot without even trying. Add to it the tattoos, jewelry, and the shit she wore—usually something tight, black, and there was often some kind of chain or metal somewhere in the mix. All that, and Nick could barely contain himself.
The meal was enjoyable, filled with a lot of laughter and joking. Brina smiled off and on but mostly stayed quiet, and Nick was sure it was because she felt a little out of place. He knew that often people needed time to settle in. Nick wasn’t that way. His philosophy was that no one was a stranger for long, and he always had the volume turned up. Either people accepted him at his most obnoxious, with his weird sense of humor and unstoppable mouth…or they didn’t. And he was okay either way. People were going to make their judgments anyway, so why not give them a full dose early on and help them make up their mind more quickly?
And that was also the problem with Brina. Nick had taken that approach with her too, but she was so damned hard to read. He couldn’t tell if she found his humor endearing or irritating. The woman held her cards close to her chest. She was an enigma. Ordinarily, that would have prompted Nick to come on stronger to try to get the woman to open up and feel confident, but those were not the vibes Nick was getting from Brina, nor did he think that pushing harder would help. She wasn’t some timid rabbit who needed sweet talking and stroking. No. Nick was under the impression that she had a shell around her, yes, but it was there on purpose. She wasn’t shy; she was guarded and maybe even jaded, and who knew why. Maybe she’d had a taste of fame in her indie band as well and so she didn’t trust people. Or maybe it was something from her childhood.
It didn’t matter what had made her that way; Nick wanted to know, ached to discover her secrets. And he would. By God, he would, if it was the last thing he did.
* * *
Two weeks of practices didn’t much change Brina’s relationships with the band members. She remained aloof and seemed untouchable. She was definitely a professional. She came to each practice, did her job and did it well (and even Brad was starting to admit he was growing used to her different way of playing), and then she left. She didn’t seem interested in bonding with her bandmates.
Well, she wouldn’t have much of a choice once they hit the road.
They were now working on new material, so they weren’t meeting as often. Val wanted everyone to have their own personal practice time, but she also thought everyone needed the time away to be creative. And when they did get together, it was for half a day. At the rate they were going, though, they’d be recording soon, and Nick couldn’t wait to hear the end result. He knew from experience that Fully Automatic’s songs always sounded a little different once cleaned up and mixed professionally, and he knew Val Hella’s would be no different. It wasn’t a bad thing, but it always took a little getting used to. It probably was even more noticeable to Nick, because he was always at an unusual vantage point from his kit. Whatever the case, they always sounded good on the disc, and that was all that mattered.
But two weeks…it just didn’t make sense. Half a month and the woman’s shell hadn’t cracked. The ice hadn’t melted. She was just as closed off and battened down as she had been when she’d first auditioned. What was he going to have to do to thaw her out?
Chapter Five
LESS THAN TWO months later, they were recording, laying down tracks for the fans to enjoy. They also had a video shoot scheduled for the first single. The label would determine which songs would get radio play, with or without the band’s suggestions. Nick didn’t care which ones made it to the airwaves, because he thought they were all solid.
Once it was all mixed together, Nick experienced that weird feeling, the one where the songs sounded slightly different to his ears all mixed together in a nice, neat package than they did when they played live in Brad’s studio. It was a feeling of disorientation, as though someone had pulled the planet out from underneath him. After he’d listened for a bit, though, he was able to settle in, getting pulled in by a familiar beat he’d laid down, and then he felt grounded again.
Damn. Yeah. It was a solid effort, and he was convinced that Val’s debut was going to enthrall critics and fans alike. Oh, and the bass player known to their future fans as Sinna. He knew exactly why all the male fans were going to love the band even more, thanks to the two hot women in it. He knew he and Brad added a lot, but they weren’t the eye candy.
And that was why the song the label chose as the first single didn’t surprise him one bit, because they too knew that sex sells, and it sells big. It was a song called “Show Me What You Can Do to Me” and it was the most suggestive lyrics he’d ever heard Val write. That the studio chose it because it was sexy was even more obvious when they began filming the video. They only did a few takes of the band playing the song, filmed from different angles, under different light, with different effects, but they spent another two days filming Val on her own with a bonus hour of Sabrina.
