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“Yeah, maybe. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he decided to walk away. Find himself a band that better suits his aspirations.” Perry sometimes sat in with other bands, but he’d always been on the up-and-up with us about it.
“That would suck, but I’d understand. Sometimes his ambitions get in the way of reality, but who am I to hold anyone back?”
“Yep.”
Ellis reached forward and turned up the volume on the radio. “Now stop making me hard.”
Soon enough, we were loading our equipment, and then we were on our way to the show.
Mario, the owner of the bar, made an appearance as we were setting up onstage. He was a laid-back dude in his fifties who used to play the drums. “Everything cool?” he asked.
“Yep. Think it’s going well,” Perry replied, and I’d be heartened if it wasn’t his usual response. He’d been the one to get us this weekly gig, so we let him do the talking.
“You guys are bringing steady business into my establishment, so I’d say it’s all good.” He high-fived each of us before drifting off somewhere.
“If we’re doing so well,” Perry muttered, “maybe we should demand he pay us more.”
“We could,” I said, “but why ruin a good thing? It’s all peanuts anyway. Helps buy a couple of rounds, tops.”
“That’s my point. I’ve asked around, and other bands make more.”
“How much more?” Anthony asked, and Perry shrugged, which told me he was likely just blowing off steam. “If you think it’s worth it, go for it, I guess.”
“Maybe I will.” Perry huffed out a breath like we were on the brink of a strike or something, and I wanted to poke fun at him but held back.
Ellis threw a concerned glance my way, possibly hoping like I did that this didn’t send Perry off on some tangent.
“See, right there,” Perry said accusingly. “Whatever that look was between you.”
“Fucking hell,” I bit out. “Way to make us walk on eggshells around you. Thing is, we’re fine with the way things are. I mean, we can’t speak for Anthony…”
Anthony held up a hand. “Hey, leave me out of your squabble. But in case you wondered, I’m content as is. I love playing with you all, and I’m hoping it lasts.”
“Yeah…yeah, okay,” Perry grumbled. “Let’s return to this conversation another time.”
I turned away and exhaled in relief. That was when I noticed Shana and her friend arrive. Had Ellis invited them, or had they shown up on their own? My gut clenched. I was worried Ellis would change his mind about us, maybe even decide to see where it led with Shana after all. I was never one to care about that shit, so why did the thought leave me feeling so broken up?
Ellis stepped off the stage to greet them, and they chatted a bit before he rejoined us.
I was being quiet, answering any questions in a muted tone, but I couldn’t seem to help it.
“Hey, you okay?” Ellis asked in a lower register so no one else would hear.
“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?” I snapped, then immediately regretted it. “Sorry.”
“Does this have to do with Shana? I invited her because I’m enjoying our friendship.”
“It’s none of my business.”
“Of course it is. I think you’d like her too—”
Right then, Perry was in our faces, trying to unwind the mic wire, so we fell silent. “You ready to go in five minutes?”
“Yep.”
We ran down the lineup and didn’t have a quiet moment to talk again before we started our set.
But Ellis definitely came alive as soon as we started with “Just the Way You Are,” a Bruno Mars cover. Ellis kept trying to capture my gaze as we sang together into the microphone. My skin tingled when his fingers reached out to touch my elbow, and I couldn’t find it in me to care if Perry noticed. Ellis had the ability to make you feel like you were the only person in the room. The problem was that everyone felt that way in his company. Damn, why was I thinking about this so hard?
During the break, Ellis chatted with Shana and her friend and even bought them a drink. He waved me over, but I pretended to be involved in too deep a conversation with another musician who’d come to the show. I was being ridiculous, but I’d never felt this possessiveness before, and I didn’t know how to deal with it.
Anthony joined in on their conversation, and when I heard him invite Shana to his clambake this weekend, I was stunned. Did he really think Ellis should give Shana another shot? He’d said as much on our way to Cleveland.
“Oh, that sounds like fun,” she said. “Are you sure?”
“Of course. The more, the merrier.”
“I’ll drive with you,” Ellis said.
“Sounds good. Thanks for the invite.”
My conversation was finished, and the guy had walked away, so when Shana’s eyes met mine, I wasn’t even sure what she saw in my expression. But in hers was something that looked like sympathy. And in Ellis’s expression? Concern.
