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“Oh, I have a car. I just like being around a bunch of random strangers now and then. People-watching is a great way to generate writing inspiration,” Asher explained. “All those separate worlds, separate lives, tangled up together in a bus. The possibilities are endless.”
“Wow. I can see why Bruce hired you,” he replied.
This guy must be a true artist type, Blaze thought. He had heard rumors about Asher Tate’s bizarre methods, but this was more than he’d expected.
“Well, now that we’re both here, should we head inside?” Asher asked.
Blaze nodded and followed him into the building. The entrance opened into a stylish lobby furnished in a mid-century-modern style. The decor was impressive without being overtly opulent. It didn’t take long for the pair to find the door to the main conference room, where two other young men were waiting around, chatting in low voices. One of them had wavy blond hair pulled back into a tight, no-nonsense, tiny bun. He had a manila folder under his arm and was talking animatedly with the other guy. His companion was slightly shorter and stockier, but with a goofy rather than athletic air to him. He had short dark hair that spiked up ever so slightly in the front and seemed to be cracking jokes with the blond man, who responded in a more serious tone.
Blaze recognized them instantly, and judging by the look on Asher’s face, he did too.
This was Jimmy Duke and Matt Mahoney of the band Tortured Heart—the drummer and bass guitarist, respectively. Two extremely talented young musicians who were already leaving their mark on the music industry, even after only two albums so far. Blaze felt that familiar, split-second twinge in his chest. It was a leftover response from high school, that feeling of walking up to the popular kids’ table in the cafeteria, heart thumping and hands sweaty. But Blaze was no high-schooler anymore, and he quickly quashed the momentary self-doubt as he plastered a confident grin on his face.
The two musicians stopped talking and waved at the sight of Blaze and Asher approaching, their mood seeming to lift instantly.
“Hey! You guys made it out here to good old Hollywood,” the guitarist greeted. “You must be the writers Bruce told us about.”
“You got it,” said Blaze. “I’m Blaze Norton.”
“And I’m Asher Tate,” said the other songwriter.
“Matt Mahoney, guitarist for Tortured Hearts,” said the musician. “And this very serious-looking dude is Jimmy Duke.”
“You know, I can introduce myself,” Jimmy quipped.
“But I do such a great job of it,” Matt joked.
Blaze liked their energy right off the bat. He could tell that Matt was more of a jokester, the kind of affable guy who would be just as happy jamming out in someone’s dad’s garage. On the other hand, Jimmy gave the impression of a more classically trained, serious career musician. He was friendly, but with a reserved nature that perfectly complemented Matt’s silliness. Blaze could easily see how their partnership would work within the bounds of their band. But there was one variable missing entirely—and it was arguably the most vital variable of all.
The singer and frontwoman of the band, Giselle Kingston.
Asher looked at his watch again, frowning with concern.
“It’s nine o’clock. The meeting is supposed to start in a minute or two. I don’t want to sound rude, but aren’t there three members of your band?” he asked pointedly.
Matt and Jimmy exchanged nervous expressions. They looked uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot like they couldn’t quite find the words to answer him.
“Where is Giselle?” Blaze asked, getting right to the point.
Jimmy sucked his teeth and rolled his eyes over to Matt, passing the buck. Matt scratched the back of his head and grimaced. “She’s definitely going to show up,” he began.
“I’d say it’s about an eighty percent chance,” Jimmy amended.
Blaze quirked one dark, thick brow. “What about the other twenty percent?”
“She has been known to have a slightly loose grip on her responsibilities from time to time,” said Jimmy.
Matt snorted. “That’s a gentle way to put it. And I adore the girl, don’t get me wrong.”
“Look, Giselle is an artist. A powerhouse. A force of nature,” Jimmy listed off. “She’s a vital part of the band and we would be nowhere without her. But…”
“She marches to the beat of her own drum,” Matt said.
Jimmy chuckled. “Little frustrating when I’m the actual drummer.”
“She’s on her own schedule. Giselle Time. It’s generally a good idea to tack a few extra minutes or… hours onto your meetup time when it comes to her,” added Matt.
“It’s officially nine-oh-five,” Asher updated. “So, is Bruce waiting inside?”
