Chapter 2

Joey was the leader and flamboyant guitarist of a very successful band called Hail The Dead Marys. His keyboard player and backing vocalist—Grady Tremone—had probably disappeared because Joey had put his foot in it, yet again.

“Grady’s AWOL, and we have a show in two hours at Lem’s. Can you fill in for tonight? Please?”

That’s what I thought

“What did you do to piss him off thistime?”

Appealing as he was, Joey had a tendency to cause rifts because of his diva attitudes. I had been the only one, that I know of, who could stem the steady flow of his ego, but even I had gotten tired of doing that, especially as our relationship deteriorated. I used to field calls from his bandmates telling me what a prick he was and begging me to do something about it, or take him back, even. It would take some drastic change in his character for me to consider it.

“Why do Ihave to be the one who did anything? He’s the one who took off.” He sounded like a petulant five-year-old. Typical.

“It’s alwaysyou. You’re just too much of a Van Halen to see it.” He even resembled the lead singer of that famous band, which was uncanny. I rubbed my forehead and frowned.

I’d done the band thing for a few years myself, while teaching music part time. In fact, I’d been a part of Joey’s band. But then I quit, having had enough of his ‘me, me, me’ ways, as the realization hit me that he was too immature to love anybody but himself.

It was funny, though. We were good for a year, totally exclusive. Then I’d started making noises about taking the next step—marriage. I’d really felt he was the one for me. But he blew me off. I pushed some more, and he got pissed and started sleeping around. Heart-broken, I’d left the band—and him—and decided to teach music full time and do solo events on the side.

Joey kept trying to get me back in the band—and sometimes his bed—but I always refused. I couldn’t trust myself with him in such close quarters, and it just hurt too much. I still helped him out when he was in a tight spot, though. I guess I was weak.

“Jesus.” I finished my water and tossed the bottle in the recycle bin under the sink. “Look, I just finished a long day, and I’m tired and cranky. Why don’t you call Tim Hugo? You know he’d do keys for you in a heartbeat.” And in hindsight, Tim would have been a better fit for the band than Grady. He was more laid-back and malleable, the perfect foil for ego-driven Joey.

“Tim’s got a gig tonight. Grady will be back tomorrow, I’m sure of it. He just needs to cool off, is all.”

Yeah, or you could apologize for being a prick, though that would never occur to you.

Whenever this happened, I felt bad that I’d put Grady in such a volatile situation. I’d been the one to hook him up with Joey in the first place, after I left the band. Grady was a wizard on keys and had the voice of angel—a real showstopper. In fact, he used to be a student of mine, not that he’d needed much tutoring from me. It was more of an excuse to sing and play with someone at his level of expertise. And he wasn’t hard on the eyes, either, reminding me a little bit of Richie Sambora.

We used to practice songs together from Joey’s band time and again. He’d crash on the couch when we’d forgotten about the time while working through a tricky piece of music, too tired to drive home. Grady was very independent-minded, too, which always seemed to get in the way of harmony.

It had been a couple of months since I’d seen Grady, actually. And, now that I thought about it, it was the same time period that Joey and Grady had been having a tiff. I didn’t want to think of the reason, but I’m sure I could guess. Shit

“Fine, okay. I’ll do it.” I took the phone with me as I headed upstairs to get ready. “Same three sets as usual?” I asked once I reached my bedroom.

“You got it. You’re a lifesaver, Jared! You’re the best friend I—”

“Whatever. I’ll be at Lem’s in half an hour.” I ended the call. Fuck. There went my evening of solitude.