Ace (Band of Brothers #1) Page 2

  Not that it was a secret, but after tonight, I realized that I was the lead asshole of Hathway. But my brothers were assholes too.

  Nik cleared his throat as he chugged a bottle of water. "I still can't believe you fucked that blonde. Blondes aren't your thing."

  I gave him my signature smirk. "It was Florida. What do you expect? They were all blonde."

  I sat on the couch and watched the lights of the passing vehicles. I was living the life. I was in charge and I feel powerful.

  I was Ace—definitely a fucking spade.

  2

  Elizabeth

  Papers scattered across the floor and around my feet covering the eggshell-colored tiles. I huffed and bent down to pick them up, then made my way to the morning meeting. Late. Of course I'd have to be late to an emergency Monday morning meeting that my boss insisted we all attend.

  I walked in with my disorganized notes tucked in my arms and sat down at the conference table looking like a hot mess. Jack, my asshole boss, glanced over at me and I saw his nostrils flare. I had agitated him again. This day was already fucked.

  There were moments when I wished I were invisible, days I wished I could sink into the chair, wall, or table. Or even have the power to snap my fingers and disappear, especially when people looked at me the way everyone had right then.

  Jack tucked his lips inside of his mouth and waited for me to sit, then continued on and on about the upcoming projects. I knew the analogy "beating a dead horse" in real time because he had a habit of repeating the same idea several different ways even if we all understood him the first time. Meetings that should last one to two minutes usually lasted at least thirty. These were the things I hated most about my job.

  "As you noticed, Jules is out and will be for the next few weeks. She's been put on bed rest indefinitely due to complications with her pregnancy."

  I already knew all of that because Jules is my bestie. Although she’s seven years older than me, you’d never notice. When we met it was as if we’d known each other our whole lives. Some people were destined to be friends. As I stared out the window and watched the silky strings of clouds pass behind Jack's head, I tried to think of the band and tour she had been assigned to but nothing came to me; all I could think about was Jules talking about what needed to be done before she left.

  "Did you hear me, Elizabeth?"

  I swallowed and looked at Jack. His eyes bore straight into me. If they were laser beams, I'd have no head.

  "Jules insisted that you follow Band of Brothers and they've already played seven shows so we're behind." The harsh tone in his voice wasn't lost. He was pissed. I was confused. And as I looked around the room, I noticed everyone was relieved they weren't the ones being assigned to that band for the summer. The whole room sighed in happiness, which meant I was fucked.

  "I've never toured before," I said.

  "You've helped Jules with her articles for the past three years," he said.

  "I'm not the right person for this," I protested.

  "Then you should work elsewhere."

  "Aren't they—"

  "The most difficult group of musicians to work with in the industry? Yes. Congratulations on obtaining the new project." Jack slid a huge stack of papers across the table with a sarcastic beaming grin smacked across his face. His smile was reminiscent of the Grinch from How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Unfortunately, Jack was stealing something much more important; my sanity and happiness, or maybe he was stealing my soul. Maybe I was being too dramatic?

  "Meet your new assignment," he said, tapping his finger anxiously on the desk, waiting for me to say something else—but I knew when to accept my position. It was something I learned a long time ago.

  My mouth dropped open in disbelief as Jack went over the schedule, the different bands, locations, and deadlines that each of us would take. As if nothing had happened, he dismissed everyone to go on with their merry day. I sat in the conference room staring at the huge stack of research Jules had left for me. With a defeated sigh, I turned to look at the schedule. I would fly out tomorrow, to-fucking-morrow and had nothing packed for a month of travel. Apparently my accommodations were already set for Atlanta. The Ray Charles song Georgia on my Mind popped into my head and for a moment I told myself I could do this. I could do this, right?

  Jack closed the door hard and I rubbed my hands over my face, hoping this was all a horrible nightmare and I'd wake up in my bed. Nope, it was real.

