Playing Me Read online

Page 2


  “Hi,” I caught the attention of the man setting up a microphone. “I’m Corinne Williams, I’m opening tonight.”

  He looked me over then grunted. “Get out your gear, we’ll do a test. Doors open in a half hour.”

  I took out my guitar and set myself up on stage. I sang two songs for my soundcheck while they balanced sound levels, tested lighting and made sure the speaker wiring was connected. When everything was satisfactory the sound guy came back over and nodded.

  “All set. You’re pretty good actually, where can I find your music?”

  “Thank you. I’m online.” I fished around in my guitar case and pulled out a card, handing it over. “Here you go.”

  He tucked it into his pocket. “Knock ‘em dead tonight, Corinne.”

  I headed backstage while the opening act arrived and went through their sound check. I hummed as I poured over my setlist, trying not to second-guess the order I had decided on. Eventually a voice snapped me out of my trance.

  “We’re ready for you, Corinne.”

  I stood up and picked up my guitar.

  I ran my fingers over my dad’s initials carved into the wood, J.W, like I did every time I played. This was for him, it was always for him. Off-stage I took a deep breath, then walked out with a smile. This was it, they were either going to like me or boo me off stage. There were a few claps and murmurs as I set myself behind the microphone. I scanned the crowd and finally found Nancy’s face. I felt calmer knowing that she was there cheering me on. Nancy raised her fist and shouted out, then I strummed the strings and started my first song.

  As I worked through my set the crowd started getting more engaged and clapping encouragingly between songs. I felt the music coursing through my body as I swayed to the beat, giving it everything I had in me. In this moment I felt more alive than I ever had, standing in front of a crowd and performing songs I had written. Music was a part of me; I was bearing my soul to the audience and they were seeing me for who I was. Not only that, they seemed like they liked me.

  I finished my last song and the room was quiet a moment as the final notes hung in the air. I looked out at the crowd. “Thank you, you’ve been wonderful.”

  Everyone broke out in applause that made my cheeks flush, Nancy was hollering and jumping up and down. I waved, then left the stage while the main act walked out.

  “Great job Corinne,” said Tyler, lead singer of the main act Treble. “They loved you.”

  “They’re here for you,” I reminded him. “I just warmed them up.”

  Tyler smiled at me then joined his band on stage. I listened as they started to play the first notes of their song and launch into their set. He was cute, messy hair and a tall lean body. Watching him work the stage made me smile. The fact that they took a chance on having me play tonight made me feel a warm sense of loyalty to them now. As I was watching from the sidelines I felt a hand on my shoulder.

  “Corinne, was it?”

  I turned and looked at a tall man in dark jeans and a striped dress shirt undone at the collar. He held his hand out to me.

  “Yes, Corinne Williams.” I shook his hand.

  “I was impressed by your set Corinne, my name is Scott Wolf. I’m a band manager for Kick Records. He handed me a business card and my eyes went wide. What was he doing here?

  “Oh, wow, it’s so nice to meet you Mr. Wolf.”

  “Please, call me Scott. Listen, I popped by tonight to visit the manager for a drink, he’s an old friend of mine. I was about to leave when you took the stage, and I had to stay. You have some real talent. Are you currently represented?”

  “I’m not.” My head was spinning.

  “Look, I need to leave, one of the bands I manage is performing at the Apollo tonight. But I’d like to talk to you more. Care to come with me?”

  I had read about being discovered. I had daydreamed about it, prayed for it, but in this moment I was dumbfounded.

  “I’d love to.” I picked up my bag and guitar case, then followed Scott out the side door. He was a stranger, maybe this was foolish, but if he was a kidnapper he knew exactly what to say to get me to trust him. There was a car waiting outside and he held a door open for me. This was a good sign. A kidnapper wouldn’t have an Escalade on standby. Probably. I slipped inside dragging my things along with me and he sat across from me.

  “I just need to make a few calls while we drive, you don’t mind do you?”

