“Yeah. You know his dad owns a grocery chain, right? And he has a brother who’s been working at studios in Europe.”
I searched my brain for the brother’s name. “Malcolm.”
“Yeah. Well, he’s back from Europe, and he wants in, too. Both of them have always wanted to be independent. This works for them.”
“It’s good, but it won’t be enough.” The business acumen I’d absorbed from running The Corner—most if it learned from Grant—ticked through my brain. “We’ll need a bank loan, a big one.”
“Or we need a rich guy,” Denver said. “Oh, wait—we already know a guy who bankrolled our tour and rented us a private jet.”
I looked at him. “You want to go to William Hale for money?”
“Fuck yes, I do. I don’t know what Hale’s angle is, but let’s find it and use it to get more money out of him. What do you say?”
His eyes were lit up, excited. It was a crazy idea, reckless, unlike anything we’d ever done before. We didn’t know what we were getting into.
But answering Stone’s ad and showing up at his mom’s house that first day to try out for a new band was crazy. The first time the Road Kings played a show was crazy. The first time we got into a van, thinking we could tour, was crazy. We hadn’t known what we were doing then, either. There’s no course, no book that prepares you for these things.
It was nuts, but in one swoop, Denny had come up with the idea that would keep the Road Kings together, keep us making music, and keep us from having to live our lives on the road while getting screwed over by a big record company.
Our lead singer, I could admit, was kind of a genius.
He’d come to me first, before he talked to any of the other guys. Before he even talked to Callie.
That decision was deliberate, I knew. I had the most to lose if we were pressured to go on tour again. This setup—if it worked—benefited Denver and the others. But the one who got the most benefit was me.
I cleared my throat. Ah, shit—I was choked up, and my eyes were stinging suspiciously. “I’m in,” I managed to say. “I’m definitely in.”
“Good to hear it, brother,” my friend said, grinning at me. Then he got up to go back to his girlfriend.
I looked out the window, taking a deep breath and remembering: Sometimes your bandmates annoy the shit out of you. And other times, they save your life.
THIRTY
Axel
We landed in Portland, and we had a whole evening off before we had to do tomorrow’s final show. I crashed in bed—still fully clothed, with Brit’s letter still in my pocket—and slept harder than I ever had in my life. The next morning, after showering and getting dressed—I just might burn my road clothes—I stared sadly at my empty kitchen cupboards. Then I went next door to see Ellen.
She answered the door with a cup of coffee in her hand, and she must have been happy to see me, because for once, she wasn’t sarcastic. “Hello, sweet boy,” she said.
I kissed her cheek, because I was genuinely happy to see her. She waved me off in mock disgust.
“I need food,” I admitted.
“Then scramble some eggs from my fridge and give me half,” she said, back to business.
I had never done this with Ellen—just come to visit alone, to check on her. But she felt more like family than she had before. She felt it, too. We slipped into an easy vibe.
I cooked us breakfast and drank her coffee while she talked my ear off, almost as if she’d missed me. I did the dishes. Then we went through the house and she directed me through various tasks she needed done. I warned her that I was the least handy man alive, but she didn’t care. She wanted the company. So I fixed a shaky shelf, changed a furnace filter, covered up an exposed nail on the basement stairs, emptied a shelf above the fridge, and hauled a broken table to the curb—all while she gave me second-by-second instructions.
She gave me a cup of tea and a cookie as a reward, which made me feel like a little kid. It was a nice feeling. I was halfway through the cookie when she finally brought up Brit.
“I talk to her every day, you know,” Ellen said.
I took a sip of my tea.
“She’s in L.A.,” Ellen continued. “I set her up with a lawyer friend of mine so they can sort out all of the business Brit left behind. Just because that sleazy ex-boyfriend of hers put her through the wringer, doesn’t seem like a reason to me that he should get away with everything.”
The look she gave me was sharp, and I knew she guessed that I agreed with her. That maybe the idea had come from me.