  How would I be able to pull this off successfully? I helped with copy editing. I helped Jules make her words shine and suggested layouts for the spreads. Getting the information for those articles was something I wasn't prepared for. I helped make her pictures and words pretty. I was like the makeup artist who dealt with models all day. The canvas was already perfect.

  Some people were born to interview others, but I wasn't. Being a journalist was never my dream. There was a point in my life where I wanted to be a musician, but I crumbled under large crowds of people. So instead of playing for the masses, I've been playing for my cat, quietly singing and strumming my guitar. I wasn't wired to ask questions without getting nervous or embarrassed. I always locked up and looked stupid because I was so easily intimidated. After years of self-discovery, I knew I was meant to be an editor for articles about the music industry. Not any editor, a damn good one.

  I slammed my fists on the table out of anger and frustration. The pounding coursed through my body, bringing me back to my drab new reality.

  I grabbed the double stacks of papers, along with my unsorted ones, and walked back to the joint office that Jules and I had shared since the first day I started. I knew she was on maternity leave, but I had to talk to her about this because she didn't give me any warning before she nominated me for such a huge task.

  She picked up on the first ring.

  "Don't be pissed at me, El." Jules was smiling. I could hear it in her voice.

  "I want to be so pissed at you… but I can't. Seriously, what the hell are you thinking? This is going to be a disaster. I'm going to royally fuck this whole project over and you'll be as responsible for my mess-ups as me. You could have had Sara or Penny go on tour and do a great job. They'd actually enjoyed it. They're extroverts. They love music. I'm like Grumpy Cat. You know this more than anyone else."

  "And that's why I chose you. I want the job done right without bias, without the reporter trying to get into the pants of the lead singer or guitarist. Penny and Sara could sleep an interview out of any band we cover, but that's not what this is about. You know music. You fucking play guitar. And not only that, Band of Brothers are different from any other band, and I know the Hathways can be bastards. We all know this. But you're going to have to shake it off. Ace has never been interviewed by anyone. If you can pull this off, Jack will be kissing your feet—hell, better than that, he'll be kissing your ass."

  "That's a horrible visual you created. Thanks."

  "Listen. It's obvious you hate me right now, but at the end of the tour you're going to thank me. I know it. This job was meant for you. You've got a photographer’s eye. You're a talented writer. You went to school for English and music. This is your dream. Get over your nerves and you'll be unstoppable. Got it? And maybe you'll learn something. That's the plus of all of this. Maybe you'll even be inspired to play in front of people."

  "You're such a mom. Everyone already thinks I'm going to fail at this. And being a musician for the public is not in my blood. I'm so doomed."

  "You've got the most badass bitch on the block in your corner. I'm rooting for you. Call me if you need anything. Though I'm on bed rest, all I'm doing is Netflix binging and eating everything I can. I think I may have died and gone to heaven. Now go get ’em tiger. You've got some ass to kick. Don't forget the guitar."

  After I spoke with her, I felt better. Her enthusiasm and passion for music and the industry was contagious—almost. I had to find my fire and use it for the summer tour or Band of Brothers would chew me up and sp
it me out.

  For the rest of the day I read the notes she had made about the band. I tried to memorize different things about them and I even listened to their CD and studied their music. I hated almost all their songs. Maybe it was because I was raised on oldies: Elvis Presley, The Beatles, The Temptations, Marvin Gaye, Aretha Franklin, Etta James, and the list goes on and on and on. I could quite possibly be the only 24-year-old who loves classics with so much fervor. My father was to blame for my love of music and playing guitar.

  There was speculation of Ace dating someone, but apparently it was a rumor. I could only imagine how many women he had been with, considering his looks—strong jawline, piercing blue eyes, and a perfect smile was enough to make any woman melt. All the brothers had those qualities. Jesus.

  For a second, I thought about my love life and how it was nonexistent. Sure, I had been on dates, but nothing too serious since moving to Los Angeles. Too many people were ready to put out and I didn't want them to put in, if you know what I mean. I didn't want a random relationship. It needed to be meaningful or it was a waste of my time. Who has time for one-night stands? The answer was clear: rock stars.

