“Great. Solves all our problems.”
Thank fuck. “Awesome. Because Rory said she could swing it.”
He barely glances at her. “Great. Whatever you need to do. As long as you’re on that bus when we leave in two weeks.” He grabs a binder and rifles through it. “I need you to sign the contract.”
Something about what he says makes me wonder if he understands what I’m suggesting. Layla jerks in my carrier, and I pat her butt to settle her. Thankfully, she knocks out again. “Frank, just to be clear, I’m bringing my daughter with me. And Rory too, so she can take care of the baby when I have shows or rehearsals.”
He sputters like I insulted his mother. “Absolutely not.”
“Why not? I can’t be the only musician on the planet who brings his kid with him on tour. Didn’t I read somewhere that Dave Grohl took his four children on tour?”
He snorts. “You’re not Dave Grohl.” Ouch. “Look, Jace, you know I love you, and I’ll always go to bat for you, but the label is not gonna be flexible about this.”
“How do you know? Couldn’t you ask?”
“I already did for Cooper. He wanted his girlfriend to join us for a leg of the tour, and the label said no due to liability. Their insurance is strict about this. There’s only one exception to the rule.”
Shit. “What’s the exception?”
He studies Rory for a minute and turns back to me. “If you’re married, your baby might be able to come with your spouse if the spouse can contribute to the tour somehow, selling merch or doing your social media. That sort of thing. But if she’s just a bump on a log, the label is gonna reject your request outright. And even if you could swing everything else, you’ll have to sign a shitload of waivers.”
Paige leans forward with a giant, cheerleader grin. “Rory does social media for the library.”
“What?” Rory’s eyes go saucer-wide. “Are you—are you suggesting ImarryJace? So I can babysit?”
My sister-in-law shrugs and leans over to kiss Rhett on the cheek. “It’s not the craziest idea I’ve ever heard.”
I blow out a breath. Maybe not the craziest, but definitely hovering in the same zip code. Sure, it worked out for Paige and my brother, but they’re obviously the exception to the rule. Side note—Paige is enjoying this way too much.
Fuck. This can’t be the end. But Rory will never go for this if the idea of being a nanny makes her skittish.
Think, Jace. Think.
“What if we just say we’re married?” I glance at Rory, who looks like I’m asking her to pump my blood into a vial and wear it around her neck. “Are they gonna check our wedding certificate?”
Waving a finger between me and Rory, Frank chuckles. “No one who knows you will believe this little arrangement. Besides, if the label does want your marriage certificate and you don’t have it, that’s gonna make me look like an asshole. So no, I won’t do that.”
Rory holds up her hand like she’s asking a question in class. “What if I drove separately? I could drive Layla and meet up with you at each stop. At least that way, you could see her every day.”
I hate that idea. I want the girls close by so I can be there if they need me. “I don’t know if?—”
Frank shrugs. “That’s not the worst idea I’ve heard. You still can’t sleep on the bus. You’ll have to find other accommodations.”
This is starting to piss me off. “Come on, Frank. You and I both know that’s bullshit. How is it that I could have a groupie in my bed every night, but you won’t let Rory come?”
“The difference is I kick out groupies before we hit the road. I’ve already heard an earful about this from Bandit. Guess some girl got drunk, slammed into a cabinet when the bus was on the road, and got a concussion. Caused the label a huge headache. So now, there are no groupies on the buses when they’re in motion.”
The girl caused everyone a headache? Guess no one cares about the injuries she got when she fell.
I scramble to think of something else I can do to make it work and draw a big fat blank.
Well, fuck.
Guess I’m out of options.
I can barely cough up the words. “I’ll call the guys to let them know I’m out.” I hug my daughter a little tighter. Because I won’t leave her behind.
Frank’s jaw drops open. “You can’t be serious.”