The next week, they had to talk tour. The dates were already set as well as most of the bands they’d be touring with, but Val wanted to talk about the logistics. They practiced together once a week, whether they felt like they needed to or not, and also brought new ideas to the table. By this point, though, it seemed that everyone was tapped out creatively, and Nick figured it was because they’d worked so hard on the album. He knew, most of the time, inspiration seemed to hit everyone once they were on the road. He blamed boredom, but he figured it was also the regimen of playing every night that challenged them to write new material.
After they practiced that afternoon, Val ran back in the house for snacks. Nick still hadn’t quite figured out Sabrina’s food likes and dislikes (aside from no pizza), but Val had seemed to get a bead on it. She’d probably outright asked the woman, but Nick got the feeling she didn’t like to be asked a lot of questions, so…he didn’t.
He was still trying to impress her, though. Several months of playing together and she still seemed chilly. He couldn’t figure out what was up with that. Being obnoxious with an in-your-face personality, her cool temperature didn’t scare Nick. He knew he just hadn’t found the right tack yet.
Brad was fiddling with some cables in the corner and Brina was polishing her bass while waiting for Val. Nick started twirling his sticks through his fingers and said, “Gotta get my show ready for tour.”
Brina looked up, one eyebrow cocked, and said, “Show?”
“Yeah. The fans eat it up. I don’t know if I’m going to do anything special for Val’s band, but for Fully Automatic, as you might know, I like to do a few tricks. Y’know, twirling the sticks between my fingers, tossing a stick in the air and catching it, baton-style. Stuff like that. The fans love it, and I think it even makes the show a little suspenseful—will he catch it before the next beat?” Nick was being a smart ass. He knew the audience didn’t really pay that much attention and probably didn’t give a shit if he missed hitting a snare here and there, and—in spite of what a lot of people thought, especially those who didn’t know him well—his ego didn’t depend upon recognition.
The look on her face, one of incredulity, only made him want to go even more over the top. He sat back at his kit and started doing some of what he called tricks, all focused on things he could do with his sticks. Yes, it was true that he did them onstage and he thought the occasional audience member enjoyed and appreciated his efforts, but it wasn’t anything like what other guys did. Godsmack’s drum battle, which Nick was happy to say he’d had the pleasure of witnessing live once, while Sully Erna and Shannon Larkin dueled back and forth performing drum solos, put anything he did onstage to shame. Still, he felt like it was every band member’s duty to make each show memorable—and Nick did his part. Was it important? Hell, no. There were kids starving in third world countries. Whether or not Nick tossed a drumstick in the air and caught it, banging the drum as expected at the appropriate time was not of dire importance.
But it was his job, entertaining the masses as part of a group. He was integral, as he laid the ground
work for the rest of the band. That job he did not take lightly, nor did he feel he blew it up to make it more important than it was. If he had a bad night, he could majorly fuck with the rest of the band. It was his job to be play well and be unobtrusive. He was the foundation.
For now, though, he was hoping to thaw the ice princess with his smart ass sense of humor. Most women found it endearing and he’d made lots of people feel more comfortable around him because he didn’t hesitate to joke around. So he put on a show, performing his tricks, and then exaggerating the expression on his face, alternating from one of horror to shock to anticipation, pretending like he wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to catch the stick or acting like he was struggling to get it right.
But the look on her face…she acted like she was not only unimpressed but permanently turned off.
Okay, so what the fuck made Sabrina Moreno a critic? He, Nick Channing, had played with a world-famous band since their humble beginnings. They were huge. She came from the same world, the indie world, playing in bars and dives and little holes in the wall. He’d never even heard of Scar Tissue until Val had mentioned it and she, “Sinna,” was going to look down her nose at him?
Sadly enough—and Nick knew this in the back of his mind—it wouldn’t have bothered him a bit if he hadn’t wanted her so badly.
But he pressed on, playing through the song in his head, laying down the beats and performing the tricks until the finale. When he was done, he stood and bowed as though he’d finished a symphony. Brad walked out, hadn’t even been paying attention, and Nick saw through the window that Val had been waving to him, apparently asking for his help with something. Brina clapped with the cadence of the dead, a long pause between each smack, and Nick could almost hear the dripping sarcasm in the silence between. Nick arched his eyebrows and then smirked. “What tricks you got, babycakes?”