  I continued reading and made plenty of mental notes. Ace was 24, the youngest of the brothers. Jex and Rex were twins and the oldest of the four at age 29. Nikolas or Nik was the middle child at 26. None of them were married. None of them had kids that anyone knew of. I giggled at that fact. Rock Stars. I shook my head and continued reading.

  Ace refused to be interviewed by anyone. Instead of him answering questions, he always allowed his brothers to do it for him. Had a cat got his tongue, or was he that arrogant? Maybe he was nervous? Look at me; I was already making excuses for the guy.

  I stared at a picture of him on stage while his guitar hung from his body. The lights gave his shirtless body a warm glow. Sweat covered his chest and he was screaming pure emotion into the microphone. Whatever he sang took over his whole body. The muscles in his neck were strained and with eyes closed, he grasped the microphone with both hands. Fingers from the crowd clipped the bottom of the picture as the lights faded across them. I had to admit that it was a beautiful, powerful shot.

  Jack stood in the doorway of my office and cleared his throat. I jumped and placed my hand over my heart.

  "You scared me," I said.

  He pursed his lips. "Your travel arrangements are confirmed for tomorrow. Remember you're representing PHASE Magazine in everything you do. Oh, and Elizabeth, don't mess this up. You can leave early to get ready for your flight tomorrow."

  "Yes, sir."

  He walked to my desk with a document typed on legal size paper in his hand. He laid it across my desk and I looked up at him.

  "This is your non-disclosure contract. It will need to be signed before you leave."

  The letters were small and the line for my signature practically filled the bottom. I sighed and signed and he crinkled the paper in his fist and walked out. I would leave tomorrow and was running out of time. I looked at Jules' desk, wishing she were here, then packed my crap. It all happened too fast.

  I shoved a notebook that Jules had written tons of notes inside and grabbed the CDs so I could drop the music on my phone before the flight. I had to be smart about this tour. I had to break out of my shell even if it were temporary. If nothing else, I wanted to prove Jack wrong.

  Before I closed the office door, I took one last glance inside.

  "Jules, you better know what you're doing or you're going to ruin me."

  3

  Ace

  I was either my biggest fan or my worst critic, and I left no room for creative criticism when I was in one of my moods. It was self-loathing, destructive inner monologues that plagued me. Recently I noticed those thoughts leaking into my lyrics. There were times when I hated myself and other times when I loved who I was. I couldn't make up my mind. But I couldn't let my insecurities affect my performances. No weak links were allowed in this industry.

  People often say money can't buy happiness, and believe me when I say that's true. Happiness was something that came from within. Real happiness was something I needed to find. I stared at the ceiling of the bus and allowed my thoughts to consume me. It had to be midafternoon by the way the light shone through the blinds.

  I slipped on a faded black t-shirt and blue jeans and walked into the kitchen area and looked out the window. The bus was parked outside of the venue already and the high sun gleamed in the distance. The crew was already working on unpacking our gear and setting up the stage. Sweat formed on their brows. Damn, I knew it was hot by looking at them. Georgia in the summer was like hell. I watched for another moment as they moved in a line like ants. It blew my mind how much they accomplished in so little time.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out.

  Rex: We're going for food. Join us?

  As soon as my thumbs were in place to send a reply text, the door to the bus closed and a strong hand squeezed my shoulder.

  "No choice, little bro. You're coming with us. By the way, you look like shame and regret," Jex said.

  "Only because I'm about to hang out with you." I laughed and we stepped off the bus and walked toward a black van parked by the sidewalk. Rex and Nik crossed the parking lot toward us.

  Our tour manager, Miley walked with determination in her step wearing her signature look: converse, jeans, and an old school band t-shirt with bright colored Ray-Bans.

  "Be back by three. Don't be late. I'm not fucking kidding. Warm up at three-thirty. That gives you exactly two hours. Okay?" She pointed her finger at us.

