Page 91 of Final Serenade

Ashton fully embraced his role as Levi’s camera assistant.

The room was small. I assumed the larger one cost more, and money wasn’t something Isabella’s family had to throw around. A drum riser stood in front of the exposed brick wall. The AC was cranked all the way up. Snacks and drinks sat on a table in the corner.

I chose coffee and energy bars to keep me sharp and awake throughout the day.

Frank and I had spent the entire night having sex. He’d needed to leave early to meet with the label rep and I woke up in an empty bed, sheets still damp with sweat. With him, it was never enough. I could go on for hours. Suck him, lick him, ride him, inhale him. He was the sweetest poison, and I wasn’t sure how I was going to be in one room with him all day with his scent still on my skin and pretend we were strangers.

He showed up in the afternoon. At around four. The band had already gone through their full catalogue and all the new material twice. There were a few covers they wanted to try; two of them were Hall Affinity songs.

Levi was on a roll, and I wondered if he was secretly aiming for an Oscar nomination. He majored in film in college. Another reason for the tension between him and his parents. Sadly, things just never took off for him and after a few unsuccessful attempts to break into the movie industry, Levi decided to follow his other passion, music, and createdRewired. The rest was history. Or perhapshistory in the makingworked better here.

We took five. Maria needed to make a phone call and Isabella needed to rest her voice. She’d been pushing it really hard all morning.

Story, the guitarist whom Dante had trashed a few weeks ago, sat on a stool and plucked at the strings of his Jackson. He was a nice kid, shy too. He wore a Led Zeppelin T-shirt and a pair of skinny jeans and looked nothing like Kit, the drummer, and Isabella. Although they were all somehow related. Kit was a couple of years older. He had olive skin and thick black hair, like Isabella and her mother. Their new bassist, Andy, was an odd duck. While he was the same age as the rest of the guys, he looked older. His calm demeanor suggested he’d been playing live shows since he was a kid and meeting celebrities wasn’t unusual for him.

He was showing Ashton some basic bass lines.

I sat in the corner with my iPad and watched the band. To me, though just a few years younger than I was, they were still kids. Green and hopeful. They all had bright eyes and trusting faces and they were about to meet a man who’d won two Grammys and written a whole lot of chart-topping songs that were now considered classics of modern rock.

I gave myself a mental pat on the back. I wasn’t scared to take the credit for making this meeting happen. I was damn proud of it too, and I wanted Levi to also be proud of me.

There was a knock on the door. The studio associate, a twenty-something girl with a Jamaican accent and a permanent grin, poked her braided head through the crack. “He’s here.”

She didn’t say anything else. The door slid closed leaving us all in silence.

“Dios mio.” I heard Maria whisper in Spanish, which was highly unusual. Nervous, she clutched her hands in front of her chest, phone between her palms, eyes wide.

“Mom,” Isabella hissed.

Story and Kit exchanged long excited stares. Andy hugged his instrument but stayed calm.

Despite the AC, the air inside the room became hot. A mix of horror and adoration danced across everyone’s face. Voice and footsteps filled the hallway. I sat in my chair with my legs crossed and trembled like a leaf. I was anxious. Not because I was going to see Frank in his natural habitat, but because these guys were going to meet someone they idolized. A paranoid part of me also wondered if these people would be able to tell Frank and I were intimately involved, but my common sense told me that was an impossible scenario. We were great actors. We could fool everyone.

The door swung open and Brooklyn marched into the room. She surveyed us with a professional smile and approached Maria and Isabella to shake hands.

“Hi. I’m Brooklyn, Frankie’s assistant. We corresponded via email.”

More noises came from the outside. I heard laughter. Frank’s laughter. He was talking to the studio associate. My pulse jumped.

Once all the introductions were finished, Brooklyn moved to the middle of the room. Her heels clacked against the floor. She wore her usual, a bright-colored blazer and a pair of black dress pants, and looked very impressive.

This woman made shit happen.

“Please, no cell phones, no cameras, no GoPros, or any other recording devices.” Her piercing gaze darted over to Levi and Ashton as she explained the rules of conduct. They obliged and put away all the gear. “If Frankie decides he wants to take photos, he’ll let you know. Any questions?” She topped her speech off with a wide, teeth-glittering smile.

After a short pause, everyone nodded. Then hysteria laced their voices as they started blabbering.

Seconds later, Frank stepped into the room. He wasn’t the biggest person here, but it felt as if his frame took up the entire space and he swallowed up all the air. Breaths were held and eyes stopped blinking.

I noticed Roman and Corey out in the hallway, but they didn’t come in.

“Hey, all.” Frank smiled and marched toward Isabella. She met him halfway. The wheelchair didn’t stop her from being her usual feisty self. They shook hands and exchanged a few words before he moved on to greet Maria and the other kids in the band. I watched him with fascination. My eyes scanned the length of his body, drinking in his jean-clad thighs and the outline of his shoulders. He wore a T-shirt and a leather jacket, and his face was relaxed while he spoke.

Then he made his way over to Levi and me.

“Cassy and Levi withRewiredare producing the documentary,” Brooklyn said as her cool eyes caught mine. She was one hell of an actress; the woman didn’t even flinch. She could probably give Taylor Rhinehart a run for her money.

“We meet again.” Frank tipped his chin and held out his hand for a shake. I took it. Our palms connected and our fingers locked. Electricity surged through my arm just like it did at El Capitan. Inches of space separated us, yet we were one. We were a bubble of body heat and pheromones and my skin burned raw where our hands were linked.

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