Jacques was already on the steps with his back to her when she squeaked out herreply.
“Goodnight,Jacques.”
Chapter 9
If their introductoryjam session had been amazing, their recording session was epic. Stellar.Cosmic.
They laid down seven tracks, five songs Kate had composed and two of his own that they had adapted for the band the day before. And recording at Dockside — the studio of legends — was like Disney World onEcstasy.
The drive to Maurice had taken only twenty-five minutes, but impatient with excitement, it had felt like an eternity to Jacques. When he pulled up to the sprawling fourteen acres of oak trees and bayou, he’d understood the studio’s motto: “Move in. Make records.” The place was huge. Fishing pond. Tennis courts. Poolside suite. Cypress decks. VermilionBayou.
He’d driven the Impala, tailing Kate, Des, and Kara, and when they parked and stepped out into the quiet, all four of them looked at each other without a word. On their faces, he could see the certainty hefelt.
This was the closest they had ever come tomagic.
Thirty minutes later, after meeting Gil, the sound engineer, taking in the studio — that really looked more like a TV set of a comfortable home — and running sound checks, they were doing it. They were making a real album in a bona fide recording studio, and Jacques couldn’t stopgrinning.
He’d made a CD with Epoch, but that had been laid down in Chris’s parents’ den with a sound mixer they’d borrowed from the high school music department where Chris’s mom worked. They’d had nothing close to the custom console, the outboard gear, and the professional caliber mixing Dockside would give them, and already Jacques could feel a shift in hislife.
After they knocked out the first song, his muscles and bones were humming with euphoria. And before they rolled into the next one — one he’d written — he took out his phone and held it up. In the background, he captured Kara tucked away in the alcove that held synth equipment, Des and Kate standing on the oriental rugs with their guitars, the alligator sculpture hanging over the double doors, and his joy-drunk grin. He tapped Rainey’s contactbecause…
Because she was the person he wanted to let in on thismoment.
Jacques:Check. It. Out. If I’m dreaming, don’t wake meup.
He pressed send,and they launched into his song, “Lazarus Night,” and playing it with Kate, Kara, and Des felt better than any song he’d ever played with Chris and Blake. The four of them had an energy that was palpable. He could feel it. He could hear it. And judging from the way each one of them checked in with one another as the song unfolded, so could the girls. When the song ended and Gil took off his headset, the look on the sound engineer’s face confirmedit.
The band was somethingspecial.
Two songs later, they took a break and headed out to the cypress deck with bottles of water. Gil joinedthem.
“I only see one problem,” he said, swiping a palm down his salt-and-peppergoatee.
“What’s that?” Kate asked, the beginnings of a scowl already forming between herbrows.
“The name,” Gil said, nodding his head in Jacques’s direction. “How can you be called ‘Heroine’ when you have adude?”
Jacques thought he could actually see hackles form over Kate’s spine. He jumped in before she could say aword.
“We’re keeping the name,” he affirmed, making sure to catch Kate’s eyes. “What’s better than a heroine? Sure as hell saved myass.”
Kate raised a sardonic brow at him, but Kara and Des both smiled. Kate swiveled her head to face her two female band members. “I guess we have to keep himnow.”
“Fuck, yeah,” Des murmured. In the two days he’d spent with them, Jacques had heard next to nothing from the bass player, so her welcome, terse though it was, hithome.
“Like there was any doubt,” Karagushed.
Gil, effectively silenced, could only fight his grin and nod. “Yep. I’ll be telling this story one day toRolling Stone,”he said with certainty. Then he pushed himself up from the wooden glider where he’d been taking his break. “C’mon, then. Let’s finish that future Grammywinner.”
* * *
Jacques was still coastingon his high the following night as he set up his amp and two guitar stands on the stage at Artmosphere. It was a quarter to eight, and the place was only a third full. Most of the patrons sat at high top tables, nursing their beers or enjoying plates of hummus or Sonny Sliders. People didn’t go to the bistro for the food, but food was a plus. As the name suggested, the place was chill, inviting. Folks could sit on the front patio and still hear the band, or they could dance at the foot of the stage. The vibe was cool, and the drinks were cheap — enough. And even though the crowd wasn’t big, it was Thursday night. Jacques knew it wouldn’t be long before UL students and the twenty-something crowd in Freetown, the sketchy, Boho neighborhood downtown, turned out indroves.
But tonight, Jacques wasn’t worried about a packed house. He didn’t care how many UL students or Freetown hipsters showed up. He just wanted to see one person in the crowd, and when he stepped up on stage to start his set, she was nowhere to beseen.
Rainey had told him she’d meet him at Artmosphere, explaining that her sister was being released from the hospital that day, and she’d need to be with her until Holi’s boyfriend got back from work. Jacques hadn’t asked when that would be, and asking now would make him seem like a selfish jerk, so with one final glance at the door, he launched into his cover of “Wonderwall.”
People liked hearing songs they knew, so when Jacques was playing solo, he’d always start with covers to get the crowd warmed up before he offered them his own songs. With Epoch, the draw was different. They’d still play plenty of covers, but with the force of a full band, they could open with one of their popular, high-tempo songs, and a core of followers would dance and sing along, whipping up the rest of the crowd withthem.