  “No.”

  We started to pull into traffic and Scott began chatting away on his phone. I came to my senses remembering I had left and Nancy was probably waiting for me in the bar. I needed to let her know what was happening. I pulled out my phone and typed out a message.

  I took off - you are not going to believe what happened. A band manager saw me and wants to talk. We’re on our way to the Apollo!!!

  She got back to me within seconds.

  Holy shit Corinne that’s incredible! Are you sure he’s legit and not some creep?

  I glanced up at Scott who was still chatting away on his call.

  I don’t think so, but just in case I disappear, his name is Scott Wolf and he’s with Kick Records

  I placed down my phone, but the screen lit up with a new message.

  Corinne! Scott Wolf is the manager for Archer Evans who is playing the Apollo tonight.

  I raised my eyebrows, confused. If this was true, Scott was the real deal. I suddenly felt more intimidated than I ever had, Archer was a huge star and I was just, well, me.

  How do you know that?

  I Googled. You deserve this Corinne. Tell me all about it later tonight. Good luck!

  Of course she Googled. I sat straight in my seat and looked out the window, trying to look cool and calm when inside I was anything but. This could completely change my life, and if I let this opportunity pass me by who knows when I would ever get another one.

  “We’re here,” Scott said as we slowed at the curb. He opened the door and I followed him out, taking my things with me. We walked past a crowd into a side door where a bouncer led us backstage.

  “They just went on,” the burly security guard told Scott.

  “We’ll wait in the green room,” Scott told him as he opened a door and gestured me inside. I looked around; there were couches and trays of food, a shelf full of liquor bottles. I sat down on a leather couch and Scott chose the seat across from me.

  “So, Corinne. Do you write your own music? Own all the rights?”

  “I write everything myself.”

  “Want a drink?” he reached for a bottle of beer and hesitated, looking back at me.

  “Sure, whatever you’re having.”

  He passed me a bottle and I twisted off the top then took a sip. It felt like smooth, cool relief against my tight throat that was still a bit raw from singing. Holding the bottle also helped keep my hands from shaking.

  “Where are you from?”

  “Florida, I’ve lived in New York for a few years now.”

  “Let me be straight with you, Corinne. I think I can make something of you. You have the right look, innocent but with sex-appeal. Your voice is incredible, a mix of pop and sultry jazz. I love it, and you have talent as a songwriter. The question is, are you serious about making this a career?”

  “I’m dead serious. It’s been my dream since I was a little girl.”

  “I want you to send me everything you have so far, then I’m going to set up a meeting at the label and we can discuss representation.”

  “Wow, Scott. I don’t know what to say.”

  He smiled, his teeth perfectly straight and gleaming. “You don’t have to say anything, not until the paperwork is signed. Then you can say, ‘thank you Scott’. In the meantime, enjoy yourself tonight.”

  He reached forward and tapped his bottle against mine. When he took a sip I followed his lead and tried to relax even though I wanted to run outside and celebrate in the street. I wanted to call everyone I knew. I wanted to laugh, cry and scream all at the sam
e time. This was really happening for me, and my entire future was about to change.

  Chapter Three

  Archer

  I was giving it everything I had in me, my voice carrying through the microphone and echoing in the vast space of the Apollo. I leaned forward, one leg balanced on a speaker as I sang the last song of our encore, a high energy ballad that was whipping the audience into a frenzy. I pushed off the speaker and stomped my foot the last few bars, then shoved my fist into the air as the lights flashed brightly. The song was over, the crowd erupted into applause and shouting.

  “Goodnight New York!” I waved and turned, heading off stage with the band. I felt alive, every cell in my body was humming.

  “Great finish to the tour, man.” Billy wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

  I nodded, wiping my hand over my face. “It’s kind of bittersweet, don’t you think?”

  Billy laughed. “You always say that after a tour, and then you get wrapped up in working on the next album with hardly a break. Come on, let’s just focus on tonight and have a good time. Celebrate the end of this chapter.”

