Deanna passed Alex a coffee. He didn't function until his third cup was down, but this would put enough zip in his veins to move his hands.
"What about a session player?" There were more musicians in the world than gigs. Once upon a time, he was a rent a drummer and played with anyone willing to give him a check. That was before Samantha found him filling in for the drummer of Rebel Riot, who opened her act years ago.
"I put out some feelers." From her bag, she pulled out sheets of music and handed them to everybody. "How is everyone settling in?"
"All settled and loving the place," Red said. "Thanks for the bonus."
"Yeah," Gray chimed in. "Loving my place, too."
She turned Alex's way. "You doing okay?"
"House is great." He held up his phone. "Still have a fence problem."
Samantha cocked her head to the side. "Did you call the Coopers?"
"Not that kind of problem." He set his coffee and phone down and pulled his hair back into a ponytail. It was his signature look, but it drew attention, especially in a town where entertainers weren't known to live. "Someone outed our location. That damn crazy 'superfan' posted my address, and now I have an underwear problem."
Gray's laughter rumbled through the room. "If you didn't have a chain-link fence, you wouldn't have a problem."
"If I didn't have a fence, I'd have a bigger problem. Just this morning, my cameras caught a woman leaving a gift. Thankfully, she didn't strip down to take them off right there."
Samantha shook her head. "That's just wrong. Not only is it a public nuisance, but hygienically, it's just gross."
Years ago, he would have disagreed, but now it was a source of irritation.
"Why chain link?" Samantha asked. "I think a wood fence or a block wall would serve you better."
He let out a whistle that changed tone with the shake of his head. "Could you imagine not being able to see what I faced. I can visualize it now. I'd enter the locked gate and get swarmed by naked bodies."
Red choked on his coffee. "And you call that a problem? With the lack of women in Aspen Cove, you should feel blessed." He turned to Gray. "Looks like we can hunt at Alex's place since the pickin's in town are slim." A blueberry muffin took flight from Deanna's hand and nailed Red in the side of the head.
"What the hell?" he brushed the crumbs from his hair.
"Sorry, thought you'd like a muffin."
He wiped a smashed blueberry from his temple.
Something was going on between them.
"Do you kids want to talk it out, or should we get started?" Samantha asked
Deanna headed for the door. "I've got furniture coming, so I'll be gone for the day. I just wanted to bring you a snack and wish you guys luck."
"I don't need luck; all I need is sleep," Alex said. "I can't seem to hit REM until morning."
Samantha adjusted the mic. "What you need is a good woman who would give you a reason to come to bed early or tire you out so that sleep comes easily."
Deanna glared over her shoulder at Red and stomped out.
"What the hell is going on there?" Samantha asked.
Red's face turned the color of his name. "Too much wine and several poor choices."
"You didn't." Samantha scowled at him. "You understand I can replace you easier than her, right?"
Red scrubbed his face with his hand. "Look, we're both adults. Something happened, but we realized it wasn't smart to mix work and play. It will be all right."
"See," Alex said. "Women are trouble. I need a woman about as much as I need a concussion."
"I don't know how I work with you Neanderthals. Don't forget, without a good woman, you would have never come about."
That statement was both true and false. Alex wouldn't have come about without a womb, but the "good” part was debatable. What mother had a kid and then drank herself to death?
He picked up his sticks and started his standard warm up while the rest of the band got ready.
"Sound guy will be here in two hours. I think we can lay down tracks." Sam said. "If we hit it hard over the next few weeks, we can finish this album early, and you guys can take the rest of the summer off once we do the concert for the fire department fundraiser."
Red set the sheet music on the stand. "Something new?"
She nodded. "Yep, it just came to me. I'm calling it, 'Right Woman, Wrong Time.'"
"Story of my life," Gray said.
They played for several hours before the sound technician arrived. He wasn't their regular guy, but he was talented and efficient.
They gave Sam's new song a try, and it reminded him of his family. The apple didn't fall far from the tree. He was his father, from the sticks in his hands to the ice covering his heart. If he'd written the song, it would have been called, "Right Woman, No Time."
When Dad was alive, he played for the greats like the Stones and Skynyrd until he got a permanent gig with Drive Shaft. Tragically, he went down in a plane like so many do who travel from show to show. Worse was he was the only member of his band on that plane since he was hitching a ride with another group. Last year Drive Shaft got inducted into the hall of fame without him.
The lyrics were hauntingly familiar.
She needed more.
I gave less.
When it ended, I had nothing left to give, and she had nothing left.
It could have been written about his parents. His mom was a backup singer for a band. While they toured together, things were great. Then she got pregnant, and he left her behind to raise his son while he continued his