  We all nodded at her like she was our mother because on the road she practically was. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear that had fallen from her sloppy pony tail and smiled, pleased by our reaction. Miley had her shit together and I never questioned her actions. There were some people in the world that I depended on without question, few and far between, but she was one of them. Miley didn't take our lip; she drank like a man and cursed like a sailor. She was one of the dudes and not one of us had the balls to not follow her direction. Her temper was scary.

  "I'm serious, three on the dot!" She gave us the look that would make anyone else tremble.

  We nodded again and the van door slid open and we all climbed inside.

  "The venue is sold out; nineteen thousand people. Doesn't even seem like a real number," Rex said.

  "None of this seems real," I replied.

  "You got that right, little bro. It's a constant state of dreaming but you better wake the fuck up because this tour begins," Jex said with a laugh.

  "Did you decide to play up the whole identical twin thing again today?" I asked, nudging Nik with my elbow. Jex and Rex looked over each other who were wearing the same clothes.

  Jex instantly became pissed and Rex laughed.

  "We aren't five anymore," Jex said. "Stop doing that. It's not cute."

  "I think it's adorable," Nik said with a huge grin on his face.

  "I thought it would be fun to be you today when I meet people," Rex chimed in.

  "You better fucking not. I don't think that's funny. At all." Jex was not kidding. But if people didn't know them, it was hard to tell them apart. Jex started cutting his hair differently and Rex would get the same cut to drive him nuts. It was an ongoing joke that Jex did not like.

  "Sometimes I hate being your twin. I have to look at your ugly face every morning when I look in the mirror." Rex couldn't even finish without busting up laughing in the middle.

  Twin jokes, sometimes I didn't get them.

  The van rolled up to one of the oldest burger joints in Atlanta. They had 1950’s-styled malts and checkered table clothes and even before we walked into the building it smelled like greasy French fries. A bell dinged as we walked in, and a waitress that looked like she came straight from the era sat us in a booth in the corner and smiled the whole time.

  "Are y'all brothers?" she asked. Obviously she had no clue who we were. Sometimes
I loved that. It gave me the opportunity to be myself and not be in the limelight, until the fans interrupted whatever we were doing.

  "Brothers?" Nik asked. "Do we look alike?" He glanced over at the twins. It took everything I had not to laugh.

  The waitress gave him a funny look as if he had asked the stupidest question in the world. "Look at these two wearing the same clothes," she said holding her thumb out at Jex and Rex. Jex was steaming mad.

  "Yeah, I'd say you all look the same. No doubts about it. So what can I get ya to drink?"

  We ordered our drinks and food. When the burgers came out, Rex took Jex's sandwich and told the waitress they switched places. Jex was ready to blow a gasket by the end of the lunch.

  "If you keep this shit up, I'm going to be you for a day Rex." Jex's nostrils were flaring.

  "Pfftt. You can't pull off sexy the way I do," Rex said puckering his lips and moving his shoulders in seductive circles.

  Jex shook his head while Rex continued to agitate him.

  "You two are annoying. This is why we can't go anywhere, because of you kids." Nik tried to pull off the best impression of Dad, and the whole table burst into laughter. Other guests inside of the room turned and looked at us, a bunch of rowdy guys, talking and eating with our mouths open, being loud like we didn't give a fuck. Because honestly, we had no fucks to give.

  The waitress moved our empty plates from in front of us and held out the check. I snatched it out of her hand and stood and pulled a few hundreds out of my wallet then handed them to her.

  She tried to hand half of it back. "You gave me too much."

  "No, I didn't. That's for you. Thanks for treating us like humans. Not many people do that," I said.

  She tucked her lips inside of her mouth and that's when the tears started to fall. "I can pay my electric bill with this. Thank you so much." She wrapped her arms around my waist and hugged me. I patted her on the shoulder and gave her a small smile. My brothers stood, looking like towering gods, and we walked out of the place like we owned it. Maybe I'd buy it. The thought made me laugh because I probably could if I wanted to.