  “I need a drink,” I rubbed my throat, a bit sore from singing.

  “You always need a drink,” Billy rolled his eyes.

  We walked together into the green room, I did a double take when I saw Scott sitting there with a hot chick. She glanced up at me, her green eyes looked right at me and I froze, then she returned to her conversation with Scott. I grabbed a beer then whispered to Billy.

  “Who is that? Reporter?”

  Billy scanned her then shook his head. “She has a guitar case with her. Maybe he’s scouting for new talent?”

  “Or maybe he brought me a present,” I winked, then took my beer over to Scott and the girl he was with.

  “Hi there,” I dropped down on the couch beside her, making myself comfortable. “Archer Evans.”

  “I know who you are,” she said politely. “I met your manager Scott at my show earlier, he invited me to come here so we could keep talking.”

  “I’m at a disadvantage then. You know who I am, but I don’t have the pleasure of knowing who you are.”

  “Archer,” Scott clapped a hand on my leg. “This is Corinne. She’s good, she’s real good. I was blown away by her performance. She might be my next big find.”

  “So you want to be a musician?” I asked. New York was full of wannabees. Wannabe actresses, wannabe models, wannabe musicians.

  “I am a musician,” she corrected. “I may not sell out stadiums yet, but I’m still a musician.”

  I raised my hands in the air. The girl had spunk, I’ll give her that. “Sorry, didn’t mean any offense sweetheart. So, show me what you’ve got.” I nodded towards her guitar.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Come on, Archer,” Scott focused his eyes on me. “Take it easy on her, we’re here to have a good time.”

  “I’m having a good time, are you not having a good time, Corinne?”

  She made an effort to smile, she seemed like she was out of her comfort zone. She probably was. To a girl trying to become a real musician this was probably scaring her shitless. But her face lit up when she smiled, and I liked it. She gave off a soft vibe that was unlike most of the fans or groupies I pulled backstage with me, girls with stars in their eyes. This girl was acting like a challenge, and I liked a challenge.

  “I’m having a great night,” she looked from me to Scott. “I played a fantastic show earlier, and I met Scott who would be incredible to work with. What more could I ask for?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. You could ask for plenty, and I think you’d get it,” I turned in my seat to face her giving her my most smoldering gaze, our legs almost touching. Her cheeks flushed and she swallowed hard. There it was. I was getting to her, I could tell. She shook her empty beer bottle.

  “I’m done, can I get you another, Scott?” she asked, finding an excuse to stand up. I chuckled as Scott nodded at her.

  Corinne walked over to the cooler and took out two beers. I admired her as she walked; long legs and a gorgeous form under that tight red dress of hers. I wanted to pull it off of her, slide down her zipper inch by inch until I could unwrap her like a present. My God she was a beautiful creature. I had a weakness for beautiful women, what hot-blooded straight man didn’t? I was worked up after my show and she was giving me all kinds of ideas how I could burn off the energy. She handed Scott a beer then sat down again.

  “I don’t mean to put you on the spot, but I’m dying of curiosity. Can you play one song for me?” Corinne looked at me with a horrified expression, it was time to up the charm. I put my hands together in front of me and gave her puppy dog eyes. “Pretty please?”

  She laughed. “Archer Evans wants to hear me play?”

  “I do, I really do,” I smiled at her. This ought to be interesting. She hesitated a split second, then leaned over and opened her case taking out a beat up old guitar. I leaned back in my seat. God, I fucking love it when they do what I ask them to do.

  “It might not be your style,” she started to say. I readied myself to act impressed, but what she didn’t know was I had already pegged her as a karaoke level amateur with a great body.

  She strummed a few chords, then she opened her mouth to sing. I froze in place, the smirk sliding off my face. Her voice was an incredible instrument, and she played it perfectly. She sounded the way smoke might sound; like smooth liquor and sex. She had a voice like an old-school jazz siren brought from the past to the present, like classic old Hollywood. Scott was looking at me, grinning ear-to-ear. She was special; he knew it, I knew it, the whole world was going to know it.

