Page 7 of His Surrender
“I appreciate it. Don’t know what I’d do without ya.” Johnny had formed a jazz band close to twenty years ago, but Mike, the piano player, had started having health issues, so I stepped in to play when they had gigs.
I was happy to do it.
“Ah, there are a ton of piano players out there,” I said, getting into my car.
“Not one with as much heart as you. Even Big Mike says so.That kid has jazz in his soul, he tells me. Gotta agree with him.”
“Now you’re just kissing my ass.”
Johnny barked out a laugh. “See ya tonight.”
***
I lived in a loft on the west end of Fort Smith. My building was surrounded by bars, restaurants, and a few shops. It was convenient. I could walk instead of having to hunt for a parking spot on one of the busiest streets in the area.
The 906was just a few blocks away, so I left thirty minutes before I was supposed to be there and still arrived in plenty of time. The gig was at nine that evening, but we got there early to set up and chill before going on stage.
“Hey, Remi,” Brent greeted me once I came through the door. He was a server at the cigar bar and could always be seen with a big smile. Especially on the nights when a certain blond showed up.
In fact, Brent had a bet going that he’d go home with said blond someday.Just watch, he’d said to the other waiters while I’d been in earshot.That guy is as good as mine. I didn’t know what his chances were, and frankly, I didn’t care.
More luck to him.
“Hey,” I responded, giving him a polite smile before going over to the small stage located on the far wall. It was barely big enough for the four members and our instruments, but we made it work.
I rolled the piano into its place before running the cords for Freddie’s upright bass. The other guys showed up a little after that, and we clapped each other on the backs and chatted for a bit. They were all pushing sixty, but age didn’t matter. We all got along great. I’d grown up with those guys. When I was a teen, I’d go with Johnny to his band practices and hang with them. It was how I got into jazz.
Music had been my escape after my mom passed. It’d been the one thing to keep my head above the water. For a while at least. Then I’d gone down a bad road.
“Lookin’ sharp, kid,” Johnny said, pulling me in for a hug. He smelled like cigars and Old Spice, and though his long hair was a little frizzy and wild, his beard and goatee were on point.
“Thanks.” I’d worn slacks with suspenders, a long-sleeved white-and-blue checkered shirt, a red bow tie, and a fedora. People called my style quirky, yet sophisticated. I loved dressing up and playing with clothes, mixing and matching certain styles.
Ace, the drummer, called me a peacock.
“Strutting and showing off your feathers again, I see,” Ace said, his mouth askew with an amused smile.
“Leave the boy alone,” Johnny told him. “Just because you have no style doesn’t mean you need to harp on his.”
I chuckled as they continued bantering back and forth. They’d been best friends since boyhood, and it showed in the way they behaved around each other. And it was then, in the middle of me laughing, that Jay Foley walked in.
Damn, the man looked good.Toogood. Short blond hair that was longer in the front and swooped across his brow, and he had a tall, athletic build. His shirt stretched across his chest, hugging his toned arms, and his jeans hugged his ass and thighs.
As his gaze found mine, I looked away and adjusted the piano bench—even though it was right where it needed to be. From the corner of my eye, I saw him approach.
“Good evening.”
My insides melted at the sound of his smooth voice, and I turned to him with what I hoped was a casual smile. “Evening.”
It was the first time we’d talked, and I hadn’t been prepared for the force that was Jay Foley. I’d thought he was gorgeous from a distance, but up close? His vibrant green eyes and sexy, curved lips were to die for.
“Thought I should introduce myself,” he said, his voice low and way too appealing. He held out a hand. “Jay Foley. My nephew is a student of yours.”
“Oh. Right. Foster,” I said, pretending as though it had just occurred to me. “He’s a good kid.”
“He is,” Jay agreed, smiling. Unlike the flirty one he flashed when first walking up to me, this smile seemed more genuine. And damn if it didn’t make me even more attracted to him. “He talks about you a lot. Thank you for being so good to him.”
“It’s a pleasure having him in band. I’m glad he enjoys it.” I didn’t know how else to respond. My thinking abilities were limited at the moment, as though the full force of Jay’s gaze jammed the signals between my brain cells.