  When Corinne finished, the final notes hung heavy in the air; then, only silence. Everyone in the room had stopped what they were doing to listen to this enchantress. I clapped my hands and everyone else followed suit. She caught my eye before by being hot, now she had my undivided attention. Corinne smiled, looking down as she gently placed her guitar back in the case.

  “Wow, that was incredible,” I told her. I meant it.

  “Coming from someone as successful as you that means a lot, Archer.” She glanced down at her phone. “Oh, wow. Is that really the time? I’m sorry Scott. I need to get home. Is that okay?”

  “No problem, Corinne. I’ll give you a call tomorrow. Remember to send over your portfolio tonight”

  She gathered her things and headed for the door, waving at everyone. I downed the rest of my drink then stood up when a hand gripped my arm.

  “Where do you think you’re going Casanova?” Scott raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Just for some air,” I lied.

  “Sure you are, Archer, sure you are,” Scott rolled his eyes. I shrugged out of his grip and went out into the hall, walking quickly to catch up with Corinne; ignoring Scott as he called after me.

  “Hey,” I shouted after her. “Hey. Wait up, Corinne.”

  She turned and blinked, surprised to see me. I stopped when I reached her side and smiled. This was going to happen, I was going to make it happen. “I wish I had been able to see your show.”

  “Hopefully I’ll be playing music for a long time, so you’ll have another chance.”

  I leaned against the wall, looking her over. “The night isn’t over yet. I live nearby, why don’t you come back with me. We can even jam together, I can give you a few tips before your meeting with the label.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so, Archer.”

  She was going to play hard to get. Fine. “Why not?”

  She bit her lip. God, I wanted to bite that full lip of hers. “Listen, Archer. Being a musician has been my dream all my life.”

  “Mine too, so why don’t you let me help you out?”

  “Look,” she let her voice trail off. “I know your reputation. I don’t judge you for it, but I’m not that kind of girl.”

  I stepped closer to her, close enough to touch, but I didn’t. “What kind of girl is that exactly?”

  She
swallowed hard. “I’m not going to sleep with you Archer, if that’s what you’re after.”

  I looked from her eyes to her lips, then back into her eyes. “The thought had crossed my mind,” I admitted with a slow smile. She was hot, and I wanted to stop wasting time talking. I wanted to grab her and drag her out of here, get her alone and screw her prim and proper brains out.

  She placed her hand on my chest, holding me at arm's length away from her. Her touch had me tempted to pull her against me, I wanted to shove her against the wall and claim her mouth with mine. I could feel myself start to grow hard.

  “I’m not as naive as I look. Goodnight Archer.”

  She held her guitar and continued walking down the hallway, not looking back. I watched her go, her perfect ass swaying from side to side. Damn. A hand landed on my shoulder.

  “Striking out?” Billy laughed.

  “Whatever, fifty bucks says I never see or hear about that chick again.”

  “I don’t know. She was pretty good, I think Scott found something.”

  “I’m bored. There better be girls in the room,” we started walking back.

  “Found a brunette and a redhead you might be into.”

  I opened the door to the green room, the number of people inside had doubled while I was out in the hall striking out with the uptight girl. I made eye contact with two girls in short black dresses waving at me from the couch.

  “Which one do you want, Archer?”

  “Both.” I gestured for them to come over, then wrapped an arm around each.

  “My name is-” I pressed a finger against the brunette’s lips.

  “I don’t care,” I whispered in her ear.

  I guided them out the hall towards the alley where my driver was waiting for me. I wanted to get somewhere private, blast some music, spend all of that pent-up energy and frustration in my body, then finally crash. I needed inspiration for a new album, and searching the bottom of liquor bottles or the bodies of willing women hadn’t let me down so far. If it isn’t broke, don’t fix it.

  Chapter Four

  Corinne